“How could we possibly be on Titaan?” Bannor muttered. He looked at Sarai whose gaze remained on Wren. “I mean, the moons, the ocean, everything—it’s all wrong.”
Sarai shook her head. She picked up a rock and stared at it. “I’ve looked into these stones a hundred times, I never saw this. The merging has—”
Bannor imagined what she saw. The way her throat tightened made him think of when he’d looked through Wren’s eyes and saw the world broken into its myriad tiny components. If Sarai had gained even a small portion of Wren’s ability to see it would be enthralling.
“Has?” he prompted Sarai.
She broke her gaze away from the rock and met his eyes. “I could sense the stone before. Feel it. Now that I can see it too, it does feel as though it came from home.”
Bannor shook his head. He hoped Wren wasn’t inferring that Titaan itself had been changed. That was insane; millions wiped away, kingdoms gone into nothingness. No, she didn’t mean that.
The savant sat, legs straight out in front, hands in her lap as if verifying she still possessed all of her fingers and toes.
The silence went on.
Finally, Bannor couldn’t hold back any longer. “Wren, tell us. It can’t be from Titaan, can it?”
Wren sighed and stood. Folding her arms, she paced along side the pond. “The evidence tells me it’s Titaan. There are also the questions I’ve asked myself since we arrived. How did Nystruul find us so quickly? The sky and seas look different from home, but why are all the plants and animals the same? Those spear-blossoms Sarai picked, a rare flower that happens to grow here too? They also grow near where we fought Mazerak. Coincidence? I wonder.”
“Then how did I get cut off from the stone?” Sarai asked, looking perplexed.
The savant’s face lit up and she brandished a finger in the air. “That’s another thing, touching your power now, I see that it can’t be cut off by distance.” She picked up a rock and met Sarai’s gaze. “The power had to be interfered with by great magic. Since you kept attacking Nystruul, we eliminate him as a source. It wasn’t me. So, Bannor is the only one left.”
“Me?” Bannor said. “Why would I do that?”
“I brought us here, not you; different mages, different designs. It’s what convinces me this is Titaan.”
“I’m not following,” Sarai said.
Wren sighed. “The power returned when you needed it, right?”
“Yes, so?”
“Twice as strong as before?”
“Maybe three times—what’s your point?”
“Simple, if distance doesn’t affect its strength.” She gestured to the damaged clearing. “The only way it can change is when its source alters.”
“But you just said—” Bannor started but Wren cut in.
“When its source changes, Bannor. You created her connection to stone, your Nola regulates it. That must mean there’s more of your power available than before.”
“I locked it off yesterday!” Bannor said loudly.
Wren nodded. “Sure did.” She said it as if it explained something.
“I’m lost, Wren,” Sarai said, smoothing her hair. “How do you get from that to the idea we’re on Titaan?”
Wren made a clucking sound with her tongue. She gestured to Bannor. “He shut off the Garmtur and shortly afterward you started to get more coherent. Coincidence? I don’t think so. However, you started to get overpowered again. It suggests that Bannor’s magic is tied to your stone power.”
Bannor rubbed his face. “I’m no good at mysteries.”
Wren made an expansive gesture. “It’s all around us!” She thrust the rock she’d been holding at him. “This is the construct. It’s laced with the magic of the Garmtur. You, or rather I as you, did interfere with her stone power. The extra magic in the stone made it unworkable until she became attuned to it again. Then her powers redoubled because she was using not only the power you gave her, but all your energy running through the rocks as well!”
Bannor’s stomach knotted. “Why is my magic in everything? Did I destroy Titaan?”
Wren stared slack-jawed as if the idea stunned her. “No, of course not.”
Relief washed through him. He sighed. Thank Odin.
Wren continued. “Unguided magic takes the easiest route. It works with the materials at hand. What’s around us is nothing more than an illusion.”
This only confused Bannor more. How could it be an illusion? It made no sense.
Sarai put hands on hips. “An illusion?”
Wren made a staying gesture. “Not an intangible illusion; a façade.” She looked hard at Bannor. “A window; we’re in a bubble of Bannor’s power.”
“And Nystruul?” Sarai prompted.
“There’s likely a doorway where we left,” Wren answered unperturbed. “He found it and forced his way in.”
Bannor threaded his fingers and put aside his doubts. “If you’re right, and we’re on Titaan, does it make getting home any easier?”
“Easier?” Wren rubbed her chin. “It makes it more likely.”
Sarai growled. “You said we were home.”
“Yes—I did. Mother and I once discussed something similar to this. The wizards call it something like ‘tangential planes in coexisting space’. Powerful mages use it to secure areas. Simply said, it’s a magic weave that allows an area to have a second interpretation; an ocean in place of mountains for example.” Wren brought the fingertips of her hands together until they touched then moved her fingers until they meshed.
She continued. Her voice took on a different quality. It sounded older and more resonant as if she were mimicking the words of another. “The copy overlaps the first space but is distorted to match how the weaver wants it perceived. Things entering the weave take on a ‘resonance’. The resonance allows them to interact with the interpretation. Armed with a weave key a person can step in and out of the interpretation but anything without the resonance can’t see or sense the area. What’s fascinating is the space’s size is only limited by the breadth of the interpretation. A century ago, northeast of Blackstar, mages hid entire kingdoms. That’s why they called them the spectral lands.”
Sarai brightened. “Finally—something I’ve heard of—they’re called ghost realms. My father has a vault with no doors that’s accessed like that. No one has ever broken into it.”
Bannor held up his hands. “I’m tired of theory. If it’s true, what do we do?”
“We,” Wren said. “Return to spot where we first appeared and look for a gate. If we can see it, we might find a way to access it.”
“Didn’t you say we needed a key to move in and out.”
She nodded. “We do. That’s the hard part.”
* * *
Most of my peers choose not to show themselves openly among mortal creatures, citing various reasons that all come down to fear—fear of breaking something, fear of hurting, worship, fear fear fear—have they forgotten that they are immortals? I have not. I walk where I will—let those of the pantheons frown at my actions like the frightened sheep they obviously must be…
—From the Dedriad, ‘musings of an immortal’.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
« ^ »
Bannor walked through the forest, his legs shaking. Could leaving this place be as simple as stepping out a door? He doubted it. Wren ranged ahead, periodically vanishing behind the larger trees. Sarai walked next to him silvery hair fanning in the breeze. Though she’d been under a great deal of pressure, Sarai continued to cope, in many ways better than himself.
He studied her composed face, violet eyes trained on Wren’s back. He sensed a lot of anger between she and Wren remained unresolved. The feelings were only exacerbated by the way Wren chose to cure Sarai’s power problem. No doubt, Sarai felt violated by Wren forcibly taking part of her power.
Bannor also knew that Sarai saw Wren differently now. Wren, intentionally or not, opened herself to Sarai in new ways. That knowledge had so
ftened Sarai’s attitude, though she appeared to resent knowing.
Sarai had proven to be a hard woman, steely and vicious in ways he never imagined. His own shortsightedness amazed him. Did he really think that a woman five centuries old would be as simple as one of only twenty summers? Pure hopeful lunacy, what he mistook for simplicity was focus, someone mature and certain of her place in life.
Did he really want simplicity? For a while, Sarai had been childishly simple and completely devoted. That had been more frightening than any of her recent mercurial moods. His own ambivalence disturbed him more than anything. Through everything, Sarai remained constant. He did all the worrying and reconsideration.
They left the trees for the hem of open grass and hillocks that marked the nearness of the ocean. Bannor heard the rumble of the waves and the scent of salt grew gradually stronger. Wren continued up to the cliff edge that overlooked the sapphire beach and waves of frothing black water.
He wiped the sweat off his brow and glanced up at the sun high in the sky. They would have ample time to look around and recover anything they left behind like the rope made from Irodee’s hair that remained tied to the cliff.
Wren stopped at the edge and looked down. She glanced back as Bannor and Sarai approached. A glint shone in Wren’s eyes. She looked down the cliff again and grinned.
Bannor felt uneasy, when Wren smiled like that it usually meant something bad.
“Well guys, I’ll see you at the bottom.” She jumped off, arms spread and back arched.
“Odin’s breath!” What could she be thinking? Why did she do that? Bannor rushed to the edge. Wren managed two somersaults before she hit the beach feet first.
A brilliant blue flash exploded around the savant, causing her to be lost from sight for a moment. Bannor blinked, then watched as the savant stepped out of small crater in the sand. She waved.
“Nola wielding show off,” Sarai muttered standing next to him.
Bannor’s heart still beat fast and he frowned down at the savant even though he knew she couldn’t see his expression. He should know better than to worry about her.
“Now, how do we get down?” He peered off the forty odd paces of vertical drop.
“Easy,” Sarai answered. She held out her hand.
Bannor stared at her. The last time she took his hand in a similar situation, she dragged him through a rock face. Memories of the black void beneath the cliff made him go cold inside.
Sarai raised an eyebrow and frowned. “What, don’t you trust me?”
He sighed. “Yes—as long as we’re not walking through the stone again.”
She appeared to consider his words. That had happened when she’d been under the power’s influence. He knew her recall of that time was hazy. “Oh—that.” She relaxed, looking apologetic. She studied him and spoke slow. “No—we don’t have to do it that way. Put your arm around my waist.”
Bannor did. He held on tight glancing down to the beach and the water.
Sarai looked over the edge too. She took his free hand with her left. “Try to stand straight and balanced, don’t move around too much.”
He cleared his throat. His heart beat faster. “Like a mountain, Little Star.”
She smiled. “Good, here we go.”
Closing her eyes, Sarai aimed her free hand at the ground, fingers spread. At first nothing happened, then a glow surrounded her hand. Bannor held his breath as the rock underfoot trembled. He heard a thick slopping sound, like that of a mudslide. He didn’t realize what was happening until he heard the rock behind them creak. An area a pace around them had separated from the cliff and was now offset downward. The distance grew. It looked as if they were standing on a platform. The stone beneath shifted out of the way. As they dropped, the notch in the cliff behind them appeared to grow taller.
Teeth clenched and brow furrowed Sarai continued the process. The groaning and creaking of the shifting rock underfoot sounded eerie. Bannor swallowed, holding in his amazement, afraid that he might disrupt Sarai’s concentration. He didn’t know how precarious of a position they were in, but he imagined the stone plate canting forward and dumping them off.
The rumbling descent seemed to take forever, but Bannor knew it couldn’t have taken that long because he didn’t take a breath the entire time. The falling stopped about three paces from the level of the beach. The displaced rock formed a huge bulge at the base of the cliff that steamed and groaned.
Sarai opened her eyes and smiled at him. He saw the strain in her face. “Here we are.”
He gave her a kiss. “Here, indeed.” He glanced down and noticed Wren standing on the beach below arms folded.
When Bannor reached down to climb off their perch, he found the rock too hot to touch. “I’ll jump down.”
At her nod, he leaped down to the sand by Wren. Sarai climbed down, unbothered by the rock’s heat. She stepped over, took his hand, and gave Wren an arch look.
The savant grinned. “Showoff.”
They searched the beach until Bannor located the spot he felt must be the area where they first appeared in this place. The tides and rain had removed signs that might have assisted in finding the exact spot. Bannor’s memory of first awakening was fuzzy, and the rugged shoreline was a jumble of planes and angles that all blended together after a long study. Neither he nor Sarai had paid attention to the passage of time, so neither could judge the locale’s distance from the lightning scarred area where they battled Nystruul.
“You and Sarai were out of my sight when I woke up,” Bannor said. He looked down at the sapphire colored sand then out to the ocean. “I walked about twenty paces down to the edge of the water.” When the black water lapped around his boots, he turned and faced the cliff. “You two were on the far side of an outcrop like that one.” He pointed to the ridge jutting from the cliff. “I remember thinking it was the same spot where you pushed me off in your dream.”
Wren stood by the outcrop, arms folded looking up the cliff. Sarai went and stood where he pointed. She peered around, silvery hair spilling across her face. After a long breath, she swept her hair back and shook her head.
“It looks right,” Sarai said. “I’m not sure, though.”
“The glade, huh?” Wren asked Bannor. “The place where you saw Grahm and I?”
Bannor nodded.
“I know that spot well, but only from the top. One way to check. I’ll be back.” Wren turned and started climbing the cliff.
He started to ask how long they should wait until he saw how fast the savant climbed. She traversed the vertical rock as fast as a man could walk. Her hands and feet seemed to stick to the stone like spider’s feet.
Sarai walked over a stood by him and craned her neck up to follow Wren’s progress. “She really is an exhibitionist, you know.”
Bannor shrugged. “There are worse things she could be. Why do you feel so threatened by her anyway?”
“Threatened?” Sarai’s voice rose a notch. “Don’t be silly.”
He looked at his mate askance. He put an arm around her waist and tugged her to him. Sarai let him pull her close, but kept her arms folded.
“You don’t like it that I admire her.”
She snorted. “Nothing but a selfish, conniving, little trollop. I don’t care how skilled she is. I can smell a traitor a block away.”
“A traitor?” Bannor frowned.
“Let’s just see that blonde witch try and separate us.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She’s a schemer, Bannor. She didn’t plan to take ‘no’ for an answer and still doesn’t. If I insisted on dragging you away, she wrote in her book she was considering separating us.”
“Sarai, you can’t damn somebody for what they think.”
She snorted again and banged the back of her head against his chest. “Watch me.”
Wren had reached the top and waved back. She disappeared for a short time then reappeared. She leaped from the cliff and landed in a crackle of energ
y that blackened the sand. Even after seeing it the first time it scared him. Wren appeared to enjoy it.
“This is it,” she reported with a smile. Wren literally glowed. Since their trip down the cliff the savant had been steadily more cheerful. Bannor wondered if it wasn’t partly to irritate Sarai. The more jovial Wren became, the more his mate looked ready to throttle her.
“Now what?”
“Look.”
“For what?”
Wren sighed and shook her head. “A pattern. If anyone can see it, it’ll be you.”
His stomach tightened. He knew better than to protest. This was the only lead they had in getting out. He closed his eyes and remembered how it felt to see the patterns. He opened his eyes slowly, willing the patterns to be there. He did not look at the cliff but instead at Sarai. At first he saw nothing, then tendrils of ghostly yellow and white began appearing in his vision. Whirls that danced and spun in an aura around her body.
Bannor held his breath. Every time he saw the beauty of Sarai lit up with elemental power; he couldn’t envision her any other way. He gave her a squeeze and looked at the cliff.
He shielded his eyes from the brilliance that suddenly assaulted his eyes. His heart hammered. There really was something there. A portal! A way out. It looked like a million rainbow colored wagon wheels spinning down into a pinpoint. “It’s here!” Bannor whooped. He narrowed his eyes to slits against the glare. It made his head ache to look at it. “About three paces to your left and two toward the cliff!”
Wren made fist. “Yes!” She walked toward where he said. “Here?”
“No, to your left. More. Forward. Right there. You’re right in the middle of it!”
Wren scratched a circle in the sand with her boot. Bannor closed his eyes again to clear his vision of pattern sight. What once appeared like a chaotic miasma of light looked like simple air again.
He let out a breath. “There really is something there. I can’t believe it. I thought—” He stopped himself.
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