‘‘Goblins?’’ asked Locklear.
‘‘We’re seeing mostly goblins and Quegan mercenaries. I think most of the moredhel went south with Delekhan or whoever is leading that detachment.’’
James was silent a moment, then said, ‘‘Locklear, how’s your Quegan?’’
Locklear said, ‘‘Pretty fair. How’s yours?’’
‘‘Not as good as yours,’’ said James. ‘‘I didn’t grow up in a port town like you did.’’
‘‘What’s Krondor? Landlocked?’’ asked the younger squire.
‘‘You don’t see many Quegan traders in the sewer, is my point.’’
‘‘Oh,’’ said Locklear. ‘‘Why?’’
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‘‘Just that I don’t think we were likely to run into too many goblins or dark elves who spoke Quegan up at Northwarden, but I’m willing to bet you a good meal we’re going to find some of those damn Quegans around here.’’
‘‘You’re not thinking of doing the ‘we Quegan mercenaries’
thing again, are you?’’ said Locklear with a look of concern on his face. ‘‘That worked fine when we were lying to trolls, but if there are some real mercenaries here . . . I don’t speak it well enough to fool a Quegan.’’
‘‘We’ll worry about that problem if we come to it,’’ said James.
Locklear rolled his eyes upward, and said, ‘‘Great.’’
James said, ‘‘Martin, instead of trying to mount an attack, why don’t you chase us into the enemy’s arms?’’
Martin raised an eyebrow in curiosity. ‘‘Are you sure?’’
‘‘No, but let’s do it anyway,’’ said James with a grin.
As the sun set in the west, the sound of men running and shouting in Quegan for help reached the mercenaries at the bridge. Three men, two young and one old, raced for the bridge, and in the distance pursuing soldiers were evident in the haze.
James was first to reach the bridge, out of breath and looking desperate. He pointed, and, in Quegan, shouted, ‘‘Attack!’’
The second young man said, ‘‘Hold this bridge! We’ll get help!’’
The mercenary leader turned to the troll who commanded his company and was about to ask what to do when an arrow arched overhead, landing nearby. Ducking behind the scant shelter afforded by the sides of the old stone bridge, he turned his attention to the attacking elves as the three who carried the warning ran for help.
James kept going and looked over his shoulder. Martin and the elves were doing their best to convince those at the bridge there was a major offensive being launched at them.
James halted and motioned for Locklear to stop, allowing Patrus to catch up. The old man was clearly winded, and James asked, ‘‘You all right?’’
Patrus nodded. ‘‘Not quite as fast as I once was. Give me a 338
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moment, then let’s do it again.’’ He smiled his evil smile. They paused while Patrus caught his breath, then he nodded and they hurried off.
They were running toward where they thought the rift machine was hidden, in a small depression between two sheltering hills. A group of moredhel ran toward them, and Locklear shouted in Quegan, ‘‘The bridge is under attack!’’
The leader was a tall moredhel, with a set of shoulders to match Gorath’s. He wore a heavy fur jacket which left his massive chest uncovered, and he shouted, ‘‘I don’t speak your Quegan dog’s tongue.’’
James paused, and took a deep breath. ‘‘I speak the King’s Tongue,’’ he replied, trying to accent his words. ‘‘The bridge is under attack. The trolls sent us for reinforcements.’’
‘‘Attack?’’ He turned to one of his warriors and sent him toward the bridge. ‘‘I am Moraeulf, son of Delekhan and second-in-command to my father. I command here while Delekhan travels to Sethanon. Whom do you serve?’’
Locklear glanced at James, and James said, ‘‘We serve—’’
‘‘Tell him about the elves!’’ shouted Locklear, interrupting James as they had rehearsed.
‘‘Elves?’’ said Moraeulf. ‘‘What is this of elves?’’
‘‘And a tall human with a bow, able to hit a man at a thousand yards, is with them,’’ said James.
‘‘Longbow!’’ said Moraeulf. ‘‘It can be only Longbow. His death will bring me honor.’’
James said, ‘‘What did he call the other?’’
‘‘Calin, I think,’’ said Locklear.
‘‘The Prince of Elvandar is here!’’ he shouted, grabbing James by the shirt and easily lifting him off the ground.
‘‘That’s the name,’’ said James, not having to work to look fearful. ‘‘Prince Calin, is what he said.’’
‘‘Call my guards! We go to kill the eledhel prince and his human friend! I shall eat their hearts!’’ shouted Moraeulf, dropping James. ‘‘Where are they?’’
‘‘At the bridge to the west,’’ said James, sitting in the dirt.
The six moredhel ran toward the bridge, and James shouted after, ‘‘I’ll send the rest after you!’’
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Locklear helped him to his feet, and said to James, ‘‘I can’t believe that worked.’’
‘‘It will only work until that hothead gets tired of chasing Longbow and the elves through the wood. I guess we have maybe a half hour. Let’s go.’’
James again ran through the trees, and when he saw another band of moredhel guards near a clearing, he shouted, ‘‘Moraeulf said to come to the western bridge!’’
The leader of the moredhel, an older-looking veteran, said,
‘‘We are to guard this machine.’’ He pointed to the rift machine, and James realized he was standing in front of it. In the evening gloom and among the trees he would have walked past it had he not been drawn to the guards.
‘‘Moraeulf said we should guard it,’’ said Locklear.
The warrior cast a skeptical glance at him, but James said,
‘‘He told us to tell you that we Quegan dogs are fit enough to guard the machine; you must come to hunt eledhel. Prince Calin and Martin Longbow attack the western bridge.’’
The effect was instantaneous. The moredhel dashed off to the west.
Standing next to the machine, James said, ‘‘I wonder if Calin knows of the high regard in which his dark cousins hold him?’’
‘‘I think he’s been around long enough to have some idea,’’
said Locklear. Glancing at Patrus, he asked, ‘‘Can you stop this thing?’’
As he asked the question, a squad of six moredhel appeared through the gate, walking down the ramp. James instantly took on a commanding manner, and said, ‘‘We are being attacked in the west! Go support Moraeulf!’’
They hurried off in the direction he pointed, and Locklear said, ‘‘One of these days you’re going to run into a moredhel chieftain who just isn’t going to believe you.’’
Patrus said, ‘‘Let me look at this thing.’’ He walked around the machine, a platform only six feet deep and ten feet across.
Two men could walk through it comfortably side by side, but no more. ‘‘I see they had to bring a lot of stuff here to build this,’’ said the old magician. ‘‘That’s why it’s so small.’’
James said, ‘‘The one the Tsurani used in the Riftwar was 340
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easily six or eight times as big, from what Arutha told me.
They could bring wagons through it.’’
‘‘This could handle a small cart, maybe,’’ said the magician.
‘‘Well, let’s see what I can do to turn it off.’’
He found several devices carved in the wooden pillar closest to him. They were inset with gems. He ran his hand over them top to bottom. When he got to the one second to the bottom, a spark shot out, knocking him over. As James helped him back to his feet, Patrus said, ‘‘Well, I learned something.’’
&n
bsp; ‘‘What?’’ asked Locklear.
‘‘Not to touch that damn crystal again.’’
He walked around the machine and as he returned to where James was, another six moredhel appeared. James again instructed them to find Moraeulf, and they did as he instructed.
‘‘Can you do this?’’ asked Locklear. ‘‘Maybe we can set fire to it.’’
‘‘That might do it,’’ said the old magician. Then his voice lowered, and he added, ‘‘But I doubt it. Magic like this doesn’t burn easy. Give me a few minutes, boy, and let me study this thing.’’
James and Locklear looked at one another and both silently echoed the other’s thoughts: they might not have a few minutes to give.
Pug took a deep breath, and said, ‘‘Owyn, you’re going to have to help me again. My powers are coming back, but I can’t rely on them right now to take us to Sethanon. You will have to transport us there.’’
‘‘Me?’’ objected Owyn. ‘‘I don’t know how.’’
‘‘Yes, you do,’’ said Pug. ‘‘Much of what I know, you know.
You just don’t realize it yet. Now, relax and let me guide you.’’
He held out a metal orb.
Since having Gamina’s mind touch to link them, Pug was able to reach Owyn and help him focus his magic. ‘‘You have to reach out. Sethanon is out . . . there,’’ he said softly while Gorath watched.
Pug almost whispered, ‘‘You have to reach out and—’’
Suddenly Pug’s eyes widened. ‘‘The rift! I can feel it!’’
Gorath said, ‘‘Where?’’
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‘‘Somewhere near Sethanon! That is where Makala and the others must be operating.’’
‘‘Let us go there!’’ said Gorath. ‘‘If Delekhan and his allies are there, that is where I must go.’’
Pug nodded and gripped Owyn’s shoulders. ‘‘Close your eyes and let me guide you. This is just like stepping through a door.’’
Owyn did as he was asked, and in his mind’s eye he saw the doorway. He felt Gorath’s hand rest atop Pug’s as mentally he stepped through the door.
And fell through the void.
Then landed unceremoniously on the ground. Looking up, they saw James turn to Patrus, and say, ‘‘How did you do that?’’
James held out his hand to Owyn and Pug, and Locklear did the same for Gorath. James said, ‘‘If there was ever a more propitious entrance, I’ve never heard of it. You are welcome.’’
‘‘Thank you, James,’’ said Pug. He glanced at Patrus and said, ‘‘Who is this?’’
‘‘Name’s Patrus,’’ said the old magician, walking past Pug and studying the machine. ‘‘One side.’’
James said, ‘‘This is Pug.’’
‘‘I know,’’ said Patrus. ‘‘Saw him from a distance once. Came to Timons looking for magicians for his Academy. Hello, Owyn.’’
‘‘Hello, Patrus. How did you get here?’’
‘‘Long story.’’
Another party of moredhel appeared in the rift machine and James shouted, ‘‘Elves are attacking Moreaulf to the west! Go aid him!’’
The moredhel were disoriented by the passage and one glanced from James to Gorath. Gorath shouted, ‘‘You heard him! Run!’’
The moredhel ran.
‘‘They’re coming through at about five-minute intervals,’’
said James. ‘‘No more than a half dozen at a time.’’
‘‘That’s still seventy an hour,’’ said Locklear, ‘‘and Arutha is at least a day away. Martin and some elves are keeping things lively to the west of here, and Gardan is coming from 342
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the north, but unless we close this thing down, we’re going to have a thousand or more moredhel here by this time tomorrow.’’
Gorath asked, ‘‘Where is Delekhan?’’
‘‘He and his honor guard are already on their way to Sethanon,’’ said James, ‘‘according to his son.’’
Gorath said, ‘‘We must go there!’’
‘‘First we must stop this machine,’’ said James.
Pug said, ‘‘I can help, but I am without power to do it by myself.’’
Owyn asked, ‘‘What do I do?’’
Patrus jumped up on the platform, and said, ‘‘You stand there and keep a safe distance, boy.’’
Pug asked, ‘‘What are you doing?’’
‘‘You know what has to be done, magician. This sort of thing can’t be done gracefully or without risk.’’ He smiled at Owyn and said, ‘‘Pay attention to him, boy. He knows a thing or two.’’ Then he jumped into the gate.
‘‘That’s the wrong way!’’ shouted Pug.
But rather than rebound as Pug expected, Patrus seemed to slowly enter into the gap between the poles of the machine.
His staff began to glow brightly, and, with a wild-eyed determination, he shouted, ‘‘You know what you must do, boy! One of us must do this, and I’m old and near the end, anyway.
Do it!’’
Pug gripped Owyn hard on the shoulder, and said, ‘‘Give him your strength!’’
Owyn asked, ‘‘What?’’
‘‘He can only close the rift from within! Give him your strength! Make it quick!’’
Owyn closed his eyes and let Pug guide him once more. He raised his hand and a flow of energy ran down his arm and out his fingers and struck the old magician as he hung halfway in the gate. Patrus shouted; it was unclear if it was a scream of pain or a yell of triumph. Then the rift blinked out of existence, and a roar of wind exploded through the poles, knocking them all to the earth.
James was the first back on his feet, looking around.
‘‘Where’d he go?’’
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Pug shook his head. ‘‘He’s gone.’’
Owyn said, ‘‘Gone?’’
‘‘He knew what he was doing,’’ said Pug. ‘‘I once closed a rift from inside. I had the help of Macros the Black, and I barely survived.’’
Gorath said, ‘‘He died bravely.’’
Owyn closed his eyes and let the pain wash over him a moment. Patrus had been his first teacher and while he was a gruff old man with few endearing qualities, the boy respected and admired him. After a long moment, he sighed and stood up.
James said, ‘‘I don’t know how long it is before Moraeulf and the others return. But that wind that just blew through here had to alert someone.’’
Pug said, ‘‘We must leave anyway.’’
‘‘Which way?’’ said James. ‘‘I have no desire to try to work our way through the moredhel lines again. I’ve run out of clever ploys and misdirection.’’
Pug said, ‘‘We must go to Sethanon.’’ He looked at Locklear and James. ‘‘You know why, and soon the others will, too.’’
Gorath said, ‘‘If Delekhan is in Sethanon, then so must I be!’’
Pug said, ‘‘Form a circle.’’ They did and joined hands. ‘‘Put your mind at rest, Owyn, and I will again guide you.’’
Owyn did as he was bid and Pug led him mentally. It was getting easier for the young magician to do this, and he responded more quickly to Pug’s direction.
Suddenly they were somewhere else. They felt a sensation of movement, and displacement. ‘‘We are almost—’’
They struck a barrier of pain and even Gorath screamed in agony as they were repulsed from their destination. The powerful moredhel was the last to lose consciousness as he saw the others lying on the cold soil, stunned and twitching in pain. Then he fell into a mindless stupor.
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•
Retribution T HE GROUND WAS DAMP.
Pug rolled over on his elbow and saw that James and Locklear were still unconscious. Gorath was awake but disoriented. Owyn sat up, his head held between his hands.
‘‘What happened?’’ he groaned.
‘‘We hit some sort o
f barrier.’’ Pug closed his eyes as he felt the pain in his head dissipate.
James slowly regained consciousness. He sat up, blinked, and finally focused his vision. ‘‘Where are we?’’ he asked.
Pug stood and looked around. ‘‘We are in the old courtyard at Castle Sethanon.’’ He pointed toward the burned-out gatehouse of the abandoned keep, and said, ‘‘Directly below is our objective.’’
‘‘How do we get there?’’ asked Gorath.
‘‘We probe the boundaries of the barrier and find a place where we can get into the ancient tunnels below this city. They can’t have erected it over the entire warren.’’
‘‘Why not?’’ asked Owyn.
‘‘Because even six Tsurani Great Ones could not keep a barrier like that up and intact all day and all night. Makala doesn’t know I’ve escaped from Timirianya. So this barrier was put in place to keep anyone from surprising Makala. Which means his six magicians are taking turns keeping it in place. It must be small for them to do that.’’
Locklear said, ‘‘Sounds logical to me.’’ He stood up and groaned.
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‘‘If there’s one place that might connect with the ancient tunnels, it will be the lowest level of the abandoned keep. Let’s start looking there.’’
‘‘I’ll get something to make a torch,’’ said Gorath.
While they waited, Pug said to Owyn, ‘‘How do you feel?’’
‘‘Beat-up, tired, and angry. But otherwise fine. You?’’
Pug put his hands together and separated them by inches.
A blue spark leaped from one hand to the next. ‘‘I feel my powers returning, slowly. Perhaps this delay will serve us.’’
Lowering his voice, he said, ‘‘I don’t want the others to know, but if we’re facing seven Tsurani Great Ones, even at the height of my power, we’d be overmatched. We must trust stealth and surprise. If we can close in on any magician, engage him physically, we can prevent him from casting a spell.
‘‘Additionally, we have another advantage. The idea of being physically attacked is totally alien to the Great Ones, who view themselves as almost godlike in their power. They are so conditioned to having their word obeyed without hesitation, that if they attempt to command us rather than cast a spell at us, we gain advantage.’’
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