I have a message from another time... Eyrie Productions, Unlimited presents UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES FUTURE IMPERFECT - SYMPHONY OF THE SWORD No. 2 - Interlude at Vortigern's Lake in C Major Benjamin D. Hutchins (c) 2002 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 25, 2406 AVALON COUNTY HIGHWAY 17 AVALON COUNTY, ZETA CYGNI DYSON SPHERE /* Joe Satriani "Speed of Light" _Time Machine_ */ The car was an antique, a 2042 Sunrise Motorworks Griffon Mark II limousine. Turbine-powered, long, low, black and sleek, it glided northwestward from New Avalon along Highway 17 at a leisurely hundred miles per hour, climate field engaged, windows down, sound system painting the countryside with snippets of antique rock music. This direction out from New Avalon, there was countryside to spare; the farms that helped to sustain the great city began almost at the city limits and sprawled outward for miles, rolling in great waves of grain and vegetables to the feet of the mountains far to the north. That was in the summer, of course; right now, the fields were nothing but great expanses of snow, dazzling white in the bright sunlight of the day. There wasn't much traffic on Highway 17, even in the summer, with the underground trains to carry the products of the farms to the city; only leisure cruisers, farmers making their way to and from the city for business or pleasure, and people making for those distant mountains. On this winter's day, the Griffon had the highway pretty much to itself. The driver of the antique Griffon turned his head for a moment and grinned at his passenger. At the moment, with a week to himself in one of the nicest places he knew, his car running perfectly, and one of his favorite people by his side, Corwin Ravenhair seemed more-than-reasonably content with life. In the passenger seat, Utena Tenjou grinned in return, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes, letting the thermally regulated but fresh air of a winter's day in the farm country of Avalon wash over her face and carry her worries away. She was home - amazing, the idea that she'd come to think of the glittering golden city in the sphere as "home" in just a year and a half - for a stolen week's break, released (temporarily) from C-term's finals at the Deedlit Satori Mandeville Memorial Institute by a massive snowstorm that had paralyzed most of the northern hemisphere of Jeraddo. Free from responsibility, free from care, free to wander off into the countryside with Corwin for a week. What could be better? In this world, anyway? One worry remained, but that one would care for itself, given time, so she tried not to dwell on it. Instead she enjoyed the drive, the music, and the comfortable quiet beyond it. She and Corwin said not a word in the two hours it took them to reach their destination. That destination was a service road on the outskirts of a remote farm community that rejoiced in the rather odd name "Prisoner's Base". The road, accessible only with a special transponder code, led into the mountains beyond that town, through a pass, and to a lonely structure standing on what looked, from the road, like the edge of the world. It was a red-painted log cabin of modest dimensions, standing at the end of the road on a ridge, with nothing visible beyond it but the craggy peaks of the Clemens Mountains. As they'd ascended the mountains to this lofty perch, Corwin and Utena had noticed something a bit curious. Coming up here in the summer, Corwin had noticed a gradual transition, as altitude increased, from balmy summer warmth to an autumnal crispness to, at times, downright wintry conditions, with snow on the ground and sometimes more coming down. It did not seem logical to Corwin that, in the winter, the situation should be reversed, but that certainly seemed to be the case. As they climbed into the mountains, the snow gradually disappeared, the air outside warmed, until, as they arrived at the camp, the Griffon's instrument panel thermometer read seventy-two degrees. The Griffon glided to a halt in near-silence, then powered down with a quiet whine. Corwin and Utena climbed out, took off their coats, and stood looking around in puzzlement at the summery scene. "Well, this is damn peculiar," Corwin observed. "I thought so," Utena said, "but I've stopped taking things like that for granted, hanging around with you," she added, grinning. While Corwin busied himself getting things out of the trunk, she walked up the ridge to the camp and stood looking beyond. "Wow," she said. The ridge overlooked a lake, round and glittering, perhaps a mile across and surrounded by the wooded mountains on all sides. There was no sign of another structure or another person on any of the shoreline Utena could see from where she stood, and that was most of it, if she was any judge. Corwin came up behind her, grocery bags hanging from both hands, and grinned. "Pretty, isn't it?" he asked. "Beautiful," she replied. "Vortigern's Lake," said Corwin. "Dad had it put here when they terraformed the pseudocontinent. Says he based it on a memory of a couple of places on Earth that aren't there anymore." "Is this the only camp?" "Yep. According to Dad, neighbors are for in town." Utena laughed and tore herself away from the view to help him carry in the provisions and luggage. That secured, they opened the place up - checked the window screens, opened the windows to air out, took the dropcloths off the furniture, and such. Corwin started the power reactor; Utena hooked up the gas bottle to the cookstove. By then it was time for lunch, which was a collaborative effort that came out quite well, if the two of them did say so themselves. They ate it at the table on the screen porch overlooking the lake. From up here, Utena could see the path down the rocky ridgeside to the beach, the dock jutting out into the lake, and the boat shed, standing off to one side. "Is there a boat in that shed?" she asked between bites of her steak sandwich. "Of course," Corwin replied. "What's a lakeside camp without a boat? How would you go fishing?" "Is the lake warm enough to swim?" "Damned if I know," said Corwin. "Thing's supposed to be frozen solid this time of year. Somebody's been up to something." "Another favor from your grandfather?" "Could be. Or one of my aunts." "Well, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, I suppose." Corwin grinned. "Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, the time of year it -feels- like it is, the lake tends to be in the high sixties, so I guess that ought to be good enough for swimming." "High sixties? Bit chilly." "Bah. Bracing," he replied with a grin. Utena shook her head in mock resignation. "Vikings," she said. They had a week on Vortigern's Lake, seven days in the beautiful (and peculiarly balmy) wilderness with nothing to do but whatever they felt like. No computers, no telephone (except the one in the car, which everyone they knew had been instructed not to call except in dire emergency), no powerboats roaring around on the lake, no aircraft overhead; nothing but the songs of slightly confused birds and the wind and the gentle lapping of the lake. The weather was wildly unseasonable: beautiful, clear and sunny, warm but not hot. For three days, Utena and Corwin pursued indolence and leisure with industry and single-minded determination. They paddled around the lake in an unsinkable green Old Town canoe, and had cause to be thankful that it was unsinkable when Corwin managed to overturn it smack in the middle of the lake. They marveled at the incredible clarity of the water, so clear that the bottom could easily be seen even at the two-hundred-foot depth of the center, Corwin's lost pocket change glittering up at them like secret treasure from the white sand. They swam under somewhat more intentional circumstances too, racing to the Big Rock and back, laughing a lot, and making fairly convincing efforts at drowning each other. Not expecting the weather to be so summery, they hadn't brought proper attire for such an activity, but as the saying goes, necessity is the mother of invention. On Monday night, as they had the two nights previous, Corwin and Utena went to bed early, climbing into the pair of twin beds in the loft at the decadently early hour of half past nine. Then they lay awake for over two hours, talking in the dark about this and that, everything and nothing in particular. With a vague plan to cross the lake in the morning and perhaps do a spot of camping on the far side, they finally drifted off into contented sleep around midnight. Corwin wondered where he was. Wherever it was, it was cold, cold enough to make even his Norse blood run slow. He couldn't see much of anything; a howling wind laced with driving, stinging, sleety snow saw to that. He struggled forward through the tempest, feeling his traveling clothes whip all around him, the unfamiliar weight of a pack at shoulder and hip, the reassuring solidity of Stick in his hand. His right knee was stiff, painful; his left side stabbed at him every time he moved. He kept blinking some dark obstruction out of his right eye; raising a hand, he felt the chill stickiness of spilled and freezing blood. A short distance ahead was a structure, its exact nature impossible to determine in the howling snowstorm. He could make out a vaguely rounded silhouette, a darker patch in the white-smeared darkness, and a small disk of yellow light. A dwelling, perhaps, lighted from within? Whatever it was, it offered his best chance of survival in this storm. He gritted his teeth and made his way toward it. It didn't get any more distinct as he approached, only larger; and just as he reached out to try and touch it, something smashed into his forehead and shattered the entire world. He pitched backward, weightless, falling - - and didn't hit the ground, plunging instead into a maelstrom of a different kind, a swirling vortex of icy water mingled with long, brilliant streamers of what looked like blood, but didn't diffuse properly. The scientist in him wondered at that while the rest, stunned, sank ever deeper into the whirlpool. Some survival imperative kicked in; his body, wracked all over by pain now, thrashed against the cavitating water, trying to find some purchase. Nothing offered itself; he found himself sucked further down, the salt water stinging his eyes. Desperate now, he thrust out a hand - Stick was gone - trying to grab hold of something, anything. His palm touched something smooth and slender; he seized it, wrapping his powerful fingers around it for dear life, and felt something grab hold of his wrist. Orientation reasserted itself. The arm - it was an arm, somebody's arm - he had seized was up and the vortex was dragging him down. He tried to look up, but there wasn't much he could see with all this blood in his eyes. He could feel that the hand was slender, smooth, probably a woman's, and there was the hard coldness of a ring, but he could discern nothing else. He raised his other hand, tried to grab onto the arm, but it was slick, slick and sticky at the same time. His grip and that of his unseen savior faltered, almost dropping him back into the vortex. No - wait - he'd been wrong. The arm wasn't up, it was down; its owner was the one in danger of falling into the vortex. The sky above Corwin was dark, almost black, the eerie, subtly-wrong darkness of an eclipse. He set his feet against an edge of crumbling stone; the muscles in the backs of his legs and his back screamed in protest. Above him, a sound like the wings of a million metallic bats. He wanted to look up, but he couldn't, not and keep hold of whoever it was that was falling over the edge. Off to the side of his field of view, a locked, sealed door of white stone mocked him. His strength deserting him fast, Corwin gritted his teeth, locked both of his hands on the wrist of the unseen person in need of his help, and heaved with all his strength. The stone gave way beneath his right foot, nearly dumping him over the edge with the one he was trying to rescue, but he adjusted his stance - feeling something in his leg tear with the unexpected extra effort - and then he could feel it working, his burden rising, himself toppling back toward the solid ground and safety. The only worrisome thing now was that mysterious metallic fluttering. That was when he saw the swords. Utena Tenjou awoke from a rerun of the Tournament's final minutes to the sound of a bloodcurdling scream, and for a moment, as she sat bolt upright and threw off her covers, she thought it was an echo of the dream. It took her a few moments to realize, as a roar of thunder shook the camp by Vortigern's Lake, that it hadn't been. But it hadn't come from her, either, that much was certain - She looked to her left, and a moment later a flash of lightning showed her Corwin, his face marred by a heart-stopping look of utter terror, his chest heaving for breath beneath the silver- buttoned black expanse of his pajama jacket. In an instant she'd switched on the little wall lamp between the two beds and jumped from one to the other, an arm around Corwin's shoulders, her other hand holding his. "Corwin, it's OK. You're in Avalon. You're safe," she told him urgently. "Corwin? Can you hear me?" Corwin blinked, the wildness fading from his eyes, and he blinked rapidly, nodding. "Yeah... yeah... I hear you," he panted, then took a deep breath and tried to get his breathing under control. "Whoa," he said after a few moments. "That was... whoa." "Bad dream?" she asked. He nodded. "Damn straight. Worst I've ever had." He felt at his chest with splay-fingered hands as if checking himself for wounds, then scrubbed his palms over his face, fingers combing through his thick black hair. "God DAMN. Which is worse?" he asked rhetorically. "Freezing to death, having your head smashed in, drowning, or being slashed to ribbons by flying swords?" Utena blinked, giving him an alarmed look. "Flying swords?" "Hundreds of 'em. Maybe thousands." "Maybe a million?" Corwin glanced at her sharply, then looked thoughtfully horrified as her implication sank in. "Maybe," he murmured. "I was just... revisiting the last day," Utena explained. Corwin gave her a troubled look. "It's the 28th of February," he said. "I... yeah," Utena replied, nodding gravely. Unable to go back to sleep right away, they went downstairs. Utena made tea; they took it out on the porch, opened the windows, and watched the storm rage, whipping the lake into whitecaps that each slash of lightning revealed. The wind screamed through the insect screens, making the hurricane lamp between them flicker slightly. The chill mist of rain slapping through the screens and the faint scent of ozone from the lightning flavored the air with the unique taste of a springtime thunderstorm. They didn't speak at all, just sat across the little table from each other, sipping tea and thinking while the storm flogged Vortigern's Lake. When they finished their tea, the storm was mostly spent. Still in silence, they went upstairs again. Without exchanging a word, they climbed together into Corwin's bed, arranged themselves in the barely-sufficient space that the twin frame had to offer, turned out the light, and went uneasily back to sleep. In the morning, they were subdued; the day was grey and rainy, no longer storming, just dismal. Utena put on a pot of belgad stew, Corwin's father's recipe, to simmer through the day; then she and Corwin stayed inside and waited for it to be ready. Corwin built a fire, which so far had only needed doing at night, and they spent most of the day in the camp's main room, reading, playing quiet games. They didn't speak much. The whole day had an air of foreboding gloom hanging over it; both could feel it and neither had to ask if the other could too. It was as though something terrible were happening elsewhere, something which the two of them, there in the little camp on Vortigern's Lake, should have been paying attention to, but couldn't. The grey afternoon melted into a black evening almost unnoticeably. The change reminded Corwin of the hour hand of a clock: you never see it move, but if you look away, and look back a bit later, it's in a different place. Sometime after lunch, Corwin baked biscuits, then a small cake. Sometime after dark, the stew was ready. They put candles on the table, lit the oil lamps all around the camp's main room, turned off the electric lights, and were immediately heartened by the warm, cheery way in which the flames, added to the firelight, helped to dispel the air of grey gloom that had pervaded the place all day. Dinner - stew and biscuits - was accompanied by a red wine from Alfheim which Gudrun Truemace, Valkyrie alcohol aficionado, had recommended highly. As this was poured, Utena mustered her first smile of the day. "This isn't exactly legal, is it?" she asked with an impish little smile. Heartened to see it, however little it was, after such a gloomy day, Corwin grinned and replied, "Man's got a right to a drink in the privacy of his own lake." "Or his father's." "Or his father's," Corwin agreed with a ready nod. "Drink up, now - Gudrun tells me this wine isn't actually very good, but assures me that, not being Serious Wine Connoisseurs, we'll like it a lot better than a good one." Utena gave her wineglass a dubious look, then took a sip. "Huh," she said. "She's right. This is a lot better than that super-expensive stuff Touga used to serve at his parties." Through the meal, they made small talk - "This stew is fantastic," "I wonder how much snow Jeraddo has by now," and so forth. Not until they'd finished the main course and moved on to the cake did they speak of anything not light and essentially meaningless. Then, as Corwin placed it between then and returned to his seat, Utena picked up her wineglass, regarded it in the flickering light of the candle at the center of the table, and sighed, almost snuffing that candle. "Well, Anthy," she said, "looks like I didn't make it by your next birthday, like I said I wanted to last year... but I'm still hoping," she said. "My friends are all pulling for me. Some of them never even met you, and they're all behind me anyway. They can't wait to meet you, and I can't wait for you to meet them." She looked across the table at Corwin and smiled. "One in particular," she added, "I think you'll find quite surprising." Corwin smiled, but said nothing. "Anyway," Utena went on, "I know you're out there, Anthy, and I'm getting closer every day. I really believe that. Keep your left up. Stay safe. I want nothing in this life more than to see you give me that look and hear you ask me where the hell I've been." She smiled with an odd mix of slyness and sadness, raised her glass, and said softly, "Happy birthday, Anthy Himemiya. Wherever you are... whatever you're doing tonight... know that Utena Tenjou misses you... and that she loves you." Corwin raised his glass; he and Utena tapped them together, drained them, and then threw them into the fire. Then they started on the cake. The next day, they woke from warm and dreamless sleep to find the sun resurgent and the freshly storm-scrubbed lake and forests gleaming with new vitality. Shaking off the pall of gloom that had hung over them all the previous day, Utena and Corwin plunged back into their routine of determined laziness with the renewed glee of reprieved prisoners. As they had planned to do the previous day, they crossed the lake and camped on the other side. They fished for trout, and fried what they caught for lunch. They wandered the woods, hiked up and down the nearest of the Clemens, climbed trees just for the hell of it. In a grassy field not far from shore, they spent an hour just throwing a baseball back and forth, because it was just that kind of afternoon, before breaking camp and paddling back to the cabin. On Thursday they drove into Prisoner's Base for ice cream (getting funny looks from the locals, who were still locked in the grip of a standard Avalon winter) and listened to the Knights lose to the Red Sox in spring training on the car radio. Then they went back into the impossibly summery mountains, and Corwin spent the afternoon teaching Utena to fly a New Avalon Police thrusterpack, using the lake itself as the biggest natural crashbag around. The days were bright and beautiful, the nights dark and delicious. There were no stars in the night sky of Avalon, of course, but the lights of the shipyard made for a reasonable imitation. Each night they played games, or read in the armchairs by the fire. They retired (back to their separate beds) early by town standards - only once after ten - then lay awake for hours talking. Talking about everything, from the school year in progress, to the day's activities, to the plan (such as they ever planned anything) for tomorrow, to nothing in particular - just talking for the sake of talking. If they reached a little, each into the gap between the beds, they could touch their hands together; sometimes they did this, and sometimes they just lay in the dark, enjoying the combination of closeness and solitude. Corwin told her the story of his and Leonard's ill-fated expedition to investigate the automated cargo handling system at Mathews Memorial Spaceport, which had resulted in their being baggage-handled all the way to Kane's World and coming home covered in equal parts glory and disrepute, accompanied by Dorothy Wayneright. Utena told him of the old days, the good parts, not the ill; he'd already heard the ill, and didn't need to hear them again. The two of them spent the whole week talking, and never once, until Thursday, did either one mention the reason why they'd come to Vortigern's Lake in the first place. Friday evening, five-thirty PM. Corwin and Utena lay sprawled, a double arm's length apart, on a grassy patch on the side of a mountain, facing west, watching Zeta Cygni fall slowly, redly toward the horizon. "So... " said Utena. "Mm?" said Corwin. "This is it, huh? Tomorrow's the day." Corwin nodded. "This is it." "Nervous?" she asked. "Not really," he replied. "A little, I guess - it's a big deal, after all. The leap to manhood and all that. It's important. Special. Kind of thing I don't want to screw up. But I'll be OK. I've been preparing for it all my life. And I'll have Nall to help me." He turned his head and grinned lazily at her. "And I've had you to help me prepare." Utena smiled. "Glad to help. It's nice of them to give you a week to get ready like this," she observed. "Mm," he said, returning his attention to the sky. "It's customary to make one's preparations companion a weapons master, and go off and train like hell for the grace week, but... " Corwin shrugged. "I don't need more training. I decided it'd be more useful to have a week of fun and quiet, build up my energy reserves, get myself down into the center as far as I can - and enjoy myself as much as possible, because Trials are never any fun." "We could have trained a -little-," Utena said, looking a trifle disappointed. "You know, all this time I've known you, I've seen you fight a bunch of times, but never had a chance to face you." "Well, when I get back we'll have to fix that," he said. "This week I just wanted to take it easy." "Nall's going with you like you planned?" "Yup. He's off on his own retreat right now, with an elder dragon to help him prepare. Who knows what they're doing... I'm not sure I want to think about it too hard." He turned to face her again. "This was exactly what I needed to do, though. Thanks for coming along." "Like I said, I'm glad to help. I've had a lot of fun this week. We should do this again when you have more time." He chuckled. "Once it's over, and you're done with school, we'll have all summer. Well, no... there'll be some things for me to do. But most of the summer, anyway." "What will you do?" she wondered. "Well... the first thing I figure I'll do... if I make First Class, even Limited, I'll have open access to the Great Library. All the knowledge of the Nine Worlds is in there. If we can't find out more about where you came from and how to get back there from that... well, I don't think it's possible that we could fail. And -then-! Then, by God, you and I are going to go there and sort some stuff -out-." Utena gazed across at him, lacking anything to say; then she extended her arm a little further and closed her hand over his, and smiled. "After that," Corwin mused to the sunset, "who knows? If you guys don't have anything better to do, we could tour the Nine Worlds. There's peace with Muspelheim right now, and there are things worth seeing, even in the Pit. Assuming you don't stay in your own world, of course," he added, a note of vague worry creeping into his voice. She shook her head. "I don't think so. Not if Himemiya's willing to come here. There's nothing for me there but her, now... and there was never anything there for her." She smiled. "This world is my home now. You and Kate and the rest, you're my family." Corwin smiled and said, "That's a relief." Then he paused and went on in a more thoughtful tone, "I hope she likes me." Utena nodded. He'd said that before, and her answer remained the same: "She will. You'll see. You'll like her, too." Corwin grinned. "If by some bizarre coincidence I should run across her before I get back," he said jokingly, "should I give her a message?" "No," said Utena. "Just bring her to me." "You got it," he said. "One Rose Bride... world to world service." They lay in silence, hands clasped, watching with serene smiles as Zeta Cygni sank behind the mountains beyond the lake, and the light around them turned golden and orange, washing away all other colors. "You really think you can find her?" Utena asked him softly. "I'll find her," he replied. With the last of the day's warmth on their faces, they drowsed with that promise to think of. The next morning, the air was cooler. They both felt it as they packed up the car and closed up the camp - it felt like autumn. Whatever wizardry had been done to ensure their week of perfect weather was wearing off now that their time was up. They'd just finished locking up, and were sitting on the ridgetop, hand in hand, getting a last good look at the lake before they turned their backs on it and headed for New Avalon. Then they noticed a change, felt a difference before just what was different could make itself known. Both noticed at about the same time; the slight tremor in their linked hands told each of the change in the other's state of mind. "What the... ?" murmured Utena. She looked around, then cocked an ear to listen, one hand pressed to the ground. "Sounds like a horse." Corwin got to his feet, brushed grass from himself, and took Utena's hand again to pull her up as well. "It's my ride," he said, and a moment later, a woman on horseback appeared from the forest to the south, along the trail that led deeper into the Clemens Mountains. Utena was slightly taken aback by her appearance. It was hard to tell much about her at any great distance, thanks to her plate armor and helmet, but she was clearly athletic, an expert rider, with a regal bearing and long, curly orange hair escaping from beneath her helmet. Her horse was a magnificent animal, his chestnut coat burnished like copper in the dying light of day. Horse and rider both wore armor, black steel with embellishments of silver, and at her side was a saber with a glittering silver hilt. Corwin blinked in puzzlement at this figure as she approached. "Who is it?" Utena asked. "I don't know," Corwin replied, in a tone of voice that indicated that he found this very odd. "She's dressed as a Valkyrie, and that's Gudrun Truemace's horse, Tecumseh, but... I don't recognize the woman. She sure as hell isn't Gudrun." The horsewoman rode up the driveway, halted her mount next to the Griffon, and dismounted. Then she removed her helmet, shook her flame-colored hair free, and turned twinkling green eyes on the two who awaited her. For one weird instant, before logic and closer examination banished it, Utena had the thought: When did Juri become a Valkyrie? >Hail to thee, Corwin of the Raven-Hair,< she said in very formal Old Norse. >The time for thy Trial has come. Art thou prepared?< Corwin gaped at her in undisguised astonishment. It was several seconds before he figured out where he'd left his voice and thundered, "VEE?!" Vigdis Brightblade grinned, tossed her fiery mane, and struck a pose. "What do you think?" she asked. Utena, at Corwin's side, was just as dumbstruck as he was. When she'd last seen Vigdis Brightblade, the young Valkyrie - a year younger than Corwin, and small for her age - had been a tiny creature, barely starting to fill out, almost a full foot shorter than the Two Worlds' Cavalier. This girl was -older- than Corwin - at least Utena's own age of sixteen, perhaps a year older than that. She was still shorter, but not by nearly as much, and she was definitely not barely starting to fill out. This was a young woman, and a well-constructed one, trim and powerful under her armor, which was crafted to accommodate considerably more abundant charms than those possessed by the erstwhile littlest Valkyrie. And yet - her face was the same, allowing for age and growth. The same incredibly fair skin that made Utena's own creamy complexion seem practically ruddy by comparison, the same thick, curly, vivid flame-orange hair, the same flashing green eyes, the same cute scattershot of freckles over the bridge of the same button nose. If she wasn't Vigdis Brightblade, she was a -very- close-looking elder sister. Seeing that Corwin was going to be out of service for a moment, Vigdis turned to Utena and said, "We meet again, Utena Tenjou. I trust I've met your criteria for seeing you again?" Utena was momentarily puzzled, until she remembered the last thing she'd said to Vigdis before leaving her there in the wreckage they'd made of the Valkyrie Hall: "Now you stay away from Corwin, and you stay away from me, until you're ready to treat us both with some respect and some maturity." She stared in amazement. "Vigdis... you... you did this to yourself? On purpose?" Vigdis shrugged. "Sure," she replied. "It wasn't easy, I can tell you!" she went on with a grin. "After I made Lady Verthandi so mad, Lady Urthr sure wasn't going to do me any favors, and the only other alchemist in the High Worlds who can make the Draught of Years doesn't work cheap! Poor Gudrun - when she promised to do whatever she could to cheer me up, I don't think she expected she'd have to cut down, haul and split ten cords of firewood." The redhead winked and added, "I made it up to her when it was all said and done, though." "But... but... " "What's the matter?" Vigdis asked, her face taking on a look of concern. "You told me to stay away from you and Corwin until I had some maturity. Well... here I am!" Utena shook her head. "No, no, no, oh you -stupid- girl... I didn't mean for you to throw your -childhood- away!" She thumped a fist against the Valkyrie's breastplate in frustration. "I wanted you to go away, think about what you did, and grow up a little - but you shouldn't have taken me so... -literally-!" The Duelist was nearly in tears, so frustrated and appalled was she by the outcome of her advice to the young Valkyrie. Vigdis smiled a compassionate smile and took hold of Utena's hand before it could strike her breastplate again. "I was afraid you might take it this way," she said gently, "after all you told me about how your own girlhood ended. But it's OK, Utena, really it is. I was -tired- of being a girl. I -wanted- to become a woman. And anyway, isn't it all rooted in your state of mind? You forget, I watched you at DSM for a whole term. I saw how much you enjoy your life. You grew up on your own terms, and then you turned around and took -back- the parts of being a girl you wanted to keep. Well, I plan to do the same thing." Utena blinked at her, dumbstruck once more, and the redheaded Valkyrie grinned. "I thought a lot about what you told me," she said. "For a solid month, when I wasn't working on the repairs to the Hall, I shut myself in my room and I thought about it. Poor Gudrun almost worried her beautiful hair out," she added with a fond little smile. "Anyway, what I realized, along with what an -ass- I'd been, was how right Corwin is to admire you the way he does." Vigdis raised her hand, still holding Utena's, and closed her other one over it. "You're an inspiration to me, Prince Tenjou. I was a stupid child headed for a bad fall, and you turned my life around. I can't thank you enough for that." "I... I don't know... what to say," Utena finally managed. "'sOK," Vigdis replied. "You'll have plenty of time to think of something. Once Tomorrow's Son passes his Trial, you'll be seeing more of me, and Gudrun, and Lenneth, and all the other Valkyrie. Your destiny is too well-meshed with his for you to avoid us," she added with a kidding grin. "Anyway," Vigdis went on airily as she released Utena's hands, walked in a half-circle around both of them, and came up behind Corwin on his other side, "now we can compete for our prize on more even terms." "... Huh?" said Utena. "Well," Vigdis replied with a smile as she leaned against Corwin, placing a hand against his chest and kissing his cheek, "if my time as a meddlesome twerp gained me -any- useful information, it's that Corwin prefers older women... " Corwin went scarlet from his hairline to his breastbone, and the two girls broke up laughing, Vigdis's mock-seductive tableau destroyed by hilarity. When they'd recovered, Vigdis went back to her borrowed mount's side and said, "I'd love to stay and chat, sister, but time is short and the Council doesn't like to be kept waiting. Corwin Ravenhair, the time for thy Trial has arrived. Art thou prepared?" Corwin shook his head, squared himself and bowed. "I am," he replied. With that formality out of the way, he scratched at the back of his head and asked with a slightly awkward grin, "So, uh... aside from the obvious, how've you been?" "Can't complain," she replied. "Tecumseh's enjoying his day out, anyway," she added with a smile, patting the horse's neck. "He hasn't been on a rainbow ride in too long. I think he likes the way Midgard smells or something." "How'd you manage to get this assignment, anyway?" Corwin asked. "After you got your Surface World permit yanked, I thought sure you wouldn't see Midgard again for at least a year." "Oh, I'm here without permission," Vigdis replied, unconcerned. "They think Gudrun's here, but I talked her into letting me come instead." She smiled at Utena. "I had an important apology to tender, after all. Oh, oops! I got so wrapped up in telling you how much I admire you that I forgot to -do- that." Vigdis then bowed, very formally, her face going serious, and said, "Prince Tenjou, I, Vigdis Brightblade of the Valkyrior, apologize. I was an unmitigated ass at all our several meetings before this. I was unforgivably rude, mean-spirited, and stupid, and for all of it I'm very sorry." Utena studied her for a moment with an awkward smile (Vigdis grinned, noting that she and Corwin had the same hand-behind-head mannerism), then said, "Uh... apology accepted." Vigdis smiled. "Thank you," she said. "It means much." She approached the pink-haired Duelist, took both her hands, then kissed her on alternating cheeks before saying softly, "Corwin's chosen well. Pray for him during his Trial; with your spirit seconding his strength, he can't fail." Utena smiled, already recovering her poise as she got accustomed to the new Vigdis, and replied, "He'd better not." Then she reached into her pocket, tossed Corwin a quarter (he caught it entirely by instinct), and added with her own wink, "He owes me money." Vigdis laughed again. "I'd like to stay and talk more with you, sister," she said, "but as I said, time presses and the Council waits for nobody. C'mon, Corwin." "Be with you in a sec," he said, and the Valkyrie went back and remounted her horse while Corwin and Utena faced each other in front of the car. "Corwin," she said softly. "For right now, never mind the joke with the money, or even the things you've promised when this is over. Right now I've only got one thing I need you to do for me in your time of trial." "What?" he asked. "Stay alive," she replied. He leaned close and kissed her cheek. She'd have none of that, not today, and pressed her lips to his, wrapping him in a hug that, for a moment, seemed as though it might never end. Then she released him, and he stepped back to arm's length, one of his hands still on her shoulder. "I will," said Corwin. Then he went and took Vigdis Brightblade's outstretched hand, and the Valkyrie hauled him up easily behind her on her horse. He held onto the armor at her waist with one hand and raised the other in farewell, and Utena raised hers in turn as Vigdis wheeled Tecumseh and they galloped off into the woods. Utena stood there until the sounds of the hoofbeats had vanished into the mountaintop silence; then she climbed into his car, drove it down to New Avalon, parked it at Mathews Memorial Spaceport, and flew the Swordfish II to Tomodachi. It was evening when she arrived in Nekomikoka. Skuld Ravenhair greeted her with an embrace on the front walk of the goddess's cozy little cottage, on a quiet residential street not far from the Nekomi Tech campus. Utena planned to spend the week here, and possibly the next, until either Corwin returned from his Trial or Mandeville Memorial went back into session on Jeraddo. She and Skuld wouldn't exactly keep a vigil - they planned to sleep, and eat, and all that sort of thing - but they weren't planning to leave the house much. Skuld gave her dinner, helped her launder the week's worth of clothes she'd used at Vortigern's Lake, and then, after they'd squared away her things in Corwin's bedroom, the goddess said, "I think you should probably call Jeraddo and let them know he's on his way." Utena nodded. "Good idea," she said, and she noted that Skuld excused herself and left the room as Utena picked up the telephone. No one picked up in Castle 501, so Utena called the main Castle number, which rang in the library, kitchen, dueling room, and some other common areas. B'Elanna Torres answered, told her that Kate was out rehearsing her student orchestra, and would she like to talk to Wakaba? Utena said that would be fine, thanks, and a moment later Wakaba Shinohara came on the line. "Everything go OK?" she asked. "Fine," Utena replied. "We got a little morose on Himemiya's birthday, but the weather didn't help any - that was the only day it rained. It was gloomy all day. He's on his way. By now he's gotten his briefing... probably picking out his equipment, or even on his way to Jotunheim or wherever by now." "OK, good," said Wakaba, sounding more relieved than Utena would have thought she'd be. Her next words explained why: "The rain wasn't the only weird thing to happen on the 28th. Saionji disappeared." "What?!" Utena blurted. "Vanished right off the dueling floor while he and Kate were doing kata. From things he said before he disappeared, we think you-know-who yanked him back to Cephiro." Utena's grip on the phone tightened until the plastic creaked. "-Fuck-," she said. "Yeah, my sentiments exactly," Wakaba said. "He didn't seem worried, though, and Kate managed to give him her zatoichi before he vanished, so at least he's not helpless. Right now we're hoping that, once he's done with his trial, Corwin can help us find him when you go hunting for Himemiya. That's really our only option... " "Mm-hmm," said Utena, thoughtful. "How are you holding up?" "Well... " Wakaba sighed. "It's tough, but... I know he wouldn't want me blubbering about him and stuff. He'd want me to be tough and have faith. You know - be like you," she added, the wry grin plain in her voice. Utena chuckled. "Well... yeah," she said. "That's about all we can do. Hang tough and hope he comes through. You want me to come home?" "No, no, that's OK," Wakaba insisted hurriedly. "Nothing you can do here, anyway - might as well not disrupt your vigil. You've got a lot on your mind already. Besides," she added good-humoredly, "Serge won't leave me alone. Ever since it happened he's been hanging around with me anytime he can't be with Kate. It's like he knows I'm upset and wants to help - it's really sweet." Utena chuckled. "I bet. Well, OK... if you change your mind, I'll be right here, or across the street at Aunt Bell's. Call and I'll come running. Or you could come here... Skuld doesn't have much spare space, but there's plenty of room over at the Morisatos'. And Aunt Bell's great at comfort food," she added with another light, reassuring laugh. Wakaba gave a lifted-spirits giggle and said, "I don't think that'll be necessary. This is your time. But I want you to know - all of us are praying for Corwin's success. And not just because it's the only shot we can think of for getting Saionji back." "Thanks, Wakaba. I appreciate it... and I know he does too. I'll see you soon, OK?" "OK. Oh - one other thing... it's not related, but it's another weird thing that's happened. Kate's brother Len was here the other day. He said that one of Corwin's classmates has disappeared." "Disappeared? Who?" "The blonde girl, the Funkotroni ambassador's daughter... what's her name? You know the one. She's a year younger than Corwin, skipped the eighth grade... she and her big sister were with us at New Year's... " "Fuu? Fuu Hououji? She's -missing-?" "Yeah. Len says Mr. Fujisawa's homeroom went on a school trip to the Entire State Building's top observation deck last Tuesday, and she just... disappeared. Wasn't in the head count when they left. Two other girls from other schools vanished too, one from Rich Parker Memorial downtown and one from Le Chateau Snootee. Marty Rose is heading up the investigation for the New Avalon cops. No leads, last we knew, but they think it might be a Hutt thing. Anyway... you'll probably see Corwin again before any of us do, so... " Utena nodded, realized Wakaba couldn't see her, and said, "Mm. I'll... I'll let him know. Hopefully she'll have turned up by then anyway. Marty's a good cop. If anybody in New Avalon can find her, he can." "Yeah, that's what Kate keeps saying. Well... that's all. Sorry to dump more stuff to worry about on you... " "No, you did right," Utena told her. "Better to know about it now than find out later." "Yeah... that's what I figured. OK... I'll talk to you later, then." "OK. Take care, Wakaba." "I will. You too. Bye." "Bye." Utena Tenjou was not the praying type, particularly, but special times called for special measures. Tonight, after showering, putting on her pajamas, wishing Skuld a good night, and shutting herself in Corwin's room, she turned off the lights, lit a candle - blackberry, Corwin's favorite - and offered her wishes for his health and success to every relative of his that she could think of. She did this not in a spirit of dread or despair, but of hope. Over the years, she had discovered in herself a marked talent for hope, and for faith; and now both rested with Corwin. "He'll be fine," a soft voice told her as she completed her prayers, and she looked to her side to see Dios kneeling beside her, flickering slightly in time with the candle flame. "I thought you were gone," she said - but certainly not in a tone that indicated the news that he wasn't was unwelcome. He smiled. "Not quite, not yet," he replied softly. "We're very close to completion now. You felt it when you visited Asgard for the second time. Yes?" Her eyes wide with wonder at the memory, Utena nodded silently. Dios's smile got even gentler. "Then you know it's true," he said. "But still, there's one thing yet that we must do. One thing I yet hold on in hopes of seeing... and I feel the day will be soon when I do." Utena nodded and whispered, "I'll do everything I can... " "I know you will," Dios replied. "You always do. It's why my sister loves you - and why I do, too." Then he leaned over and kissed her - not to kiss away tears, as he always had before, but affectionately - lovingly. The way she kissed Corwin, since they'd bared their souls on her last birthday. The way she'd never quite gotten around to kissing Anthy and now wished she had, hoped she soon would. "Good night, sweet Utena," said Dios. "Pleasant dreams." Then he blew out the candle and vanished with its light. Utena knelt there in the dark for a few moments before rising and climbing into Corwin's bed. Five times now she'd slept in his arms, or with him in hers: once at Bancroft Tower, once in the blackness of space, once at the Monolith, and twice at Vortigern's Lake, after the storm and after the crushing gloom of Anthy's birthday. By now she knew the subtle, warm scent of him as well as anyone with a merely human sense of smell ever could... but somehow, it was so much more evocative when the rest of him wasn't here too. Stay alive, she told him again as she drifted off to sleep; and as she drifted off she could have sworn she heard him reply: I will. See you soon. /* Joe Satriani "Why" _The Extremist_ */ Eyrie Productions, Unlimited presented UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES FUTURE IMPERFECT - Symphony of the Sword No. 2 - Interlude at Vortigern's Lake in C Major The Cast (in order of appearance) Corwin Ravenhair Utena Tenjou Vigdis Brightblade Tecumseh Skuld Ravenhair B'Elanna Torres Wakaba Shinohara Dios Reactive Element Benjamin D. Hutchins Reaction Moderator John Trussell Accelerant Anne Cross Lab Assistants The Usual Suspects The Symphony will return