by Anne Bishop
Zhahar disturbed him. He had sensed nothing unusual about her until that brief touch of his fingers against her arm.
Light, dark, shadow. Just like that strange place on the other side of the bridge.
Then it was as if he’d touched three people, had picked up the feel of three distinct heart-cores. That shouldn’t have happened with one person. Unless she wasn’t a person at all. Unless she was something else.
Was she, or something like her, the reason some of the streets had disappeared from the Shamans’ sight? Was she working at the Asylum because it benefited her plans in some way?
“Why is this place so important?” he whispered, looking around at shabby buildings and unkempt grounds.
heart wish
He shivered despite the lingering heat. That voice again. Those words again.
He was exhausted from the demands of his first day as Keeper and the rushed journey to reach the Asylum after receiving the letter from the Shaman Council. Throughout the two days of travel, he had thought the council had been foolish to send him here on the advice of bone readers and fortune tellers.
Now he knew they had been right. All of them had been right. Something was going to happen here. Something that required a Shaman’s presence. When it came, he had to be ready.
He hurried to the apartment that would be his home for the next year. After locking up for the night, he took the sleeping draught he used occasionally when he needed to block out everyone and everything for a few hours.
Chapter 5
Lee frowned at the footbridge that spanned a narrow creek. It should have been a stationary bridge that connected two of his mother’s daylight landscapes and one of Glorianna’s. And it did. But the bridge now also resonated with Foggy Downs, a dark landscape tended by Michael.
This wasn’t the first bridge he’d come across in the past two weeks that suddenly provided access to one of Michael’s pieces of Elandar, but he was getting tired of dealing with this weird piggyback. Seemed like there couldn’t be a landscape connected to Glorianna anymore without there also being access to something connected to Michael. That meant someone crossing over a stationary bridge they’d used for years could suddenly end up in another part of the world because the Bridge—meaning him—couldn’t unravel the resonance of Michael from Glorianna.
Damn Magician. Just another way he had fouled up their lives.
He lied, something dark whispered inside Lee. You thought Michael wanted to be your friend, but it was just an excuse to get close to your sister, to use her for his own purpose. Caitlin Marie is a Landscaper too. She could have been the bait used to trap the Eater of the World. But the Magician chose to sacrifice your sister instead.
Lee rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the ache between his eyes. Yes, Michael had lied to all of them, had known from the beginning that Glorianna could stop the Eater of the World. But he didn’t tell any of them, didn’t give the family a chance to discuss what they should do. He waited until he and Glorianna went to one of his landscapes. Then he told her that damn story about the Warrior of Light and convinced her to throw her life away to save the world.
“I could have reached her, you ripe bastard,” Lee whispered as he stared at the bridge. “There had been time to get into that landscape before she locked it tight. I could have gotten in and gotten her out if you hadn’t entangled us all in a fight, hadn’t broken my arm. Damn you, Michael. She wouldn’t have suffered in that place for so long, wouldn’t have come back different. If you hadn’t stopped me, I could have reached her.”
He sneezed twice, then felt the burn in his chest. Sick? Now? Damn it!
Well, a cold wasn’t so bad.
Then again, a cold could make a man fuzzy-headed enough to impair judgment, and a man working alone and trying to make decisions about the resonance of bridges that connected one piece of Ephemera with another couldn’t afford to have his judgment impaired.
Nothing he could do about this footbridge, so he would check out the other bridge he sensed was nearby and then rest for a day or two.
Where to go for that rest? Ah, that was the question. If he went back to Aurora, he could stay in his own cottage, using his illness as an excuse not to socialize. He’d get sympathy—and plenty of food—from his mother and Lynnea, Sebastian’s wife. Food and sympathy and quiet when he didn’t want company.
Or he could go back to the guesthouse in Sanctuary. There would be food and sympathy there too. But there was also a chance Glorianna would be visiting Sanctuary, and he wasn’t ready to see her again—especially if he looked into her green eyes and saw Belladonna looking back at him.
She scared him now in ways she never had before, and he didn’t know what to do about that.
Aurora, then. Or maybe the Den. Sebastian would let him use the room the Justice Maker still kept at the bordello and wouldn’t be inclined to fuss over him.
First he would check out the other bridge. It wasn’t in his notebook, so it wasn’t a bridge he had made. Which meant another Bridge had created a means of reaching Nadia’s landscapes, and anyone who could reach Nadia’s landscapes had the potential of reaching Glorianna’s.
He coughed again and felt the congestion in his chest break. He bent over and spat out phlegm. When he straightened, he had to wait for the dizziness to pass.
He’d been pushing too hard. Too little food, too little rest. Feeling too stubborn to return home after getting soaked during a storm last week. The urgency to check all the bridges that connected to his family’s landscapes was of his own making, an excuse to avoid the very people his diligence helped protect. He kept pushing himself because he was angry with Michael and Glorianna and even with Sebastian, and his own feelings resonating through Ephemera’s currents of power had come back to bite him in the ass—or in the chest—when a summer shower had turned into a cold storm.
“One more bridge,” he said, his voice crackling. He turned toward the spot where he’d left his little island imposed over this landscape and wondered if it would be there. It drifted every time he left it to inspect a bridge. Never far, but the certainty of the island never being more than a step away when he needed it had been a safety line when he worked alone in the dark landscapes.
He didn’t have that certainty anymore. He could make a one-shot bridge out of a small stone and get home if he found himself in a dangerous situation, but that wasn’t the same.
He felt the island’s resonance and knew he was almost beside it. As his fingers brushed against one of the trees, someone hailed him. He lowered his hand and turned, still only a step away from safety.
“Guardians and Guides,” the young man said as he hurried up to Lee. “Are you a Bridge? I haven’t seen another of us since the School.…” He trailed off.
“Since the Eater of the World destroyed the Landscapers’ and Bridges’ Schools.” Lee studied the stranger. Maybe old enough to have finished his training. “I’m Lee.” No reason to hide it or deny it.
“I’m Mason, but mostly I go by Mace. I guess you escaped too?”
“I wasn’t at the School when the Eater attacked.”
“Me neither,” Mace said. “I was working with one of the instructors, and the resonance of the bridge just changed to resonate with a dark landscape. My instructor thought I’d done something, so after he stabilized the bridge, he crossed over to make sure it still connected the landscapes it was supposed to, which included access back to the School. As soon as he stepped off the bridge and disappeared into another landscape, I started across.” Mace swallowed hard. “I think I heard him scream. I think I did. Next thing I remember is running until I came to another bridge. I ran across that one.”
“Where did you end up?” Lee asked.
“Not sure. Wasn’t anyplace I knew. I’ve been wandering since then. Finally reached this landscape a couple of days ago.” Mace looked around. “First place I’ve been in a while that looks close to home.”
Why don’t I believe him? Lee thought. What is i
t about his story that doesn’t feel true? “So you’ve been wandering. I know parts of this landscape fairly well. You must have been on the other side of that rise. I would have seen you sooner otherwise. Why didn’t you head for the other bridge? It would have been closer.”
Mace shrugged. He continued to look around, but there was less innocence in his eyes now. “I was hoping to find a village or even a farmhouse.” His eyes widened. “Guardians. Do you think this is one of Belladonna’s landscapes?”
False note in the voice. Calculation in the eyes.
“You’re not even close,” Lee lied, turning his voice into a slap. “Can’t you feel the difference between a dark landscape and a daylight one?”
Mace hunched his shoulders and looked embarrassed. “Sure, I can. It’s just…Well, wouldn’t you want to see Belladonna?”
“I’ve seen her.” Remembering the pure malevolence that sometimes filled his sister’s eyes since her return from the landscape that caged the Eater of the World, Lee shuddered. “Trust me. You don’t want to.”
“I think I do,” Mace said. “I’ve never seen a Dark Guide.…”
“She’s not a Dark Guide!” Lee snapped. Turning away from the footbridge that could bring Mace to one of Glorianna’s landscapes, Lee headed for the other bridge.
Like the Guardians of the Light and the Guides of the Heart who, long ago, were created as a response to human hearts crying out for help and guidance, the Dark Guides had been manifested by Ephemera in response to the darkness that dwells within the human heart. Glorianna wasn’t just a Landscaper; she was a true Guide of the Heart. Even if Belladonna reveled in dark emotions, she was still one half of Glorianna Belladonna and couldn’t change into a Dark Guide. Nothing and no one could change into a Dark Guide. Not even the wizards who were descended from them but weren’t purebloods.
Are you sure? a sly voice whispered in his mind. Are you really sure? She’s done so many things the rest of you can’t do. Would you be afraid of her if you were sure?
“Do you mind if I walk along with you?” Mace asked, hurrying to catch up to him. “It’s been a while since I’ve had another Bridge to talk to.”
“Suit yourself,” Lee replied. “I’m going to check out that other bridge and see if I can determine who made it and what landscapes are connected by it.”
“You can do that? Tell who made a bridge?”
Can’t you? Too many questions about this man and none of the right answers. “Sometimes I can recognize the resonance of a Bridge I know.” And he wondered if that unknown bridge would resonate with Mace.
“That’s interesting,” Mace said.
Lee started coughing again. He wished he hadn’t responded to that hail, wished he’d stepped onto the island and gone back to Sanctuary, or at least been standing on safe ground while he observed the man. Now that he’d spoken to Mace, he didn’t want to leave the other Bridge alone in one of Nadia’s landscapes.
“You don’t sound good,” Mace said. “You sure you’re up to more walking?”
Lee struggled to draw in the air he needed without starting another coughing fit. “Do you see a village or farmhouse where I could ask for shelter?”
“No.”
“Then I’m going on to the next bridge to see if it will lead to a place where I can stay for a few days.”
“What if we cross over into one of Belladonna’s landscapes?”
“We hope whoever finds us doesn’t want to eat us.”
Mace didn’t say another thing all the way to the next bridge.
Lee saw the men clustered around a small fire near the bridge and slowed down. The other reason he wanted to buy some time before getting closer was walking beside him.
While the majority of people weren’t sensitive enough to Ephemera to notice such things, a landscape did hold the signature resonance of the Landscaper who kept it balanced, and a bridge held the signature resonance of the Bridge who created it. He was close enough to that other bridge now to be certain that it connected to a landscape he didn’t know—and that Mace had been the one who created it.
Did the other man cross my path by chance? Lee wondered. Or had it been Mace’s intention all along to get me close to this bridge and these men? He wasn’t carrying a pack because he’d left it on the island. Mace wasn’t carrying anything either, and if the man had been wandering as he’d said, he should have picked up a water skin and some kind of pack that would fit a change of clothes and a day’s worth of food.
Unless Mace had left his gear at a camp.
“Maybe they’ll share their fire and a bit of food,” Mace said, raising a hand in greeting.
“Don’t call attention to yourself,” Lee said as he slipped a hand into his trouser pocket. “Don’t you remember any of your training? Those are rough-looking men. I didn’t get the impression you knew much about this landscape, so we don’t have anything between us worth stealing and no information to trade.”
“Don’t you know this landscape?” Mace asked.
“Like I said, I know parts of it, but not this area,” he lied. His fingers curled around three smooth stones in his pocket. Infusing the power of a Bridge into the stones, he could create one-shot bridges that would take a person to a specific landscape—if the person resonated with that landscape. Or he could make resonating bridges from the one-shots, which would send a person to one of the landscapes that resonated with that person’s heart.
Something about the way those men stood up and watched him and Mace made Lee wonder how they had been able to reach one of Nadia’s daylight landscapes in the first place.
He took a step to the side, putting a little distance between himself and Mace as he rubbed the stones and began turning them into resonating bridges.
“What’s wrong? They might be able to help us.” Mace’s face held an expression of hurt puzzlement.
The expression was perfect. Too bad it didn’t match the look in Mace’s eyes.
“Help us do what?” Lee asked. Holding the stones, he pulled his hand out of his pocket. His other hand reached back for his island. For a moment, his fingers brushed against the bark of one of the trees that grew near the path. Then he felt nothing.
Come on, he thought as he shifted another step away from Mace, who now watched him with predatory interest. Come on. Why aren’t you there?
The men were moving toward them, and two of them…Oh, he’d seen enough of them in his life to recognize that resonance.
“You bastard,” Lee said softly. “You’re working for the wizards? Don’t you know what they are, who most of them serve?”
“They’re going to save Ephemera,” Mace said. “We’re going to save Ephemera. And you’re going to help us.”
Lee glanced at the men approaching too fast. Guardians and Guides! Why couldn’t he find the island? All he needed to do was stay free long enough to take that step. Then he would be out of reach and could shift the island back to Sanctuary. But the island kept fading, as if it couldn’t be here long enough to hold him.
“What did they offer you?” he asked, stalling for time.
“I’m going to be the wizards’ personal Bridge,” Mace said. “They know about places you haven’t imagined, but I’ve seen those places. I’m going to be the most important person in the world. After the wizards, of course.”
“What about the Dark Guides?” Lee took another step back. “Don’t you think they’re important?”
“Belladonna is the only Dark Guide,” Mace said earnestly. “And once she’s destroyed…” He shrugged and gave Lee a happy-child smile.
He’s insane, Lee thought. Or else he’s controlled enough to be a danger to everyone Glorianna tried to protect from the wizards and the Dark Guides. If he finds a way to help those bastards reach Sanctuary and the Places of Light…
The Warrior of Light must drink from the Dark Cup. What Glorianna had become in the dark landscape she had created to hold the Eater of the World had changed her. He couldn’t accept the woman who
came back because she had made that terrible place from the darkest parts of her own heart—and he still saw that darkness when he looked into Belladonna’s eyes. But she was still his sister, and he still loved her, and this he could do for her and their mother.
Guardians of the Light and Guides of the Heart, keep my family safe.
Clenching the three stones that just needed to connect with another person to become active, resonating bridges, Lee held out his other hand to Mace and said urgently, “Take my hand. The magic that will take us to one of Belladonna’s landscapes lasts only a moment.”
If Mace had been in his right mind, the words would have made no sense. But he held out his hand without hesitation or question. Grabbing Mace’s hand, Lee ran toward the men, his chest and lungs burning.
I reject all that is Belladonna. I deny all that is Glorianna. I have no place in her landscapes. I do not belong to any place that resonates with her. I WANT NO PART OF HER!
A moment of pure anger, of truth unfettered by a lifetime of love.
Lee felt something snap inside him, felt the change in the resonance of his own heart. Felt the pain of losing something he had counted on existing forever.
He slammed into the other men, knocking two of them down and yanking Mace off his feet to add to the tangle. The other men fell on him, and the two wizards were grabbing and yelling, “Don’t kill him!”
Ephemera, take me to the landscape farthest from this place. And take these hearts with me.
He wasn’t a Landscaper and had no reason to believe Ephemera would listen to him the way it listened to Glorianna or Michael. But as the wizards grabbed him, Lee opened his hand, and the three stones that were now resonating bridges fell into the tangle of bodies and limbs.
Then he screamed as Ephemera pulled them all into a whirlwind as it tried to find a place that resonated with all their conflicting hearts.