CHAPTER 1: LAW OF WORLD VIEWS

"You participate in creating the world by perceiving it."

Present Day—Tom's POV

Tom Swale wasn't fully awake yet, as anyone living in New York long enough couldn't be without caffeine, but at least he managed not to trip on the stairs as he made his way down.

He was tired. It was Saturday morning after all, the one day he and Carl were permitted to sleep in…

Ding dong.

…not that the Universe would necessarily allow it.

Tom sighed. As a Senior Wizard he was supposed to be used to round the clock visitors—just not necessarily ones who used the front door. He tried not to wince at the quick succession of knocks that followed.

Tom peered through the peephole to find an extremely nervous looking Nita Callahan on the other side. Confused—though an untimely visitation from one of his charges wasn't unheard of—he opened the door.

A squirming, panting, overly-excited ball of fur was promptly thrust into his arms.

"Dudley?" Tom asked incredulously, nearly dropping the wriggling rat terrier in surprise. This didn't deter the pup from proceeding with his duty to wash Tom's face.

Needless to say he was awake now, a saving grace as two white and gray streaks raced past him—nearly knocking him over in the process—skidded down the hallway, and enthusiastically bounded up the flight of stairs, taking two or three at a time.

A few seconds later he heard two simultaneous thunks and a half-cursing "Ngghh!" (™ Carl Romeo). He could picture it perfectly: their sheepdogs, Annie and Monty, leaping gleefully onto the bed—and Carl himself.

Nita grinned up at him in weary amusement, "Missing something?"

Yes, in fact, something had been missing, he mused. When he'd woken he'd vaguely thought he had had far too much room to move around in, the twin weights on the bed's end and the slighter weight on the pillows—not to mention the morning whines for breakfast and walks—had all been noticeably absent.

"Now that you mention it, I thought things were a bit too peaceful around here. Care to explain?" Tom kept his tone friendly and inviting.

Nonetheless, Nita hesitated. "It might take some time, I'm not sure I understand it myself—"

"Then come on in, it's freezing out there. Have you had breakfast?" Yawning and shaking her head 'no', Nita entered, handing Tom her jacket and scarf.

He set Dudley down, unwrapped him from the blanket he'd been carried in, and let the tiny terrier rush off to join the other two dogs.

Tom watched him go, then proceeded to lead her back into the kitchen area, shooting Nita a pained look while thinking: Should I even ask what your father had to say about this?

Instead of voicing that thought aloud though, or through mind-speak, Tom started with another, easier question, "Would you like something to start with? Coffee maybe? Or, wait, you wouldn't like that would you…"

"I've tried coffee before. Tastes like chalk." Nita made a face. "I don't even like the frappuccinos with all the caramel stuff in it. Kit's crazy 'bout them though."

Tom chuckled, "It's an acquired taste. How about tea or hot chocolate? Either of those sound any better?"

Nita perked up, "Hot chocolate would be fine."

He rummaged through cupboards before surfacing with two small packets—one for hot chocolate, one for peppermint tea. Then he put a kettle full of water on the stove and pressed a button to start the coffee machine. "I'm not fond of too much coffee myself, unless it has a lot of cream or sugar in it, but for Carl it's his life's source. Black and scalding hot, every morning. Trust me, you don't want to meet him on a day he hasn't had his coffee..."

They heard the soft thumping of paws echoing off the wood flooring and both turned in time to see the dog pack—or the "Three Stooges" as Carl liked to call them—wander in with only one question on their minds…

Tom sighed in resignation. "Excuse me for a minute."

A while later—after the dogs were fed and happily napping beneath the table—Tom looked over to where Nita sat blowing on her cocoa.

"So…?" He prodded gently from where he leaned against the counter's edge, mint tea in hand.

On a whim, she reached down to rub behind Annie's ears, the dog in turn gazed up at her encouragingly; both of them appeared exhausted.

Tom, noting the exchange, looked between the pair. "Which one of you should I ask?"

"Tom—" she hesitated. "We've known each other for a while now, right? And we're friends too, not just Wizards?"

"Of course Nita," he said carefully.

"Then can I ask you something? Something personal?"

Tom nodded, giving her his full attention, "Go ahead."

"What was your Ordeal like?"

Silence passed, unbroken for several minutes, until Tom turned away, murmuring, "That is personal, isn't it?"

Nita's embarrassment was evident.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized, blushing fiercely, "I wasn't the one who wanted to ask— I was told to."

"By who?"

Nita looked deliberately under the table.

He sighed. "I guess this is going to take some telling, the beginning's as good a place as any to start..."

Nita took a deep breath. "Well, I was asleep and I was exploring a part of Time Heart—kind of a Time Heart within a Time Heart really. Dairine was looking for Roshaun there. She didn't find him." She stopped as Tom nodded at the implications of what that meant, then started again. "Next I was back in the Commorancy—the one we told you about, where the Hesper was born. I talked to the Lone Power and then to the peridexis—you know, the soul of the Manual..." She trailed off, not all Wizards knew of the peridexis or could even acknowledge its existence.

Tom waved away her concerns. "I've talked to it many times myself. Always interesting conversations those and well worth remembering. And I understand why you're keeping this short Nita, nothing's more private than what goes on in dreams, especially the dreams of others as the case well may be. I know this must be hard for you to share, but if I am to help you..."

Nita shook her head. "Everything important starts after that, I just needed you to know where I was."

"I understand, go on."

"Well, I was back in my dream and ready to release control, get some proper rest. But then this golden Door appeared... I know I shouldn't have opened it, Tom, but it was just so entrancing and...and...

"As soon as I entered though I knew I was in trouble. I found myself in a place that wasn't a place and... it definitely wasn't lucid dreaming anymore Tom. Even though I was aware of everything, I had no control whatsoever. I knew it was a dream and all, but for some reason that wasn't very reassuring. In fact it was terrifying..."

Nita paused to consider her next words. "This world, or place, or plane—whatever—was indefinite. That's the best word for it...and I mean extremely indefinite. Like, I've never had that loose a grip on reality anywhere.

"I called out for Kit—or tried to—not with my voice, cause I didn't have one, but with my thoughts maybe? Then I tried for Dairine, for you, for Carl, for dad, for anyone. All it did was echo back at me. I felt like I was completely cut off from the human race, or from any race for that matter, and that wasn't a good feeling..."

Tom's outlook was grim but that was only because he knew...

He knew...

But it wasn't possible that she was there...

...was it?

Tom leaned back with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. I don't know how to describe this to her. I don't even know if I can describe it—or if I could, if I'd be allowed to do so...

Or if I could, would I?

Nita had stopped talking when she realized that he wasn't paying attention to her anymore. An awkward moment passed between them as words failed Tom.

"I turned around and there was Ponch, waiting for me, wherever 'there' was." Nita said at last softly, sadly. It didn't seem like him though, or at least not how I remember him. And he called himself something else too—no, that's not right, he's known by something else now. Aethelwulf." She whispered the name, as if scared to say it aloud—at least in this world.

Tom sighed, thinking hard before finally assenting, "The Dreamscape. Accessible to all of Creation on only a Subconscious level—apart from dogs who can go there at will. But for the rest of us, that means only in dreams. During that time we have to be protected from our dreams and the Dreamscape has to be protected from us. Dogs are those Protectors—the chosen Guardians of the Dreamscape."

He smiled down briefly at Monty, whose feet were twitching as though running in his sleep, and then frowned. "He's not necessarily dreaming of chasing down rabbits when he's doing that."

He looked up to find Nita studying him with a rather closed expression. "Why didn't you tell us before?" she said.

Tom blinked. "Excuse me?"

"When Kit asked where dogs go, why didn't you tell us the truth? Why didn't Ponch tell us?"

He sighed, "Aside from two people I know of—and now you—nobody really does know. Sorry, no humans do or any extraterrestrials that I've found for that matter." Tom sipped at his tea, looking anywhere but at her. When their eyes did meet though, his were stern. "And if anyone does know anything they keep quiet. They don't talk about it. It's not a place meant for humans—or any other beings for that matter—and Ponch knew that.

"Listen Nita, in Wizardry you usually try to find out about as much of the known universe, or anywhere else you're in, as soon as possible. Then with such Knowledge you can have a margin of power over it. Well, there's a reason that this place isn't known. You won't find it in your Manual, Nita. And what I tell you isn't to leave this room. No exceptions. I don't care how Senior the Wizard ranks or how high a Power That Be demands it or what the circumstances are, you're not to tell a soul—and that includes Kit, your father, Dairine, Ronan, Sker'ret, Filif, or anyone else, understood? I want your word on your Oath as a Wizard."

He had her trapped. It was the most sacred of promises. It was also a matter of the highest trust. To break it in any way, shape, or form, meant not only consequences for her: she'd lose her Wizardry and the secret, maybe even her Life in extreme circumstances, but the person she made the vow with would lose all that as well—and perhaps more.

For a moment more she hesitated and Tom, sensing that she wanted to say no, leaned forwards uncompromisingly, his demeanor serious. Finally she nods once. "In Life's Name and for Life's Sake, in remembrance of Time's Heart, on my Wizardry so I am sworn." She spoke it slowly in the Speech, not happy about it.

"I accept. Thank you," Tom said in the same Language and relaxed a bit, drumming his fingers against the table as the pledge rooted itself into reality. Only then did he begin, "The Dreamscape is the Home of the Soul. It's the reason that dogs exist in the first place, in fact it is part of their Oath: to defend the hearts and minds of all. It's their domain and theirs alone. Nita, their task is not an easy one, nor one to be taken lightly.

"Listen closely now. What the dogs truly protect is our Subconscious. Our Subconscious is where our Wizardry and all Knowledge thereof comes from. It has to agree to our becoming Wizards before we're even consciously asked. Heck, it has to agree to Life before we're even born."

Tom gazed at her unwaveringly, willing her to process this. "Should anything happen to the Subconscious it would affect us all... not just Wizards. We are, after all, connected on the most basic of levels as One and together we would be lost forever. Like a fabric being unraveled by the loss of a single thread. Now, I'm not talking about the kind of loss like 'death' and then there's still Time Heart left over... No, I'm talking about the cessation of our existence. The extinction of our souls. Because that's what the Subconscious is... the principal portion of the soul. Creation cannot exist without that."

Nita swallowed hard.

"Unsurprisingly, if dogs want to protect us then they have to protect that. And, in my opinion, that's why they got the job. Absolute loyalty and devotion. The definition of unconditional love. No one else could have been entrusted with such responsibilities.

"'God', 'Dog', how appropriate," Tom chuckled, at last breaking the intensity that had Nita rooted to the spot. "And as for Aethelwulf, well, that's just one of Ponch's many names now… it always has been a part of him."

"How do you know all this?" Nita demanded. "I mean—if no one really knows—then who told you?"

"Nita, I apologize, but my Ordeal is not something I wish to revisit with you." Tom's reply was strained but firm.

"Sorry," she mumbled, chastised, and Tom momentarily wondered if he had ever talked down at her before. She was not a child, not any more, he reminded himself sadly.

Tom quieted, briefly in a world of his own, before he cleared his throat and straightened. "So now that you understand all that..."

"I'm not so sure I do."

Tom smiled grimly, "Neither do I, but let's press on. What happened there?"

Nita frowned. "I'm not...the details are rather fuzzy..." She looked to Tom.

"They'll get clearer with time." Tom said knowingly. "What I want to know is how did the subject of my Ordeal come up?"

"I don't know... I remember Ponch telling me things but I don't remember it all…"

"Yes, you do," Tom said softly. "Or at least your Subconscious does. Your conscious self will remember soon too. Not now maybe, but in time."

Nita didn't seem to be too thrilled about this. "He 'said' a lot of things to me. He said he brought me there for one." She started counting the points off on her fingers. "That something wasn't finished. He said that something wasn't right in the World…"

"Which 'world,' his or ours? Think, Nita, this is important. It's the reason I've told you this narrative."

"I don't know," she replied honestly. "I'm sorry Tom."

"That's okay honey," he said, immediately regretting his tone. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, silently admonishing himself. "Not your fault. Keep going."

"He said that the Order was in danger, I remember that specifically—what was he talking about Tom?"

"There could be so many answers to that Nita I wouldn't know where to start."

"Well, he said you'd have the answer." Nita finished softly. "That your Ordeal was the answer."

"What?!" exclaimed a strangled and entirely different voice.

Tom glanced up at the source hurriedly, nearly spilling tea in his now shaking hands. He dropped the cup to the counter's surface hard with a suppressed a curse.

His partner stood there in the doorway, hair wet from a shower, lips locked behind tight white lines. Nita realized with trepidation that when they'd told her that the universe was likely to be swallowed up by the black matter of the Pullulus, Carl hadn't been this upset.

"Now Carl…Carl, take it easy…Carl! Calm down!" Tom hissed.

But Carl wouldn't have any of it. A second more and he was at Nita's side, staring her down hard enough to make her squeak.

"What is all this about his Ordeal?" Carl's voice was cool and deceivingly collected. Nita shrank away from him.

Carl! Tom mind-snapped at him, Stop it, you're scaring her!

Carl hesitated then withdrew, blinking a few times in uncertainty at Nita. "Nita, sweetheart, I—" he backed down completely, pulling a chair away from the kitchen table, and gradually sitting down, shooting Tom a questioning side-glance.

"I'm sorry." Folding his hands in front of him, he turned his gaze to Nita.

"Any mention of our Ordeal makes me nervous," Carl explained slowly. "Know why?"

Nita shook her head, still watching Carl apprehensively.

"Because until we met you, neither of us remembered what our Ordeal was."

There was a brief uncomfortable silence as Tom poured Carl his coffee.

"I—I don't understand." Nita stammered.

"That makes two of us. Thanks," Carl said as Tom handed him the steaming mug and sat beside him.

I told you he was scary without his coffee. Nita jumped at the thought directed at her, and then tentatively smiled with Tom's accompanying wink.

Carl swirled the hot liquid, examining the depths pensively.

"Actually Nita, that's not entirely accurate. Before we met you, Tom here was the only one between us who actually remembered anything of the Ordeal. For the longest time, I didn't know what had happened; I didn't want to know what had happened. But neither of us knew what it meant—until we met you."

"Nita," Tom interrupted briskly, effectively redirecting the conversation, "Fascinating as all this is, it doesn't quite cover how our dogs got to be with you."

"Oh, um, yeah. Well…" She looked at the dogs dozing at her feet. "After Ponch was finished with me, and I don't know how long that took..."

"Most likely time wasn't a factor."

"...uh-huh. Anyway, Annie and Monty came to 'get me.'" She gestured to the sheepdogs. "They said they 'found me.'" Tom smiled weakly at that while Carl rolled his eyes. "That they were there to bring me home. And then I woke up, and they were on my bed, licking me and scolding me 'for going.' And Dairine was there too. She said I'd been making a lot of noise throughout the whole thing, like I was having a nightmare. She would've woken me up except that Dudley here," she patted the terrier who was sound asleep on her lap, "was there too and he wouldn't let her. He actually bit Dairine."

Both Tom and Carl's eyebrows rose at that. They exchanged incredulous glances.

"You're lucky you didn't get your tail singed," Carl addressed the pup, who just yawned in response.

"Oh, not hard enough to break the skin or anything, just a warning nip. He explained later on the walk home he had to do it; that if she'd waken me up while I was gone, Monty and Annie wouldn't have been able to bring me back."

"That's true enough," Tom reflected thoughtfully. "Would've probably left you in a catatonic state— like many coma patients, your consciousness would've been permanently severed and unable to return to your body..." He cleared his throat briskly.

"It's not in the Manual you know," Nita began again after a long pause. "Your Ordeal, I couldn't find anything."

"Well, that's because our Ordeal isn't recorded anywhere that anyone could read." Tom said, "Not within the Manual, not even within the pages of The Book of Night with Moon. And none of the Powers—save the Lone Power, the One's Champion, and the One—know of it either because…"

"Because in reality it never happened," Carl finished for him with a wry look, "The only proof we have of our Ordeal is that this Universe still exists—and there are human Wizards in it."

"I'm glad you've done your research though." Tom gave a pleased smile. He got up from his chair and picked up his tea, motioning with his free hand for the others to follow his lead. "Now, before we go on any further, how about we adjourn to the living room? Our couches are probably more comfortable than these wooden chairs. And this will most likely take a while."

"Why don't you tell anyone about your Ordeal?" Nita asked as they made their way to the den.

Carl looked to Tom, Tom looked to Carl, and they both shrugged.

"Well, you see, it's sort of personal…"

"We know it'll probably come out sooner or later, hopefully once we're gone…" Carl added.

"But until then, the human race as it stands probably isn't willing to face what it took to save it." Tom sighed regretfully. "You'd be surprised how much bigotry still remains Nita, even in the Wizarding world. Things are fine when it concerns other species, but sometimes…"

"I don't think we need to go there just yet," Carl stopped him. "Let's just tell Nita the story and see what she decides. Come on Tom, we can trust her. Who knows," he turned to Nita, "your reaction might just change our minds about this."

They were silent for a time as everyone took a seat, Nita in the recliner and Tom and Carl on the couch.

At last Carl asked, "Remember when I told you, Nita, that there was no higher payment than Lifeprice except one?"

Nita shivered. She did remember, she remembered almost everything about her time with the whales. It had been one of the most thrilling and terrifying experiences of her life. It was the first time she had truly thought she was going to die. She remembered every word:

'"All it said was that you were going to have to pay back the exact amount of energy used up at some future date. And it must have been a very great amount, to require Lifeprice to be paid. There's no higher payment that can be made." Carl had fallen silent for a moment, then said, "Well, one." And his face had shut as if a door had closed behind his eyes.'

"Our realization began with this…" Tom, who had called his Manual to him, slid it over to her across the coffee table with a page already open. Carl's Manual soon dropped out of thin air, landing on the same page.

Both their Manuals, in identically bold, enthusiastic lettering, read the following:

Greetings and Congratulations, welcome to your newest status as Senior Wizards!

"It's your acceptance letters," Nita murmured to herself.

Carl answered her. "Yep, came the same day as you, Kit, and Fred did—shortly after you arrived in fact. No coincidence there."

As with any promotion, there is an Ordeal to pass, to make certain you are the right Wizard for the job. As a Senior you will be highly depended upon and, as more and more knowledge becomes known to you, the peril to your Life will increase exponentially. As a result, so will the power available to you. As a Senior, you will not specialize too seriously in one aspect of Wizardry, but in all aspects of it, thus—

There wasn't anything too bad that she could tell—mostly precautions and fore-warnings against the occupation, along with preliminary suggestions for determining aptitude. It seemed pretty standard issue for any Wizarding level promotion.

"I don't understand," she finally admitted after reading the whole thing through a few times.

Tom, face slightly pale, pointed to one line:

Naturally, your Ordeal for becoming a Senior Wizard will be based off the Ordeal you initially passed to become a Wizard…

"That's where our trouble started," he confirmed.

Carl stiffened visibly.

Tom, careful to not let Nita overhear, thought at him firmly I'm here.

Outwardly, Carl didn't react more than a nod, but inside all he could think back was: Thank the Powers.

Tom refrained from pointing out that the Powers didn't have much to do with it.

Carl cleared his throat, pulling his mind away from Tom's reluctantly. "I wanted to tell them no," he said to Nita when she looked up. "They couldn't force us to be Seniors; power doesn't live in the unwilling heart, remember? And at the time, we were unwilling—or at least I was—but Tom convinced me otherwise.

"He said you needed us to be willing—you and Kit and Fred. And he was right. With The Book of Night with Moon, if you had needed our help, if you couldn't handle it—and we had no indications that you could—we weren't on the level to do anything with our current Wizarding status. I think your exact words, Tom, were 'we're needed, Carl, if not at this moment, then soon—very soon—and knowing what's at stake, how can we say no?'"

Tom snorted, "And you know what his response was? And I quote, 'like this—no! No, no, NO!'"

"I couldn't lose you again," Carl justified, slightly hurt.

"Again?" Nita asked, "What do you mean, 'again'?"

She paused, waited, and continued on when no one answered immediately. "Tom, Carl, what happened on your Ordeals?"

Tom and Carl shared a meaningful glance, holding each other's gaze steadily. Both looked like they were struggling over the matter and Nita felt the reality around them shift in unease. Annie barked, annoyed, and they appeared to snap out of it.

Tom took a last, deep, unsteady gulp from his tea. He studied the empty cup shakily, as if he'd never look up again. "Now this calls for coffee."

Nita giggled slightly at that.

"I'll get it," Carl volunteered, grabbing the mug, "Tom, you go ahead and start."

"If I must," Tom led off uneasily. "Like I said, it all began shortly after you left Nita..."