Shards of Time (33 page)

Alec flexed his arms. “I can certainly swing a sword if I need to.” He slung the Radly over his shoulder and walked down to join them.

“Wait a moment,” said Thero. “Does anyone have any food?”

“Are you hungry, Master Thero?” asked Mika. “I can go get something from camp.”

“Not for me, Mika. For Alec to take with him.”

Micum produced two small turnips from a pocket and tossed them to Alec.

“Good,” said Thero. “I’m curious as to whether it will be edible on the other side, given your experience with the river and fire.”

Alec tucked the turnips away and took a deep breath. “All right then.”

Drawing his sword, he walked slowly to the wall, bracing for some sort of shock of transition, though he hadn’t felt anything unusual before. By the time he reached the wall he was holding his breath, but nothing happened. Sand gritted under his boots as he touched the wall beside the hole Thero had made.

Nothing happened.

He turned back to the others. “I don’t understand. This is where it happened.”

Thero walked down to join him. “Interesting. So it’s not a permanent bridge.”

“You mean I just happened to be in the right place at the right time?”

“So it would seem.”

Alec touched the wall again, surprisingly disappointed, then looked back at Seregil, Micum, and—“Where’s Mika?”

“He’s right here,” said Micum, pointing down the other corridor to his left. Then he frowned. “Or he was. Mika, lad, where are you?”

The others joined him, but there was no sign of the boy.

Seregil and Micum took off at a run, calling Mika’s name.

“Oh, no,” Alec gasped, putting aside his bow and quiver and hurrying back up the corridor with Thero.

“No no no no …” Thero dug into his pocket, coming up with a bit of linen with what looked like blood on it. “Please, Lightbearer, no …” Clutching it, he whispered a brief spell, then staggered, catching himself with one hand against the wall. “I—I can’t see him, Alec. He’s gone.”

“Gone like I was gone?”

Thero nodded, pale and horrified. “Yes, I think so.”

Alec reached the juncture where the others had disappeared
and sucked in a startled breath. Just down the corridor Seregil had taken, the passageway was gone—or rather, it appeared to open onto a dun-colored landscape beyond. In the distance he saw a flock of sheep. The edges of the portal—if that’s what it was—were hazy, and rippled like gauzy curtains in a breeze, blending stone wall with dull sky and grass.

The wizard ran up behind him. “What is it? Did Seregil find him?”

“Thero, don’t you see that?”

“See what?” Clearly the wizard did not, since he was looking straight at the scene.

“Don’t worry. I’ll find him. You look after Seregil.” Alec clutched his sword and ran for the portal.

“What are you doing?” Thero called after him.

The scene was beginning to fade, the gauzy edges closing in. Instinctively Alec ducked his head as he reached it and leapt through.

M
IKA
squatted on the dry brown grass with his good arm wrapped around his knees, too scared to move. He hadn’t meant to go anywhere. One minute he was standing behind Master Micum, the next he was here in this strange place, all alone. He was smart enough to guess that this was probably where Alec had gone when he disappeared.

And Alec found his way out
.

Mika clung to that thought as he slowly looked around. There were sheep nearby, and he saw two boys on the far side of the flock. They hadn’t noticed him yet, so Mika rose on shaky legs and hurried away in the opposite direction before anyone set the dogs on him. Seregil had taught him the dog charm, too, but it hadn’t worked for Alec and Mika was terrified at the thought of it not working for him if he needed it. Even if he didn’t have a broken arm, he’d be no match for them.

He kept glancing back over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t been seen. Fortunately the direction he’d taken was downhill and soon he was safely out of sight. A long way down the hill he saw a river and the town Alec had described, or one just like it. It had some kind of wall around it, and a tower in the middle. It was risky to go there, after what had happened to Alec, but he had no choice but to follow the river past it. That’s what Alec had done to get back to their own plane and Mika didn’t know what else to do. He just hoped it was the same town.

The hillside was rocky and uneven, and cut with little rills.
His broken arm ached as he jolted over the rough ground. The grass was brown and the sky was cloudy, just as Alec had described. By the time Mika finally reached the river road he was tired, hungry, and very thirsty. The town was still a long way off and even though the road that ran along the riverbank was smooth, he felt like he was walking up a steep hill. It grew harder and harder to keep putting one foot in front of another. He fell and cried out in pain as his arm jerked in the sling. He managed to get up after a moment, though it was an effort, went a little farther, only to fall again. His stomach cramped, his tongue felt swollen in his mouth, and he hurt all over as he forced himself up again. How many times had he told his mother he was so hungry he could die, when all he’d wanted was a sweet? He wondered if this was what it really felt like.

I could die
.

The thought brought him to his knees again, wishing with all his heart that his mama was there. Or better yet, Master Thero, who’d saved him from magic once before. Tears ran into the corners of his mouth and he licked at them in desperation, but they were salty and only inflamed his terrible thirst. Try as he might, he couldn’t get up, or keep his eyes open any longer. With a choked sob, he curled up in the dust to die alone and far from home.

Thero and Seregil watched in disbelief from different ends of the corridor as Alec disappeared into thin air. Seregil went white, but before Thero could say anything something horrible oozed into being where Alec had disappeared. Made of smoke and as large as a dog, it floated in midair, wisps of it curling on the air like sea grass. It hung there for a moment, then flew at Seregil too quickly for him to avoid it and wrapped itself around his head and chest, bearing him to the ground. Seregil struggled, screaming; Thero had never heard him scream before, not like this.

“Avah! Aravah! Arasaaavah tula reso!”
Thero shouted, frantically searching his pockets for something to bind it to, all too aware that he had no protection this time. He found a
small red river stone Mika had given him and held it up.
“Avah! Aravah! Arasaaavah tula reso!”

The black cloud lifted from Seregil’s motionless body and was on Thero with impossible speed. It lifted him into the air and blood flew from the wizard’s arms and chest as invisible blades or claws raked him, cross-hatching the healing marks of the last attack, for this certainly was the same monstrous thing he’d released from Sedge back at Mirror Moon. Searing pain blossomed across his left cheek and his forehead.

“Avah! Aravah! Arasaaavah tula reso!”
he shouted a third time, trying to shield his eyes with one arm as he held the stone up.

The floor came up to meet him, hard, and it was a moment before Thero realized that the binding had worked. The stone clutched in his right hand burned like a live coal and vibrated with evil presence. The binding was fragile; he could feel that. Finding his chalk, he willed his hand to stop shaking enough to inscribe the holding symbol on the stone. It went cool, leaving only blisters on Thero’s palm and fingers.

“Thero, Seregil!” Micum shouted, running back to join them. “By the Four, what happened to you?”

“I’m fine. See to Seregil.” The ’faie lay silent and motionless now.

Micum went to him and Thero heard him cursing under his breath as he knelt by their friend.

Thero pushed himself up enough to get out his wand. Blinking blood out of his eyes, he wove an invisible cocoon of magic around the stone to preserve the chalk markings until he could get it into a proper container. “How is he, Micum?”

“You’d best come see for yourself.”

Thero’s legs wouldn’t support him. He crawled down the corridor, leaving a blood trail on the dusty stone.

Maker’s Mercy, his back is broken!
Thero thought as he reached them, seeing how twisted Seregil’s body was. He’d apparently gotten his arms over his face to shield it, but his scalp was lacerated in two places and his dark hair was sodden with blood. A small corona of it was spreading around his head. His coat and shirt were slashed to pieces. His upper
body, covered with welts and cuts, looked like he’d been flogged.

Micum felt Seregil’s throat for a pulse and let out a hoarse cry of relief. “Thank the Maker, he’s alive. We need help, and fast. Send word to the camp. Hurry!”

It took every bit of Thero’s remaining strength to summon the tiny message sphere and send it streaking off to the drysian. With a mumbled apology, he fainted.

Alec burst through the portal onto a dreary plain. It looked very much like the place he’d fallen in sheep shit, though it was hard to be sure in daylight. There were sheep nearby, though, with boys watching over them, and to his left he saw a cluster of cottages. In daylight they were mere tumbledown hovels. Of Mika there was no sign.

Putting himself into Mika’s shoes, he tried to imagine what direction the boy would have chosen. He’d listened carefully to Alec when he’d told of his adventure here, so it seemed unlikely that Mika would approach anyone, or look to the householders for help.

“So that only leaves the rest of the world,” he muttered. But Mika was a smart lad. Chances were he’d try to get out the same way Alec had, since there was no other known way. Alec looked around again, getting his bearings. The land sloped away in the distance; that should be the direction for the river.

He suddenly heard shouting from the direction of the flock. The shepherds had caught sight of him. Hoping that the dogs were safely tied up at some cottage, he ran for the river. As he hoped, he soon reached the lip of the hill and saw the river in the distance. It was farther away than he recalled, but then, he’d entered this world from a different place, so perhaps it made sense.

The going was easier in daylight. He loped and slid down the hill, then paused halfway to scan the landscape again, surprised at how suddenly tired he felt. Shaking that off, and trying to ignore how thirsty he was, he scanned the road below. There, perhaps half a mile away, not far from the town gate, something small lay in the road.

“Mika!” Alec set off again, more slowly this time. The last time he’d been here he’d blamed the dog attack for his exhaustion, but he felt it again now. His legs grew heavy and his breath came in hollow gasps.

Never mind
, he told himself as he struggled on.
Mika’s there and I’ll get him out
.

He hadn’t gone far, however, when the gates opened and a woman in a flowing red gown rode out on a black horse with a white mane, like Klia’s Moonshine. She cantered to where Mika lay and Alec watched in horror as she waved a hand, levitating the boy’s limp form up into her arms. Even if he’d had his bow—now lying uselessly in that corridor in Menosi—it would have been too long a shot to chance. Wheeling her horse, the woman galloped back into the town, hair streaming like a black banner on the wind, and the gates closed after her.

Alec fell to his knees. He didn’t know if Mika was alive or dead but now he was beyond reach and Alec felt too weak to go after him.

It’s this place!
he thought.
It’s sucking the life out of me
. The thirst was unbearable and his belly felt like it was wrapped around his backbone. Groping in his pocket, he pulled out one of the turnips Micum had given him and took a bite. The sharp taste and moisture made his entire mouth ache and brought tears to his eyes. The intensity of the flavor and texture surpassed anything he’d ever experienced. He looked at the turnip, then took another bite. His stomach unknotted. His thirst was slaked. The sweetness seemed to flow through his very veins. A lightstone might not fare well here, but the humblest of vegetables was apparently unaffected. Tempted as he was to eat the whole thing, he saved half and the other one for later. He felt reinvigorated, but there was no telling how long it would last. As much as he’d have preferred to wait for dark, he was going to have to find his way into the town now.

The first thing Seregil had taught Alec about nightrunning in the daytime was to blend in. Assuming it was his clothing that had given him away last time, he took off his coat and tossed it into a ditch well before he reached the town. There
was no hiding his weapons, but he wasn’t about to let go of those.

Avoiding the road, he approached across the grassy plain, praying there were no guards on the top of the palisade to spy him. At the back he found another road leading to a smaller gate, where a line of people and wagons were going in and out past a pair of inattentive guards. Hoping for the best, Alec joined the throng on the road and mingled in with them, doing his best to look nondescript. He listened to the voices around him, but didn’t understand a word. A young woman with dust-brown hair caught his eye and said something, but Alec just shrugged and looked away, losing himself in the crowd. Fortunately there were other swordsmen around, but he did catch a few more people stealing curious glances at him. All the same, he made it inside the palisade and quickly dodged down an empty side street. It was a modest neighborhood of tenements, patchy, sickly-looking garden plots and—as he’d hoped—clotheslines. There didn’t seem to be anyone around, so he grabbed a tunic and some breeches off a line and put them on in an alleyway, then ate the remaining half of the first turnip. Feeling considerably less conspicuous, he went back to the busy street and began his search.