The group moved silently through the snow. I’d expected Aeld to ask me questions, but they simply walked ahead of me, seemingly unhurried but intent on getting wherever they were going. That was fine with me; I wouldn’t have been able to answer questions well anyway. Besides, I had my own questions for Sara. As I trudged behind Aeld, following in their footsteps, I let my body kind of plod along in cruise control and turned my thoughts inward.
“Okay, Sara, what do we know about this new world?”
“Well, as usual, a full scan is going to take some time, John. Here’s what I’ve got so far.”
A screen popped up in my vision, and I glanced over it.
Doorworld: Sojnheim
Magic Rating: 45 - 65
Tech Rating: 30 - 55
Bio Rating: 35 - 60
Time to full analysis: 11:11:38
“That’s a long time for the analysis, isn’t it, Sara? And those ranges are wider than normal.”
“Yes, John, but that’s deliberate. I made some serious miscalculations on the last two worlds using incomplete data. I’m hoping that by extending my scan times and making fewer assumptions, I’ll get better and more useful results.” She laughed quietly. “You once told me that it was fine to make mistakes as long as we learned from them. I’m trying to do just that.”
I couldn’t exactly complain about that, I supposed. Besides, I’d rather the scan take longer and give me better info, no question.
“That’s fine. From what you’re showing me, this world is probably more magical than any other I’ve been on, somewhere between Kuan Yang and Soluminos in technology, and more diverse than Kuan Yang but not as diverse as Puraschim.”
“That’s probably reasonably accurate. The magic field is strong on this world, but there’s something odd about it that I can’t quite put my finger on. I don’t think technology is going to be very advanced, and the bio-field fluctuates enough that there’s decent diversity but not the vast number of species as you saw on Puraschim.”
“Do you think that what Aeld did before was this world’s magic?”
“That’s possible. Spirit magic isn’t uncommon in the Doorverse. However, he could have claimed that spirit for a dozen different reasons. This could be a reincarnation world, and he could be pacifying the spirit, so it doesn’t come back as something vengeful. It could be something religious, where the people of this world worship spirits, and he’s adding it to their pantheon. It could be something sinister, where he’s hoping to drain the spirit of power or imprison it.”
“Could he be using it to the way you do to help me level? Could the people of this world be able to improve like they did on Puraschim?”
“Possible, but really, really unlikely. I’m 99% certain that the system on the last world was something that Ujali did, and I can’t imagine that Inquisitors create copies of a SARA that cover the whole world all that often. Besides, I don’t think what he did is quite the same as what I do. I just siphon a bit of free life energy; he took its spirit, not its life. And it left him tired afterward, not stronger.”
Thinking back on it, I couldn’t help but nod in agreement. “Yeah, that’s true. It did seem to take a lot out of him—are you sure they’re a him, by the way?”
“No, not really, but he seems to have the same parts that you do. Of course, male and female can mean different things on different worlds, and some worlds don’t have anything like genders—but if that were the case, I don’t think their language would have terms like ‘he’ and ‘she’, and it does.”
“Okay, we’ll stick with ‘him’ until we have reason to believe otherwise,” I laughed silently. “So, all we know is that he somehow claimed the bear’s spirit for unknown purposes, possibly beneficial, possibly dangerous.” I frowned slightly. “He also seemed to think that I could do it if I wanted. That must mean it’s common in this world.”
“Or that it’s a rare ability, one that you share, and those with it can recognize one another—the way Viora recognized your talent on Soluminos.”
“True. However, while I’m not good at reading sasquatch facial features, none of the others seemed very surprised when Aeld asked if I was going to claim it. The people in Soluminos were when they learned I could do magic. I think that means that it’s common enough that they expected it.”
“Good point,” she said after a moment. “And if that’s true, it narrows down the possibilities a bit. If anyone can claim a spirit, doing so is likely to be an either religious or magical act. Good insights, John!”
“Not bad for being in a brand-new world, huh?” I thought with a laugh.
“You do know, John, that even with your penalties, John, you’re functioning at a much higher level than you were on Earth, don’t you?” she laughed in reply. “Here, look.”
My status popped up before me, and I examined it with a frown.
John Gilliam, Master of Beasts
Mental Stats
Reason: 31 Intuition: 26 Perception: 21 Charm: 21
Physical Stats
Prowess: 26 Vigor: 27 Celerity: 12 Skill: 32
“See? Back on Earth, your Reason was around 9. Now, it’s 31. You’re much better at analyzing and reasoning than you ever were before. In fact, you’re far better than you were at pretty much everything.”
“Okay…” I said slowly, drawing out the word. “So, why don’t I feel like it? I feel slow, clumsy, and kind of stupid.”
“It’s all a matter of perspective. In Puraschim, your Reason was 69. Now, it’s less than half that. You feel slow-witted because compared to where you were an hour ago, you are slow-witted. The same for why you feel weak. Your Vigor went from 60 to 27, and your Celerity dropped by a third. Of course, you feel awful and clumsy. Plus, you’re in a body that’s taller, broader, and heavier than you’re used to. I’m honestly impressed that you’re doing as well as you are, all things considered—but you have to realize that you’re vastly improved from the body you had on Earth.”
I considered her words and gave a slight shake of my head. I didn’t feel all that stronger, smarter, or faster than I’d been on Earth. I trusted Sara, though, so if she said I was, I assumed she knew what she was talking about.
“Are you injured?”
Aeld’s rumbling voice distracted me from my conversation with Sara, and I quickly refocused on him. He’d dropped back to walk by my side, and although I couldn’t read his facial expressions yet, his voice sounded concerned.
“No,” I said with a shake of my head. “Well, not really. A little bruised and stiff, but that’s all.”
“Why do you keep shaking your head around, then? Are you trying to shake the snow and ice from your hair? If so, you shouldn’t; it’ll help keep you warmer.”
I just looked at him in surprise for a moment before I realized what he was talking about. I was so used to nodding my head and shaking it that I didn’t even realize I was doing it. That was a human gesture, though, and I wasn’t human anymore. I didn’t know what I was, but it made sense that a race of heavily furred creatures might have totally different body language. I’d have to be careful until I learned what was and wasn’t appropriate.
“My head’s a little fuzzy,” I explained, rubbing it and feigning a wince. “That thing knocked me around a bit.”
“Stornbyors are fearsome opponents,” he replied in an understanding tone. “Defeating one without the aid of a full hunting party is an impressive feat. With rest and food, your spirit will recover swiftly.”
“I could use both,” I chuckled, catching myself in the act of nodding at him again.
“They will have to wait, I’m afraid.” He glanced around at the landscape. “As will any further discussion. We enter the hunting grounds, and sound will alert our prey—and others like the stornbyor that would hunt us in turn.” He glanced meaningfully at me, and I resisted the urge to nod.
“I understand,” I simply replied. The response seemed to satisfy him, and he moved back into the lead, looking around once more. I did the same, trying to figure out what he was looking for.
Snow. All I saw, in every direction, was snow. Thick clouds overhead blocked out whatever sun this world had and poured frozen white crystals onto us from a leaden sky. The whipping wind grabbed that snow and swirled it around us, creating a curtain of white that obscured my vision. Packed fields of snow and ice stretched out in every direction, rising behind me and to the right and falling away before me and to the left. The wind and blowing snow hid anything else, and a glance behind me showed that it quickly filled in any tracks we might have made. Even with my Tracking skill and Deft Tracking ability, I struggled to make out our trail for more than fifty feet or so behind us, despite the wide path we should be leaving in the snow. I couldn’t even make out a direction like north or south; I had no idea how Aeld knew where we were going.
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He led us unerringly, though, never hesitating or slowing as we wound about. We didn’t head straight downward but curved at an angle, weaving our way down the mountainside. At one point, we slowed slightly, and two of the hunters peeled off to the side, disappearing in the snow. We continued at a slower pace for twenty minutes or so before they reappeared, each of them carrying the bloody corpses of several long, lean-bodied animals with a body like a white-furred rabbit but without the long ears. The things looked to be about two feet long, not counting their legs, and each had obviously died to a stab wound in their sides. The hunters moved to one of their number wearing a furred pack on their back and slipped their kills into that pack. When they lifted the flap covering it, I saw more white and gray-furred creatures stuffed within, and that made me realize that the hunting party hadn’t dressed, skinned, or harvested the fallen bear. Not that I could ask, of course; he’d already basically told me to shut my hole.
Our trek continued for hours, all spent in complete quiet. Despite the silence, I quickly realized that the party members communicated with one another somehow. Every so often, a group of the hunters peeled off from the main body, and we slowed for a time to allow them to catch back up. I watched Aeld carefully, trying to see what sort of signs or signals he might be sending, but as far as I could tell, he wasn’t doing anything with his hands or body. Either that, or whatever he was doing was too subtle for me to make out.
I spent that time trying to work out landmarks I could use to retrace my path—without much success—and observing the others. They all stood taller than me by a few inches at least, and most bulked wider, as well. They wore furs similar to the ones my adaptive clothing provided me and carried spears like mine, but their armaments were more extensive than that. Each had a crystalline knife strapped at their waist, and most of them carried a quiver of shorter spears with stabilizing fins that were obviously meant to be thrown. Those had copper spearheads rather than crystal or stone, barbed tips that looked like they would lodge in a creature if they struck. Each hunter also carried a fur-covered pack on their backs, and every so often, one pulled out some tool like a hammer, rope, or spikes. This group, I realized, had come prepared for a long trek, not a simple jaunt into the mountains.
The sky darkened as the hours slipped by, and the temperature dropped as twilight slid over us. The brightest part of the sky filled the horizon behind us and to my right, so I guessed were headed southeast, but I couldn’t be sure. If we were far enough to the north or south, the sun wouldn’t be setting in the west, and the frigid mountains and long twilight made me think that we were fairly far from this world’s equator.
And that thought made me realize that Sara was right. I wouldn’t have put those pieces together that quickly back on Earth. I sort of knew that twilight was longer farther from the equator, but I didn’t recall where I’d picked that bit of info up. I definitely didn’t think I would have dredged it up from the distant reaches of my memory so easily in my former life, much less use it to figure out where I probably was on this world. My brain still felt slow and fuzzy, but I guessed that slow and fuzzy were matters of perspective, not absolutes.
As the darkness set in, I realized that Aeld had picked up the pace a bit. He wasn’t jogging, but he and the other hunters moved purposefully, their steps crunching in the snow rather than silent as they had been. The hunters scanned the area around us constantly, their heads on a continual swivel, and they gripped their weapons more firmly, holding them in a guarding position rather than loosely beside them. Something was wrong; I didn’t know what, but I could read body language enough—even Bigfoot body language, I guessed—to be able to sense that there was danger somewhere nearby. I followed suit, having no problem keeping up with their pace, and kept my own gaze moving, not that I expected to see much. Between the snow and growing shadows, my visibility extended maybe thirty feet in all directions. By the time I spotted anything, it would be too late to do much about it.
Aeld held up a hand, and the hunters slowed to a stop. I caught their movement in time to avoid crashing into the shaman, although the effort made me stumble slightly in the snow. Forgetting his admonition to be quiet in my irritation, I couldn’t help but speak.
“What’s wrong?” I demanded, my deep voice rumbling in the quiet. I bit my lip as the others looked at me in what I took as accusation, but Aeld gave me a calm gaze with no sign of anger or annoyance.
“Despite our caution, something has our trail,” he said easily, his voice unperturbed.
I glanced behind us as the tracks quickly being washed away in the snow but didn’t mention them. I knew that most animals hunted by things like scent and sound, not the sight or tracks, and while the snow might muffle sound, it wouldn’t do much for our scent. Still, it looked like the entire hunting party was here, and that begged a question.
“How can you tell?” I asked curiously, looking back at him.
“I can feel the presence of their spirits following us.”
“Their? So, there’s more than one? Can you tell what it is?” Even as I asked, I realized that any answer he gave would mean nothing to me. Still, I hated feeling hunted, and any information was better than none.
“No,” he replied, his voice faintly troubled at his admission. “I’m not even certain of their numbers. There could be several—or just one. Something’s obscuring my senses.” He looked toward one of the other hunters for a moment, then back at me. “It’s very likely nothing more than a flock of dimmelfargs—the mist-birds aren’t uncommon in the heights, and they’re perpetually curious—but…” He fell silent, and I understood. He didn’t really believe that it was the dimmel-whatevers. He suspected something worse; something dangerous.
“We should find someplace defensible, then,” I suggested.
“Indeed, the very reason I stopped. Give me a moment to see if there’s anything suitable nearby.” He sat down and closed his eyes, laying his staff across his lap.
“John, use See Magic,” Sara suggested, and I quickly turned the ability on.
A gossamer glow of gray mist swirled around Aeld’s chest, and a similar glow ebbed softly from the crystal on his staff. A translucent wisp, formless and chaotic, seemed to flow out of the crystal and rise into the air. A tiny thread of power, almost invisible against the snow, joined the shape to the crystal tenuously. The blob hesitated for a second, then streaked outward, vanishing swiftly from sight, leaving only its connecting thread behind. I couldn’t see the creature, but the thread shifting about, changing directions rapidly, seeming to thicken and lessen over and over again as it danced around the compass. Obviously, the thread linked whatever magic Aeld was using back to him; I simply couldn’t figure out what he was doing. The blob was certainly a spell, but the way it shifted and moved seemed almost alive.
The amorphous mass suddenly whisked back into sight and sank into the crystal, and the glow around Aeld faded at once. The shaman opened his eyes and rose to his feet, looking at me and blinking a few times as if in disorientation.
“There’s some sort of shelter that way,” he said, pointing over his left shoulder with his staff. “Come. Let’s see if it will serve.”
The shaman set off, and after hesitating a moment, I followed behind. “Any idea what he did, Sara?” I asked silently.
“I’m not 100% sure, John. Obviously, that was a spell, but you’re right. It did act as it if were alive somehow.”
“Is that possible? Can a spell be alive?”
She laughed quietly in my mind. “John, in the entirety of the Doorverse, there really isn’t much that’s not possible. Yes, in some higher-tiered worlds, magic can be alive, aware, and even intelligent. There could be entire civilizations of sapient spells, formed out of solid magical energy.”
“Okay, so why couldn’t I go somewhere like that?” I laughed back. “Why am I here, freezing my nuts off instead?”
“Because your body and mind can’t handle worlds like that yet, I’m afraid. You remember the spell Ilinca used on Soluminos to shatter the moons? The rune that Kamath activated? Those were lesser magic. Powerful lesser magic, to be sure, but just lesser magic.”
She suddenly appeared beside me, walking along in the snow without leaving a trace of her passage—which made sense since she only existed in my mind and senses. She was shorter than me by a couple inches, with blonde hair touched lightly by hints of red that fell in waves to her shoulders. Her face was petite, almost elfin, but her cheekbones and jaw both looked stronger and squarer than I remembered them. Originally, she’d looked exactly like Skye, my former weapons designer and one of the few people I trusted, but she was apparently slowly shifting her appearance so resemble what I considered my ideal.
“I won’t go into all the details here, but the power levels on high-tier worlds—just the ambient power, mind you, not the concentrated power of technology or magic—are thousands to millions of times stronger than those spells. If you went to one with the stats you have, you’d burn out and die in seconds. Assuming you didn’t, though, even trying to cast a spell would obliterate you.” She shook her head with a rueful smile. “No, you aren’t ready for worlds like that just yet.”
“So, if I accidentally step into one, I’ll know it because I—blow up?” I asked in disbelief. “That’s not very reassuring!”
“Oh, there’s no danger of that!” She laughed again. “Your trips aren’t entirely random, John. Your Seal is guiding you. When you step through a Door, you’re actually very briefly stepping into the Nexus, and from there, your Seal opens a path to a world that matches your abilities and has a growing imbalance. It even guides you to a spot near a soon-to-be-active imbalance, so you don’t have to wander across the world looking for clues.”
I blinked in surprise at that. “That’s pretty handy,” I admitted.
“It is, and it’s the main reason for your Seal in the first place. Your Seal is drawn to imbalance—it’s what lets you sense it, in fact—but it’s also able to roughly match the energies beyond a door to yours. So, you won’t accidentally step into a high-tier world and destroy yourself. Your Seal would stop you.”
That was something of a relief. I was curious about higher-tiered worlds—I wanted to see what really powerful magic was like, of course, but I also wanted to visit places with super advanced tech. If a place had a decent magic rating and really high tech, even higher than Earth, I might even be able to get the Jedi profession, or something similar. That would be amazing!
Aeld led us around the slope of a mountain, then stopped before an ice-covered rock face. He frowned, then reached out and slammed the butt of his staff into the rock. The rock shivered and trembled, and a ripple seemed to pass through the sheet of ice covering it. A wave of snow and ice dropped away from the rock, revealing a shallow cave about thirty feet deep beyond.
“Here,” the shaman said unnecessarily. “This will serve.” He stepped back, and the hunters moved inside, using their spears to dislodge and clear away clumps of ice, snow, and loose rock on the floors. I moved to join them, but before I could take a step, Aeld reached out and held a hand in front of my chest, stopping me but not touching me.
“Tell me Freyd. That stornbyor—was it wounded when you found it? Did it seem ill or weakened?” His voice was calm as he asked, but I could hear a touch of concern in it.
“No,” I said, stopping myself at the last second before I shook my head in negation. “At least, not that I could tell. It was just pissed off. Why?”
“Because if you fought and killed a stornbyor by yourself, I ask that you stay here, with me, while the other prepare the shelter.” His voice was grave as he spoke, and I couldn’t help but feel a touch of suspicion at his words.
“Why?” I demanded, taking a step back and adjusting my grip on my spear. I didn’t know what he was implying, but it sounded like he meant to sacrifice me or something.
“Because they’ll need time to prepare…” He stopped as a series of howls ripped through the air, startlingly loud in their nearness. I jerked my head toward them and shifted my spear, pointing it in the general direction of the sound.
“…and the pack is upon us,” the shaman finished in a quiet voice, lifting his spear. “Ready yourself, Freyd. The hunt is about to begin.”