Mind Over Matter Read online

when you translated the complicated knot of the thing from four into four and a half dimensions.

  Instead of seeming like a tangle of branches or roots, from Dora's viewpoint it looked more... well, intestinal, much as the thought made her slightly nauseous. Still, she could see the ashtmer just fine. A thought brought it spinning out of place and into her hand. Blackness evaporated, replaced by a wild jumble of Second Realm colours. Wild Power boiled up within her, until she could feel herself breathing it out, feel it pouring out of her eyes and ears.

  With the Sherim singing for her, perched gently on the palms of her spread hands, Dora spun, all sense of constraint blown away. It was only when she thought of trying to get a look at her assailants that she remembered to open her eyes.

  A visualisation fell into place almost instantly, before she even had time to go through the normal motions of finding a horizon or the Court. She walked along a narrow wooden bridge, dense forest greenery concealing the cliff that had to be just to her left, the sea stretching away to her right, far below. A pair of birds tumbled and played in flight, swooping down to the wooded, hidden shore.

  Dora knew she could expect a headache to start any time soon, with this being her second foray into the Second Realm today. She needed to find and finish her assailants fast, then get out. Disorientation assailed her as she checked she could still find the Sherim - it hung behind her, but she felt an ineffable echo somewhere above her head, in among the branches of the precarious tree-limb from which the bridge hung.

  A vast, bloated flower hung down from a limb of that tree, petals more jaundiced than golden, withered grey-brown vines dangling from it like tattered rags. The flower struck a memory, and she looked closer. Keshnu? The Gift-Giver's logic was badly battered, a mess of writhing filaments at the core of the flower, trying to rebuild itself. There weren't words - at least, not any Dora knew - for the intricate processes of his consciousness, but she could tell there wasn't much of it left.

  There was still no sign of her assailants. Maybe they'd assumed her beaten and just left her here? She looked around as thoroughly as she could, but aside from the swaying of the bridge and the rustle of leaves in the wind, everything seemed inert. She couldn't even make out waves on the sea. If she was safe, then she needed to get back to the First Realm.

  She reached up a tentative hand towards the flower, desperately trying to think of some way she could help Keshnu. She just didn't know enough about the minds of Children of the Wild. Why hadn't her training gone into it in more detail? The Gift-Giver might die without aid.

  Dora took a deep breath, ignoring the fact that the Second Realm had no air - the wind tasted sweet, dry and fresh - and closed her eyes for a moment, measuring her own condition. Did she have the stamina for a trip to the Court? The insides of her eyelids were a steady, even, calming grey. In the darkness, she probed for any hint of fatigue headache.

  There was none. She must have racked up some fatigue, but perhaps whatever she'd done - twice now - with the Sherim had restored her. Perhaps the Second Gift had strengthened her. It was about time it was good for something. Feeling the tingle of skin-to-skin interference with another mind run up her arm, she cupped her hand around Keshnu and braced to lift him.

  In the final instant before contact, the flower unfolded, the world collapsing in its wake to smother her out of thought. Darkness rushed in, Keshnu dwindling ahead to a small golden globe. Dora stretched out a desperate hand towards him, but where her fingers should have brushed the orb, her vision doubled. Her straining hand went between the two Keshnus, and consciousness abandoned her.

  Dora's eyes opened to pale brown canvas. Her head ached. Beneath her, thick grass and a blanket absorbed only the very worst of the ground's lumpiness. The tent smelled faintly of disuse, tempered by the chill edge of the mountain air, the canvas rippling gently with the breeze. Keshnu must have made his trip to Dyshan. The honey quality of the light suggested it was day outside, but which day?

  Her eyes weren't sticky, which suggested she'd not been asleep a full night. She rubbed them anyway, hissing as her touch found what felt like nasty bruises. Her whole eyeballs felt swollen, like they'd pop if she pressed too hard. Something was wrong with one of her fingers, jagged pains shooting through the knuckle with everything she touched. She could feel the coarse cloth binding the splint to the joint, forcing her hand into an awkward strain just to be at rest.

  "Oh, hey. Afternoon." Breezy and delicate, the voice couldn't belong to Keshnu or Wolpan. "Dora, right?"

  Dora turned her head, found her neck in little better condition than the rest of her, and groaned. Blinking, she identified the blurred figure sitting next to her as Thia. "Yes." Her voice came thin and hoarse, and she stopped short of trying to say more.

  "Here." A canteen flopped down on Dora's blanket, setting off a row of aches in her arm. "How are you feeling?"

  With another groan, Dora levered herself up onto one elbow. Her blanket slipped off her shoulders, but whoever had put her to bed hadn't undressed her. She wriggled her toes, discovered one part of her that didn't ache. Her boots, now she bothered to look around, stood at the foot of the bed. Clumsily, she opened the canteen, splashing water down her face as she drank.

  Thia looked on, her hair dishevelled from the rough pillow but still lush. Dora swiped a hand across her mouth and met the Clearseer's gaze. "I'm aching all over, but I think I'm all here. Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

  Thia chuckled. "I feel about how you'd expect after burnout. Not all here. Actually, I feel worse than normal."

  "The rescue... wasn't straightforward. I'm sorry." Dora looked down, fumbled another swig from the bottle.

  "Well, I assumed as much, what with waking up next to you." Thia smiled, but her face fell almost as fast. "Were there any casualties? Wolpan?"

  "Wolpan survived the rescue. But..." Dora frowned, pressed a hand to her eyes despite the ache. She could remember everything that had happened before she blacked out, a sequence of crystal-clear images in perfect order, but she couldn't make sense of any of it. What had been going on, in her head and outside it? "Something strange happened once we got back to the First Realm. I remember being attacked, but I have no idea what by. Or how we escaped."

  Thia frowned. "Wolpan?"

  Dora blinked at the Clearseer for a moment before her brain caught up to the question. "I don't know. I lost track of her during the attack, and then I got knocked out. You haven't seen her?"

  "Haven't even gotten up yet." There was levity in the other woman's voice, but none in her face. "I've not been awake long."

  "Hm. I wonder where we are." Dora ran a hand through her hair, wincing as it ran into a hard knot of tangle. They'd been talking for a good minute or more without the faintest flicker of danger. The Sherim wasn't anywhere nearby then. Who had moved them?

  Thia cracked a smile, one eyebrow raised. "Feel up to finding out?" She slid herself forward to the tent flap, began to push it open. Dora made a last futile gesture at her hair and pushed herself up to sitting. Thia poked her head out and called, "Hello? Anyone out there?"

  A muted voice answered, just too low for Dora to make out the words. Canvas slapped back against itself as Thia drew back inside. The Clearseer grinned over her shoulder at Dora. "You look a state. Must have been a pretty disastrous rescue."

  Dora tried to scowl, but it just made her head ache that much more. It was hard to be angry with Thia, particularly when she gave such a warm laugh. "Sorry, not the time. Keshnu and Wolpan are coming."

  As if summoned by her words, two shadows fell across the front of the tent. One dropped to a crouch, and Keshnu's head poked through the flap. The Gift-Giver was back to his usual, graceful self, the slightest of smiles fixed on his distinguished features. He glanced from Thia to Dora. "Good, you're both awake. How do you feel?"

  Dora and Thia spoke at the same moment, froze and shared a glance. Thia laughed again, gesturing for Dora to go ahead. Dora frowned. Surely Thia was the more critical
patient? She looked up to find Keshnu watching her expectantly. It wasn't like him to err over something so important, particularly when a clear protocol existed. Maybe he thought she was worse off than Thia? That was a troubling thought.

  Which wouldn't help her think of how to answer. How was she feeling? "Sore. What happened?"

  Keshnu's face darkened a shade. His eyes flickered to Thia and back. "That's a very complicated question. Can you get up? Thia, Wolpan will see to you."

  The Clearseer shot a troubled glance at Dora, then smiled and nodded to Keshnu. Dora reached for her boots, groaning as the motion squeezed her bruised midriff. Even age-worn, the boots were tough to pull on, and her shoulders were limp by the end of it. Her head felt suddenly heavy. Too enervated to bother tying her laces, she tucked the trailing ends into the tops of the boots and crawled to the flap.

  It was cold without her blanket. Well, if Keshnu already thought she was weaker than a Clearseer mere hours after logic burnout, there was no point keeping up appearances. She dragged the blanket clumsily up over her shoulders and struggled outside on her knees.

  Keshnu helped her to her feet, his touch gentle and precise as ever. His hand lingered on hers for just a moment after she straightened, and she glanced up at his face in sudden alarm. He was