The Wizardess Renault

I would have expected a quest for power to be more exciting than this, Renault thought as she tried to ignore the cacophony of odors invading her nose. Or at least a little less odious.

She stood amongst the crowd before the ramshackle stage, her instinct having drawn her to this unfortunate spot, but the stage itself interested her not in the least. Instead she was scanning the crowd around her, milling about on the trampled grass and discarded food wrappers, chatting with each other over one mundane subject or another. Another town of ruffians, fools, and scalawags that never bathe, she thought. If not for the patience her father had taught her, she would have given up months ago. Yet, unlike the other hamlets and filthy farming villages through which she'd passed, this place was different. Somewhere among these mindless sheep was another like her. She'd known it from the moment she entered the town gate. It wasn't just a thief's intuition, as she'd had all her life, but more like a hand, stroking her mind and whispering to her that the one whom she sought, the one who could be her sister, was now close, very close…

She sighed imperceptibly, willing herself into patience and doing her best to avoid drawing too much attention to herself. Fortunately, it looked as if none were paying her any particular attention. She figured there were more than a few outsiders here for whatever paltry celebration was occurring, so she expected little trouble blending in. She used to enjoy these festivals as a child, especially the anonymity most of them allowed. They'd provided ample marks for her to practice the skills her father had taught her, and she'd always left with a great deal more money than that with which she had arrived. By the time anyone had noticed their purses were lighter, she wasn't even a memory.

And then everything had changed when, as a teenager, Renault had found that old woman lying by the side of the road. Her neck broken, her head twisted almost completely backward, the old wench somehow still breathed. That is, until Renault had gotten close and the woman struck her with, at the time, what she thought was some kind of lightning. The young Renault felt that alien power coursing through every fiber of her body, and as the withered crone melted into the dirt beneath her, Renault's life had been flipped on its head. Her mind became sharper and her body stronger and faster, making her an even more excellent thief and con artist. She even found she could cast simple magic spells that would light the darkness, or allow her to manipulate the life and death of small plants. An odd assortment of abilities, she'd thought, but once she'd gotten over the initial shock of the changes within her, they had been quite welcome.

Not long afterward, she learned that there were others like her, with their own abilities, and that she could detect their presence like an unexpected familiarity if they were close enough. Also inflicted upon her was the knowledge that, if another died and she was there to absorb the powers, they would be added to her own. All this information forced its way onto her when the first living wizardess she'd ever met tried to kill her. The woman had traveled many miles to find Renault and had almost immediately set upon her with a flurry of clumsy sword swipes and rudimentary magic spells. Renault's quickness as a thief had allowed her to dodge the attacks and to deftly put her knife through the attacker's spine. That was when she received her second dose of power, and it was then that the hunger began to take her. She soon decided that, if other wizardesses were out to kill and increase their own power, she had best do the same. She also decided that, instead of living as a petty thief and conning rich men out of extravagant gifts, if she controlled the power not of one or two but of many, she could become a ruler of men.

Ever since she'd reached that decision, with her father long passed and nothing else to bind her, she had traveled from village to village hoping to come across another like herself. Finally, after weeks of traveling she had that same sensation, a somehow familiar presence, and it was close. The sensation had grown stronger as she approached this festival, and she hoped it was here she'd find her first mark. The travel, and the time away from the thievery which she knew so well, had left her well outside her comfort zone. She knew from the beginning this would be like finding a needle in a stack of pins, but nevertheless, she was becoming quite impatient to have it done with. Also, in that time, she had started having second guesses about her new "mission" in life. Her last kill, her only kill, was in self-defense. What would it be this time? Was she really willing to commit murder?

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the persistent doubt from her conscious mind. It has to be, you know it does. If I don't kill her and take her power, someone else will. Then that someone will come after me and will be all the more powerful for it. This way, I'll have the advantage when they come. She'd had this argument with herself many times before, her logical mind telling her that she must kill while her heart tried to stop her. Just when she thought she'd managed to convince herself that the killing was ultimately the right thing to do, her conscience always reappeared to apply a fresh coat of doubt onto her new life.

A trumpet player began tooting some bouncy tune, disrupting Renault's thoughts. It grated on her ears, but she welcomed the distraction and turned her full, if still disinterested, attention to the stage. A moment later the tattered curtain spread, revealing the rest of the makeshift stage and a woman, middle-aged but not entirely un-youthful, standing with one hand in the air and another at her hip. She wore an elaborate red and gold robe with an attached gold and silver headpiece, sweeping down and away from her at her back, intertwining threads of red, gold, and silver through her head of salt and pepper hair.

The costume amused Renault, if slightly, for only a poor stage performer could wear something so garish with no hint of shame. Her amusement was interrupted by the sudden growth of the familiarity she had been feeling. She looked about her again, trying to see if any new characters had entered the crowd.

The woman on stage, almost aloof toward the audience and their polite applause, presented her stubby-fingered bare hands to them, clenched a single fist, and then pulled a kerchief from it. There was more calm applause from the crowd, but Renault, having again turned her attention back to the stage, rolled her eyes. Common parlor trick, she thought. What would she know about real magic?

Just as she finished that thought, the magician released the kerchief into the air and it caught ablaze, burning into nothingness before it could begin its fall to the stage and eliciting excited cries from the audience. Renault stared at the ashes that remained of the kerchief, floating in the breeze toward the crowd, and pursed her lips. That could have been a trick as well. Look past the surface, young sneak. The words of her father, a master thief up until his unfortunate demise, still spoke to her even in this new endeavor. Sometimes she wondered if he would approve of her new path in life. Would he be proud of her and want her to succeed? She would never know for certain.

She continued watching with far more rapt attention than before. She examined every move, every flick of the wrist, every toe tap, with every ounce of her attention. More tricks, more sleight-of-hand that any good thief could replicate, but nothing truly magical. However, when the magician produced a set of playing cards from a fold in her sleeve and flicked them into the air, each incinerating into ashes before the gaping audience, Renault became certain she was indeed seeing some real magic interspersed with the germane showman's flair. The fire was no prestidigitation. Renault's senses tingled with every conflagration, however small, as if each were a slight prod to her brain telling her, "Here I am! Notice me!"

Is this magician the wizardess I've been looking for? If indeed she was, she was either incredibly smart, or monumentally stupid. Surely another wizardess had seen this "show". If this woman had been flaunting her skills like this for any length of time, wouldn't she have already made herself a target?

If not yet, she would be soon. Either way, it didn't matter to Renault. She had found her mark. Now all she had to do was get close, but she would have to be quick. Considering the woman's visibility, Renault doubted that another wizardess would be long in finding her. She watched the rest of the show, and aside from the surreptitious tricks and basic illusions, she noted that all the real magical acts were based upon fire. She smiled. Fire was good. Fire would be a very versatile power for her to wield; all the great rulers of the world had succeeded based on their superior use of fire.

That brought another pang of doubt into her stomach. Killing for power. How does that make me different from a monster? She jerked her head hard, triggering a slight headache. The pain was enough to refocus her. Self-defense. It's self-defense. Remember that, young sneak. She sighed. Calling herself "young sneak" didn't seem to have the same calming effect as did the memories of her father calling her that. Would he approve of her choices? Would he sanction the actions she was planning to take?

She had no answer to that question, and so tried to push it out of her conscious mind and refocus herself on the task at hand: getting close to the magician. After the older woman took her bows and the crowd gave their hooting applause, Renault started working her way toward the stage. It became easier as the scant crowd dispersed, seeking what Renault assumed were fried foods, animal harassment, or some other peasant festival fare. She strode around the stage to an unhitched, ramshackle coach parked behind it, emblazoned with "The Amazing Aria" in faded, chipped, red and gold paint.

"The Amazing Aria", indeed, Renault thought. What an idiot. "Hello?" she said, examining the coach's rear, trying to catch a glimpse through the cracks between the boards. As she approached, the feeling of familiarity grew more intense, heightening her senses and causing her skin to break out into gooseflesh.

"Can I help you?" asked a voice behind her. Startled, she spun around to see a young woman in plain garb, not much older than herself, holding a slightly weatherworn gray cotton robe in her tiny arms. She was a small woman but had the look of a dedicated worker. Her blond hair was bound tightly in a ponytail and she wore a plain linen tunic and trousers. Her shoes were of wrapped and pinned canvas, stained, with what looked like small burn holes here and there.

Renault tilted her head back so that she was looking slightly down her nose at what she supposed was the magician's servant girl. "Yes, I'd, uh, like to speak with 'The Amazing Aria', if you please." She tried to keep the disgust out of her voice while delivering the magician's ridiculous title.

"I am sorry, but she is quite busy," the young woman said. "She has another show in a half hour. Are you a...fan?"

"In a way," Renault said. "I suppose you could say she and I are sisters."

The young woman raised her eyebrows. "Sisters? Surely not. The Amazing Aria has no living family."

"I didn't mean it literally," Renault said, her voice soft with condescension. She drew on the reserves of patience she had been taught long ago; she often needed it in dealing with obtuse people such as this.

The woman glanced up to the coach and then back at Renault. Sighing, she walked to the coach and rapped on the back door.

"Yes?" asked a voice from inside.

"Mistress, there is someone to see you."

"I am very busy now. Please give him an autographed poster and ask him to come back later."

Renault grimaced. "She'd like to meet with you, if you have a few moments," she said, leaning her head toward the coach door. "She thinks you and she may be kindred spirits in the ways of magic."

After a moment of silence, the coach door cracked open. A hand yanked the robe from the young woman's hands, and the door closed again. After a few seconds, it opened once more. "Please, come in."

Renault stepped past the young woman and into the coach. The inside was lit solely by the bright sunlight filtering in through the thick steel mesh in the coach's windows. Glittering here and there on the walls and floor were various trinkets that Renault supposed were related to Aria's more mundane tricks. Sitting just barely in the permeating sunlight was a woman who appeared middle-aged, the gray cotton robe draped over a muscular form, completely obscuring from view whatever chair the woman sat upon. Renault glanced to the wall at the back, where Aria's performance outfit hung. The outfit had appeared flamboyantly oversized while Aria was on stage, but Renault could now see it was to hide a sturdy, barely feminine musculature.

Renault realized that if this "Aria" had the strength that she appeared to have, her task would be much more difficult than she'd originally thought. Her doubts once again bubbled to the surface.

Aria, staring at Renault, lifted a pipe to her lips and sucked. The end crackled a little. "Well? You say we are 'kindred spirits'." The woman's voice was feminine, but carried a slight growl. Smoke curled upward from her mouth as she spoke. "Explain. You have five minutes."

"I've been traveling many miles, for many weeks, looking for another wizardess," Renault said, her hands clasped before her in a show of submission before the haughty woman. Aria's right eyebrow cocked at the word "wizardess". "And now I believe I've found her," Renault continued. "I watched your performance. What I saw was not simple parlor tricks. It was-"

"'Simple parlor tricks?'" Aria interrupted, eyes narrowed. "How dare you!" She shot to her feet and thrust herself into Renault's face. Renault jumped back, trying and almost failing to fight her thief's instinct to flee. "Get out!"

"No, please!" Renault said, backing away one more step before stopping herself. "I – I saw real magic in your tricks! I know because I'm also a wizardess! Let me show you!" She looked to a pair of wilting flowers in a vase at Aria's side. She extended her hand toward them, but Aria seized it immediately in one of her own. The older woman's grip was firm, but not quite as strong as Renault would have expected.

"Leave now or I will call the constable! Never let me see your face again!" Aria grabbed Renault's other arm in her free hand and threw the wizardess into the closed coach door, which burst open and sent Renault sprawling to the hard ground outside. Aria harrumphed and yanked the coach door shut. It creaked open, and she slammed it again. It opened a third time, and after it slammed shut once more, there was a metallic clunk from inside. The door remained closed.

Renault glared at the coach, fire in her eyes and her doubt momentarily forgotten. She clenched her trembling fists, tearing clumps of grass from the dirt. She prepared herself to leap back up, start beating on the wooden coach with her bare hands until she could get inside, wrap her hands around Aria's throat and choke the life out of the old hag, bodybuilder or not. It wouldn't have been the perfect way to adhere to her plan, but it would work all the same and still be quite satisfying.

"I am so sorry," came a voice from above her. She looked up and saw the young woman, Aria's assistant, extending a hand toward her. "Mistress Aria has a – um, a fiery temper."

Renault fought the temptation to slap the hand away and took a couple deep breaths, letting her rage seep out with each exhale. As her anger faded her logical mind returned. Perhaps this peasant girl could be an inroad to Aria's good graces despite this setback. "So I see." She accepted the young woman's hand, which exhibited surprising strength in pulling Renault to her feet. Renault brushed the dust off her traveling dress and out of her auburn hair.

"Forgive me, but I could not help but overhear," the young woman said. "Did you say you know magic? True magic?"

You just happened to overhear that? Renault thought. Will I have to silence you after I've finished with your mistress? "Perhaps I did. Or perhaps you misheard me."

"I am Mistress Aria's attendant, Gelessa. I have been with her for many years, since I left my hometown. If what you say is true, then perhaps it explains the strange feeling I have had this afternoon. One of recognition, even though we are new to this town."

Renault tilted her head. This young woman? Could it be her? "Are you saying you know true magic? Are you a wizardess?"

Gelessa shook her head. "I do not know that word," she said, "but I may know some of what you speak." She bent down, tore a tuft of grass from the ground, held it out in her palm for Renault to see. Renault stared at it as the green blades began to turn brown and rivulets of steam started hissing from them. Soon small flames danced across their surface, and Renault gasped.

Gelessa smiled demurely and closed her hand over the grass blades. When she opened it again, they were brown and charred black, with only tiny threads of smoke rising from them.

"You're responsible for Aria's fire tricks?" Renault said, her voice low but her heart pounding forcefully.

Gelessa nodded. In a whisper, she said, "Lady Aria is a skilled illusionist, but there are many of those in the world. There are few, if any, that can use true magic. I have been able to create and control fire since I was a little girl. I was able to convince the Mistress to let me join her when I 'showed' her how to do fire 'tricks'. I simply stand at the sidelines and use my power, making it look like she is doing it."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Renault asked. "You don't know me."

"If not for the feeling of familiarity that grows the closer I am to you, I would not. But I have this sensation…I think I can trust you."

Renault smiled. Her own feeling, that strange sense of knowing, was indeed strongest now, even more so than it had been in the coach. Her heart seemed ready to burst out of her chest. "Can I trust you?"

"If you feel the same thing I do, then you know you can," Gelessa said, starting to overturn her hand and drop the remnants of the grass.

"No," Renault said quickly, placing her hands delicately over Gelessa's. She closed her eyes, releasing some of her power through her palms, and then withdrew them to her side. Gelessa looked down at the grass in her hand. It had become green again, without the slightest hint of charring, and had even sprouted tiny roots across her palm!

"My goodness!" Gelessa exclaimed. Renault waved a hand at her and Gelessa lowered her voice, glancing about for prying ears. "It is true, then! You are…what did you say…a wizardess?"

Renault nodded. "My name is Renault. I've traveled many miles from my home, looking for other wizardesses."

"Why?"

Renault took her own turn glancing about them, checking for eavesdroppers. Her heart was beating so rapidly that she almost feared she would pass out. Excitement, anticipation, and nerves swirled and stewed together in her stomach. Her senses took hold of her though, forcing her to calm down. Thoughts of murder all but forgotten for a second, she realized she actually felt a kind of kinship toward Gelessa. She wasn't sure she was ready to commit the act she'd planned, not against this gentle-looking girl. She sighed. Patience was always a virtue, as her dear father had been fond of saying, always punctuated with "little sneak". "I was…forced out of my home by people that misunderstood and feared me. I had nothing, no family, no home. I knew the only hope I had for a new home was to find those with gifts like mine."

Gelessa smiled. "Well, Lady Renault, you have indeed found one."

"Please, just 'Renault'," Renault said. "I'm not royalty." Yet, she added to herself. "Nor would I pretend to be."

"Very well then, Renault, I am pleased to make your acquaintance." Gelessa bowed to her, but then stole a glance to the coach, which was rocking slightly. "Forgive me, but Mistress Aria is preparing for her next show and it may be best if, at least for now, she does not see you. She has a certain – way – with the constabulary in the places we perform, and would not hesitate to have you arrested under false charges. Perhaps we could meet again?"

"Perhaps tonight?" Renault asked, doing her best to keep her voice even and calm, despite the thrill tickling her spine. "After your last show? Forgive me, but I'm very excited to get to know you."

Gelessa smiled. "How about if I meet you by the stage when the town bell strikes ten?"

"Ten bells it is," Renault said. "I look forward to it, Gelessa."

"As do I, Renault." Gelessa bowed her head again and and rapped on the coach door. As Renault slipped around the coach's side, there was a metal clunk and the door swung ajar. Gelessa stepped inside, and Renault could hear the grating voice of "The Amazing Aria" from inside, demanding a new bottle of wine.

Renault strode away from the coach, not bothering to listen any further to the conversation between mistress and servant. Excitement stroked its silken fingers across her stomach. Excitement and anxiety. Her hand slipped into one of the folds of her dress. Inside was a sheathed blade, sharpened to a razor's edge. Her father had given her the blade for self-defense, and taught her to always keep it clean, sharp, and on her person. It had only ever drawn blood once, on the day Renault defended herself against the wizardess who attacked her. Now it was waiting to take the blood of another wizardess, this one young and innocent. That thought gave Renault further pause, but she shook her head. If I don't do it, then someone else will.

Won't they?

She glanced up at the afternoon sun, shielding her eyes. From the belfry of the nearby Town Hall she heard three gongs of a bell, and the town crier on the street below announcing the time and the upcoming events for the hour. She had several more hours to wait, which were nothing compared to the weeks of travel that had been, until this moment, utterly fruitless. Ten bells, she thought as she skulked away from the town square. She needed a distraction from her meddling conscience. Perhaps if she planned out the act to the slightest detail, as her father had taught her to do with difficult thefts, she could purge the doubt and focus only on the job. At the very least, she could ignore it long enough to do what she knew needed to be done. Somewhat comforted by this, she continued on, studying the town's land marks and looking for perfect spot to commit what she decided to call simply "The Act".

Don't sympathize with your victim, young sneak. Our work is part of the natural order. She sighed. Natural order. It's the natural order. Father, please help me with this. Give me the strength to do what I have to do here.

*****

"It is a lovely town, is it not?" Gelessa asked as she and Renault strolled through the square, away from the stage. Sounds of drunken revelry permeated the air and the occasional firework exploded overhead, flashing an oddly eerie daylight-like brightness onto their night walk.

"Yes it is," Renault said, finding some amusement at Gelessa's perpetually formal tone of speech. She briefly wondered if the girl thought she was some kind of royalty herself. "I'm tempted to stay for at least a while."

"Not I," Gelessa said. She sighed. "Mistress Aria plans to leave as soon as the festival is over, and I go where she goes."

"Does she mind your being gone tonight?"

"She prefers to stay alone with a book and a bottle of wine, instead of participating in the revelry. Assuming," she added with a shy smile, "she cannot locate a suitable – companion for the evening. She will be fine."

"You're not required find one for her?" To Gelessa's girlish, questioning look Renault added, "A companion, I mean. As her servant."

"I prefer to consider myself her assistant," Gelessa said. "And you may believe me that there are some tasks with which she requires no...assistance." She laughed.

Renault attempted a mutual laugh, but she was too busy keeping an eye on the path they were following. She was quite good with directions, even in the darkness, and despite their leisurely pace and small talk she kept them moving in the precise direction she had selected earlier that evening. Concentrating on that task helped her keep her emotions out of "The Act" that she knew was to come. "How did you meet her?" she asked the young woman. "You don't seem like the kind of woman to spend her life using her powers to support a traveling magician."

Gelessa's sweet smile remained, but she hung her head a little. "When I first gained my powers I was nine, I think. I started using them to play tricks on my friends and my parents, setting little brush fires and the like. When my parents caught me doing it they called me a witch, threw me out in the street, and told me to leave them before they called a mob." She sighed and rubbed an eye. "I suppose I was lucky they did not have me burned at the stake."

Renault stopped, her concentration likewise halting. "That's…horrible! I…I'm so sorry…you had to go through that." Despite the fact that Gelessa was to be her target, she could feel her sympathy growing for the young woman. Don't get too close to your mark, her father's memory immediately scolded. Don't feel sorry for them. Remember, if given the chance they'll do unto you just as you plan to do unto them. But that was about marks for theft, not for… "I can't imagine being so young, and…" She broke off, trying to cut herself off at the line between false and sincere pity.

Gelessa shrugged and her smile widened a little. "It all turned out for the best. I learned to not flaunt my power openly, but to still use it for constructive purposes. I met Lady Aria while she was performing in my town, but things were not going well for her. I showed her my 'trick' for lighting and controlling fires, and 'taught' her how to do it, even though I have always been doing it for her. Her show became quite popular from then on, and she was so pleased with me that she let me travel with her as her – assistant. We have been living like this for close to twenty years now, and we always manage to make a decent wage in each town. Lady Aria took me in and took care of me, and I owe her far more than I can ever repay."

Renault nodded, though given the shoddy state of the girl's clothing, she had some doubt about just how much care "Lady" Aria provided for her, and how much of the "decent wage" was actually spent on Gelessa. Stop sympathizing with her! she barked to herself, taking a small bite from her cheek. "I understand. I'm sorry if I offended you when I spoke of her tricks pejoratively."

Gelessa smiled and shook her head. She started walking again, and Renault stayed at her side. "Not at all. Mistress Aria can be off-putting at times, but she is a good woman and brilliant."

"You love her very much," Renault said.

"I do," Gelessa said. "She is a mother to me, and an older sister. If she were to retire tomorrow, I would stay with her."

They had reached the eastern edge of town, bordered by a stream bed channeling shin-deep muddy water and surrounded by a handful of modest shacks. It was the exact destination Renault had planned for them. She didn't want to be here yet; she didn't feel ready. Just a few more minutes, she thought. Hold yourself together, little sneak. Be ready. She squeezed her fists shut in anticipation both delicious and terrible, the palms becoming slick with sweat. "It sounds like she cares for you as much as you do for her," Renault said.

"She does, I believe it," Gelessa said with a sigh. "She can be somewhat frank and scathing at times, but she cares a great deal. She taught me to read and write, you know."

As Gelessa continued describing her relationship with the old woman, Renault let herself be distracted by her own thoughts. They stood there alone, the nearby hovels darkened, the crackling fireworks and distant drunken singing and shouting enough to mask a scuffle. Her heart pounded more rapidly in her chest than she'd ever remembered. Her chest was tight, and she had some difficulty drawing in her breaths. The time has arrived. She's distracted. This is it. Her hand quivered as she lowered it to the knife hiding within her dress folds.

She couldn't move her hand. It refused to take the knife and instead squeezed shut, pressing the cold sweat between her rough fingers. Why are you hesitating? she asked herself. You know this must be done! This is what you've chosen, to protect yourself! For God's sake, take the bloody knife! She bit down hard on her tongue, gasping silently as she tasted the metallic, salty blood oozing into her mouth. It was painful, but it served its purpose as a distraction from her indecision.

"…she still has those flowers in her coach, even though they are wilting," Gelessa continued, laughing. "I do my best to keep them moist, if nothing else. Maybe if I had your power, I could keep them fresh for her forever."

"I imagine she would be lost without you, as you would be without her," Renault said, her bleeding tongue burning with each syllable and her breath coming in short rasps. She gave a false smile, masking the screaming voice in her head. This is the time! You can reach her throat so easily now! Do it. Take the knife. Do it now! Do it! Do it, do it, do it, DO IT!

Gelessa looked at her, mirrored the smile, and then back up into the sky as a series of fireworks went off. "I suppose you are…"

She never got to finish that thought. Finally succumbing, Renault drew the knife from its hiding place and brought it up in a swift move, thrusting toward the smaller woman's throat.

Her blade only met the open air.

A hand, iron-like in its strength, clamped onto her wrist and squeezed, forcing her grip open. The knife fell toward the ground but never landed. In a move almost too quick for the shocked Renault to detect, the knife was scooped from the air, brought around, and thrust into her belly. The blade, sharpened as it was, slid easily into her and, as the wielder drew it up toward her chest, Renault felt her insides burn like they'd been skewered with a red-hot branding iron.

All that had taken place in less than three seconds. She looked back down from her seized hand toward her "victim". Gelessa, the girl with the gentle eyes and modest clothing, stared at her with a fire burning in those blue orbs, making them appear almost white-hot. Renault, her body shaking with fear, surprise, and anger, could only gurgle as spittle that she was no longer able to swallow pooled in her throat. She felt an almost uncontrollable urge to vomit, and succeeded in fighting it only because her abdominal muscles were no longer able to contract upon her stomach.

"How foolish," Gelessa said. "You fancy yourself an actor, a con artist, I suppose?" Renault's head vibrated from side to side, not in a negative response, but in the involuntary jerks of her gravely injured body. Gelessa smiled, no longer with the warmth of a kindly young woman but icily, like the darkest and deepest of winter nights. Her eyes, no longer glowing with the rage of battle, were narrow and focused. "You gained power, and you thought you could take more of it by seeking out and killing other wizardesses, did you not?" She hesitated for a second, as if waiting for a response. "You are not the first." She withdrew the knife from Renault's abdomen, slicing more flesh until the blade scraped the bone of her sternum just before retreating to the open air.

Renault, still in pain but also filling with an almost giddy warmth, felt her limbs slacken as she was shoved backward into the stream. She tumbled down, smashing her head on some rocks as she rolled into the muddy stream. Stars danced before one of her eyes, the other only showing her darkness. She landed face-up in the water, the top half of her body just barely floating downriver while her heels dragged against the slimy bottom. Cold numbness overtook her, though her stomach burned as the filthy water washed into the deep incision that had been made there. As the events of the previous minute replayed themselves in her mind, she finally began to realize that she had been beaten at what she thought was her own game. A game she never should have played.

Gelessa tromped down the stony, muddy river bank, her trouser-clad legs sinking almost knee-deep in the stream. She knelt next to Renault and placed a hand on her face. "I bet you have even practiced this speech," Gelessa said softly, as if seducing a lover. She stroked Renault's cold, colorless cheek. "Trust me; I have spoken it more times than you think." She cleared her throat in an almost dainty, girlish manner. "I have mortally wounded you. You will not survive, and you now have two choices. You can either give up your power and your life to me, ending your suffering, or you can cling selfishly to them. If you are selfish I will let the stream wash you away, and over the next few days you be eaten alive by wild dogs, crows, water insects... You may not feel the real pain just yet, but you will feel that. You will wish for death, but it will not come as long as you hold on to those powers. I have seen it before, and it is quite unpleasant to watch. I can only imagine how it feels."

Renault stared with her single working eye at Gelessa for a moment longer, but her mind's eye held her true attention. She saw her father, training her in the fine art of pick pocketing using an old dummy strung up to the rear wall of one of the many hovels they had called home. She saw the young sons of landowners, whom she had manipulated into giving her expensive gifts that supplemented the income from her petty thievery after her father's death. She saw the first wizardess she'd ever met, writhing on the ground, her body broken and useless. She saw the second wizardess she had ever met, clumsily striking at her before Renault turned the tables and took her attacker's own life.

She saw her father's face, staring into hers. "F-father..." she breathed.

Her senses returned to the present, the pain in her body rising once again. She again saw the face of the third wizardess, Gelessa, staring down at her much in the way Renault herself had intended to do. Despite her agony and anguish, she felt laughter rise through the blood and stream water flowing into her throat.

I suppose this is what Father would have called "delicious irony", she thought. At least…at least I didn't become a monster. As she gazed up into the cold eyes looking down upon her in the crescent moonlight, she finally accepted that she was finished. She had played a dangerous game, and lost all. Just like her father.

"Damn you," Renault mouthed. She then closed her remaining eye, and let go. She jerked as the pain in her body jumped a hundredfold for an instant, but then it was gone. Light exploded into her vision, but in it she could once again see her father. He was reaching a hand down toward her, and she could feel herself reaching back.

A second later, Renault was gone.

Gelessa tilted her head up as the lightning-like bolts danced over her skin. The sensation tingled, the pleasure of the transference every bit as luscious as the five times she had previously experienced it. It tickled places of her body that one did not discuss in polite company, and she let out a moan that was drowned out by the gurgling water and the popping fireworks in the night sky.

When it was finished she looked back down, her breaths heavy and hot. She could see the last bits of Renault's body and clothing dissolving into the muddy water, leaving no trace of what had occurred. She stood and ascended out of the water, her power carrying her as a leaf was carried by a gentle breeze.

She glanced about as she set her rag-wrapped feet onto the bank above, satisfied that she had drawn no attention to herself. She looked down into her left hand, still holding the knife that had belonged to the late Renault. The blood on it, and on her hand, had dissolved into a clear liquid, much as the rest of Renault's body had. Just the same as the other five wizardesses' bodies had. She smiled and wiped the blade dry on her trousers. It would be another wonderful trophy of her path to power.

She held her grin as she strode back toward Aria's coach, hearing loud snores from inside carrying even over the drunken singing not far away. Her mistress so loved her wine, especially with Gelessa's special mix of sleep herbs. The cocktail turned out to be quite useful when Gelessa needed her privacy away from her demanding patroness.

For all the care the old woman had given her, Gelessa knew she would one day have to discard her just as she'd done to the ones like Renault. She wondered if, before that day, Aria would catch on to Gelessa's true purpose, but then satisfied herself that it would not come to pass. As much as she loved the old woman, Gelessa knew she was just another fool.

I hope the entire world is not as foolish as those who continually cross my path, she thought. I would not want world domination to become boring.

*****

Author's Note: Thanks to Genesis Sage and Rakasha Shadowfang for Beta Reading for me, and for your help in fine-tuning things! Thanks also to both my dear wife and my mother for helping with this story when I first wrote it years ago, and to my father-in-law for helping me learn the true importance of becoming one with your characters.