Wren put hands on hips. “You thought it was tripe?”
Sarai sniffed, apparently bored with the subject already. “So, you were right. We have a gate. What do we do for a key?”
Wren stood on the circle and shut her eyes. She held her fists at her sides. The savant’s body trembled with tension. When she opened her eyes again they looked glassy and unfocused. Wren’s face tightened. Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead.
“What’s she doing?” he asked. When he didn’t get an answer, he noticed Sarai’s eyes had grown wide and that she too sweated. She stood by him, body now rigid with concentration as she apparently saw what Wren did.
Wren spoke through clenched teeth. “Don’t just stand there, Sarai. Help me! You want to be stuck here forever?”
The savant’s words were like a yank on a string tied around Sarai’s waist. She hurried to Wren and gripped her hand. Through his tension, Bannor felt a twang of unease. No protest or hesitation? Sarai responded as if she’d been compelled to do as Wren asked. He would have to watch this new connection between them.
The two women stood together staring into space. Bannor wondered what they were trying to do and if it was succeeding. He approached their union cautiously. He took Sarai’s free hand. His mate’s only recognition of the gesture was a small smile. Wren never explained what she planned to do. She only planted herself and started doing ‘it’, whatever that happened to be.
“If you’re not going to use your power,” Wren said, still focused on the air above her, “at least lend us your strength.”
“How?”
“Give me your hand.”
He did.
“Use your second sight. Focus on the gate.”
Though it hurt his eyes, Bannor did as she asked. He looked into the whirling pattern. He felt Wren’s mind at the edge of his consciousness. It bothered him. Sometimes he got the sense she knew more about him than he did himself. She’d already displayed the fact that she knew some of his most intimate secrets.
He heard Wren’s voice again, only this time not with his ears. Tap it, Sarai, and push.
Bannor felt a tingling in both arms then. Burning warmth grew in his chest like when he used the Garmtur. His Nola growled in the back of his mind, rattling the lid of the box he’d locked it in. Power flowed out of the box, streamers of light that made his arms grow steadily hotter. Wren was using his Nola’s strength somehow.
In his pattern sight, he saw the waves of bluish light that Wren and Sarai sent forth through the gate. What would this accomplish? He grew dizzy and his heart beat faster. It grew hard to breathe.
“What are you..?” He groaned.
“Hold on,” Wren gritted. “A few moments more…”
A burst of brilliant colors made the three of them reel back from the gateway. They each fell back a pace. Bannor’s head rang, and his vision went blurry.
“No need, milady,” a familiar male voice said. “I am here. Glad to finally make contact, though it could have been a bit more timely.”
Bannor cleared his sight. It was Laramis. Mud covered his shiny chain mail and his tabard looked torn and bloody. A long black braid the color of Irodee’s hair was tied around his neck.
The paladin was alone.
* * *
Paladins, crusaders, justicars, they are all novel inventions.
Justified violence, holy war, religious purging, racial cleansing—marvelous!
—From the Dedriad, ‘musings of an immortal’.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
« ^ »
Bannor stared at Laramis, his burly armored body framed against the dark cliff side. He looked older. His sharp features sagged, broad shoulders rounded with fatigue. The man had recently been through a lot. If the story told by his appearance weren’t alarming enough, Irodee’s long braid wrapped around his neck in tribute fashion made the situation appear even grimmer.
Bannor’s bones vibrated; something terrible had happened. Even after ten summers, he recalled the smell as clearly as the day his brother died. Laramis smelled of trench-dirt and blood. The paladin carried with him the scent of war.
Laramis turned pale. “Ladies, pardon,” he abruptly pushed between Wren and Sarai and sat on a rock. The way Laramis’ body shook, Bannor knew the paladin was protecting his dignity by not collapsing in front of them. Sufficiently supported, Laramis composed his face. “Good to sit down. Seems I have been standing for a week.” Bannor heard a tremor in the justicar’s voice that he tried to mask. “Two hours of sleep in the last four days I believe.”
Whatever had happened must be bad. Time appeared to have passed differently outside, perhaps a week or more. What happened to Dac and Irodee? Here was one of the finest Justicars of Ukko sitting in front of them, one step from total exhaustion. Bannor’s guts knotted.
“What’s happened?” Wren asked.
“What, milady?” Laramis snorted. “Tis easier to ask what hasn’t happened.” He swallowed and rocked his head back. “Tis a horrendous mess. Ivaneth’s troops, Malan’s troops, Hecate’s creatures everywhere, demons and hadespawn…” His voice trailed. “Ragnarok, milady, it is pure ragnarok.”
“Malanian troops?” Sarai asked.
“Oh, yes,” Laramis nodded. He looked so ancient. Even though there weren’t wrinkles or gray hairs, he seemed fifty summers older. “The Elite and the Griffons, enough units to quell the entire south region if they weren’t fighting avatars. I—” his voice caught. “It is not good. The avatars opened a shadowgate to the north. Hordes have been pouring through. The region is flooded with spawn.” His eyes found Bannor’s, the first eye contact since he arrived. “They want the Garmtur my friend, they want it badly, either to have it for themselves or to keep Lady Wren from getting it.” He put his face in his hands. “So tired.”
Wren’s sweat covered face turned a shade paler. She gripped the paladin’s shoulder. “Laramis, where’s Irodee? Where’s Dac?”
His hands tightened into fists. “I do not know. We were separated. All I found…” He touched the braid around his neck. “Chaos. Nothing I have tried has reached her. I fear—” He stopped. “No.” Laramis swayed, eyes closed. “Need to rest. I depleted my demiurge to breech the gate. It will take time before I can do it again.”
Bannor felt Sarai take his hand. She and the Myrmigyne went through a tiff, but he knew that Sarai liked Irodee. He did, too. He met her gaze. Sarai’s face looked grim. Wren also wore a stony expression. Wren and Irodee always seemed as close as any two sisters. Laramis’ words had rocked her like a physical blow. She looked ready to press him. He doubted the man could stand further questioning right now.
Bannor took Wren’s arm. “Let’s get him to a sheltered spot. Sounds like we’re in the safest area in the region. If we’re going out in that mess, we need a plan.”
The savant glared at him. He met her stare with narrowed eyes. Wren glanced at Laramis, and then pressed her lips to a line. She took a breath and appeared to shrink. “You’re right.” She spoke to Laramis. “We’ll get you out of the wind. Bannor, you get one arm. I’ll get the other.”
The paladin made no comment, apparently too fatigued to argue. Together they assisted him down the beach to a sheltered alcove. Wren fetched some wood and they made a small fire for warmth against the chill sea breeze.
While they made Laramis comfortable, Bannor kept catching looks from Sarai. Finally, he pulled her off out of Wren’s hearing range. The sun had dropped beneath the horizon. Only a few orange and red traces reflected off the ebony swells rolling into shore. A line of dirty gray pouch-beaks skimmed over the water. Bannor took a breath of salt air and faced Sarai.
“What’s the matter? I mean, besides the obvious?”
Sarai put her arms around his waist. “It’s our worst nightmare, my One. It’s happening. Father’s troops, Ivaneth, hadespawn, the minions. This might be our last few hours together.”
“What kind of talk is that?”
“We’re only flesh an
d blood, Bannor! I have great power now, so does Wren, but there’s only so much four people can do. The avatars obviously intend to drown us in spawn. If we run, they’ll destroy our homelands. It’s—” Her voice caught. “It’s hopeless. My conscience will not let me to stand by and watch my people killed. No one should need to die for either of our freedoms. My parents know I am here in the borderlands.”
She held up her hand as if supporting a ball on her fingertips. A glowing red sphere appeared. The crimson light looked like blood on her pale skin. “Because of the mind seal they know I’m still alive. My parents knew I was well, so they didn’t really try to find me. With the avatars threatening, they will risk the Malanian army to get me back.”
Bannor felt tightness in his chest. It was as if Sarai was saying good-bye and preparing to never come back. “We can’t give up, Little Star, there must be a way.”
“I will try. I won’t let Father sacrifice loyal warriors on my account, though. I fear if we go to him and assist against the avatars, he may separate us. You are dangerous, Father will know that.”
Bannor nodded. “He may. Better, I think, to keep the faith. If Wren has taught me anything on this venture is that the impossible stays that way, unless you keep looking for alternatives. We have to find that way through.” He took a breath. “From what Laramis said, my instinct is that shadowgate. If it lets spawn into this world, maybe it will let us into theirs. Maybe then we can get some peace.”
Sarai’s eyes widened. “Can I have heard you? You can’t actually think—”
He put a hand over her mouth. “Little Star, it’s only an idea, okay? If we shut their gate they’ll just open another. Kill an avatar as I did with Nystruul, Hecate will simply make another to take his place. Even taking my own life won’t solve the problem. All that’s left is through. Either we find a way, or we sacrifice our souls and this world.” He looked up to the sky. “If I have to, I’ll wish Hecate never was and hope it all holds together.”
“I hope you don’t mean that,” he heard Wren say. “We have a lot of options before we get that desperate.”
Sarai put hands on hips and stared at Wren who approached. The savant looked drawn, as if Laramis’ news had sucked the energy from her. The sun’s ruddy light gave her a flushed and sickly appearance. He never imagined that anything would strike her so. He wished she seemed as confident as her words sounded.
Bannor folded his arms. “Would you share those options with us?” he asked.
“Glad to,” Wren responded. “When I have more complete idea of what’s happening. From what Laramis says, it looks bleak.” She laced her fingers together. “I’ve learned though, that your worst bane can become a boon.”
Sarai snorted. “How’s that?”
“I overheard Bannor mention the shadowgate. I think the gate is the key too. Hecate’s troops are coming through it. If those forces are here, they aren’t defending their home dimension. It provides an opportunity to strike them a crippling blow.”
Sarai’s voice rose. “Having a Nola has addled both of you. Attack a goddess in her home dimension? Ludicrous! We couldn’t handle an avatar.”
Wren nodded. “That’s why it will be unexpected. Challenging her isn’t the idea; it’s to learn her weaknesses. We must scout her home territory to do that. Finding a vulnerability is the only way to win.” She swallowed and the concerned look came back to her face. “That will wait. I want to find Irodee first.”
During Wren’s explanation, Sarai seemed to be building to an eruption. At the mention of Irodee, the tension left her body. For the first time since they met Wren, the savant showed more concern for someone’s welfare than the quest. It spoke to the friendship that she and Irodee shared.
“When we find Irodee,” Bannor made sure to say ‘when’ and not ‘if’. “What then? It looks like Hecate is tooling up to tear Titaan apart.”
She took a breath. “Bannor, since we decided we’re cooperating, I’ll share something. My father taught me a key to strategy: scout, assess, correlate, strike or negotiate. We’ll go by that canon. I don’t want the countryside ravaged, either. After all, we are the reason they’re doing it. I think our first move is to check in with Malanian army. They’re involved now and will know exactly what’s going on. Sarai should be able to get their assistance now that the threat is looking them in the eye.”
Sarai looked surprised as if she and Wren agreeing on something were an accomplishment of the impossible. “We were just discussing that.”
“Good.” Wren nodded. “I don’t want them separating you and Bannor, though.” He and Sarai exchanged looks as Wren continued. “I think I have a way to do that.” She patted Bannor on the shoulder. “Berzerker like this fellow can be a real hazard unless someone has the music to his melody.” She eyed Sarai. “You can play that tune, can’t you?”
Lips pursed, she studied Wren, obviously trying to figure out what the savant might be up to. “With my eyes closed,” she replied.
***
The four of them huddled around the fire. The rumble of the surf sounded eerie as it reflected off the rocks. Stars winked against the azure night. Shadows cast by the flames danced on the cliff like wraiths.
Even through the salt and the smell of burning wood, Bannor could detect the traces of blood-fetid soil that clung to Laramis’ boots and breeches. The odor brought back bad memories, ones he’d hoped never to face again.
The paladin stirred little except for the rise and fall of his chest and the occasional sleep-mumbled prayer. What they meant, Bannor didn’t know.
Wren spent her time writing in the journal. He didn’t know how she could sit still when she knew what was happening outside. Sarai appeared as nervous as himself. Now that the excitement had waned, he wondered how Laramis came through that gate. How would he get them out? He flashed on the mention of ‘demiurge’. What was that? Wren’s friends all had one thing in common. They were never what they appeared. Sarai learned that with Irodee.
The moon rose high in the night before Laramis awoke. He stretched, massaged his face and rubbed his neck. The man’s skin had more color than when he first appeared. Some of the age appeared to have melted away.
“I apologize,” he said in a bleary voice. “Didn’t realize I was so tired.”
“It’s fine,” Wren said. “You gave us plenty to think about. Besides we won’t be getting out unless you assist.”
The paladin made a tiny smile. “There is that, milady. I needed the rest. More than I’ve had in a while.” He looked at Sarai, then to Bannor. “Perhaps it’s my imagination or some of us are different.”
“Different, yes,” Wren agreed. “Long story. I’ll let you read about it from my journal later. Right now, we need to know what to expect when you take us out.”
“There is skirmishing everywhere. That is how Irodee, Dac and I became separated. We awoke on the river, and thanks to Bannor’s note were apprised of what direction you were being taken. Irodee tracked you in the woods. About three dozen minions descended on us and forced us to retreat. In one press, we were forced apart. By the time I fought my way clear and circled around, I couldn’t find her. All I found was one of her braids.” He touched the coil around his neck. “Two days ago a huge ground tremor caused a lot of damage.” Bannor looked at Sarai. She raised an eyebrow still listening to what Laramis was saying. “The minions were scattered, that gave me access to the gate. They will probably be waiting when we come out.”
“Wonderful,” Wren said.
“And all we’ve got for weapons are my two hand-axes and Wren’s sword for weapons,” Bannor grumbled.
“Not to fear,” Laramis said. He grabbed the heavy backpack he’d been wearing. He undid the ties and reached deep inside, past the bottom it seemed. He pulled out the entire length of a golden longbow.
“My bow!” Sarai cheered.
“Your quiver too,” Laramis said, pulling them from the sack. “We found them while tracking you.”
“Both you
and Wren have those backpacks. Where can I get one of those?” Bannor asked.
“The Lady’s mother.” Laramis nodded to Wren. “Is she not a wonder? I have other supplies as well.”
Sarai glanced at Wren. “A wonder indeed.”
Bannor shook his head. If Sarai got any more cattish she’d grow fur and claws.
The savant smiled. “She has her moments. Wait ‘til you meet her.”
The corner of Sarai’s mouth quirked. “I’m certain I’ll like her better than you.”
Laramis frowned. “You’ll pardon, Arminwen, but that’s an unkind thing to say. Wren is a bit, ah, rough about the edges, but I have always found her to be a stalwart companion. Shouldn’t we save such arguments for court?”
Sarai bowed to him. “Forgive my words, Sir Laramis,” she looked at Wren. “You are right. The last day or so has been—stressful.”
“Things shall get worse before they are better, Milady. If we work together though, we shall overcome.”
“Well spoken,” Sarai answered.
Laramis heaved himself up and looked out at the black ocean. “A wondrous work. It is too bad we must leave.”
“The fancy has worn off for me,” Bannor said.
“Pity.” Laramis shook his head. He picked up the sheath of his battle sword and strapped it over his back. He drew the huge blade and pointed toward the exit spot. “Hie us to the gate. There is evil afoot, and we must strike it with renewed vigor.”
Wren chuckled. She walked over and gave the paladin a hug. “I’ve missed you, Laramis. Come on, let’s find Irodee.”
The four of them walked as a unit to the gate spot. Laramis pointed to the sky. “By the hand of Ukko,” he said. Blue fire licked around his arm. For an instant, Laramis seemed bigger and a fiery halo surrounded him.
Bannor didn’t have time to wonder about it. They were back in the forest where they started, the raspy hiss of Hecate’s demons coming from all around them.
* * *
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