Beyond the Wall of Time (18 page)

“This is foolishness.” The priest made little effort to hide his anger; Duon could only hope he’d disciplined his mind. “We
ought to wait for the voice to make a mistake. He can’t keep us all under control all of the time.”

“He’s managed so far.”

“We’re wasting time,” Arathé signed, and picked up the sticks. She held out her arm, her hand masking the true length of the
stick. Though one was far shorter than the other two, all appeared to be the same length. “Time to choose.”

“I choose not to participate.”

“Then, priest, you are the volunteer.”

No need for a comment; his face made his response clear.

Arathé pulled out one of the sticks, about the length of her longest finger, then cast it into the fire. “Cold tonight,” she
said aloud, though Duon had just been thinking how warm the night was.

“Long,” she added.

“One chance in two then,” Conal said. He took a stick, groaned, and hurled it into the flames.

“Short,” Arathé said unnecessarily.

“I’m not doing this!’ Conal cried aloud.

“You have to,” Duon signalled urgently, not able to mask his thoughts. “Jump or we’ll push you!’

What is this?

The dirty little Falthan is insulting us
, Duon said, aiming a reckless swing at the whey-faced Conal.
After all we’ve been through. I’m going to knock his head off.

He charged at the priest, taking him in the midriff. The man gave a tiny squeak of fear, then bellowed as they hit the ground.
Their momentum took them a few paces further.

A pace too far.

Looks like I drew the short straw too
, Duon thought as blackness opened up below him. The two men went over the bluff together.

The back of Duon’s head seemed to explode with light and heat. Magic snatched roughly at his falling body. His limbs stiffened,
relaxed, then stiffened again. The voice in his mind screamed in pain and fury. Just before he hit the ground, Duon heard
a dull thud. Then the world flashed white and he vanished into it.

Lenares had no idea what time of the night it was. The wind howled around them like a vengeful mother trying to destroy the
killer of her children. At least that’s what it felt like to Lenares, who wondered at one point whether the Padouki had conjured
up the storm. For storm it was; the gods were bringing something catastrophic towards them, a greatly enlarged hole in the
world wrapped in cloud, wind and rain.

While the night was blacker than the insides of her eyelids, she didn’t need sight to be able to see the hole drawing nearer.
The slowly rotating circle, still many leagues out to sea, had ripped a hole clear through her comforting pattern of numbers.
The red tinge of wrongness impressed itself straight onto her brain, bringing with it nausea, constant shaking and a fear
such as she’d never known.

“This will be very bad,” she told Stella, who, along with the rest of the travellers, had given up trying to sleep. They stood
or sat in small groups in various places around the campsite, mostly near the remains of the fire, which the wind had extinguished
some time ago.

“Are we in serious danger?”

“Yes. It’s coming directly towards us.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Stella asked Heredrew.

You should be asking me
, Lenares thought but didn’t say.

“Not much against such a storm,” he answered. “Deflect the wind a little, strengthen any shelter we construct or take refuge
in, fend off any debris the wind blows at us and keep ourselves dry, that’s all.”

“It might be enough.”

“What would be better’n any ’mount of magical protection would be t’ move further inland,” said Seren the miner, having to
raise his voice against the wind. “These storms aren’t common this far south, but we’ve seen them burst against the coast
and arrive at Eisarn as little more’n heavy rain. A big storm’ll take plenty o’ lives on the coast. Further away we are, the
better.”

“Surely it would not be safe back in the forest,” Moralye said. “The wind would break branches and throw them down upon us.”

“Break branches and uproot trees,” Robal said. “A dangerous place to be. But better the forest than the coast. I feel sorry
for those trapped in the path of the storm.”

Lenares wondered if Robal was thinking of his friends Kilfor and Sauxa.

Kannwar—Lenares supposed she ought to think of him as the Emperor of Bhrudwo and not as the make-believe Falthan sorcerer—was
plainly unhappy. “Have any of you experienced a Mala Gulf typhoon?” he asked, beckoning them all close.

The travellers shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders.

“We’re not safe here,” he said. “Especially if the typhoon is unnatural and aimed at us. But I have a million people to worry
about, all living on the shore of the Mala Gulf. If we remain here we will lure the typhoon across a heavily populated part
of the Gulf. These are my subjects: I cannot ignore them. I suggest we head south as swiftly as we can, dragging the storm
away from the cities of Malayu and Doma.”

“There is no ‘if,’ ” Lenares said. “You must not doubt me. The hole in the world is coming to eat us up.”

“We cannot neglect the people in the storm’s path,” said Stella. What little of her face Lenares could see appeared care-worn.
“The cosmographer tells us that every unnatural death enlarges the hole. How large will the hole be after a million deaths?
We ought to do as Here—as Kannwar asks us, not only for the sake of the people who might otherwise die, but for our sakes
and everyone’s.”

“Aye,” Seren said. “And bring it down instead on Raceme an’ the countries of Old Roudhos. Haven’t they suffered enough?”

Kannwar growled deep in his throat. “There are no easy choices. But whatever we do we ought to do swiftly.”

“Are you our self-appointed leader, Destroyer?” Robal asked, bristling.

“If anyone leads us, it is Stella,” came the impatient reply.

“Because I won’t follow you. You say you’re following the orders of the Most High. Fair enough, I can’t prove you wrong, and
if you and Stella are to be believed he did turn up and help kill the Elamaq Emperor. But where is the Most High now? Surely
he could use his power to deflect the storm? Why should we follow you when we could be following him?”

“We can have this debate on the journey south,” Kannwar said. “Every step we take away from the Mala Gulf will save lives.
Should we not be on our way?”

Lenares wished people would ask the most important questions rather than always getting themselves diverted. “Where are we
going? I know you said ‘south,’ but we should confront the gods. We had a chance in the House of the Gods but didn’t take
it.”

“Oh? Who was it let the Daughter escape?”

Cruel Kannwar, not knowing she’d had no choice. Her face reddened, and she thanked the darkness that prevented the others
seeing her discomfort.

“I thought she would help me. I made a bad mistake. But the Father should have done more. He should have killed the Son and
the Daughter. Or is he not strong enough?”

“I don’t know how strong he is,” Kannwar said. “But he is reluctant. Please, this is another issue best kept for discussion
after we leave this place. As for where we should go, we need to find somewhere as far away from other people as we can, accessible
within as short a time as possible. The key is to keep the gods from killing people and enlarging the breach in the Wall of
Time. The House of the Gods would be ideal, but I doubt we can lure the gods back there. So south to start with, at least.”

Seren spoke. “You want somewhere both isolated an’ reasonably close? I think I know just the place.”

Duon opened his eyes to darkness, noise and pain. Groaning, shrieking, cursing and sobbing filled his ears as he struggled
to see anything in the blackness around him. The void beyond the world? Surely he was dead and in the realm of lost souls,
just reward for his mistakes and his cowardice. But no, his nose told him he was still in the land of the Padouki, unless
lost souls smelled of sap and leaf mould.

As for the sounds, Duon realised the groaning was coming from himself.

Still alive then.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the back of his head. He could sense something… it was different from the spike through
which Husk had tormented him… Now he focused on it, the sound of shrieking grew louder. It sounded like wind in the trees—it
was wind in the trees—but it was also Husk, screaming in agony. Sweet, sweet music.

Gradually the music faded away into silence and darkness.

When next Duon came to, someone was speaking.
He couldn’t hold us all
, came the voice, a beautiful voice that brought tears to his eyes, the voice of an angel.
He spread himself too thin trying to keep us alive. He believes he should have let us all fall to our deaths. He regrets it
now.

Arathé? Is that your voice?

Yes, Duon. The connections Husk made seem to work still, even though he no longer sustains them.

It worked then?

Perfectly, it seems.
The joy sparkled in her voice.

You sound beautiful, like a god. Did you die? Are you a god?

She laughed, and tears rolled down his cheeks at the sound.
No, I’m just Arathé. You sound magnificent yourself. I think it is just how everyone sounds when we bypass the body and communicate
directly, mind to mind.

Husk didn’t.

No, he didn’t
, she agreed.
Nor did Anomer or my father—but perhaps Husk had distorted their voices too.

Duon knew there were more important matters to discuss, but right now he felt reborn, overwhelmed by sensation. There was
something of the eager child in him.

I felt that way too when I awoke
, Arathé said.

You can read my thoughts?

Just as Husk could. Any thought you shape into words is clear to me, while the images and colours and memory fragments underneath
are just blurs. I’m sure you can read my thoughts in just the same way.

No, no, I don’t think I ought—can Conal read our thoughts?
He was suddenly shy, uncomfortably aware of how unpleasant a place his mind must be to a visitor.

No, he can’t.
Sadness communicated itself along their link.

Oh
, Duon thought, reading her mind without meaning to.
I see. He cannot read our thoughts because he is dead.

Yes. When you went over the bluff with Conal, I threw myself over the other side. I decided that was our best chance of overtaxing
Husk’s strength. It wasn’t bravery
, she added in response to his sudden admiration.
I didn’t care to live on if we’d failed, his lone slave. He ought to have let us all fall, but he couldn’t let go of his plans
quickly enough. I felt him try to strengthen my body against the impact, then attempt to do something with the air around
me to cushion my fall. Whatever he did worked in my case, but you and Conal had fallen a few seconds earlier and he didn’t
have as much time. I’m sorry.

Why are you sorry?
he asked, and read her answer.

Oh.

The beauty of her voice and the wonder of her mind had all but blinded him to the pain, but now she recalled him to it, he
could feel his leg pulsing with a slow, grinding ache.

You’ve broken it
, she said,
in the same place you broke it before.

How did you know
—he’d have to stop asking her that. Of course she knew.

I don’t think you will be able to walk. I’m not sure whether to wait here with you or get help.

How do you know Conal is dead?

I’ve checked his body. It’s broken.

The poor man.

Yes. He died swiftly, hopefully without pain.
She held out her memories.

He died only a little while ago?

I tried to help him, but it was too late.

Duon chose not to examine her memories, even though she made them available to him.

Don’t wait for me to get better. You need to find your family. Send someone back for me when you rejoin the others. Someone
with magic enough to heal. That Heredrew, perhaps; he healed me the last time.

Ah
, she thought.
I have a little magic. Perhaps I could heal you.

Her thoughts sounded doubtful and Duon could see her annoyance and confusion. She’d never been taught to heal people. It would
be like working in darkness; she might do more harm than good.

As to that, I have an idea. More of a hope really.
He opened his mind to her.

It might work
, she said.
But what if he’s waiting for us to make the attempt? Might he not ensnare us again?

Perhaps. But can we afford to ignore such a possibility? We can both hear him: he’s obviously in agony. We’ve done him serious
harm, as was our intention. Why not see if the connection can be exploited?

I need to rest before I try anything
, she admitted.
And then there’s Conal. I’m not leaving his body lying here to attract whatever animals live in these parts.
An image of Duon fighting off wolves came into her mind, associated with anxiety and a sense of loss.

We’ll decide in the morning
, he said, not so much ending the discussion as echoing her thoughts.

The decision made, Duon relaxed, allowing the comforting darkness to roll over him.

“
IT’S CALLED CORATA
,” Seren said, breathing heavily. His bandy legs struggled to keep pace with Kannwar’s long strides. “One of the Factor of
Malayu’s dirty little secrets. Can’t believe y’don’t know about it, pardon my forwardness, yer ’onour.”

“No pardon necessary,” Kannwar said, but Lenares could tell he had been angered by the man’s familiarity. “You don’t associate
with outsiders much, do you?”