Chapter 13: Surprise at Nikeah ------------------------------ As the Waverider slowly approached Nikeah, Alcan peered through the fog, trying to make out the town. The visibility did not improve, however, and even after the better part of an hour, he still could not see more than a few dark shapes which might be buildings. Aside from an occasional comment about the lousy weather or Locke's condition, Alcan and Driel did not converse during that time. For one thing, the weather did not promote a conversational mood. However, Alcan still felt a bit uncomfortable talking to her. She had done nothing to hurt him - she had only tried to sympathize with his loss - yet he had yelled at her. /I have got to learn to control my temper!/ he told himself firmly. This was not his first such outburst, either. His family had been a sensitive subject with him even before his father's death, and was much more so afterwards; even among friends, if someone tried to probe too deeply, he would often lose his temper. /I will not do so again,/ he promised himself. /It is not others' fault that my family is dead./ Although there was one specific "other" who *was* at fault, of course. Finally, Alcan tired of watching the fog-shrouded town approach, and said to Driel, "I'm going to go check on Locke." "Alright," she replied. Alcan left Driel at the wheel and headed for the crew cabin. Reaching it, he opened the door and stepped inside. The room was the same as it had been: bare, except for Locke sleeping on the cot in the corner. Alcan walked quietly over to Locke. Gently placing his hand on Locke's forehead, he noted that Locke was still feverish. His eyes moved as if he was in a dream. Alcan was still magically exhausted from the powerful bolt of lightning he had used against the creatures in Jidoor two days earlier. But maybe he could do something minor to help Locke; he did not have nearly enough magical strength at the moment to cure whatever this disease was, but if he could just - Then Alcan's train of thought was interrupted by a noise from Locke. Surprised, Alcan watched Locke for any sign that he might be about to recover even the tiniest bit. "Treasure hunter..." Locke murmured, and the ghost of a smile flitted across his lips. "That's what I'm going to be. The world's greatest treasure hunter..." Locke fell silent again, and Alcan sighed. Just another vivid image in whatever Locke was dreaming about. Returning to his thoughts, Alcan decided to try a curing spell on Locke. At worst, nothing would happen, and Alcan would have wasted some of his currently little magical power. But at best... perhaps Locke would awaken and begin the road to recovery. Locke certainly seemed like he would be nearly strong enough to recover on his own... if he could be brought out of this sleep. Concentrating, Alcan drew on magical energy - a small amount, but most of what he could handle at the moment. He shaped it into a curative spell, then sent it coursing through Locke's body. Nothing. Locke remained in as deep a sleep as ever. Alcan sighed again. /Well, it was worth a try, at least./ He left Locke's side, heading out of the crew cabin and back onto the deck of the Waverider. When he emerged, he saw Driel still standing by the wheel, staring toward Nikeah. As he walked up beside her, she said softly, "Something is very wrong..." Alcan did not respond, but stared out toward Nikeah along with Driel. And then he felt it, the "something wrong" that Driel had been talking about. Not evil, exactly. Certainly not good, but not evil either, at least not in the way Rhiannon or whatever controlled him had been evil. Just... wrong. And, he realized a moment later, magical. He said as much to Driel. She nodded, as if confirming her own suspicions. "But who? Not Rhiannon, that's certain. And why?" Another couple of hours passed in near silence, broken only by the sounds of the water and an occasional lone bird call above. Then, as they approached the harbor, there was a sudden break in the fog, and Nikeah became clearly visible ahead. Alcan and Driel gasped simultaneously, shocked at the picture of a half-destroyed town. "Edgar?" Alcan said after a moment, mentally discounting the possibility even as he suggested it. Edgar would have left almost a trail of evil, if he was as evil as Banon and the Returners had said. "No," Driel responded, echoing his thoughts. "He's at least as bad as Rhiannon. You'd know if he was here." Several more minutes passed. As the Waverider entered the harbor, the movements of people in the town became visible. Then Driel's hands dropped from the wheel as she stared toward the town again, astonished. "What is it?" Alcan asked her. "The people - look -" She pointed toward the town. "- it's almost as if they didn't realize the town was falling apart around them. They look like they're just going about their daily lives." Alcan followed her gaze, then gasped in renewed shock. /There's only one person who can control people's minds like that. But Ludek doesn't use magic./ "But how... who else could have... controlled them like this?" he finished aloud. "I don't know," said Driel. "And I don't like it." She paused a moment, then added, "You've seen this before?" "Yes," Alcan replied. "Back in Drellost, Ludek did it to everyone. Remember when I mentioned that right after my father's death, people were suddenly forgetting him?" Driel nodded. "Ludek was responsible for that. And in a couple of towns, the people were exactly like that." He pointed at the citizens of Nikeah. "Totally oblivious to their circumstances." "You don't think that Ludek might -" Driel started. "- be here?" Alcan finished for her. "No. For one thing, Ludek doesn't use magic. He uses technology. Besides, if he was here, he'd be going after me, not random towns. We'd better be careful anyway, though." A few minutes later, they reached the dock, and, under Driel's direction, Alcan helped secure the ship to the dock. Then they disembarked, Alcan with his sword and Driel with the knife she had given to Locke earlier, to see what lay in store for them at Nikeah.