Path of Destiny pt. 1
#2 of Patterns of the Grand Design
This is a sequel to Threads on a Tapestry. I recommend you read the first story before reading this so you will have a better understanding of the overall premise and the charactes. This is a work of fiction. It contains explicit adult themes and as such is not recommended for readers under the age of 18. ____________________________________________________________________________ PATTERNS OF THE GRAND DESIGN - PART I Gentle, golden shafts of sunlight poked through the window, accompanied by a soft, cool breeze that carried the scent of early autumn. Dawn crept slowly across the floor then climbed the bed, bathing the blankets and sheets in a surrealistic glow. Two figures lay atop the sheets, spooned together; red fur intertwined with blue. The vixen awoke first, gazing at her mate with a warmth that seemed to radiate from her whole being. She could still feel him inside her, tied with her as firmly as when they had both fallen asleep. Smiling, she gently whispered a single word into his ear. Her fingers traced a glowing pattern across his sheath and he shuttered, yipping softly as he released his seed into her. She pulled him close, sighing as she felt her own body flutter as it accepted this most intimate of gifts. Victor Peabody slowly opened his eyes and smiled. He loved the way she woke him and he showed it by gently licking and nipping at the fur on her neck. "Good morning, magic lady," he whispered. "And to you, my love," she responded, kissing him gently on the nose pad. Her voice was like the tinkling of wind chimes. "It's almost seven. Don't you have a nine-thirty meeting with the Head Curator today?" "Mmmm?" "Your meeting," she insisted softly. "Today's your big day... isn't it?" He grinned playfully. "Everyday I wake up with you is my big day." She ran her finger along the bridge of his muzzle. "Silly todd," she murmured. "Flattery will get you everywhere, except your meeting," her fingers slid across his face to pinch his cheek ruff. She sniffed delicately at his chest fur. "You need a shower. Think you're relaxed enough now to pull free?" Victor tried and the two Zorr gently separated with a soft, wet, slurping sound. They'd been sleeping nearly every night tied together like this. In all his life he had never slept so soundly, nor dreamt so vividly as he did now. Pulling apart from her was the hardest thing he did each morning. Rolling out of bed, the todd picked up a large towel from a chair and wrapped it around his waist. Leaning over, he kissed his mate on the cheek, then ambled off the to bathroom, whistling a silly little tune. The vixen waited until she heard the shower running, then rose and slipped into a silk, knee-length bathrobe. Casually she waved her hand through the air. The bed sheets cleaned, straightened and pulled themselves tight. The pillows bounced up and down on the bed until properly fluffed and the blankets and bedspread crawled their way up to the headboard, covering all. Strolling into the small kitchen she supervised as the room seemed to take on a life of its own. Pans and pots floated purposefully from the cupboards. The refrigerator contributed eggs, butter, milk and sausages to the airborne waltz. A loaf of bread crawled out of a nearby drawer and donated several of its own slices to a countertop toaster. Behind her the breakfast table busily set itself. The only appliance not participating was a coffee-brewer. It sat solemnly in a nearby corner, arrogantly ignoring the magic surrounding it until the timer on its face read seven-ten. With technological precision a small light came on, a bell chimed and the machine began hissing away at its very no-nonsense task of making coffee. The vixen stuck her tongue out at it in mock defiance. Breakfast was ready by the time Victor was finished with the shower. He quickly dried himself and put on a thick, terrycloth bathrobe before coming to the table. With one hand he picked up the coffee pot and poured two cups of coffee. The other held a stiff brush with which he groomed out his facial fur. He glanced over at his blue-furred mate. "It looks wonderful," he said, eyeing the plate of food that floated in from the kitchen, "but isn't using magic on such mundane chores a bit of an excess?" "How many times did we make love last night?" the vixen asked. "Three, wasn't it?" "Five!" The todd's eyebrows shot up. "Five? Are you sure?" She nodded. "Three times before we went to sleep; once in your sleep and one more when you woke up." "With all that, you must be full to the brim with manna." "Overfull, actually," she said. "Since I'm no longer a full-fledged djin my magical reservoir isn't nearly as large as it once was. I fill up easily with all the love-making we do." "Think we should rein it in?" he offered. "Not on your life," she growled softly. "You're the only master I've had who thinks about me first and himself second. I want to enjoy that for as long as I can." She walked around to her chair, tapping Victor lightly on the head as she passed behind him. He shivered as a tingling sensation ran up and down his body and his fur instantly smoothed itself out. "Besides, there are fringe benefits to having a little excess energy." "So what would happen if you didn't use magic?" "I'd overcharge, and then start leaking manna uncontrollably." "And that's bad because..." The blue vixen took a delicate bite of sausage. "If you can imagine living in a house with a couple dozen poltergeists... same difference. I can't store enough manna to do really powerful spells, but picture a hundred or so small, uncontrolled spells going off all day long." "Ouch!" "That would be an understatement." Victor took a bite of scrambled egg. "Have you given any thought to what we talked about yesterday?" "What was that?" "Your name." "I already have a name." "I know, but you won't tell me what it is," the todd said. "That's because it's my true name," the vixen replied. "I am a djin. If I told you that, you'd gain possession over my very soul. Besides, I like the names you use while we're in bed together." "Well, you can't very well use any of those on a driver's license, and I won't take you out into the world and introduce you to people as my slave." "Why not? It's worked for over twenty-five hundred years." Victor shook his head. "This is the twenty-second century. If I told people you were my slave they'd lock me up. Construct slavery ended four generations ago. We also have to create some kind of documentary background for you so people won't think you just popped out of thin air." "But honey," she purred,"that's precisely what I did." "I know, but we can't let anyone else know that. This world has enough of a problem dealing with reality. Imagine what would happen if they found out magic really existed." "Okay!" she replied, cupping her chin in her hands and smiling, "If it's important, why don't you give me a name?" "Seriously?" he asked. She nodded. The todd sat thoughtfully for a moment or two. "Well, you were a djin. Why don't I call you Jeannie?" he grinned playfully. "You do and I'll have that frying pan come over here and beat you severely about the head and shoulders. Just pick a name you like!" "Alright then," he said. "How about Sapphire? It goes well with your fur color, and we can use D'Zauberin as your surname. It sounds exotic." "D'Zauberin?" "Yes," Victor nodded. It's a slight corruption of the German word die zauberin which means..." "The enchantress; yes, I know." The todd raised one eyebrow in mild surprise. "You speak German?" She ran a hand gently under his chin. "I speak whatever I need to, darling. It's part of the whole 'Slave of the Lamp' gig. Besides, it helps that my seventh mistress was from Bavaria." The vixen thought about it for several seconds. "Sapphire... Sapphire D'Zauberin. I like that. It kind of rolls off the tongue, and you're right," she smiled. "It sounds wonderfully exotic." "I'm glad," Victor replied. "A treasure such as you needs a beautiful name." "With lines like that, I'm surprised your first wife ever walked out on you." "You really can't put all the blame on her..." he replied, taking a sip of coffee. "We both did things that fouled up our relationship. Our hormones were on overdrive and we married way too soon." Ah! Young lust. But if it was both your faults, why were you the one paying alimony?" "Simple. She had a better lawyer." "One more reason why they're exempted from the magical 'No Kill' list." The todd chuckled as he finished the last few bites of his breakfast. "You know, half the time I can't tell when you're serious and when you're pulling my leg." "Neither can I," the vixen responded, delicately dabbing her mouth with a napkin. " It makes life interesting to say the least." "Isn't there an old Chinese curse about living in interesting times." "Trust me, my darling. There is no such thing as un-interesting times." * * * * Victor arrived at the museum thirty minutes before his appointment. He used this time to check the progress on his latest restoration project. The large nine by fifteen flag had been found in an attic trunk some six years ago and had been purchased by the museum board after being authenticated by no less than three different experts. The todd carefully checked the thread being used to patch several holes in one of the fifteen red and white stripes. Color, weave and fiber had to match perfectly if the holes were to be rendered invisible. A part of him couldn't help but wonder how the holes came to be. Moths probably, though the romantic in him preferred to imagine them resulting from a hail of musket and cannon fire. The War of 1812 was almost three hundred and fifty years removed from Victor's time, an age of wooden ships and iron men, but it still held a fascination for the Zorr. He examined the needlepoint along the leading edge of the flag and smiled. The ship's name was perfectly readable from several feet away; U.S.S. Constitution. Checking his watch, Victor carefully shut down the worktable and left. The museum offices were located on the third floor of the ancient civilizations' wing. A small elevator carried him from the lobby to the receptionist's alcove. From there it was only a short walk to the curator's office. Knocking, he opened the door and poked his head into the small secretarial office. The human sitting at the desk looked up from her computer and smiled. "Mister Peabody! Good morning, sir. How are you today?" Stepping into the room Victor carefully adjusted his tie and gently cleared his throat. "Good morning, Ms. Sommes. I'm fine, thank-you. I have a nine-thirty meeting with Dr. Schlesinger. Is he in?" "He's on a conference call with some of the board members, but he should be finished shortly. I'll let him know you're here." She gestured toward an overstuffed leather couch. Victor nodded gratefully and settled into the cushions, mindful that there was no tail-hole in the furniture. Fortunately the padding was thick enough that he could sit in reasonable comfort. He looked around the office, admiring the grandness of the décor. Such was the advantage of working in a museum. Anything not on public display that was not of an overly significant value was used to decorate the offices. It had the double effect of creating both a pleasing work environment and saving on storage space. The secretary turned back to her typing while the todd leaned his head back, closed his eyes and begin to meditate. The effort helped relax him. It wasn't long before he found himself being ushered into the curator's office. Dr. Avery Schlesinger was a large man, standing about six foot one with thick, gray-white hair and a thick, neatly trimmed moustache. Victor had always thought he bore a strong resemblance to the 20th century vid-actor, Cary Grant, providing you added about fifty pounds. He was smiling as the Zorr entered. Reaching out, the curator shook his hand vigorously and gestured to a nearby seat. "I swear, Peabody," he softly rumbled as he sat down again. "You and your fur-kin have an absolute gift for not showing your age. I was just going over your personnel file and I thought it said you were forty-five!" "Yes, sir, that's right." "Amazing!" he chuckled. "I'd swear you looked like an apprentice fresh out of college. What's your secret?" Victor shrugged. "Exercise, eating right, vitamins, oh, and more than a pinch of romance in one's life." "You don't say... finally found yourself a significant other? Nothing like love to keep a male of any species healthy, happy and young." "Yes, sir," Victor happily agreed. He left out the oh-so-minor detail that when they'd first made love, Sapphire had cast a rejuvenation spell on him. The curator reached into his desk and pulled out a thick file, which he set before the todd. "Let's get right on to business," he said, adjusting his glasses. "It hasn't been announced yet, but our Deputy Curator, Professor Reittenhaus, has decided to retire at the end of the year. This means there's going to be some shuffling of jobs within the museum staff. The board has selected Dr. Patterson for the Deputy Curator's position, and your boss, Dr. Vasquez, is being assigned her job as Assistant Curator in charge of Acquisitions." He paused for a moment to heighten the dramatic effect and his smile widened. "Both Vasquez and I agree that we would like you to apply to for the position of Assistant Curator for Restorations." Victor's jaw dropped open. "Sir?" Schlesinger chuckled. "It's times like this I know how old Ebenezer Scrooge must have felt when he gave Bob Cratchit his raise. I wish I had a camera, the expression on your face is priceless." "Yes, sir... I mean you really wish me to apply?" The curator nodded. "But what about the job prerequisites? I have a master's degree, but I only recently started working on my doctorate. What will the board say?" "I don't think you have to worry along those lines, Mr. Peabody. You've already demonstrated a knowledge base surpassing, if not at least equal to, doctorate level studies. Add to that you really care for the work and are on good terms with your fellow employees. I think the board will grant my recommendation for a waiver." The Zorr's mouth curled slowly into a smile. He could almost see the glass ceiling begin to crack as he listened to Schlesinger's words. Life was good. Nothing was impossible, and he had the mate to prove it. He looked across the desk at the curator. "What do you need for the application?" Victor asked. "A letter of intent, a short, one-page biography listing your professional and personal goals and a resume. Dr. Vasquez and I will provide the letters of reference for you. If you could have that for me by the end of the week I'll present it to the museum board at their Monday meeting." Dr. Schlesinger was interrupted by the buzz of his intercom. He reached over and flipped a switch. "Yes, Ms. Sommes. What is it?" "Sir, you have a phone call from the Chief of Security..." "What? Again? Okay, put him through." The curator looked over at Victor. "Sorry, this will only take a moment." The Zorr nodded and settled back in his chair, half listening to the conversation. "Good morning, Bob. What do you have for me?"
"You're not serious, are you?"
"That's not possible. We're running a museum, not a zoo."
"Effective when?
Today? Did you tell him he wouldn't be receiving any severance pay?"
"Well, if he won't change his mind then collect his keys and equipment and have Dale supervise him while he's cleaning out his locker. In the meantime I want you to call the agency and see if we can get a replacement for tonight."
"I don't know. Offer them triple scale if necessary. I'll clear the expenditure with disbursing, just get someone with a good work history."
"If you can't then you may have to stand his shift tonight."
"Yeah, that's right."
"Well, you knew the job was dangerous when you took it."
"No, I'm joking."
"Uh huh."
"Let me know what the agency says."
"Right, you too, Bob, talk with you later...Good-bye." Schlesinger shook his head wearily as he put the receiver back in its cradle. "Anything I can help with, sir?" Victor asked. The curator looked over at the Zorr. You wouldn't happen to know anyone who needs a job pulling night security?" "Sorry, no. Is Tom Asche quitting?" "Quitting? I guess you haven't heard. He resigned last week. That was his latest replacement Bob and I were talking about." Peabody's eyebrows arched quizzically. "Latest replacement?" "Yes! He's the third one this week, damn it all. It seams everyone working the midnight shift is going loony." "How so?" "They all claim they've been seeing wild animals running freely through the museum, specifically unicorns and lions. One fellow said he was nearly eaten by a lion the size of a Clydesdale horse. That was after admitting he'd had a drink or two on the way to work." The curator sighed. "It's getting harder and harder to find good employees." "Is it possible someone's pulling a gigantic hoax?" "More than likely," the curator responded. "I mean really, if those guards are correct the only other possible explanation would be nothing short of magic." Hearing this, a sudden chill washed through the Zorr. Half of him wanted to chuck the idea as preposterous. The other half knew better. As soon as his meeting with the curator ended, Victor went straight from the offices to Sub-Level Ten. No one was in sight as he entered the main storage vault. The todd quickly ran through the inventory list until he found the item he was looking for and set the retrieval system to carefully bring it out for examination. The massive robotic arms moved passed shelf upon shelf of artifacts, all carefully stored until it was their turn for display. Moments later they returned, carrying between them a large plexiglas case, within which rested an old tapestry. The Zorr approached the wall hanging and began examining it in detail. He focused on the central figures. The first was a gigantic Numidian lion, large enough to devour half a dozen men. The other was a unicorn, rearing up in defense of a small colt asleep in the grass behind it. Though dulled with age, the weave running through the image appeared intact. This, however, did not satisfy Victor. He exited the vault and retrieved a powerful magnifying glass from his tool kit. Returning, he pressed a small switch on the side of the display case and the plexiglas slid open. Blowing gently on the tapestry, he saw movement along the edge of the two main figures. Closer examination with the magnifying glass revealed a number of frayed and broken threads. They ran along the perimeter of both the lion and unicorn. It was almost as if the figures had been removed, then clumsily resewn into the pattern. A shiver unexpectedly ran down his spine. Victor looked up at the lion. Hatred, like waves of heat, assaulted the Zorr and he backed quickly away, suddenly more frightened than he had ever felt before. Fighting his initial impulse to run, he quickly resealed the plexiglas and had the tapestry put back in storage. Hands shaking, he secured the vault and left. * * * * Stepping from the shower, Sapphire wrapped herself in a large, thick terrycloth towel. The softness of the fabric felt wonderful against her wet fur. She moved toward the befogged mirror and wiped the steam away. She wrinkled her nose at the sopping wet, blue vixen that stared back at her. "No, this will never do," she muttered to no one in particular. She gracefully pirouetted, snapping the fingers on both hands. There was a whisper of wind; a bluish crackle of light and the towel fell away. Instantly her fur was dried, curried and properly fluffed so that it softly accentuating her more human-like curves. Her blue-black hair gently curled itself into long, thick ringlets that fell almost to her tail. She chuckled softly as she watched her tail arch itself and sway seductively back and forth. In over two thousand years of being a djin she'd often taken on the shape of some lowly animal or another, but this new anthrop body was unique. It was full of subtle cues and poses that couldn't be read except by another Zorr. Thanks to her innate magic, these were like an open book to her. The vixen felt a sudden thrill within and knew at once her master... "No," she mentally corrected herself... her mate was home. She snapped her fingers once more. The towel jumped off the floor and formed itself into a very short, tight, terrycloth bathrobe. She took a last look at herself in the mirror, lifted her tail just a bit then strolled into the living room. When she saw Victor she came to an abrupt halt. The todd was standing by the liquor cabinet pouring himself a large glass of scotch. His hands were trembling and his whole body was hunched like a tightly coiled spring. Fear lined his eyes and his tail flared and jerked nervously about. She watched as he drained the glass, then set it aside. "Is something the matter, love?" she asked softly, concern flashing from her eyes. The Zorr took a deep breath, trying to relax, and looked over at his mate. "I think there's something wrong with your tapestry." "Wrong? What do you mean, wrong?" He quickly explained what had been happening at the museum at night. "Right after I left Dr. Schlesinger's office I went straight to the vault. Your tapestry was there and so were the figures, but it's been tampered with." He took a breath to steady himself; "I think someone's been using magic to bring those figures to life, though I can't fathom why." The vixen gently took his hand. "What frightened you?" "The tapestry," he muttered. "I could almost feel a presence coming from the images, like they were alive and watching me. The lion in particular felt, I don't know... as if it wanted to tear me limb from limb. Looking at him gave me such a strong case of the jitters I put the tapestry back and practically ran home to you, so... so I could feel... safe." He carefully replaced the whiskey in the cabinet. "I haven't felt this scared since I was a kit. I've been raised with logic for so long that sometimes magic is... well frightening." He looked into Sapphire's eyes and smiled weakly. "Present company excepted." The blue-furred vixen reached out and wrapped her arms tightly around Victor, pulling herself in against him and resting her head against his fur. She could feel the shivers of fear coursing through his body. "Don't be afraid, darling. No danger can reach you here, not with me guarding the door." The heat from her body quickly warmed Victor and the tremors faded. He wrapped his own arms around her. The two moved together to the couch and sat down, content to gain strength just from the simple contact. They quietly held each other for several long minutes before the todd looked down at his mate. "Are there any other djinn who could be bringing the tapestry figures to life?" "No one has to," she replied softly. "They're already alive." Victor pulled back from her in surprise. "Alive? How...?" "The tapestry has always been more than it appeared," Sapphire said. "It is a prison for the last two great magicians of your world, Kurok of Persia and his wife, Cypriana." The todd shook his head. "Never heard of them." His mate chuckled softly. "Fame does not always accompany greatness. They were not only powerful mages, but masters of stealth and guile as well. They used their powers to gently push a war one-way, or tip a dynasty another, all in favor of their own interests. Their subtlety was as much a threat as their enchantments." "Something of a cross between Merlin and Machiavelli?" Victor offered. She chuckled once more. "If only... They would have been a lot easier to handle if that were true." "You've faced them before?" Sapphire nodded. "I'm the one who trapped them in the tapestry." "How?" Memories flooded her mind, unbidden and unwanted. She had always been able to ignore them before by telling herself it was her master's wish. She was a slave of the lamp, with no free will of her own other than what her master granted. It was a very convenient lie and she knew it. The vixen looked down and her ears dipped slightly. "I'd... rather not say." The Zorr saw the shame that washed across her as she curled in on herself. She'd lived many lifetimes and undoubtedly had done things that proper people might disapprove of... but sitting in judgment over another was not in his nature. Especially when that other was his chosen mate. Victor gently lifted her chin so she was once more looking at him. "I love you... You're as much a part of me as the air I breathe. I love you for who you are, here and now. The past is the past. You don't have to be afraid I'll ever love you less than I do at this moment." He bent his neck and kissed her firmly on the lips, holding her to him for several long minutes. When they finally pulled apart there were tears glistening in her eyes. "It took almost twenty-eight hundred years for me to find someone like you," she whispered, smiling as she dabbed the sleeve of her robe on her eyes. "The wait was worth it." They kissed again then simply held each other close until Sapphire broke the silence. "I will have to do something about the tapestry," she muttered thoughtfully, "before Kurok and Cypriana are completely free of its influence." Victor looked down at her. "Are they truly so dangerous?" "Yes," the vixen replied. "Their escape would mean death for millions of people, human and zorr alike." "How?" whispered the todd, an icy cold sensation spreading through the pit of his stomach. The vixen pressed two fingers gently against his lips. The icy feeling within him suddenly faded in a warm glow. "It all happened a long, long time ago," she started. "It was a time when many of the creatures you consider mythical really existed; dragons, unicorns, gryphons just to name a few. There were dozens of different species and thousands upon thousands of individual creatures." "If that's true, where are they now? Why can't we find evidence they ever lived? "A few still exist to this day. They use enchantments to remain hidden from the modern world. Most died off shortly after mankind learned how use magic." "Why?" Sapphire took a deep breath. "Humankind had a bad teacher." She looked deeply into Victor's eyes. He could see that all the playfulness had left her face. "You've heard the myth of Prometheus?" The Zorr nodded. "Well, there's more truth to that story than you think. The major difference is that it wasn't fire he brought to mankind, it was magic." "Fire was a metaphor then." "Yes," she replied. "Many of the ancient gods disliked or outright despised man. Prometheus was one. He gave them magic in the hopes they would use it to destroy themselves." "I take it his plan didn't work." She shook her head. "It was worse than that. Man was the first mortal creature to learn magic. Being mortal, he understood death better than of the other magical races. Their magic, being innate, gave them virtual immortality." "Like the Djin?" the todd asked. She nodded. "He used that knowledge to pervert Prometheus' gift, creating a whole new type of enchantment... Necromancy." "Magic drawn from death," Victor mumbled. "But why would he choose such a dark path?" "It was easier to master than the 'life' magic I use. I've discovered over the centuries that as a species, men tend to take the path of least resistance." "You mentioned that many mythical creatures disappeared after mankind began using magic. What happened?" "A few of the most powerful necromancers began to think of themselves as gods. However, to be a god you must have power. So, after killing or subduing any other humans capable of offering resistance, they started to gather large amounts of magical energy. In the process, they hunted and killed most of the mythical beings with whom they shared this world." "Genocide seems to be a habit among humans," Victor replied sadly, dropping his head.. Sapphire placed her hand under his chin and gently lifted his head, smiling softly. "No... not as a rule. It's only prevalent among those mad with the lust for power. Unfortunately, such men seem to draw to them others of the same ilk. They then use fear to generate hate, and hate to draw the weak minded to their cause. The true evil lies within these mad leaders and their desire for power in any form. Left unto themselves, the majority of mankind would prefer to live and let live. His greatest nobility is that he can and often does rise above these lesser instincts to fight back against the dark. In more than ten thousand years, man has never truly given up hoping and struggling for enlightenment." "So what happened to these first necromancers?" "They eventually turned on each other, destroying themselves and the civilization they had created." "Civilization?" The vixen nodded. "You would know them as Atlantian." Victor's eyes widened in surprise. "You mean the Minoan civilization actually had magic." Sapphire playfully wound a finger through the Zorr's hair. "That's what I love about scholars. What is myth to most of the world is merely a puzzle waiting to be unraveled; a hidden truth searching for someone to uncover it." Her eyes saddened. "Yes, they had magic, and they destroyed themselves with it, just as Prometheus had hoped. The human mages warred against each other and in their foolishness they brought the volcano Thera to life." "If all the mages were destroyed by Thera, then how can Kurok and Cypriana be a threat?" "Not all mages," Sapphire corrected him, "only the necromancers. Life magic continued beyond the fall of Atlantis, excuse me, Minoa; necromancy did not. Unfortunately, sometime around the seventh century Kurok and Cypriana discovered an ancient parchment that revealed to them the secrets of these black arts." "So if they free themselves, they will kill in order to draw power to themselves." The vixen nodded. "That is why I must confront them... while they are still weak. I must go to the museum tonight and reweave the spell which traps them." "No!" said Victor, taking her hand firmly in his. "You're not going. WE are!" To be continued