Chapter 4

“Ugh. Really?”

Mera tossed her still slightly damp dress into the cleaning basin. The smell of vomit was slightly diminished as the unit worked to cleanse foreign materials from her clothing, but she knew that the whole house would reek for a few more hours.

As soon as she had dumped the unconscious man into his tiny new home, she had stripped to bare skin and wadded both dress and underwear into a bundle and made the long journey back to her home. Now, finally able to get clean, she turned on the taps and stepped into the steaming hot water of the shower trying to scrub the smell of the stranger’s stomach contents and his pungent sweat from her blue skin. Had the man never heard of bathing?

Once she felt as though she had scoured the worst of it away, she changed the spout to fill the tub and liberally poured in some of the spice oils from the shelf on the wall. Even before the tub had completely filled, she sank down into the steaming water and started to process what had happened and what it might mean for her.

The millennia old Tibori was elated and scared at the same time. If the tall soldier was the One she was waiting for, then she would soon be back in the world and able to travel to the old places again. She knew that none of them would be familiar, but oh! to be able to walk those old roads and remember would be joyous!

Unfortunately, if he was the One, then everything would change. At least here, even with all of the different worlds she visited, she knew how things worked and what to expect. However, in his new, post-Cataclysm world, so much was different that she would be the stranger and have to learn the customs and interactions of these modern cultures.

A goodly part of her was excited by the novelty and challenge, but another part of her quailed at the thought of being exposed again. For centuries after the Cataclysm finally ended, she had spent untold hours in the Auditorium searching for clues that would explain the origin of the destruction that had ruined her civilization. At first, she had hoped that the devastation would be limited to her part of the world, but after less than two years of watching horror upon horror, the distraught woman had witnessed every nation reduced to ashes; their inhabitants, a tiny fraction of the original population, forced to band together as nomads in order to eke out a new life in the aftermath. Eventually, they had settled once again and created new kingdoms, countries, and societies. The grandchildren and great-grandchildren of the survivors, people who had no recollection of the life they had lost, were reduced to medieval, almost barbaric, methods for existing.

Gone were the daily mix of magic and technology that had raised towers high into the air. Gone were the day-to-day conveniences that let pre-Cataclysm folk go about their day efficiently and with comfort. Now, her cultural descendants were forced to hammer iron into rough steel implements that, at best, were only good for crudely carving wood, stone, and, unfortunately, flesh.

As dispiriting as all of that had been, what truly sank a stone in Mera’s gut was that, even with all of her searching and watching, she had never found what had caused the Cataclysm in the first place. She knew it had not been a natural occurrence but some dark spell set upon them. Since it had been the product of malicious intent, what if the originator was still out there somewhere in the world? What if he or she was simply waiting; biding their time until the Library surfaced again? If that were the case, and they did attack immediately, Mera knew the last Great Library would be lost. Even with all of the power at her disposal and several millennia of study, she was basically right where she had been at the beginning. She could not counter an attack she could not see until it was too late and the thought terrified her, even after all this time.

But what if this new arrival wasn’t the Chosen One Eshava had talked about so long ago? He certainly didn’t seem to fit the bill. Her mentor had said that whoever it was would be free of the angers of the world, but he was quite obviously not that. No soldier could reach his age and not have been affected by the problems of life.

However, that led her to another question: If he wasn’t the One, how in all the names of the First Gods did he get in? Had he shown up among the Shelves, she would have assumed he had arrived via one of the overlaps, but he hadn’t. He’d come in through one of the tethers! That shouldn’t be possible!

He was obviously no mage. The man had arrived in boiled leather armor and a sword sheath strapped to his rough tanned belt. Admittedly, she hadn’t checked in nearly a century and a half, but the last time she looked, mages of his time wore robes and had all sorts of silly amulets and other props to help them in their incantations. No, every bit of evidence made it abundantly clear that he was a common soldier and from what she had seen of the conscripts that made up modern armies, he would be coarse, poorly-educated, and barbaric.

“Yes,” she muttered to herself,” a barbarian, indeed.”

She rose from the cooling water and toweled off. Barbarian or no, she would have to deal with him, but how? At the moment, she had no clue, but she knew that she had at least a few days to figure it out. The multiple concussions he had suffered from had made it necessary to use her Sphere to keep him unconscious while the little Bio-manipulation magic she could use worked on repairing the damage. Once it was done, she would be able to take him back to the entrance and send him home.

By that time, she might be over him puking all over her.

“Damn!” she swore.

After packing supplies for a few days, Mera had set the house to order for an extended trip. This wasn’t the first time by any means, so the operation was quite routine. However, she was certain that she would be feeding the barbarian for a few days so she had packed a similar bag with foodstuffs. Even weakened as she was certain he would be, he would probably consume a healthy amount of food. Fortunately, the area where she had created his cell was near one of the moderately popular outer research centers so she would have access to drinking water.

She also packed a handful of her favorite books. With the trip being so long, she definitely did not intend to go back and forth any more than she had to, so keeping herself entertained would be important.

Her first stop had to be the tether entrance. She would need to gauge the power it had used for his transport. The tethers were one of the most power redundant parts of the Library. Since they were what kept it attached to the world, her team had given a great percentage of the magic taken in by the Power Well to the massive bonds. With so much energy to use, a recharge to send the soldier back shouldn’t take long at all...

“Damn! Damn! Damn!” she repeated.

To say that she was shocked would be an understatement. She had reached the tether terminus only to find that it was down to less than twenty-five percent of its normal power levels. How had transporting one man used up that much magic?

And how had he found the entrance in the first place? When discussing how to keep the Library safe, the agreed upon first step had been to submerge the giant edifice deep into the earth and anchor the tethers there. Each of the magical shackles had been attached to physical points in the bedrock that surrounded the original site in a five-hundred mile circle. This was intended to not only provide mooring, but stability as the Library traveled through the various dimensions of space and time.

What confused Mera was the fact that they had also been affixed to the bedrock almost a mile below the surface. There should have been no way to accidently stumble onto a connection point without trying which meant that her new prisoner wasn’t just some unwary soldier. By the look of him, he must have been part of some army and his wounds indicated that he had been in a fight, but was that fight some sort of battle or was the damage inflicted as part of his journey here?

She mulled this over as she left the terminus. She had intended to see to her prisoner, but with the tether depleted so, she would need to check the Power Well of the Library itself. If whatever method the intruder used had damaged more than just the tether, she would need to take steps.

The blue Caretaker heaved a deep sigh of relief as she examined the enormous rondure of crackling magical energy. Easily as large as the Librarians statue in the main hub, it rotated minutely in a random pattern. Having been part of the design team of the power structure, Mera knew better and that the aimless gyrations coincided with whatever was drawing energy from the Well at the moment. This was how the Library maintained itself on a regular basis; by sending its magical energy throughout the building which powered the upkeep and repair spells.

Striding around one of the vast concentric catwalks that surrounded the Well, she checked the outflow junction that lead to the drained tether. It was considerably more concentrated than normal which meant that the tether was being recharged as it should. Her gut unclenched itself a little as it became obvious that the intrusion hadn’t endangered her or the Library. Unfortunately, even at the enhanced pace, the Well would not be able to replace the tether’s strength in anything less than two months.

The concern that had been dominating her mind drained away to be replaced by outrage and she started cursing under her breath as she left the Well’s cavernous chamber to interrogate her prisoner.

“Water! Of all the ... He throws up on me and then he ... and all he says is that he’s thirsty! Argh!”

Most of Mera’s anger had dissipated by the time she reached the small earthen room, but the lingering stench of his fevered sweat and the remaining hint of vomit had triggered her all over again. She stomped down the catwalk away from his cell and toward the research center where she had stowed her supplies. Definitely feeling petty, she grabbed a bucket from the supply closet, made certain that there was no residue that might make him sick again, and filled it with water. If he truly was some uneducated lout, he would probably make himself sick anyway by guzzling it. Hefting the bucket in one hand, she started back.

HE DIDN’T KNOW! She could hear the truth of his words in his mind. The man had no idea where he was and how he had come to be here! How was that possible? How could he have just stumbled upon the tether entrance?

All through her trip from the Well, Mera had been preparing for a brutal and grueling interview which would probably have left her no choice but to ravage his mind for answers, causing almost irreparable damage as she went.

As it stood though, he was a virtual innocent! He wasn’t some treasure hunter or the pawn of an evil mage or power-hungry king! He was an ordinary human who, somehow through whatever circumstance, had tripped over the entrance to a place that should have been inaccessible to just that sort of random encounter.

She had stomped out of their conversation no longer really angry with him, but with the universe in general. Something was going on here and she had no clue what it was. The worry that she had let go in the Well had returned full force and she knew that it was going to make her waspish and vindictive toward the soldier who, apparently, didn’t deserve it.

In fact, as she thought about it, the entire situation had somehow robbed her of the emotional and mental control she had cultivated and mastered well before her third centennial and that realization made her drop onto one of the seats in the research area and take herself in hand.

Her kind were one of the First Races and that meant that she should have had a normal lifespan of several thousand years. While to a human such as the incarcerated soldier that might seem like a long time, extended years also came with experience and, for most of her people, a certain kind of control. It was inadvertent, but a person could not live for millennia without developing some sort of mastery over their mind and its reactions. Sadly, many of those of the younger races mistook this for aloofness or detachment. Some even saw it as condescension or worse. The simple truth was that the First Races had learned many skills in their longevity and, somehow over the course of the last lonely few thousand years, Mera had apparently lost some of them.

For almost an hour, the ageless woman practiced exercises from her younger years until she felt as though she had a handle on the worst of her fear and frustration. She would need to work on these skills again, but at least she was mostly certain that she could go back and have a civil conversation with her prisoner.

That night, as she lay wrapped in her bedroll on one of the long couches, she replayed the emotional ride she had taken while talking with him the second time. Putting a final hold on her feelings, she had been unaware of his change of position from sitting to standing. When she had looked at him, she realized just how striking he actually was. He was broad in the chest, decently muscled, and, if she were to be honest with herself, he looked as though he could probably wrap his arms around her with grip to spare. She had felt the slight tingle between her thighs for a moment before realizing that she had been caught looking at him in much the same way that he had been ogling her earlier.

That had brought back her anger for a moment, but it had disappeared in the wake of loss and grief as her history lesson had brought faces that she hadn’t really thought of in several decades to the forefront of her mind. Even as she talked of them, images of laughing Jinviel and timid Iserien, nurturing Traryn and serious Davsin all rushed before her mind’s eye. Galemir had been as much of a mentor and teacher as Eshava, but the face that had stopped her explanation was of her partner, Colphon.

While it was true that they had been lovers for a brief few decades, they had spent much more time as partners and comrades while developing the spells and Writing needed for their Library. Knowing that they would be the ones to look after this particular facility for years beyond what should have been their own lifetimes, they had personalized parts of those spells for comfort and convenience. In the process, they had come to know one another in ways that even they, themselves, hadn’t even realized.

Once the Library had been finished, the pair had quickly settled into a comfortable rhythm of helping the administrators, researchers, and casual patrons as a highly functional team. Eshava had even remarked that their level of connection almost appeared to transcend that of what the Library had encoded in them and they often moved as though of one mind, even in day-to-day tasks.

Then had come the Cataclysm.

Mera turned over on her couch and attempted to change her line of thinking. She knew that if she kept walking down that particular path of memories, she would risk facing insanity again; something she might not be able to walk away from this time.

Instead, she brought her mind back to the puzzle of the barbarian. He was most definitely handsome without being pretty and his eyes weren’t those of a cruel, vindictive, or petty man. She could see that deep beneath the pain and trials of his life, he remained steady and mature. He had impressed her with his control when she had given him the water. This was a man who had mastered himself in a way not usually found in one so young.

She ruefully admitted to herself that his stature had startled her for a moment. Though not quite as tall as her Colphon, he towered above her nonetheless and, although she was not one of those who valued physical attributes over mental ones, that height had triggered memories and body sensations of being held safely in her deceased lover’s arms.

Pushing those memories away yet again, she stood and started to pace a bit. What was she to do with this man? It would be weeks before the tether was ready and she couldn’t stay here until then. She had duties to perform and responsibilities to attend to. She felt fortunate that the Library hadn’t informed her of any incursions while she dealt with her dilemma, but that would soon change. Mera didn’t think she could remember a time when some new creature or being didn’t stumble through an overlap at least once every two weeks or less. No, she would need to decide on a course of action and soon ... ish.

With her heart still hurting a little and worry about how to handle her “guest” gnawing at her gut, the worn-out woman returned to her makeshift bed and did her best to sleep.

“Shit!” Mera put a hand to her chest and leaned back against the wall next to the outer door of his cell. Her heart was pounding in her chest and not from anger. Certainly, she had been startled when he had yelled at her but being that close to him had somehow driven home to her long neglected nether regions that there was an attractive man available which did nothing for her frame of mind.

For almost a week, she had hemmed and hawed at how to deal with him. Her thoughts were conflicted. He was obviously a decent man and he deserved an answer, but she still wasn’t sure she had one for him. She obviously couldn’t keep him here until the tether was ready, but where else could she put him for an extended period of time? She could have him stay in one of the administrator’s old suites, but she would need to put a lock on it somehow to keep him from wandering and even then, he might be canny and resourceful enough to circumvent her efforts.

The lonely woman had almost convinced herself that she could simply take him back to the house with her, but, having been the sole resident for so long, she was nervous about someone else moving around while she slept. While there were wards she could put up around the guest room to protect herself if he should prove to be untrustworthy, she simply wasn’t ready yet. It felt like she was waiting for something, but she had no clue as to what.

In the meantime, however, her body was still reacting to his. Mera sat down on the couch that had been her bed for this last week and took a few moments to practice her mental drills again. She had been diligent but was surprised at how much her skill had faded in the time she had been alone. Even now, after daily exercise, she still felt the heat that had settled down into her pelvis. Brushing a hand against her chest, she gasped; both in amazement at how hard her nipples were and the sudden sensitivity of them. The normally blue woman raised her hand and her eyes grew wide at just how pink her tone had turned!

She sighed with a bit of frustration. As much as she might like to indulge in her arousal, this was not a good time for it since she needed to focus. Unfortunately, her body wasn’t really agreeing with her and it made her frustration worse. Finally, after a long struggle with herself, she was able to quell the excitement, but the amount of effort it took had made her irritable again. Deciding that was the best she could manage at the moment, she grabbed a couple of books from her stash to keep the barbarian occupied while she set up wards on the suite.

Mera lay back on her bed. The worst of her tears had faded and she rubbed at her scratchy eyes with one arm. The barbarian had been wrong in his guess that she was upset at the thought of being alone again. She had heard him thinking as he stood outside her door even through her pain.

No, her sorrow had come from old memories. While the soldier she now knew was named Ashur had been learning how to use the facilities, she had started to make a simple dinner. What she had not recognized until he was musing about his post-return plans was that the stew she had made was Colphon’s favorite. Having someone, especially a male, in the house had instantly reverted her to old habits, even after all this time and, for a split-second, she had almost called out her long-dead partner’s name to tell him that it was ready.

She had caught her tongue before it could betray her, but the realization had brought many of those memories back to her and it wasn’t long before her tenuous control on her emotions started to erode. Hiding in her room, she did her best to hold back the worst of the pain, but much of it still leaked from her eyes into her pillow.

Now, she sat up and wiped the last of the crusty residue from her face and stepped out into the main room. Her guest had finally fallen into a fitful sleep so she moved to the kitchen and disposed of the uneaten food. Even had she been hungry enough to eat, she didn’t trust her own mental state right now. She would have to be very careful about it over the next few weeks so as not to let on to her guest.

With a shake of her head, she thought about that little turn of events. She had returned to the cell with the intent of leaving him the books and food, but when his hand had gently fallen on her head and she had seen directly to his heart...

She had known he was a decent man by his surface thoughts, but the direct contact of his hand on her head had given her more insight than he could possibly know. He wasn’t just a decent man, but a truly good man. The flavor of his thoughts and emotions in that moment had convinced her that his speech was the truth. He was genuinely tired of the fighting and war that he had chosen for his profession and probably should have retired long ago. More importantly, however, she saw that he had integrity and honor. He fought to protect those in need, not just for the sake of battle. He nurtured instead of denigrated, even when the latter was easier to do. This weary soldier did the right thing, even when it hurt. And in being the man she saw him to be, she had changed her mind and decided to take him home.

With the kitchen cleaned, she stood outside his bedroom door and listened to the whispers of his mind. There was nothing concrete or definite that she could distinguish, just a soft murmur that brushed gently across her mental ears. After a few moments, she turned and went to her own bed where the fatigue from the long trip and heavy emotions dragged her down in moments.

Pulling her wet fingers from her crotch, the panting pink woman sat up straight and threw the soaked hand across her mouth in an attempt to stifle her moans. She had been so focused on reaching her release that she hadn’t been aware of Ashur in the hallway until his curiosity had finally intruded on her thoughts. Once she got her panting under control, she finally uncovered her mouth and licked the residual fluid from her lips. She looked down at her hand and saw the expected alternation of pink and purple on her skin.