"But I…"
Lesinteпl fell because of you. You broke faith with the council and betrayed the elves.
Pulling the covers over his head, Nudin tried to silence his troublesome conscience by falling asleep.
But sleep brought no delivery. That night the soul of the Perished Land cajoled its way into his dreams and the whispering mist paid another visit to his bed.
"Have you made up your mind? Has Nudin the All-Knowing resolved to rescue Girdlegard?"
"You breached the barrier and took Lesinteпl. How did you do it?"
"Nudin the All-Knowing wouldn't need to ask." The mist slipped beneath the covers, where it soon became pleasantly warm. "The first elven kingdom is mine. Вlandur will be next, and the magi can do nothing to stop me. My protective power will extend deep into the south of Girdlegard, but I'm running out of time."
"Protective power? You're seizing the lands by force!"
"Only for a heartbeat in the continuum of time. Remember, Nudin, no one relinquishes freedom gladly. Rulers and races are like children and I am their mother. I protect them from harm." The swirling mist became a human face. "Imagine a small boy whose mother won't let him play with a dog. She picks him up because she knows that the dog is dangerous, but he resents her intervention. He kicks, screams, and struggles against her, not realizing that the dog would bite him as soon as it had the chance." The voice paused for a moment. "The mother chases the dog away, then sets her son down and lets him play as he pleases. The boy is too young to understand, but in time he'll see that she did the right thing. His resentment will turn to gratitude because she helped him in spite of his protests."
The analogy made perfect sense. Nudin's conscience warned him against the silver-tongued whisperer, but he shut out his inner voice. "You've explained it to me, so why can't you explain it to the rulers of the other realms and kingdoms? And why ally yourself with beasts? Orcs and дlfar are feared by men and loathed by elves and dwarves: Why choose them to carry out your will?"
The mist swathed the bed, covering every inch of his body and shrouding his eyes. It felt like the caress of a thousand soothing hands. "Girdlegard is in danger. I didn't have time to choose my allies; I had to take what I could find. My creatures can be counted on to bring me rapid victories. It's the best way of protecting Girdlegard from the threat."
"And this threat, have you fought it before?" Nudin asked sleepily. He was struggling to focus.
"More times than I can remember, but the enemy is powerful, swift, and wily. Victory has always eluded me. We need time to prepare ourselves properly if we are to win." The caressing intensified, the whispers multiplying and echoing through Nudin's mind. "I need your body, Nudin. Lend me your form and I will give you my knowledge, a knowledge greater than any possessed by mortal man. Remember, when our enemy has been vanquished, your body will be your own. You will always have the power to drive me out. You must make your decision, Nudin."
"What if your knowledge isn't as spectacular as you claim?"
"Watch. I will show you." The mist contracted around his temples, pulsing furiously with streaks of black, silver, and red.
The soul of the Perished Land gave Nudin's dreaming consciousness a glimpse of the marvels that would soon be his.
Strange runes danced before the awestruck magus and unintelligible languages filled his ears. Images flashed through his mind-snatches of spells and curses, strange and formidable landscapes in the Outer Lands, and faraway cities and palaces more splendid than anything known to men, elves, or dwarves.
He drank in the wonderful sights and sounds, thirsted for more, and was rewarded. Plunged into an endless stream of images, he bathed in knowledge and imbibed its wisdom until the vision was brought to a halt.
"Don't stop," Nudin said greedily. "Show me more."
"Will you lend me your body?"
"Let me-"
Runes glimmered in the air while distant voices reverberated in unknown tongues. The sun dimmed over a breathtakingly beautiful meadow and the landscape dissolved away. Stacks of books swayed dangerously and learned volumes of spells and incantations moldered, leaves perishing and turning to dust.
"Will Nudin the All-Knowing save Girdlegard?" the mist whispered. "Will he help a mother protect her child?" The magus's defenses crumbled.
"I will help you," he whispered hoarsely, peering into the mist. By letting the spirit in, he would be able to control it, or so he told himself. If I find out it's lying about the threat to Girdlegard, I'll force it to give back our lands and send its servants over the Northern Pass. Whatever happens, I'll get the promised knowledge and Girdlegard will win. "What must I do?"
The mist glimmered excitedly. "Nothing. Lie still and don't stop me. Open your mouth, empty your mind, and think of nothing. You'll know when I'm in."
Nudin lay back and did as instructed.
Three tendrils of mist snaked toward him and slipped between his lips. It felt as if they were reconnoitering the territory in preparation for an invasion.
What happened next took Nudin by surprise. Suddenly, the mist contracted and forced itself inside his mouth. The pressure was so great that his jaws seemed to break apart and his ears were filled with the sound of cracking. His hands dug into his bedclothes, ripping the sheets.
Once inside him, the mist pushed onward with no regard for his body. It expanded along his gullet, cutting off his airway and expelling the breath from his lungs. His veins throbbed frantically, his blood racing at four times its usual speed.
Red fluid spurted from his nose and eyes and he realized with horror that he was losing blood from every pore. His lifeblood was seeping from his body, streaming over his skin and staining his sheets.
He sat up, gurgling unintelligibly, and tried to reach the door. The floor rushed toward him.
He had no control over his legs or any other part of his body; even his mind refused to obey him. Babbling, laughing, and choking, he screamed in pain and terror, crawling and writhing through his chamber and leaving a glistening crimson trail.
He could feel the mist pushing through every vessel in his body, pounding his flesh, foraging in his guts, torturing his manhood, and never pausing for a moment on its agonizing path.
Then at once the suffering was over.
Nudin lay on the cold marble floor, struggling to regain his breath. Slowly, his dazed senses cleared, and his thoughts and perceptions became extraordinarily acute.
He clambered to his feet. Blood was caked to his skin and the smell of excrement clung to his robes. Repelled by the filth, he hurried along the corridors and stood beneath a fountain to wash away the dirt. The cold water revived his spirits, leaving him refreshed and alert.
And now for a test… He tried to recall the spells he had heard. The words and gestures returned to him effortlessly, but more remarkably, he knew their purpose and the correct inflection of every syllable: It was all imprinted on his mind.
Strictly speaking, it wasn't his mind that was furnishing the information, but he brushed that thought aside.
With a rush of exhilaration he thought of all the wonders he had seen, and at once they returned to him, only this time he could hear, taste, and smell them. The beautiful meadow had its own distinctive aroma, which he recognized instantly. He remembered the melodies sung by the birds, and he knew that Pajula, for that was the name of the spot, was located beyond the mountains of his homeland in a place that no one in Girdlegard had heard of, let alone mapped.
Chuckling delightedly, he let the water splash over his skin.
Well, are you satisfied? asked a voice inside his head. Have I kept my side of the bargain?
"Yes," he said aloud, then corrected himself. Yes, your knowledge is everything you promised it would be. He decided on a further test. I want you to leave.