Chapter 26

The sorceress quickly recognised where Amber was leading them. Her parents ran a butcher’s shop around the corner from Kindred Currency. Many people along the way, seeing that Dreya the Dark had come among them, hastily secured their shops and stalls and began to follow them. The guards were vigilant but didn’t try to prevent the gathering. By the time they reached Amber’s parents, there was a considerable crowd.

Dreya had concealed herself to try and avoid attention, but her actions had made that impossible, so she decided she might as well try and take advantage. For once, though, she wasn’t thinking of her own benefit, but theirs. Dreya didn’t like what she’d learned about these Cultists and while she was still determined not to act directly, perhaps she could inspire these people before things got too bad.

As soon as she saw them, Amber ran to her parents, who had obviously been frantic with worry. They swept her in a warm embrace, thanking the stars that their daughter was safe.

“The stars didn’t save me,” the girl admonished them, sternly. “It was Dreya the Dark!”

When Amber beckoned Dreya over, her parents did a double-take at the sight of the Faery in their midst. They must have been the only people in that part of Axford who had failed to notice her. So focused had they been on the return of their daughter.

As Dreya stepped forward, she couldn’t help contrasting the reaction of Amber’s parents with that of her own, when Andreyanka had told them what had happened. They were far more concerned about the threat of evil humans invading their lands and murdering innocent Faery folk, than with the fact that their child had almost died. Much more worried about the scandal Andreyanka had apparently brought upon the family reputation, than with her safe return. Far more interested in finding ways to appease the families of the poor, innocent, angelic girls that Andreyanka had obviously led astray with her wicked ways, than in believing her account of what really happened.

Still, Dreya wasn’t prepared to let Amber’s parents off the hook. She was sure her misgivings about their apparent illusions of safety applied to many others here. Unfortunately for Amber’s parents, they were in her line of sight.

Amber’s mother, through smiles and tears, thanked her over and over for saving her daughter. Her father, grinning broadly and vigorously shaking her hand, asked, “How can we possibly repay you?”

“You can start by explaining why you taught your daughter to be a victim,” she replied.

There were gasps from the crowd. Smiles faded. Conversations ceased. Silence fell.

His face flushing a deep golden colour, Amber’s father demanded, “I beg your pardon?”

Dreya put on the impassive face that she always used when emotion was going to get in the way of a dispassionate argument.

“I know something of Chetsuans,” she began. “I’m starting to know two quite well. They’ve told me how it was, growing up here, never knowing if you were going to be snatched by a dragon. But they knew dragons weren’t the only predators out there, so they learned to fight.

“They recognised the value of their lives, and they knew it was right to protect themselves and each other. Your daughter didn’t understand that. I gave her the means to protect her life, and she refused. She chose to be a victim. I didn’t save your daughter from the Cultists; I saved her from herself.

“Perhaps the dragons were a threat beyond your ability to fight. I accept that. Who knows? Maybe there are things out there beyond even me, but the Chetsuans I know would never have allowed themselves to be victims of fanatics like your Cultists.”

“But the world is different now!” Amber’s father protested. “Because of you, the dragons no longer threaten us. We don’t want our daughter to grow up the way we did. We want a world where children are safe and don’t have to think about protecting their lives because they’re never in danger.”

Dreya nodded. “That would be a beautiful world, and if you know the co-ordinates, I’ll take you there myself. If not, I’m afraid you’ll have to face the reality of this one.”

“It’s alright, Dreya,” Amber spoke up. “I can learn how to fight if someone threatens me with a knife in future.”

Dreya’s expression never wavered as she looked down at her. There was no threat there, but all the same, Amber couldn’t look her in the eye.

“This isn’t about knives,” the sorceress explained, “it’s about ideas. Amber, why were you there in the first place? From what I’ve seen of your parents, I doubt they sent you anywhere near The Pit.”

“Dear stars!” her mother exclaimed, bringing a hand to her face in horror. “That’s where you were?” Amber nodded guiltily. “Why, Amber? Why would you go to that horrible place?”

“Yes, tell us, Amber,” Dreya commanded her.

Sniffling, the girl explained that her mother had wanted to take her out to help her gather supplies from various places around the town, but Amber had wanted to go herself, insisting that since she had turned fifteen a few days ago, that meant she was now old enough. Her parents had relented. Everywhere she needed to go, the people who owned and ran those businesses knew Amber and her parents well, so they could see no harm.

Along the way, however, three figures in white robes approached her, acting friendly, gaining her trust. They told her they knew a secret place where she could get everything she needed at half the price.

“Think how proud your parents will be if their clever daughter can save them a lot of money,” they said.

Amber had agreed to let them show her. They led her straight to The Pit, made sure she was thoroughly lost and then turned on her. They told her that her parents were evil for having money and material things. They insisted that the whole town was wicked, and they should devote themselves to the Creator. They promised that if she handed over everything she had, then she could be Blessed, brought closer to the Creator. By which, of course, they meant they were going to kill her.

The security chief expanded on this, explaining what he knew about how the Cult operated. The only reason they didn’t kill Amber straight away was that they wanted her to admit they were right. Admit that her parents’ money, and by extension, her parents themselves, were evil. By handing everything over, she would be confessing that she, too, was evil for having it and in the end, she would beg them to Cleanse her. Then the Cultists’ views would be confirmed, and they would kill her, secure in the belief that they were doing the Creator’s work.

Dreya had surmised most of that already, having seen what that last Cultist was doing to Amber. Twisting her mind. Getting her to believe that the people who had chased and threatened her were good, and the one trying to save her was evil.

“But it all started with you, didn’t it, Amber?” Dreya’s tone was stern. A tone that demanded an honest answer.

Amber nodded. “It was stupid,” she admitted.

“If there really was a place that could sell genuine goods for half price, why would they keep it secret?” her mother asked, rhetorically.

“I’ve only just met you,” Dreya told Amber, “but I know you’re smarter than that. Like I say, this isn’t about knives. The best way to survive a knife fight is to never get in one in the first place. That’s the first and most important lesson in survival: don’t make yourself a victim. Use your head. Think.”

Addressing the crowd in general, she declared, “You’re letting these Cultists infect you with their ideas. That’s far more dangerous than any knife. You’ve obviously built your new world on a foundation of freedom, which I respect, but it’s an unfortunate truth that wherever there is freedom, there will be people who want to take it away because they think it’s evil.

“You are not evil people. Trying to build something, make something of your lives is not evil. This place is not evil, but it is sick. In ‘The Pit,’ a rot has set in, and the Cultists are accelerating that infection. They call it Cleansing. They call it Purifying. But really, they are the disease.”

“It’s not as simple as that!” objected a voice in the crowd. “Not all the Cultists are violent or infectious as you say. Many are peaceful. They just have their beliefs.”

“I never claimed it was simple,” Dreya returned, “and I’m not proposing pitchforks and flaming torches.” Seeing the blank looks, she realised what she’d said. It was funny how Jessica’s Earth expressions seemed to take root so much that she would use one without thinking. “I mean, I’m not suggesting a witch hunt,” she translated. “Some people once subjected me to a witch hunt,” she added as an aside.

“I’m betting that didn’t end well for the hunters,” Amber piped up.

Dreya smiled. “Like I said, you’re smart. No, it’s not that simple. I could hunt down and kill every last Cultist in Axford, but that wouldn’t kill the idea. Even my magic can’t do that. I’m not here to offer a magic solution. This is your world, and you have to solve your own problems.”

A murmur from the crowd told her that her message was getting through.

“She’s right,” Amber’s mother asserted, stepping forward. “Somehow, we’ve allowed an idea to take root. The idea that building a life for ourselves and wanting to protect what we have is evil. We joke about it, we laugh about it, but deep down, many of us are starting to wonder.”

“Amber, I’m so sorry if we ever made you think your life isn’t worth protecting,” her father told her. “You had every right to defend yourself, please don’t ever think you don’t.”

“But don’t go putting yourself in danger, either!” her mum scolded, wagging her finger, sternly.

“I won’t, Mama,” the girl promised.

Another voice in the crowd spoke up. “We’ve been so focused on the end of the dragon threat that we’ve turned a blind eye to more insidious dangers.”

The crowd were buzzing now, and Dreya was beginning to think her work was done, but a dissenting male voice raised an objection.

“From what I hear, the Cultists are a worldwide problem. Even if we do find a way to snuff out the trouble in our local community, what difference will it make?”

The crowd quietened at that, and doubt threatened to take hold once more. Dreya would not allow it. The sun was starting to drift down, now, as afternoon gave way to evening, and the growing shadows gave Dreya an idea.

“Amber, can you help me with something really important?” she asked.

“Like what?” she wondered.

“I think I remember seeing a candlemaker opposite Kindred Currency. Do you know it?”

The girl nodded.

“Well, I don’t know my way around here like you do. Do you think you could take us all there?”

Again, she nodded.

“If your parents say it’s OK, of course,” Dreya added, giving them a questioning look.

“Can I?” Amber asked them eagerly. “Please?”

They both agreed it was OK for her to help, so she grabbed Dreya’s hand and led her to where she wanted to go.

When they reached the candlemaker’s stall, Dreya took in the arrangement of twenty of various sizes and colours that were on display and lit them all with a snap of her fingers.

“The Cultists are a worldwide problem,” she began, echoing the point for the benefit of the newcomers in the audience. “Their ideas threaten to burn down communities like yours everywhere. What happens if you extinguish the Cultist’s fire here?” To Amber, she asked, “Can you show us what that looks like?”

The girl stepped forward and blew out one of the candles.

“What difference does it make?” Dreya continued. “Well, for a start, you save your local community, which is a victory all by itself. Then what happens when your neighbouring communities hear how you snuffed out the flame here?” She once more turned to the girl she had saved. “Can you show us, Amber?”

She carefully blew out the candles immediately adjacent to the first one.

“See?” the sorceress prompted. “Amber’s smart. She gets it.”

The girl beamed all over her face.

“Your neighbours can learn from your pioneering efforts and extinguish these dangerous flames in their communities, too. So, what if every community in the world snuffs out the Cultists’ ideas in their own backyard? What difference does it make?” This time, Amber didn’t even need to be asked. She just blew out all the remaining candles.

“All the fires go out!” Amber announced.

“You are not evil people,” Dreya reiterated. “You can make this a better world for yourselves and for your children, but only if you’re willing to protect it. Don’t make yourselves victims.”

As her lesson sunk in, a ripple of applause began, which grew in intensity. Cheers began, becoming a roar of determined people, rising to the challenge.

Amber’s mother stepped close to the sorceress, trying to make herself heard. “Amber completely adores you now, Dreya. You’re obviously really good with kids.”

Dreya laughed. “Tell that to my fiancée!”

“But why do all this?” asked Amber’s father.

The sorceress considered the question. “Do my motives matter?” she wondered, to herself as much as anyone else.

“Not really,” he replied. “I’m just curious.”

“The Cultists’ ideas are a form of tyranny,” she began, by way of answer. “I hate tyrants. It’s a personal thing. Back home, some people still think I’m a tyrant-in-waiting myself. I like to prove that’s wrong whenever I can.”

“Even when they can’t see you do it, like here and now?” Amber wondered.

Dreya smiled grimly. “You misunderstand me. I’m not trying to prove anything to them. I couldn’t care less what they think of me. I have a few friends and their opinions matter, but ultimately I’m proving it to myself.”

“To yourself?” Amber’s mother wondered, not understanding.

Dreya nodded. “I took an impenetrable fortress, defended by terrible magic, in five minutes. I had effective control of our magical government within a week. I wrested your world from the claws of the dragons in a spare afternoon. I defeated a dark clone of Daelen StormTiger in under an hour. I can obviously travel to other worlds, and I am one of Three Guardians who can manipulate Time. With such power as I possess, there come certain...temptations.

“The truth is, I could be a tyrant. Very easily. I could be a tyrant that put all other tyrants to shame. So, every so often, I like to prove to myself that I can choose not to be. I can do better. I can be better. The dragons think I’m terrifying, and I am. But with you, today, I chose not to be.”

“And what about tomorrow?” asked Amber.

Dreya ruffled the girl’s hair affectionately, but her voice was deadly serious as she answered the incredibly astute question.

“I may be a Guardian of Time, but even I can’t see the future.”

The noise had died down by now, so Dreya shared one last thought with the crowd. “What you’ve built here in the last ten years is truly impressive. If, the next time I come here, I find that you’ve let anything spoil or destroy it, I will be very upset, and you don’t want to upset Dreya the Dark. Just ask the dragons.”

It briefly occurred to her that she’d just referred to herself in the third person, but on this occasion, she decided it was warranted.

With that, she excused herself, moving over to the candlemaker to pay for the candles she’d used for her impromptu demonstration. The owner protested that it wasn’t necessary, but Dreya insisted it was.

“You can no longer sell those candles as new,” she pointed out, “which means you’ve lost money. Money that keeps a roof over your head and food on your table. I will not steal from you. I always pay my debts. It’s a personal thing.”

The owner bagged up the barely used candles and told her the price. Dreya paid it, but that meant she didn’t have enough left for the cheese she’d intended to buy in the first place. Fortunately, Kindred Currency was just across the way.

Kian, who had served her before, remarked, “If I’d known I had Dreya the Dark for a customer, I could have given you extra.”

“I concealed my identity precisely because I did not want special treatment, although you can see how well that worked out. Now, I just have one question, which you have one chance to answer honestly and through my magic, I can tell if someone is lying.” She actually couldn’t, but the lie was useful motivation, and she would admit to it in a moment. “You knew I was a traveller who didn’t understand the value of your currency. That would have made me a tempting target to some. So, was your valuation fair, or did you take advantage?”

The man looked offended. “As the proprietor of Kindred Currency, I pride myself on my honest treatment of my customers, whoever they may be. The price was exactly the same as I would have offered to anyone. I do not cheat my customers.”

Dreya smiled. “Excellent,” she approved, admitting her own rare lie and apologising for any offence. “Do you think an official endorsement from Dreya the Dark would serve as compensation?”

The man grinned and admitted, “I believe it would at that.”

“Then I’ll leave you to draw up something you feel is appropriate. Just one thing: if you decide to go with some kind of Faery motif, just remember that Faery are not little creatures with wings.”

The man looked puzzled. “Why would anyone think that?” he wondered.

Dreya shrugged. “You’d be surprised.”

*****

Having withdrawn enough money, gentle reader, Aunt Dreya said a quick farewell to Amber and her family. Then she restored her Timeless connection to Catriona’s Meadow, making her invisible to the locals so she could slip away. When she was close to where she came in, she returned to the Timestream, making sure to conceal her face with her hood once more.

My aunt stepped up to Lex’s Cheeses and asked to buy the kind that she had sampled earlier.

Of course, Dreya had no more idea about the weights and measures system then she had about the currency, but he gave her an amount that looked and felt similar to what she usually bought in Gaggleswick. She was entirely satisfied with that.

“I heard there was some kind of disturbance,” Lex remarked, conversationally.

“Apparently, Dreya the Dark turned up and gave a lecture,” she replied.

“Damn,” Lex cursed, “I wish I’d been there. Meeting Dreya the Dark would have been quite something, don’t you think?”

Dreya nodded thoughtfully. “Yes,” she agreed. “I suppose it would.”

With that, she walked away, but as soon as she became Timeless once more, the blast of a desperate sympathic message nearly knocked her off her feet. It was a distress call: Mandalee was in trouble.