season avatars 01 - seasons beginnings (13 page)

moving?”

“Moving?”

“Into a larger house. A palace that used to belong to a judge.” She

shook her head and let out a laugh. “Can you imagine it, people like us

living in a palace? I’m sure it will be beautiful!”

And I’m sure it’s been half destroyed by looters.
Kron couldn’t bring

himself to say the words out loud and take the excitement from his

wife’s face. Instead, he reached over and took her hand. “Anywhere

with you is beautiful, my love. Have you told your sister yet?”

“Not yet. She may be jealous, but I’ll still come to visit. It’s not that

far away.”

As she would be if she traveled to Delns with Kron. He supposed

that once Bella tied herself to the child goddess, she would be forbidden

to leave this region, and he’d never return to Delns. Perhaps he should

discourage her from becoming an Avatar, but he didn’t have the heart

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to deny her. If he’d changed to the point where he could no longer give

her a child, then at least he should let her find some other way to spend

her time. Perhaps, if Bella served the gods well, they would grant her–

and him–what she wished for.

With that hopeful thought in mind, Kron smiled at his wife and ca-

ressed her hand.

They went to bed early, and Kron fell asleep after they made love.

But bad dreams roused him in the middle of the night. He lay there,

listening to water drip out of the clock, until he realized sleep wouldn’t

grant him more peace tonight. He might as well visit the Magic Institute

and learn more about what was going on.

He dressed, collected the light-producing artifact, the gold sundial,

and a few other items that might be useful, then stepped outside. The

air was cold, although it wasn’t yet Frostmoon. Kron felt his way to the

place where he’d set up the test portal last night and rebuilt the arch.

Then he rested his hands on the wood and remembered the mosaics and

the fountain in the institute’s courtyard. He knew them well, yet he had

trouble bringing them into focus. The mosaics were still present, but

they were missing stones, and some of their colors had faded. The foun-

tain held no water, and part of the basin had chipped away. Leaves

littered the courtyard, along with animal droppings and small bones. It

didn’t look as if anyone had cleaned the courtyard in moons. The only

possible good point about the situation was that it didn’t appear Salth

had been here recently either. But if no one was at the Magic Institute,

would Kron learn anything by portaling there? Or what if this was a

trap, some illusion Salth had cast to lure him somewhere she could am-

bush him?

“You won’t get me that easily, Salth,” he muttered. He brought out

a magic-finder, gave it a taste of Salth’s magic signature, and tossed it

through the portal. As he’d suspected, it flared, though the stone flick-

ered as though it was uncertain what it detected. Maybe Salth had

altered so much her magic core had transformed too. Would he know if

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his had changed? She hadn’t had any trouble finding him, so maybe it

hadn’t.

You’re wasting time,
he told himself.
Either head through the portal

or close it before something comes through after you.

The sundial was small enough for Kron to wear on a chain around

his neck. He checked to make sure it was secure, both physically and

magically, squared his shoulders, and stepped through.

Nothing pounced on him as he arrived, but Kron moved as silently

as he could and strained to listen for any signs of life—or unlife. He

picked up the magic-finder and swung it in a circle around him. Its glow

didn’t change. The fountain couldn’t betray his presence without water,

but he edged around it anyway as he approached the Magic Institute.

Before entering the building, he waved the magic-finder in front of it.

It seemed to brighten for a heartbeat. If Salth had been here, any traces

of her presence would most likely be inside. Kron dug a tuft of undyed

wool from his pouch and enchanted it to soak up magic. Then he pushed

the door open with his foot—something he shouldn’t be able to do if

someone was here to defend the Magic Institute.

Kron used the glow from the magic-finder to explore. He found the

first body in the reception area. A female in an apprentice’s robes lay

on the floor. Unbound dark hair spilled down her back. When Kron

turned her over to see if he recognized her, her wizened face belied her

apparent youth.

Salth must have drained all of her remaining years from her, but

why? If she’s mastered time, shouldn’t she be able to create more for

herself?
But if Salth wasn’t mortal anymore, she didn’t need to steal

time for herself. Kron frowned. The only person she would give more

time to would be Sal-thaath. Had she managed to resurrect him?

Kron needed answers, and he didn’t think he would find them here.

However, he searched every room in the Magic Institute, hoping to find

a survivor. There were none. Every body that he found had been aged,

sometimes so much that he wasn’t sure if he recognized the individual.

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He didn’t find Pagli’s body; he wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or a

curse.

When Kron had finished searching, he returned to the courtyard.

Numbness made it difficult to think. Should he attempt to warn the other

magicians he knew? Was anyone else even left? No word from his fam-

ily in years, his second home forever haunted by this tragedy—if

something happened to Bella, he’d have no one left to love.

The cold breeze on his neck brought him the scent of decay. Kron

spun around and raised his magic-finder. Pagli’s body shuffled forward,

but not toward him. Toward the still-active portal.

“No!” Kron yelled. He threw the enchanted wool toward his former

teacher. The breeze caught it and brought it back toward him. The wool

wouldn’t work on him because he’d enchanted it, but he instinctively

dodged it anyway. Pagli halted, then turned toward Kron. He raised his

hands. Did he intend to throw another black sundial at Kron? He moved

his hands in a pattern Kron recognized, even though he’d never mas-

tered it himself. Pagli—or Salth working through him—was

summoning a fireball. Kron’s robe was enchanted to protect him against

fire, but he’d never had to test it against someone this strong. Where

was that wool? If he could touch Pagli with it before he completed his

spell—

Pagli finished his spell with a flourish, pointing all of his fingers at

Kron. However, only a few sparks dribbled out of his fingers. Appar-

ently the corpse’s ability to wield magic on its own was limited. Kron

seized the chance to dart forward and snatch the wool off of the pave-

ment. Before using it, however, he halted and stared at Pagli’s face.

“Pagli? Are you still in there?” he asked. “It’s me, Kron Evenhanded.

You don’t have to do this. You can resist Salth. Just show me a sign

that you don’t want to hurt me or my wife....”

As if he’d remembered he had a more urgent task elsewhere, Pagli

turned back toward the portal.

No. Not Bella. You won’t hurt Bella.
Grimly, Kron tackled the

corpse. There couldn’t be any part of Pagli’s soul still trapped in there.

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Nonetheless, Kron’s hands trembled as he knocked Pagli’s body down

to the ground and pressed the wool on his forehead. The body jerked a

couple of times, but feebly. Kron knelt on Pagli’s chest. He gritted his

teeth and forced himself to watch as the light faded from Pagli’s eyes

for the last time. Perhaps he was providing relief for his mentor, but he

couldn’t tell. The corpse didn’t bother taunting Kron, which was very

unlike Salth. Perhaps she was too busy planning mischief back at

Kron’s house. Instinct urged him to hurry home, but he wasn’t finished

here yet. He couldn’t let Salth take control of Pagli’s body—or the oth-

ers—again. The easiest way to do that would be to burn all of the bodies.

But instead of preparing a fire, Kron peered through the portal, trying

to tell if anything was amiss at home.

An owl hooted behind him, making him jump. Perhaps this creature

was under Salth’s control too. But when he turned around, the owl

transformed into the woman-child who’d distrusted him so much during

their encounter in the meadow. Her hair bounced as if She’d just tum-

bled out of bed, and She held her hands out as if preventing Kron from

coming any closer. Her face wasn’t visible, making it difficult to guess

her intentions.

When She didn’t speak, Kron asked, “Bella?”

“She’s safe. I have owls and wolves surrounding your house, watch-

ing for any sign of Salth.” She jerked Her head toward the Magic

Institute. “Go and do what needs to be done here. Take anything you

need for your own magic. You will need it for tomorrow night.”

With that, She disappeared, leaving no portal or other sign of her

behind.

Kron waited a few more heartbeats, but Fall didn’t return. He appre-

ciated the reassurance that these new magicians were keeping their

promise, but that didn’t make this task easier.

Kron entered the Magic Institute for the last time and collected as

many gold objects as he could carry. He stopped at each of the bodies

to straighten them out and close their eyes. He also collected the records

of the Magic Institute. There were so many of them he had to create a

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small portal to his house and feed the records and other items through

it. By the time he was done, the sky was beginning to lighten with the

dawn.

Kron took a deep breath. “Pagli and everyone else who once lived

and worked in this place, I grieve for your deaths. I do not know what

all of you wanted or expected after death, so I hope your souls have a

safe journey to whatever awaits you. As for me, I will do my best to

make sure Salth never does anything else like this again.”

He enchanted the courtyard walls to contain fire, then set the magic-

saturated wool alight and used it to cremate Pagli. The fire would spread

to the building and consume everything that could burn before dying.

As he returned to the portal, the fire’s heat burned away all unwanted

tears falling down his face.

C H A P T E R E L E V E N

The Crystal House

“Kron? Why did you sleep in so late? Are you ill?” Bella felt his

forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Do you want me to fetch Galia, or

Tylan the healer?”

Kron reluctantly opened his eyes. Judging from the light in the room,

it was mid-morning. He’d had only a few hours of sleep since returning

home. He’d been exhausted enough to fall asleep as soon as he fell into

bed, but now the images of the aged bodies and the undead Pagli re-

turned. Kron groaned and shook his head.

Bella leaned closer to him and sniffed. “Why do I smell smoke on

you?”

How could he inflict the horrors he’d seen on such a sweet soul?

Even though she’d only been to the Magic Institute once, she’d grieve

almost as much as he did. Kron wanted to reassure her, but he couldn’t

force a smile this morning.

“It’s...it’s nothing, dear one.”
Only my second home destroyed.
“You

don’t need to worry about me when you’ll be swearing yourself to the

goddess of animals soon.”

“She’s properly referred to as the Goddess of Fall, or simply Fall.”

Bella tilted her head and studied him, an unexpected shrewdness in her

flecked eyes. “The smoke—is it related to the investigation Spring and

Winter asked you to perform? Have you learned more about—” she

lowered her voice—“Salth, or Time, or whoever it is who turned your

friend into a nightmare?”

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“His nightmare is over.” Kron pushed himself out of bed. “Is there

more beer?” Wine, or something stronger, would be better and help him

forget that last attack by Pagli. But Kron couldn’t afford to get drunk

now, not when he had to create more protective artifacts.

“What do you mean, his nightmare is over?”

Kron splashed cold water on his face.

“Kron, answer me.” Bella tugged on his arm. “What don’t you want

to tell me about last night?”

“You don’t want to hear—”

“But if it’s that bad, I need to hear about it.” She led him to a chair.

“And perhaps, you need to talk about it.”

Kron stared at her for a few more heartbeats, then gave in and told

her everything that had happened last night. As he’d expected, her face

grew pale with horror, and her eyes glistened with tears. Part of him

hoped she would reconsider pledging herself to the child goddess so she

would be safe. Except she wasn’t safe now, was she? Perhaps it would

be better for her to be under the goddess’s protection. The goddess