Maylin's Gate (Book 3) (32 page)

His jaw fell open. "Uh...great, can you open a gateway for me now?"

Zeke chuckled and grinned. “I may be old, but I’m not senile.”

“Senile? I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” he said. “Can you open the gateway or not?”

Zeke stared at him expressionless for a long moment then burst into laughter. "Me?" Tears welled in the corners of Zeke's eyes and the old man wheezed with laughter. “You’re serious?”

Heat spread through his cheeks and down his neck. Had he misunderstood? "I’m not sure what’s so funny. You just said you could."

"I can no more open a gateway to Maylin than grow wings and fly."

"Then why are you here?"

Zeke wiped away the tears. "I'm the caretaker of this place. The tender of the Way."

"The Way?"

"The place where this world connects with the next. I look out for things here while the Keeper’s away."

"Keeper?"

Zeke's mouth fell open. "Don't you know?”

“I don't know anything. Please, can you help me or not?”

“I’m sorry lad, I thought you knew.” Zeke's eyes softened. “You're the Keeper. It's you who can build the gateway to Maylin."

His legs turned to mush and the world spun. He eyed a tree stump near the campfire. "Do you mind if I sit down?"

Zeke glanced between him and the campfire. "Where are my manners?” Zeke leaned on a gnarled cane and limped toward the fire. “It's been a long time since I've hosted a guest. I've taken leave of my senses. Help yourself." Zeke gestured toward the fire.

He followed Zeke to the fire.

The rich aroma of roast boar mingled with the sweet scent of smoldering cedar. The fire popped and crackled reminding him of happier days spent with Master Tyrell. A slight smile crept across his face. What would Master Tyrell make of old Zeke? He stifled a grin.

"Please sit. The roast shouldn't take much longer."

He perched on the tree stump and peered into the fire.

Zeke eased onto the stump across from him. "I'm sorry for laughing. I assumed you'd come into your power by now. Rarely do I meet one such as you. From what I can tell, you’re near full strength." Zeke's gaze shifted upward as if trying to unlock some dusty memory. "In fact, I've only met one other like you,” the old man murmured.

His gaze drifted to the glowing embers. "What does the Keeper do?"

"The Keeper controls the gateway to Maylin in this world."

"Here on Earth?"

"That's right." Zeke's tone echoed satisfaction.

"Maylin…that’s the next world?"

"Now you're catching on." Zeke grinned revealing a set of dull gray teeth.

"I don't know how to make a gateway, and you act as if it should be easy."

"It should be." Zeke's brow furrowed. "But, you need to be here inside the Swamp of Tears for it to be that easy." Zeke motioned toward the tree behind the campfire. "Beneath these limbs it's as easy as one, two, three. Well…it's easy for you."

"How do you know I'm the Keeper?"

"It’s your soul. I could see it blazing halfway across the swamp. It was all I could do to get Tarbin to go out and greet you."

Zeke had a strange idea about warm welcomes. "Tarbin is the ape?"

Zeke nodded. "He and the other banthers guard the Way. Tarbin flat out refused until I agreed he could bring his tribe."

"I see."

"I warned him that so many banthers might put you off. I'm sorry if he scared you. Tarbin doesn't mean any harm. Well…not to you at any rate."

He recalled the skull on Tarbin’s staff and felt grateful he’d made the cut. "Why did you call me Elduin?"

"That's your name in Maylin. That's how they know you."

"How does anybody in Maylin know me?"

Zeke's face reddened. "You might want to have this conversation with Lady Aurelia in Maylin. She’ll be expecting you."

"Zeke, why can't I build a portal to Maylin? What's wrong with me?"

"That's a real puzzler. The Seeker would know of course. But, you'd need to build the gateway first." Zeke cackled. "A bit like the chicken and the egg."

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Can you think of anything that might help?"

Zeke's gaze drifted to the rotating boar. The old man mumbled something he couldn't make out.

"What?"

"There might be a way, but...I'm not sure if it would work."

"Tell me. I'm out of options."

Zeke sighed and nodded. "Give me your hands."

"My hands?"

"Before I tell you, I need to take a good look at you."

Why had he listened to Tiamat? What choice did he have? He stood and rounded the fire before settling on a rough boulder beside Zeke. "Why do I get the feeling this is going to hurt?"

Zeke cackled and reared back. "I like you lad." The old man wiped away fresh tears. "This isn't going to hurt. Not even a little."

He thanked Elan for the small mercy. He nodded and held out his hands for Zeke.

Zeke's hands, warm and callused, took his. The old man's eyes drifted closed. "Not going to hurt at all...." Zeke's lips parted and the old man seemed to drift away.

Warmth, soothing and welcome, slid through his hands and along his arms. Power pulsed through his core. Power he hadn’t touched since the day he saved Moira on the high river basin. He reached for Elan's power, but it slipped away.

"Don't do that lad. No." Zeke's head wobbled. "That just makes it harder."

He focused on the old man's face and a thin glimmer of light formed around Zeke's body.

Purple light glowed and intensified around Zeke. A double-knotted soul thread formed between him and the old man.

A purple soul thread? What sort of man had a purple soul thread?

Zeke gasped and the contact broke. The old man's eyes fluttered open.

The purple soul thread vanished.

Zeke's face turned a sickly shade of green. "What have you done to yourself?"

"Done to myself? What do you mean?"

"You're as sick as a Saturday sausage."

"A what?"

"Boy, you're sick." Zeke's hands trembled and the old man leaned away from him. "You've played with power not meant for one like you. It's blocking you."

"Blocking me?"

"You need to clean the taint from your body," Zeke said.

"What taint?"

"Soul magic created by man. Stolen magic."

Did the old man mean Elan's magic? Heat spread along his back. "Stolen?"

"I was right. No doubt about it." Zeke stood and lumbered toward the hut.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to give you something."

He stood and followed Zeke toward the ramshackle hut.

Zeke emerged a moment later holding a smooth flat stone. Strange symbols marked the stone’s surface. "Take this."

"What is it?"

"You'll know what it’s for, when the time’s right."

He took the stone from Zeke.

Zeke limped from the hut toward the glade. "Come, there's no time to waste."

"Zeke, slow down. What's going on?"

"Close your eyes unless you want to find yourself sick again." Zeke hobbled forward.

He closed his eyes and continued forward with arms outstretched.

"Okay. Open."

He opened his eyes and the game trail appeared.

Tarbin appeared beside Zeke.

General Demos stood like a statue still clutching the longbow. Zeke touched the general's wrist.

General Demos slackened and the bow clattered to the ground.

"Take care sansan, I meant you no harm." Zeke whispered the words still clutching the general's wrist.

General Demos's gaze flashed between him, Tarbin, and Zeke. The general's tongue flickered at manic levels.

"Relax. We’re safe," he said moving to the general's side. He slid the stone into his pocket and frowned at Zeke. "Where are we going?"

"Not we...you." Zeke glanced toward the Tree of Life. "I have to tend the Way."

"Okay. Where am I going?"

"To the world's edge. To the Ruins of Mistros."

"What?"

"I've been there once before,” Zeke’s gaze drifted upward. “A long time ago. That's where I found the rock you're holding."

General Demos gazed between him and Zeke with eyes narrowed.

"What am I getting myself into?"

"It's dangerous," Zeke said. "But, I don't see any other way."

"What do I do once I'm there?"

Zeke shrugged. "I'm not sure."

He gaped at the old man. "What do you mean, you're not sure?"

"I heard a rumor," Zeke said. "It's why I went there the first time. I wanted to see for myself."

Why couldn't the old man get to the point? "I hope you'll at least tell me the rumor."

"Of course. The ruins hold power. The power to alter what's come before."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know," Zeke said. "But, the ruins might hold the key to removing the sickness. I told you it was a long shot."

He clenched his jaw and nodded. "How do I get there?"

"Tarbin can lead the way," Zeke said. "Well, most of the way. It's not safe for Tarbin to leave the swamp. When you reach the forest's edge, he'll show you where to go."

"What then?"

Zeke's eyes narrowed. "Then you enter the ruins."

"I know that. I mean after. Can I build a portal once the sickness is gone?"

"Come back to the swamp when you're done. Tarbin will wait for you at the swamp’s edge. He'll lead you back to me."

His stomach sank. “That’s it?”

"That’s it.” Zeke bowed with a grand flourish. “Goodbye Elduin, and good luck." Zeke vanished.

Tarbin stood idle staring at him stone-faced.

He turned to face General Demos.

"What was that about?" General Demos stared at him bug-eyed.

"What do you mean? Didn't you hear Zeke's instructions?"

"I heard gibberish," General Demos said. "The old man spoke in riddles and half-formed sentences."

Had the heat cooked the general's good senses? "I'll admit Zeke is a bit odd, but don't you think you're being harsh?"

"It wasn't just the old man." General Demos retrieved the longbow.

"Say that again," he said.

General Demos secured the bow. "I said, it wasn't just the old man speaking in riddles."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, you spoke in riddles too, human. What’s more, you seemed to understand him."

He stared toward the empty space where Zeke had vanished. Was he losing his mind? Was the old man sending him off to die? Without looking at General Demos he spoke. "I won't ask you to go with me."

"Go where human?"

He turned to General Demos. "Zeke called it the world's edge. He said I was sick and the ruins might cleanse the taint from my body."

"Did he say anything else?"

"It's a dangerous place. Zeke wouldn't say why. He said I might not make it back.” He paused and gazed north across the swamp. “The banthers can lead you from the swamp. Back to the basin where the dragons can find you. Take word back to your people and mine. Tell them what's happened. Let the world prepare for what's to come."

Silence hung in the air for a long moment. General Demos held his gaze but didn't speak.

He turned and nodded to Tarbin who stood ready on the game trail.

The banther loped forward moving south through the twisted roots and gnarled cypress.

He followed without looking back. He didn't blame the general. If he should fall, the world needed to know what they’d discovered. Rika needed to know. A deep ache settled in his chest.

"Wait," General Demos said.

He froze. The sound of General Demos's rattling armor came from behind him.

"I'm coming." General Demos pushed past him following Tarbin along the trail.

The tension in his shoulders eased. "You don't have to do this." His voice caught in his throat.

General Demos spoke above the chatter of apes and monkeys watching from the treetops. "And let you hog all the glory?" A smile slid across General Demos's face. "I think not."

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

A Shaman Convinced

The shrubs shook and a figure emerged cloaked by shadows.

Danielle squinted. "Brees?"

Brees stepped into the light picking away bits of dead leaves from his robe. "It's me."

Keely shifted into a forest cat and snarled low and menacing.

She glared at her friend. "Keely. What are you doing?" Despite her protest, she opened her mind to the nearby trees, shrubs, and grass. She wouldn't go down without a fight.