Beyond the Pale by Jak Koke Page B

Aztlan, his discovery that Dunkelzahn was dead, that his new mission required him to take the Dragon Heart to Thayla. Dunkelzahn thought Thayla was vulnerable, that she needed the Heart to stop the Enemy.
    Ryan went on to tell how the Dragon Heart was stolen by the Atlantean Foundation. He told of how he had met the spirit Lethe and how they had regained the Heart. He recounted the events of the past weeks to Harlequin, mentioning the cyberzombie Burnout and how he had taken the Heart from Ryan.
    “I have just recovered the Dragon Heart and so I come to you as Dunkelzahn advised,” Ryan said. “I come seeking your help.”
    Harlequin listened to Ryan’s story, total attention on his painted face, forefingers steepled over his mouth. Then he was silent for a long moment, thinking.
    “First of all,” he said. “I was responsible for putting Thayla at the bridge. Me and some others. But when Dunkelzahn learned of it, he came to me here, extremely pissed . . . er, slotted off, as you say now.
    “Fragging dragon nearly forced a showdown. Made me angry that he didn’t appreciate what I had done.” Harlequin stared at Ryan with an intensity Ryan had never seen. A look that chilled his core. “I had saved the world from the ... the .. . Enemy. You think I wanted to? You think I volunteered to be a fucking hero?”
    Harlequin stood up and began pacing in a wide circle. “But I did it anyway. I knew no one else would. And I succeeded! I accomplished a stalemate.” The elf heaved a deep breath. “Then Dunkelzahn comes to me and rants about my incompetence. Trying to tell me that Thayla is vulnerable, that her song had been breached before and it would be again.
    “Dunkelzahn told me that he suspected Aztechnology was creating an elaborate map of their astral space. Connecting the auras of all their teocalli so that they could measure changes in mana across their entire country. He thought they were doing this in search of something. Something they obviously found. A Mel’thelem —a Locus.”
    “What exactly is a Locus?”
    Harlequin shot a hard look at Ryan. “It’s best not to ask too many questions,” he said.
    Ryan bristled. Harlequin might be powerful and most unusual for an elf, but he still had that arrogant attitude that made Ryan want to slap him. “I’m Dunkelzahn’s operative,” he said. “I know all about the cycles of magic and that drek. Just tell me.”
    Harlequin smiled. “All I can tell you is that the Mel'thelem are now part of the Sixth World as they were of the Fourth. They were created long ago to be magical reservoirs, like batteries that have now gone dead during the low mana. But if activated, they can be used to store, enhance, and focus magical power on a massive scale.”
    “In the wrong hands—”
    “They could mean disaster,” Harlequin interrupted. “Dunkelzahn tried to warn us, me and others, but we did not act quickly enough. We never suspected that they would find one so soon.” A sad look crossed Harlequin’s face. “Because of this, Dunkelzahn and I parted in anger,”he said. “And that was the last I saw of the old wyrm.”
    “When was that?” Ryan asked.
    “About a week before the assassination.” Harlequin gave Ryan a queer glance. “No, I didn’t kill him if that’s what you’re thinking. Oh, I’ve wanted to several times over the years, in flashes of anger. And this last time, when he challenged my methods of stopping the Enemy, implying that I took the easy way out. Believe me, I was supremely pissed at him. But even if I’d actually had the guts to try to kill him, I could never have pulled it off alone. I’m not strong enough.”
    Harlequin sighed. “But I didn’t try. Because when you strip away all the layers of jockeying and posturing, all the painted faces and illusions—” he raked his nails over his make-up, gouging it away in lines—“underneath it all, we were after the same thing. We were friends.”
    He sounds sincere, Ryan thought.