Not only Torio watched and listened; so did the others on this plane, drawn to the tale of manipulation and extortion, gathering mentally about the storyteller as Torio carefully edged his presence away from Portia’s self-absorption.
As he reached the edge of the circle of yearning minds, though, Portia noticed that her audience had shrunk by one.
“Torio-come back!” she projected-but she was too late. Other minds shielded him from Portia. His diversion had worked as effectively as Maldek’s.
He shifted planes, and quickly shifted again, the technique to guarantee privacy-or escape-even if someone succeeded in pursuing him through the first shift.
But he had lost all trace of the cold fire.
“Melissa!” he projected hopelessly. Her name echoed back to him-he was on a finite plane, it seemed.
Yes, he could Read its dimensions as he could not the others’. And, as with so many of the planes of existence, his was the only presence here.
Wherever “here” was.
He could go on shifting planes endlessly-but what good would that do? The chances of finding the plane Melissa was on were too small to calculate.
He was lost.
Still… he could not give up.
He shifted planes, and found a world where he was bombarded by tastes and smells instead of sights and sounds.
Another shift, and music such as he had never heard in the world he came from rang out in absolute purity. He was held, spellbound. There were no instruments or voices. It was pure music itself-perhaps the plane from which musicians like Zanos and Astra drew their inspiration? Or to which they contributed the pure forms of their compositions?
If so, then… artists also reached out to the planes of existence while in their bodies!
And most were not even Readers.
If an artist could tap this plane the way Maldek tapped the planes of power, then surely Torio could reach out to the plane on which Melissa was…?
He envisioned her, then let her mental image rise in his mind, her sweet thoughts, her gentle caring, her strong will when she knew she was right-Without knowing how, Torio suddenly discovered his
“direction,” shifted planes, and found Melissa.
She was with Dirdra, Kwinn, and Bryen.
They were visual-he could actually see Melissa’s heart-shaped face and curling hair, Dirdra and Bryen’s red locks-but both Bryen’s hands were there and whole.
As for Kwinn-
He was a man, close to Dirdra’s age, tall and strong and whole. The light of intelligence shone in the green eyes identical to his sister’s.
Torio understood that the nonReaders could not comprehend their nonphysical selves except in the form they were accustomed to-but perfected.
And this plane was also a plain-land below, sky above, lighted even though no sun was visible. It took the form expected by those who traveled it.
Ahead on the plain was a huge stone archway, other travelers walking toward it from many directions.
They might have burned or frozen to death in Madura’s conflict, but here they were whole and healthy, hurrying eagerly toward that entryway into light.
That archway-or was it a tunnel? — was the source of the light illuminating this world.
Realizing that they perceived his usual appearance, Torio stood before his four friends, blocking their way.
“Torio,” said Kwinn. “I know you-you are Dirdra’s friend, and therefore mine.”
“I am glad to meet you at last, Kwinn,” Torio replied, “but I have come for Melissa.”
“Torio,” she replied mildly, “you do not belong here. It is not yet your time.”
“Nor yours,” he reminded her. “Come back with me, Melissa.”
“I cannot,” she told him. “I died. I belong on the plane of the dead.”
“Maldek didn’t die-but he will not recover without a healer. If there is no one with the power to restore his lands, your death is meaningless. Everyone in Madura will die, and the land will remain a frozen waste.”
It was the right appeal, catalyzing Melissa’s need to care for others. “But I must guide-” she began.
“We are here now,” said Dirdra.
“We know the way,” added Kwinn, taking his sister’s hand.
“Tell Zanos,” added Bryen, “that I am happy we found one another again.”
Torio was rather surprised that the three showed no interest in returning to the world from which they had been so abruptly torn, but Melissa smiled at them. “We will remember you,” she said, not offering to touch them-nor did Torio. He and
Melissa did not belong here… yet. Apparently Dirdra and Kwinn and Bryen understood that they did.
They Read when their appearance vanished to the three nonReaders, although to one another Torio and Melissa were as much “there” as ever.
But in a moment Melissa confessed, “Torio-I do not know the way back.”
Ill think I do,” he replied. “Not the way I came- Portia will be lying in wait along that path.”
“Portia!”
“She is with those who refuse to accept death. I made certain she could not follow me.”
Ill hope so!” Melissa agreed. “How do we get home?”
“Zanos and Astra are waiting, keeping your body alive,” Torio told her. Ill think I know of a plane from which we can reach them. Come-”
Together, they moved from where they were, to-
Cold white fire!
“No!” Melissa screamed mentally as it tried to suck her back into its grasp.
In its own sphere, the white fire had utter purity, not evil here, where it belonged-merely existence.
“Melissa-stop fighting it!” Torio urged-for he recognized that just as Dirdra, Kwinn, and Bryen had made images of themselves for coping with a new plane of existence, Melissa had an image of that power sucking energy from her, trying to pull her in as it had done when it entered their world.
But here, it remained in balance so long as there was no entry for it into another plane.
Melissa struggled, her own expectations causing the power to attack her.
“Melissa-observe!” Torio commanded-like a Master Reader instructing a pupil.
Melissa’s Academy instinct took over. Her struggle subsided… and Torio showed her that out of body they could not feel cold-they had no physical energy for it to drain from them. Then he imagined the cold white fire drawing back from her, leaving her untouched, untainted.
“How-how did you do that?” she asked in awe.
“Read the power,” he replied. “It is in equilibrium here-it takes only a thought to manipulate it. Go ahead-you can do it as well as 1.
And Melissa discovered that she could.
Her relief, however, did not last long. “We are still lost,” she observed. “This is not where you meant to come, is it?”
“No, I meant to find the plane of music-but Melissa, there is also a direct path from this plane to our world. Through Maldek.”
“Through-?”
“How often did he tap this power? If we seek him from here-”
“What if we unleash this power into Madura again?”
“We won’t. We know how to control it now.”
“We do?” she asked skeptically. “What happens once we return? You know how different things seem out of body.”
Ill know,” he replied. “But Maldek controlled this power while in his own body-so can you. You will need it, Melissa. Your body died. Zanos and Astra are forcing your heart to beat, your lungs to breathe-but there is great damage from the cold. Probably to my body too, by now. You will have much healing to do. Only by using this power as Maldek did will you have the strength.”
She remained silent for some time, studying the cold white fire surrounding them, so quiet and harmless now. But open that circuit-
“Melissa,” Torio suddenly realized, “the secret is never to allow the power to reach beyond your own touch. Remember? Maldek sent it out to attack Rokannia and the other sorcerers-that’s when he lost control.”