Victor of Tucson

Victor sat in the formal dining room of Issa’s home in the metallic tower on the edge of First Landing. She’d invited him and the others for dinner—a sendoff and thank-you for their efforts. Only Alec, Issa, a man named Boris Saltzki, and a woman named Diane Royce were there to represent the growing colony, and Victor was fine with that. Still, it didn’t stop Issa from feeling self-conscious about the little group. “I hope you don’t mind that I kept things small,” she said, leaning to her right, close to Victor and, beside him, Valla. “There were dozens, maybe hundreds of people clamoring to join us, and I couldn’t think of a fair way to pair things down. Instead, I insisted that you’d want some calm after your heroics on the field and the frenzy of the crowd afterward.”

“You used me as an excuse?” Victor grinned as Valla elbowed him in the ribs.

As he hammed it up, wincing and rubbing at his side, she said, “You don’t know his humor. He’s teasing. This is perfect.”

“Well, I have some ulterior motives for keeping it small. I wanted to be sure that Boris and Diane had a chance to speak with you.” Issa gestured to her left, where her two other guests occupied the spots across from Victor and Valla. Further down the table were Alec, Borrius, Darro, and Nia. As Victor scanned the table, he started to laugh.

“Hey, Borrius. I just realized you and Boris have almost the same name.”

“How astute, Victor.” Borrius sighed at the interruption, then turned back to Alec and continued his description of an inn he’d been impressed by in Tharcray. Leave it to the old commander to try to teach Alec about the hotel business.

“I’ve cooked something simple, but I hope it will remind you of home, Victor; it’s one of the first dishes from Earth that I tasted when I came to First Landing. My friend, Maria, taught me how to make it.” Victor saw her focus, and she spoke very carefully, trying to properly enunciate the vowels and syllables as she said, “Enchiladas.”

“En serio?” Victor’s eyes opened wide with excitement.

“Yes! Seriously. I hope I did them justice, but I’m not too worried. I’m good with recipes, and Maria has tasted my efforts. I’m fairly sure she’d tell the truth if they weren’t good.”

“Awesome! Thank you, Issa.” Suddenly, Victor’s entire outlook had changed. He’d been sort of dreading sitting around talking over another fancy meal. Now, he had enchiladas to look forward to.

“It’s my pleasure.” Issa looked tickled by Victor’s genuine enthusiasm. “Excuse me while I check on my children and then the food. I’ll be back shortly. Diane, now would be a good time to speak to our guests about your research.” She stood and walked away while Diane cleared her throat and looked at Victor and Valla. She was clearly nervous, struggling to maintain eye contact with either of them.

“She has kids?” Victor asked, saving the woman from having to speak first.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Boris chuckled. “Two little ones and a few older ones she’s kind of adopted. You’d never know it, considering how hard she works, but yeah, she’s one of the most generous, big-hearted people I’ve ever met.”

“Sheesh,” Victor sighed, leaning back. “Now I feel lazy.”

“Ah!” Diane finally found her voice. “That’s an excellent segue, Mr. Sandoval. I wouldn’t call what you did on the field today lazy—in fact, it was the most eye-opening demonstration of personal power I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen Morgan Hall in action!” She smiled again, looking nervous as everyone turned to her. She was a small, jittery woman with light brown hair, cut short above the ears and tapered at the neck—not too different from Victor’s usual haircut. She had rosy cheeks and brown eyes, and when she blushed nervously, she reminded Victor of a school kid who knew the answer but was scared to say it in front of the class. “I’ve been, um, researching the spirit Cores among the Urghat, Grugell, and Krystree peoples.”

Victor frowned and glanced at Valla. “I’ve heard of the Urghat but not the others.”

“They’re all considered ‘low-affinity’ by the System, and so they aren’t given access to the boons it grants—levels, skills, even the language integration skill. When we began integrating them into our society, I was on the team to help document their languages and cultural practices. That’s when I made the connection about the ‘low-affinity’ species having a higher incidence of spirit Cores than among other peoples.” She gestured around the table. “In fact, Victor, you’re the first human I’ve heard of who has one.”

“Yeah, I heard something similar during that town hall.” Victor shrugged. He could tell she wasn’t trying to be insulting, so he waited to hear her out.

“I’ve learned that those with spirit Cores are revered among the low-affinity folks; they’re seen as leaders and as a living connection to their ancestors. I believe such Cores used to be more common among other peoples, too—the Shadeni, Ardeni, and Ghelli in particular. Have you run across others with such an affinity in your travels?”

“Not many, but yeah. It was a Shadeni Old Mother—kind of a wise woman—who taught me most of what I’ve learned. Well, and a spirit fragment I found in an artifact deep under the earth.” Victor glanced at Valla, scratched his jaw in contemplation, then added, “It shouldn’t be a secret that spirit Core affinities are tied to a person’s character traits and emotions. They’re the essence of who we are. Old Mother used to tell me that civilized folk—her words—worked hard to weed emotions out of their magic. That prejudice made it kind of rare for people to form a spirit Core, even if it might have been possible for them. There are tons of Ardeni and Shadeni with simple pearl Cores. They use basic, unattuned Energy, and I bet many of them might have formed spirit Cores but were steered away from them by a mentor.”

“But why? It’s clear that your magic isn’t weak. Why would the magical schools and ‘mentors,’ as you call them, try to weed spirit Cores out?”

Valla answered for him, her voice soft but thick with emotion as she remembered something disturbing, “Because they’re dangerous.” She glanced at Victor almost apologetically.

“It’s all right. Tell her.”

“People have dark sides to their spirits, and often they’re the stronger affinities. You saw Victor unleash his rage on the field outside the wall, but what you don’t know is that he had to work very hard to gain that kind of control. Once upon a time, anyone around him, even us up on the wall, would have been at risk. I . . . I doubt Victor wants to speak about it, but there are other affinities that are even more dangerous, more frightening.”

“Ah!” Victor had heard the idiom about a lightbulb going off in someone’s head, but he’d never seen it so well represented as at that moment in Diane’s expression. “That explains everything—the stigma, the prejudice, the lack of such Cores among the city-dwelling folk. I can imagine how affinities based on negative traits or emotions could cause problems among people whose ties weren’t as close-knit as a clan or tribal structure. Imagine someone with an affinity for paranoia running amok in New York City!” She turned to Boris as she spoke, and he nodded along with her.

“It’s not just negative affinities that can be a problem,” Victor added. When they looked at him with questioning expressions, he said, “Think of the damage someone with an affinity for love could do with the wrong intentions.”

“You mean . . .” Boris’s words trailed off as his mind traced dark paths.

“Yeah.” Victor shrugged. “I could be a real asshole with some of my affinities, especially as my Core continues to grow in power.” The conversation was put on hold as Issa returned carrying a big, steaming casserole dish. Victor’s mouth began to water as the unmistakable, smoky scents of baked chili peppers, onions, and corn tickled his nose, waking up memories he’d left buried for far too long. He saw his abuela’s smiling face as she lifted a pot from the oven. He saw his cousins laughing around the big table in her kitchen. He felt a loss so keen that his eyes began to tear up, and he had to look down and squeeze them shut for a moment.

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The dinner was delicious, and Victor had a lot of fun describing some of the dishes he missed from home. Issa’s enchiladas were great, the best thing he’d eaten in months, but they weren’t exactly like his abuela’s. It made sense—every family did something a little different. They weren’t very spicy, and there was more cheese and greens than he was used to, but Victor couldn’t imagine complaining; the meal was terrific.

As they ate, they spoke about Cores, about cultivating, and about how important it was to find natural treasures that would allow them to craft more powerful items and to improve their bodies. As Dennis Whitehorse had learned the hard way, a person’s strength, or any other attribute, could reach heights that the people in the human colony hadn’t entirely realized. Overall, it was a pleasant meal with good food and company, and Victor felt much better about the human settlement than he had going into it.

They wrapped things up early—Issa insisted she had to spend some time with her children, and Victor and the others hoped to sleep in their own beds that night. With that in mind, Alec guided them back through town in the early evening to the portal hall. The people they passed on the way were pleasant, and several clapped and called out Victor’s name. He felt almost like they’d ask for an autograph if times were a little different. They were even stopped by a few parliament members who offered their thanks.

Unsurprisingly, they saw nothing of Whitehorse or his faction. As they approached the portal hall, Alec chuckled as Victor mentioned the contentious man’s absence. “Oh, he’s off with his aides trying to salvage something from his defense budget. He’s going to get massacred in the assembly on Monday.”

“Speaking of budgets,” Borrius said, clearing his throat obnoxiously.

“Ah, don’t you worry, good sir! I have your payment right here.” Alec slapped a pouch that hung from his belt. “A lot of beads, but I think it’s worth it, considering you probably saved us from just as much trouble. P&D will have to curtail their warmongering for the foreseeable future.” He unfastened the pouch and handed it to Victor. When Victor trickled a bit of Energy into it, he was pleased to find the full sum of promised Energy beads within the dimensional container.

“You guys can make these?” Victor held up the bag.

“Beads? Or dimensional containers? Well, yes to both. That many beads would take us a long time to craft, but we earn a lot through our trade partners. We’ve apparently thought of some clever uses for Energy that hadn’t yet occurred to the people in this world. The telephones, for instance—Tarn’s Crossing paid us a tidy sum for a similar system. Boris is in talks with Persi Gables now that we have a portal connecting us. I think we’re going to see some big paydays soon.”

“You’re coming back with us, yes?” Valla asked, stepping closer to Alec.

“Oh, I’ll come through in the morning if that’s all right. I’d like to spend a little time with the hotel staff tonight. There are a few adjustments I want to make to the schedule.”

“Of course, that’s fine.” Valla smiled, reaching out to clasp Alec’s hand. “Thank you so much for this opportunity. Lam will be thrilled that we have the funding for the stone’s advancement. We’re all very worried about our friend and want to start taking action to help her.”

“Will you leave right away?”

Victor nodded, gesturing toward Nia, Darro, and Borrius. “Probably, yeah. We’ll drop these folks off, and then I’m going to go down to the stone to see how much I can unlock with these.” He jostled the sack of beads, though they didn’t click together, and the bag felt empty—they were all in the dimensional space. He shook Alec’s hand when Valla released him, and then the five of them waited while Alec activated the teleportation stone. The crackling blue portal appeared, bright enough to make Victor squint in the dim light of the hall, and, with a wave, he stepped through.

He emerged into the dark, silent, cold air of the Travel Pavilion back in the Free Marches. It was well past midnight there, and the colony was fast asleep. With crackling bursts of light, his companions came through behind him, and then the portal shimmered and popped out of existence. “I almost expected some treachery,” Borrius announced, looking around.

Nia nodded, hand on the hilt of her belt knife. “Me as well, Lord Borrius.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Valla asked.

The scarred, angry-looking woman formed a rare smile, showing her surprisingly white, straight teeth. “I didn’t want to insult our host and trusted Lord Victor would see us through any deceit.”

“All right, well, things went fine. I’m heading to the colony stone.” Victor turned to look Valla in the eyes. “I have a meeting with that steward tomorrow, the one who used to work for Polo. If I can get him to agree to work for me, I’ll be ready to leave. Will you find Lam and Lesh and fill them in?”

“I was thinking I’d find her, aye. She’ll want to hear the good news.” She stepped forward, offered him a quick kiss, and then started toward the door. Victor had just turned to pass some final instructions to Nia when the portal burst to life again with crackling blue Energy. He stepped back, snatched Lifedrinker out of her harness, and severed the Energy feeding his Alter Self spell, surging to his full, natural height. He heard Valla’s wings crack open and Midnight sing as she drew the blade. Nia, grimacing with determination, drew her long, curved knife and hurried to stand beside him. A second later, a man stepped through the portal.

“Oh, God, don’t hit me!” Darren Whitehorse wailed, holding his hands up, illustrating his lack of weaponry. “I come in peace!”

Victor growled and lowered his axe. “What the fuck, Darren? You’re supposed to schedule activation of this portal using the Farscribe Book.”

In a stunning display of obsequious groveling, the man fell to his knees before Victor, ducking his head so his long, dark ponytail flopped over his shoulder. “I . . . I’m not authorized to use the portal. I’ve come to join you, to follow you, Victor. It’s the only way I’ll ever save any face. I have to learn what I’ve failed to grasp. My political ambitions are over—I’ve left my resignation from parliament with a friend. Please! I have to learn!”

“Nah, that’s not happening. I’m not babysitting you. There’s just as much chance you’d die as learn something.” Everyone’s eyes were on him now, and Victor waved Nia, Darro, and Borrius off. “You guys can go. Nia, come see me in the morning, please.”

“As you say, Lord.” Nia slammed her knife back into its sheath, a look of something like disappointment in her eyes. She left, and Darro followed, but Borrius lingered.

The old commander cleared his throat. “Victor, you could do much for your people, I mean your kin from your homeworld, if you were to help this man. Assuming his intentions are true.”

“They are! They are! Truly, Victor—you’ve opened my eyes! I know you can swat me like a gnat. I know I’m nothing to you. Let me learn! I’ve failed so many people and wasted so much time, Energy, and wealth! Please! I’ve left my aide; I’ve left most of my belongings—it’s just me, and I swear I’ll be no burden. I’ve brought enough money to fund my passage. Let me see what’s beyond this world. Let me learn the truth about this new System-controlled universe. Let me bring something valuable home to our people. Let me spread true knowledge, not the nonsense I’d allowed to cloud my mind!” The man’s pleas were desperate in their apparent sincerity, tears pooling in his eyes as he begged. Victor had never seen anything like it.

Victor looked at Borrius, then down at Darren, and his scowl sent a shudder through the man. To his credit, Whitehorse didn’t look away. “First of all, those aren’t my people. I like some of them, and I suppose I’m related to one of ‘em, but these,” Victor gestured around, indicating Rellia’s burgeoning capital, “are my people.” He looked over his shoulder at Valla, but she simply shrugged. He supposed she’d have advice for him later when the others weren’t listening. “Borrius, will you show him where the inn is? I’ll talk to him in the morning.” Scowling, furious annoyance threatening to push regretful words through his lips, Victor turned and stalked into the night.

He'd only managed a dozen paces into the garden outside the Travel Pavilion when Valla caught up to him. He was still full-sized, his long strides forcing her to jog as she said, “Calm down, Victor. Talk to me.”

He slowed and glared down at her; for a moment, his anger was directed toward her, and she flinched. That expression finally got through to him, and the scope of his overreaction dawned on him. “Jesus, what’s wrong with me?”

“I was going to ask that! So what if he came here begging to join you? Just say no. Why are you upset?”

“I . . .” Victor closed his eyes and thought about it. When it clicked, he chuckled. “I’d convinced myself that man was my enemy. Some part of me is pissed that he’s here. Some part of me wants to rip him to pieces. Dammit, Valla, I have to get a grip on this Quinametzin anger. Pride? It’s all a blurry, hot mess in my head. I think I wanted him to suffer through his humiliation back home. I’m irritated that he slipped away and did the only really smart thing he could do—ask us for help.”

“And part of you knows it’s the right thing to do. If he was the primary obstacle to your cousin’s politics, wouldn’t it help her if we can educate the man? Wouldn’t it promise a more hopeful future for your species here on Fanwath if he were to return and help her and Issa rather than rallying people against them?”

“Yeah.” Victor sighed, then turned back toward the center of the colony. “I’ll go feed the stone. Let’s talk about this later. Just because we help him doesn’t mean he has to tag along. We could leave him with Borrius.” Victor barked a short laugh. “Imagine that! Borrius would lecture him night and day!” Valla wasn’t quite as amused as he was, but she hugged him briefly, and then Victor walked alone to the colony stone. As he went, his mind ran through the situation, and he knew he was full of shit; he’d probably bring Darren with him, if for no other reason than to watch his face when he realized how wrong he’d been. “What’s one more guy following me around? I’ll put Lesh in charge of him, chica.” Victor laughed at the idea. “I gotta admit, though, the guy surprised me. I think Olivia will thank me if I keep him. Better he’s here, learning a lesson than stirring up more trouble for her.”

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