Authors: Lynn Flewelling
He came to rest on his back, a bit stunned but alive. As he lay there he suddenly realized that he was looking up at stars in a clear night sky. The dra’gorgos was gone, and there was no sound of hooves pursuing him. Gravel crunched under him as he climbed to his feet and looked around. He’d somehow fallen into a dry riverbed. He hadn’t broken anything, fortunately, though he was certain he’d be sporting some new bruises tomorrow.
At least I’ll live to see tomorrow
, he thought with a grin of profound relief.
The riverbank wasn’t very steep, and he climbed up without too much trouble. As he reached the top, he looked up and saw a town nearby. Or rather, the ruins of a town—broken walls, scattered stone. This was the place the shepherd boy had led them to, where those soldiers had died horrible, unexpected deaths.
He stood a moment, staring at it, then slowly turned around full circle.
The dry river.
The town clustered around the edge of a circular barren spot where the tower he’d seen on the other plane would fit nicely. Imagining a wooden palisade around it, Alec finally put the pieces together. He walked up to where the main gate would have been and found the remains of a street leading in. Keeping to it to avoid snakes and other dangers, he slowly walked to the open space and paced the periphery. It seemed about right. This was the mysterious woman’s town. On the other side, he’d seen it as it looked in the distant past, with the tower in place. How was it possible?
With the threat of snakes and man traps fresh in his mind, he left it with its secrets for now and started the long walk back to camp.
“There’s no use waiting here,” Micum called as Thero stood looking back at the spot where Alec had vanished. One moment he and Alec had been running full-tilt down the corridor; the next Alec had disappeared into thin air again and Thero had kept going on his own for a few yards before he slowed to a halt and turned around.
“It was just the same when he went in after Mika,” Micum explained as Thero walked back to join him. “Who knows where he’ll turn up this time? It’s never been in the same place twice.”
“What do we do?”
Micum had never seen Thero at such a loss. Resting a hand on the wizard’s shoulder, he guided him back the way they’d come. “Wherever Alec ends up, he’ll head back to camp for sure. We might as well wait for him there.”
“If we’ve lost him—lost them—”
“They’re no more lost than they were, Thero. You’ve got to hang on to hope.”
Thero looked up at him. “Is that what you do? Just hope?”
“It’s gotten me through some rough times.”
Thero said nothing more as they left the palace and rode back to the camp, taking Windrunner with them.
When they got there Thero started for his tent but Micum steered him instead to the camp circle, sat him next to the fire, and went in search of food and ale. He soon found it and carried a hard sausage and a chunk of white cheese balanced on a flat round loaf of bread and a large tankard of ale back to where the wizard sat cross-legged on the grass, hands resting on his knees, just as Micum had left him. There were soldiers and servants around the fire but they were giving Thero space.
Micum placed the food and drink in front of him and took out a knife. Cutting a slice from the sausage, he held it out to Thero on the blade. He took it and ate with no apparent interest and ate and drank more only at Micum’s insistence.
They were still there when they heard galloping hoofbeats on the road from Menosi and a man shouting, asking for Lord Thero.
Thero sprang to his feet and ran for the road. Micum followed
and saw a horseman in uniform rein in, holding something in his arms. Thero reached up and carefully took the large bundle. Micum reached him and saw that it was Mika, white-faced and unconscious, but breathing.
“Found him in the oracle’s cave, my lord,” the horseman told Thero. “Watch his arm, it’s broken.”
“Illior’s Light, again?” Thero gasped as he and Micum strode for Thero’s tent. “He’s in shock. We’ve got to get him warm. Micum, would you bring the healer?”
“Of course!”
By the time he returned with the drysian and her assistant, Thero had Mika laid out on one of the cots, his broken arm positioned on a pillow at his side.
“Maker’s Mercy, what’s happened to him this time?” the drysian exclaimed, kneeling by the bed to examine Mika’s arm. “This is a worse break than last time. Both bones are snapped.”
“Can you set it?” asked Thero.
“Of course, my lord, but the one that was broken before may not ever be quite straight. I’ll do my best.”
Micum stood with Thero on the other side of the cot while she went about setting the bones. As she pulled and twisted to join them, however, Mika woke with a scream of pain and tried to struggle away. Micum caught the boy by the shoulders and held him down. Thero got Mika’s thrashing head between his hands and murmured a spell. The boy’s eyes fluttered closed and he went still, but as he went to sleep, he mumbled something.
“What did he say?” asked Micum.
Thero looked up with new, fierce hope in his eyes. “He said ‘Klia is alive.’ ”
M
ICUM
and Thero stayed by Mika’s bed through the night.
“What do you think happened to his other one?” whispered Micum as he watched the wizard make another amulet for the boy. “I can’t imagine he’d take it off willingly.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t.” Thero let the metal cool, then tied it securely around Mika’s neck.
The boy woke just before dawn. “Master!” Mika whispered, looking up at Thero with relief and adoration that made Micum’s heart ache.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” said Thero, and Micum was sure he saw the glitter of tears in the wizard’s eyes.
“I was with Klia and she said she loves you and I was to run away if only one of us could get out,” said Mika, clutching Thero’s sleeve. “She said it was my duty to Skala. I have so much to tell you, Master, and I had a dream—”
“Slow down,” Thero soothed, stroking the boy’s forehead. “One thing at a time. Klia’s alive?”
“Yes, she’s with a lady dyrmagnos named Rhazat.”
Micum rested a hand on the hilt of his sword; this confirmed their worst fears, and now she had a name.
“Is Klia hurt?” asked Thero.
Mika shook his head. “She said Rhazat can’t kill her because she needs her to break the thing in the cave.”
“What sort of thing?”
“It’s gold with a stone in the middle that glows.”
“You were right,” Micum murmured.
“That’s a Great Seal, Mika. Why did she think Klia could break it?” asked Thero.
“I think because Klia’s related to the last Hierophant, a woman called Nhandi. Klia thinks that’s who made the seal and put the dyrmagnos in the other place.”
“Illior’s Light! But Klia didn’t break the seal.”
Mika’s lips trembled. “She wouldn’t because it was her duty to Skala. So she had to let—” Tears slid down both cheeks. “Rhazat broke my arm again, to make her, and was going to put a dra’gorgos in me.”
“But she didn’t. What happened?”
“Because the red came, Master,” Mika whispered, as if expecting a remonstrance. “It was a bad red, and I woke up in the deep, wet cave Seregil and Alec told us about and crawled up out of it to the next one. Did you find me?”
“No. One of the guards there brought you to me. You said you have a lot to tell me?”
Mika nodded. “Klia told me things to tell you. We were in a town with a tower, called Zikara. Rhazat claims she’s a queen but she’s really a dyrmagnos who kisses people to kill them.”
“Kisses them?”
“That’s what Klia said. Rhazat doesn’t look how she really is but mirrors show what she looks like. I didn’t get pulled into the other plane, either, I just was there all of a sudden. Our amulets didn’t work there, because a dra’gorgos took mine, and later another one caught us and carried us to the cave, the one on her side.” He frowned, trying to remember more. “She can’t touch gold and Lady Zella has a dra’gorgos in her.”
“Damnation, Seregil is with her!” Micum exclaimed. “I’ve got to go let him know.”
“A moment,” said Thero, laying a hand on his arm. “Let’s hear what else Mika can tell us, then you can carry the news to Seregil. Mika, is there anything else you remember?”
“Yes, Master. When Klia and I were in that other cave with Rhazat, I heard a voice in my head, just before the red came. It said something like ‘eshrlee.’ ”
“Are you sure that’s what it was?”
“No, Master, but it was like that, I’m sure.”
“Does that mean something?” asked Micum.
Thero shook his head.
“Anyway,” Mika went on, “when I was in the oracle’s caves on this plane I was really, really tired so I sat on a little stool in the cave with the light and I had a dream. I saw Menosi the way it was when people lived here. It was a festival day and Rhazat and an Aurënfaie man were coming out of the palace and people were cheering. I don’t know why, since she’s a bad person, but the people seemed to love her. She and the Aurënfaie man rode away on white horses and Rhazat said that word to me again—‘Eshrlee.’ ”
“Did you hear anyone say the name Khazireen?” asked Thero.
“No, Master. I couldn’t understand what anyone was saying. It was just a lot of yelling.”
“May I touch your mind?”
“Of course, Master.” Mika closed his eyes.
Thero gently touched the boy’s brow and his face lit up. “It’s him. You saw Khazireen and the dyrmagnos. Well done, Mika! You’ve brought us very important information. It’s going to help us save Klia. Did she say what the dyrmagnos really looks like?”
“Just that she’s very ugly.”
“That pretty much defines a dyrmagnos,” said Micum. “Is there anything else, Mika?”
“I don’t think so.”
Micum patted the boy’s knee through the blanket. “Well done, indeed. You’re a nightrunner now, the youngest one ever.”
“We’ll see about that later,” said Thero. “One last thing, Mika. You said the amulets didn’t work, but your magic did?”
“Sort of, Master. I tried to do a few spells to show the dyrmagnos when she told me to, but I couldn’t. It was just the red that came out at the end, and you know I can’t make that happen. It just does.”
“I know, and that’s also very important information. You
may well have done something that I can’t. And it may be how you got back here. Are you hungry?”
Mika nodded.
“I’ll send for some food. Micum, come out with me?”
Micum gave Mika a parting smile and followed the wizard outside.
“We have to tell Seregil about Zella quickly,” said Micum. “Are you going to contact him?”
“Yes.” Thero summoned a tiny blue message sphere on the tip of his index finger and spoke to it. “Seregil, Mika is back with information. Have you found what I sent you for? Beware of Lady Zella. She’s possessed by a dra’gorgos.” He flicked his finger and the light whizzed away. A moment later it reappeared, floating in front of Thero’s face. He touched it and listened to something Micum couldn’t hear.
“He has the arm ring, and Zella’s dead,” said Thero, looking grim. “He says he needs you to meet him at the governor’s house as soon as you can.”
“Good. Now we just need for Alec to show up. Then the four of us—” He paused a moment. “Thero, does it strike you at all that there are four of us working together on this?”
“Not really. Why?”
Micum smoothed his thumb and forefinger over his long moustache. “When we went up against Seria—”
Thero held up a hand in a warding sign.
“The one we called the Eater of Death, then. Nysander told us the prophecy of the Four: the Unseen Guide, which was Seregil; the Vanguard, which was me; the Shaft—Alec; and the Guardian—Nysander. And here we are, Seregil, Alec, me, and Nysander’s successor, about to fight a dyrmagnos, like we did then.”
“Hmm. Interesting, but I don’t think we’re in any shape to take on a god again.”
“Who’s taking on a god?” Alec asked, striding out from between two tents.
“There you are!” Thero greeted him with obvious relief. “It looks like you managed not to get yourself hurt for once. Where did you come out this time?”
Alec gave him a weary nod. “At the ruins over the ridge.
It’s the same town as on the other plane, Thero. The river, the way the town’s laid out—it has to be the same, except that the river is dry now and there’s that round bare spot where the tower should be.”