Wakeworld (24 page)

I
t wasn’t much of a passage. Through it Vivian could see nothing but daylight. There was no telling what lay on the other side, or even how much time had passed since she fell. Hours, days, even weeks or years. But the clean air drew her, along with the promise of finding water and food.

Poe decided the matter, as he had done so many times before. He slipped through the crack and out of sight. As always, Vivian followed. It was a hard scramble up a pile of loose stones that cut into her bare feet and scraped the palms of her hands. The crack itself was about the height of a tall man, and narrow. If she’d been heavier, she would not have made it. As it was, the sharp edges of stone carved into the skin of her shoulders and thighs as she eased through.

But then she was free and clear.

A cold wind blew against her and she staggered under the assault, naked and shivering.

She stood with Poe beside her on a narrow ledge, halfway down a sheer cliff with no obvious way either up or down. Her range of motion was restricted to about a ten-foot space. To her left, the ledge narrowed and ended. To the right, the cliff bulged outward. The shelf continued around it, but only about three inches’ worth. Enough for an experienced climber, maybe.

Not for a small and weary woman.

Poe huddled against the cliff wall, away from the wind. Looking back to check on him, Vivian saw that the cleft she had climbed out through had closed behind her. Even if she had wanted to, there was no going back to the purgatory of the Dreamshifters.

A desolate valley spread out below—rock, sand, and sagebrush. On the far side another mountain loomed, its summit shrouded in dark clouds. Familiar. She had seen it in dream after dream, nightmare after nightmare. At its base, what could only be the Gates, made of a stone so black it sucked up all the light. Even in full sun, the area at their foot was in permanent shadow. All across the valley floor, tall shapes stood in symmetrical patterns. Standing stones, she thought at first. Giant chessmen, except that as she watched they moved, and her heart convulsed in a beat of fear as she remembered Zee’s talk of giants.

They made the Key,
she reminded herself.
They crafted the Black Gates. There is no reason to think of them as enemies.

Dragons wheeled and soared above the mountain, for all the world like a flock of birds except that their wings made a constant thunder and raised a dust storm on the plain below. Vivian tried to reach out to them, but there weren’t even murmured voices in her head, now, not so much as a faint response. Grief at this broadsided her; she had fought so long and hard against the dragon power, hating and loathing it, and now that it was gone she missed it.

Which figured. It would have been nice to fly down off this inconvenient perch, because she had no idea how she was going to get where she needed to go. Or anywhere, for that matter. It would be ironic to die of cold and hunger on the side of a mountain after everything she had already survived.

Closer than the dragons, another bird flew, large and black. She watched him, envious of strong wings and the gift of flight. Poe made a small sound almost like a whimper, and she wondered whether he felt the lack of wings. The bird croaked solemnly, as if in answer, and then fluttered down at her feet.

Weston’s raven, she was sure of it. And if he wasn’t with Weston, then something was wrong.
Not dead,
she told herself.
Just lost somewhere, or in trouble. As am I.

The wind died down a little, shifted its direction. In the relative silence she heard voices from around the buttress.

“Strategy? Direct line across the center? Or circle to the left and try to stay out of sight?”

“First thing we have to do is get down. I can’t see how we will do that unnoticed.”

“And if they notice us?”

“They may do nothing.”

“If they stop us?”

“We fight.” Zee’s voice was unyielding stone.

They were alive, and still fighting. Vivian’s heart leaped with joy. She shuffled across the ledge to press up against the bulging place and called, “Zee? Weston? I’m over here!”

“Vivian?”

“How do I get to you?”

“Just a minute. Weston’s got a rope.”

Of course Weston would have a rope. It was a long way down, though, and the ledge was so very narrow and the wind so very strong. Even with a rope tied around her waist and secured to something, she was nearly frozen at the idea of making that trek. She was nearly frozen anyway from standing exposed in the wind. Hopefully Weston also had her clothes. Not that it mattered. Right now, she couldn’t think past getting off this ledge.

A rattling sound drew her eyes to a small rock careening down the cliff face, and then Zee moved into her line of sight. His body pressed up against the stone as though it were a lover, arms spread in a wide embrace. He shuffled sideways toward her with his toes on that tiny strip of rock, one slow step after another. A rope was tied around his waist, along with the flannel shirt and jeans Weston had brought for her; shoes hung around his neck by the laces. Vivian held her breath, waiting for what seemed an eternity before he stepped down onto the wider ledge and turned to her.

She would have thrown herself into his arms in joy and relief, but his grim face stopped her. He was staring at her chest. Self-conscious, she wrapped her arms around her naked breasts, and as she did so her fingers automatically tented over the still-healing knife wound, protecting it.

“I nearly killed you.” His voice scraped like stone on stone.

“You didn’t.”

“I don’t understand how. Missed lung, heart, major arteries . . .”

“Zee. You have to let it go.”

“Can’t. Oh damn it, you’re freezing. Here.” He fumbled with the clothes tied around his waist and helped her into the flannel shirt. It served to cover her but provided precious little protection from the cold wind, which was as good an excuse as any. She wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her cheek against his broad chest. He stiffened, but she knew now what the trouble was and didn’t let him push her away.

“If you don’t want me dead, you’d best warm me a little or I’ll be too numb to make it around that ledge.”

His arms came round her then, enclosing her in his warmth. A moment later his cheek pressed against the top of her head. “I have pants. And your shoes.”

“I know. I saw.”

“You should put them on.”

“In a minute.”

“Vivian—”

“You didn’t mean to kill me. It’s the whole dragon slayer thing. You said I was wrong about you and me, that we could get past it.”

She felt his chest heave and tightened her arms around his waist, afraid that he would try to pull away.

“There are things you don’t know—”

“So tell me.” She turned her face up to his, and saw his resolve waver. He was going to kiss her, and everything would sort itself out from there.

His head bent toward hers.

“Are you guys lost over there?”

Vivian might have hurt Weston at that moment if he’d been in range. Zee kissed the top of her head and pulled away.

“That’s not fair!” she protested. “You can’t just throw something out like that and not tell. What don’t I know?”

“We don’t have time.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. And then the old smile broke out, full of mischief. “Besides, when I tell you I want to have plenty of room to run away and lots of shelter. All right? Ready to put those shoes on?”

She looked at the ledge and shook her head. “Why can’t Weston just come here?”

“Because Weston is where we need to be. There is actually a path of sorts that will get us down into the valley.” He untied the rope from around his waist and knotted it around hers.

“What about you?”

“I’ll be right beside you.”

“But—”

“The wind is blowing against the cliff. It holds you to the face. It’s not so bad; only the fear is a problem.”

“What about Poe?”

“Questions, questions.” He knelt and tied a second rope around Poe, careful to secure it beneath his wings so it wouldn’t slip. Then he carried the bird over to the edge of the cliff, and gave the rope a tug. “You ready, Weston?”

“Ready.”

“One penguin coming your way.”

Gently he eased Poe over the edge. The little bird swung out over the emptiness below, and then over to the left. Vivian’s heart swung with him, but at once the rope began to shorten and Poe vanished from her view, presumably finding safety with Weston on the other side.

She delayed, slipping into the pants, putting on the shoes, but then she couldn’t put it off any longer. Her hands checked and double-checked the rope tied around her waist as she stood shivering and reluctant to take that first step.

“Weston’s got you. If you slip and fall, worst-case scenario you lose a patch of skin and collect another bruise. You can handle it.”

“I’m a lot heavier than Poe—”

“And he’s got you belayed around a rock. Come on now—we’ve got work to do.”

Right. She was being a coward and there wasn’t time for that.

Zee put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “If I thought it wasn’t safe, or that he would drop you, I wouldn’t let you go. Understood?”

She nodded, feeling marginally better, and managed a feeble smile.

“Ready?”

She nodded, and he put his hand on her waist and steadied her as she edged first one toe and then the other out onto the ledge. Zee tugged the rope as a signal, and it instantly tightened. He was right about the wind, too—it pushed her face-first into the rock. She could do this. If she could bring herself to move her feet.

Don’t look down. Slide one foot over, and then the next.
Zee was beside her now, to the right. Doing the same thing she was doing but without the safety of a rope.
Don’t think about that. Don’t think at all. Just move your feet, cling to the rock, don’t look down.

Halfway. A few more steps and she should be able to see Weston and Poe and the place she was aiming for.

The rope tugged sharply, setting her off balance and almost throwing her backward off the cliff. Her fingernails scrabbled on sheer rock, found a crack, and caught. Not much, but enough to prevent her from falling away. She clung, not daring to move, breath sobbing in and out of her lungs. The rope slackened, then tightened again.

“Grace,” she heard Weston say. “So it’s true then.”

Vivian caught her breath, in dismay. Grace here was not a good thing. Not good at all. But the thought steadied her. She wasn’t going to allow the old hag to finish off Weston after all of this time. Besides, she wanted her pendant. And the Key, of course the Key and to save the world and everybody in it.

But first things first.

It wasn’t far, not really. She felt the difference in the air, caught the change in light and perspective in her peripheral vision, but didn’t dare to turn her head. Her arms burned with the effort of clinging to the crack; her calves ached. But then the ledge widened, little by little, so that it held her whole foot and not just her toes. Wider yet, and then she was on a level platform as big as a house.

A small house, anyway, not big enough for any sort of comfort. She could see the path Zee had mentioned, winding down the shoulder of the mountain. Steep, but not sheer. And between her and that path, an old woman.

Weston looked like he’d been carved from the stone of the mountain, his face etched in lines of grief. The old woman facing him had a face much like his, softened to the feminine. Her lips curved in a smile as she saw Vivian and Zee.

“And there they are. Unfallen after all. Depending on your definition of that word, of course. Hardly innocents, the lot of you.”

“Give me my pendant.” Deep down Vivian knew that the other things were more important, but the reaction was a primal thing that boiled up out of the depths of her.

“Or you’ll do what? Take it from me?”

Vivian darted forward to do exactly that, but the old woman raised a filthy, gnarled hand in a casual gesture and she bounced off an invisible force field.

“Now, now, young one. That will never do. Remember what happened to your brain when you fought me before.”

And with those words the pain began, Vivian’s skull in a vise, tightening bit by bit; her brain was going to explode under the pressure like a ripe melon. She tried with all of her strength and will to fight back but found herself doubled over, gasping, both hands clutching at her head.

“Release her.” Zee’s voice.

“Or you’ll do what, lover? Have you told her about you and me?”

The pain eased, enough so that Vivian could stand up straight and watch as the wrinkled old face smoothed and tightened. The bone structure altered. Brown eyes turned to gray. Her hair waved and curled and brightened to auburn.

A mirror image of Vivian’s own face and body before the dragon marked her, except that the belly swelled out in the soft curve of pregnancy. Her brain still felt scrambled with the pain, the words and the visual not connecting.

“Don’t even think about using the Voice on me,” Vivian’s own voice said from that other body. “It won’t work now. I’ve got your pendant and your hair and skin. I have the power over you, and you will do as I say.”