The Wayfarer King

by K. C. May

  Aldras Gar.

  Daia, he thought. I need you. He tried to find Daia’s haze, groping for her across the boundary between the realms.

  The singing stopped. Bahnna looked up in alarm toward the cave then sprinted away.

  Released from the song’s grasp, Gavin shuddered. He yanked up his trousers and retrieved his leather glove, still disbelieving he’d come within moments of being ravished by a female. Never had he imagined such a thing was possible, especially not to someone as large and strong as he was. He’d always been able to overpower anyone who attacked him, especially a woman.

  With the Rune of the Past in hand, this was the perfect opportunity to leave. Once he sealed the rift between the realms, the Elyle would no longer be in danger. Wasn’t that payment enough for the rune? He’d never agreed to Bahnna’s terms anyway. They’d been forced upon him.

  Aldras Gar!

  A scream echoed through the forest, too low in pitch to be Bahnna, Gavin broke into a run.

  The sound of growling and thrashing grew louder as he neared the cave. Through the trees he caught sight of a shiny, gray form the size of a black bear and Bahnna straddling it, pounding it from above with a rock. Clamped in its jaws was Bahn’s right arm. He lay on the ground with his face contorted in pain, but he didn’t struggle or fight back as the beyonder dragged him toward the trees. He looked like a man who had accepted his fate.

  “Oh hell,” Gavin muttered. He’d encountered this type of beyonder before. Heavily armored, it was extremely hard to kill with steel. He put on his glove and drew his sword anyway. “Get off,” he yelled. “Get off it.”

  Bahnna didn’t seem to have heard. She kept slamming that rock against the beyonder’s thick-plated skull, though her assault did nothing to deter it. When he ran into the clearing, the beyonder released Bahn’s arm and snapped at Gavin with two rows of triangular, serrated teeth. He leapt backward out of its reach. With a hard shake, it flung Bahnna from its scaly back. She sailed a dozen feet through the air and slammed into the mountain face, then fell like a rag to the ground and lay still.

  The beyonder came at Gavin, advancing quickly on six spindly legs. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away from it by running backward, so he led it into the woods and used the trees to keep it at a distance. He feinted one way, intending to spin the opposite way around a tree and stab it in the side. It adjusted, whipping its triangular head around. It narrowly missed Gavin’s sword hand. The thing wasn’t stupid, nor was it slow.

  The beyonder’s jaws clacked together so close to Gavin’s shin, he felt its hot breath through his trousers. He circled another tree, then another, working his way toward one with a split low on its trunk.

  Pain shot through his right leg as its teeth sank into the flesh above his knee. He stumbled, caught in its vice-like grip, and nearly fell. The agony rose to his throat and rumbled there in a growl. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he chopped his sword at the thing’s eye, hoping to blind it. A spark from Aldras Gar plunged into the tender flesh.

  The beyonder screeched and let go, shutting its plated eyelid. It staggered, backed away, and turned drunkenly. Its head slammed into a tree. Gavin stumbled after it. Die! A blue flame shot forth from Aldras Gar and spread across the surface of the beyonder’s armor plating then disappeared into the tiny crevices between them. The thing shrieked and quivered and stopped moving. A plume of smoke danced upward from its still carcass.

  Gavin limped at a run to the cave. Already his healing magic warmed the torn flesh.

  Bahn sat on the ground, cradling Bahnna’s limp form, his head bowed over her.

  “Is she alive?” Gavin asked. He squatted beside the two Elyles and put one hand on Bahnna’s head. The fur between her ears was surprisingly soft and warm.

  “Her heart still beats but slowly,” Bahn said. His right arm bled steadily through his ripped sleeve and hung uselessly by his side.

  Gavin settled onto his knees and put both hands on Bahnna. As much as he despised her, he knew Bahn’s life was in peril as well. He closed his eyes and concentrated on finding the white fluttering sensation that accompanied King Arek’s healing magic. Little by little, he shut out the sounds of the birds, of the trees rustling in the breeze, of Bahn’s soft breathing. The fluttering was weak, but he focused on it, willing it to burn hotter within him. It heated his hands and trickled into Bahnna’s still form, then gradually flowed more steadily. A cottony feeling filled his mouth, and his temples began to throb before the healing was finished. He gritted his teeth and focused, diving deeper into it and pulling it with all his will.

  At last, it faded. He knew he’d done the best he could, and he relaxed his trembling muscles. His head felt like it had been stamped flat under a fallen boulder. Every movement, every thought, intensified the pain, but there was still work to do to heal Bahn’s arm. If only Daia had been there. Her help would have made the healing much easier. Then he remembered his ring and wanted to slap himself. Of course.

  Closing his eyes, he focused his hidden eye on the gem in his ring. He followed the fine, hazy thread through the clouds of mist, found her orange tendril and grasped it. He exhaled in relief. The rings worked across realms. The pain in his head immediately began to lessen.

  When he placed his hands on Bahn, the Elyle lifted his head to reveal pale orange eyes. “You needn’t bother helping me. I cannot live without my complement.”

  “Don’t worry. She’ll recover.” He shut his eyes and let the fluttering white magic heal Bahn. Despite the connection with Daia, he finished feeling weak and queasy. Maybe he was weaker in this realm, or his connection with her wasn’t as strong across realms. His head spun.

  The next thing he knew, Bahn was sitting over him, dribbling water into his parched mouth. The Elyle’s eyes glowed like fireflies in summertime. Gavin struggled to sit up. Bahnna took him by the arm and helped. He reflexively pulled away to avoid her vile touch. At least the headache had faded.

  “Your touch healed us,” Bahn said. “We owe you our lives, Emtor.” He bowed his head deeply.

  Even Bahnna inclined her head a few inches.

  “My complement agrees you paid her well for the rune, and she would make you another if you need it.”

  Gavin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “If I knew what other rune I needed, I would gladly accept your offer.”

  “You would be most welcome to return for it, Emtor,” Bahn said. “She’ll craft it for you anytime.”

  “I’ll sing for you as a special favor,” Bahnna said with a lusty grin.

  “No,” Gavin said flatly. He started to rise. “It’s time I tried to get home. My thanks for your help.” He looked at Bahn as he said this. With great effort, he looked at Bahnna and tried to keep from snarling as he thanked her for the rune.

  “Good-bye, Uckod,” she sneered.

  “Good-bye, Emtor.”

  He returned to the creek and followed it downstream, looking for the place he and Daia had stopped. When the abandoned village came into view, he followed his footprints until he found the ones he’d made on first arriving.

  Again, he used his hidden eye to find the gem’s haze and followed its thread to where Daia’s flame awaited. Once connected to her, he tried to envision the vortex.

  At first, he saw nothing but a swirl of colored dots as before. The image of a rainbow vortex danced in his mind, slipping away teasingly each time he tried to focus on it. Don’t try to focus on it, he reminded himself. Instead, he let it hang in the periphery of his vision, just out of focus. When it cycled to the comfortable blue color, he stepped into it. The world twisted and fell away.

  Chapter 34

  Daia alternately paced, muttering angrily over Gavin’s foolish foray into an unknown world unprepared, and sat on the grass, chewing her fingernails to their quicks. Terrible thoughts raced through her head. What if he couldn’t get back? What if he was injured and his healing magic didn’t work? What if he was dead? He’d promised not to go through, damn him.


  She traced his steps and found the exact spot where he’d gone from this realm into another. It didn’t feel like any other, didn’t look any different. The grass grew there as it did in the surrounding area, and the horses didn’t hesitate to graze on it. A vortex had opened here. She hadn’t seen it. All she saw was Gavin stepping out of the world and disappearing.

  She sat before that spot. If he was searching for her from whatever realm he’d gone to, she would need a calm mind to sense him. What if he’d been searching for her all this time and her anger and worry had turned her numb to his frantic groping? She shut off her thoughts, recognizing they were unproductive and stupid.

  With slow, steady breaths, she concentrated on her ring, caressing its gem with the power swirling in her belly. The world slowed and quieted. Whether it was her imagination or real, she couldn’t tell, but she sensed a thread running from her ring to where Gavin disappeared. Beyond that was nothingness. With her conduit power, she felt along the length of the thread as though she were following a rope in a dark cave inch by inch. Before long, she felt the tickle in her gut of someone connecting to her. It was Gavin. She grasped it. She expected him to come back, but the connection dropped. “Damn it.” Was he in trouble? She tried to relax. He’d found her once. He’d find her again. Several minutes passed, then several more. Daia tried to remain calm, but with every beat of her heart, his absence worried her more. At last, she felt him connect with her again, and she grasped him with all her strength.

  “Whoa.”

  She shot to her feet and spun, her heart thumping. There he stood, arms out as if to steady himself. Alive. Home. Safe. “Gavin!” She reacted without thinking by throwing her arms around his waist. “Thank Yrys you’re all right.” He teetered on unsteady feet, and she widened her stance to keep them upright.

  “The rings work great,” he said, grasping her upper arms. “Only took the span of ten heartbeats to find you.”

  She wanted to slap him and hug him at the same time. Only ten seconds, and she’d worried for hours. She stepped back but watched him closely for a sign he might fall, ready to catch him. “I’m glad you’re—” There was blood on his trouser leg. “What happened?”

  “I was in another realm, and I met two Elyles.”

  “I meant to your leg.”

  “Beyonder. Let’s get back on the road and I’ll tell you what happened.” He looked around. “Where’s my horse?”

  Calie nibbled the grass several yards away, but Golam was nowhere in sight. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have tied him to a tree. I was trying to concentrate on helping you and didn’t notice he’d wandered off.”

  “Damned fool,” Gavin spat. “Not you. The horse. Always getting lost. Golam!” He cupped his hands beside his mouth. “GOLAM!”

  They listened for a sign of the big gray. Somewhere to the south, a horse neighed. Gavin called to him as he stamped through the forest toward the sound. Soon, Daia saw the huge gray body trotting through the trees, head high. Golam nickered as he approached his rider. “How now, mule,” Gavin said, chuckling. “Got lost again, didn’t you?” Golam pressed the long flat of his face against Gavin’s chest while Gavin rubbed his ears. “You’re awright now, pal. Come on.” He led Golam by the reins to the road.

  “He looks happy to see you.”

  “He’s not afeared o’beyonders or men with swords or bats...” He winked at Daia. “...but he turns into a baby when he gets lost.”

  Golam swung his huge head toward her as he walked by, reaching for her ear with lips extended. She leaned away and pushed at his face gently. “Don’t try it, lecher.”

  Once they’d mounted and started again toward the Lucky Inn, Gavin told her of his adventures in the other realm. Her expression was skeptical until he showed her the rune.

  “By Yrys! You got a summoning rune?” she asked.

  “No, they wouldn’t give me one. This is a Rune o’the Past. They said I can use it to travel to a previous time. Does the book say anything about it?”

  “That sounds familiar.” She pulled the encyclopaedia out of her pack and began flipping pages. “If King Arek could go to a different time, why didn’t he stop Crigoth Sevae from summoning Ritol? Why send so many thousands of soldiers to their deaths trying to kill it?” She looked up again. “What if you could stop that whole Ritol thing from happening at all?”

  That notion made Gavin uncomfortable, though it was so foreign that he couldn’t wrestle it still enough in his thoughts to understand why. He pointed at the encyclopaedia. “Read.”

  She hunted through the book, brow furrowed and eyes darting across each page. Finally she tapped the page. “Here. Listen to this. It’s from a letter he wrote to the Institute for Scholarly Studies.

  “I have discovered that as Wayfarer, my travels are not limited to different realms. Indeed, I’ve found that I can travel to a previous time — to talk to people who have since passed on. I call this ‘back-traveling.’ On one such journey, I saw my mother while she was pregnant with me. I dared not address her for fear she would call the guards to arrest me for speaking of matters too unfathomable to be naught but the ravings of a madman. There are limits to this backward travel, however.

  “I take with me only what I back-travel with, and I have no power over life and death. When I returned to the day nearly two years ago, hoping to...” Daia read silently for a moment.

  “Hoping to what?”

  “Gavin, you don’t want to hear this.”

  “Read.”

  With a sigh, she started again. “...hoping to save my young son from drowning in the courtyard reflecting pool—”

  “Aww, hell,” Gavin muttered.

  “—my hands couldn’t grasp him, and my shouts for help went unheard. I watched my son die, powerless to save him.” Daia grimaced sorrowfully. “Did you know King Arek had a son?”

  Gavin started to shake his head, but the distant memory of a young body, wet and lifeless, tickled his mind. Though the memory was clouded, the emotion of it was not, clenching his heart. Ronor had loved that child as one of his own. “Yeh, I think I did.” It wasn’t a memory he particularly wanted Daia’s help to clarify, though. He let it go.

  She bent back to the page. “My theory is that anything that would alter the past such that later events would not have occurred are somehow impossible. Back-travel is best suited for gaining information that might shed light on current affairs. If you have pressing questions about historical events, such as the crafting of the Star Fire gem or the circumstances surrounding The Sacrifice, send a reply and I will attempt to gather the information. Complete and accurate books on our people’s history would be among our most valuable assets.”

  “Is there a reply?” Gavin asked.

  She flipped a few pages, scanning quickly down the length of each. “Not that I can see, but I’ll keep looking. Sorry about that drowning business. I warned you.”

  “I know.” In truth, Gavin was grateful to have heard it. If King Arek hadn’t been able change events in his past, then Gavin had no hope of saving his own family. Back-traveling to the day his wife and daughter had been brutally murdered would only have made him relive those moments in excruciating detail.

  “You really did it, didn’t you?” she asked. “Traveled to another realm.”

  He grinned and rubbed his thumb over the rune in his hand. “Yeh.”

  “Next time you go through, at least warn me first, will you? I was worried half to death.”

  Chapter 35

  Brodas rode along a partially-paved street in the southern-most neighborhood of the Garnet district, scanning the burnt homes for one that had suffered less damage than the others. He hadn’t seen a grocer or farmers market within a few minutes’ walking distance and suspected that any nearby shops had gone out of business or moved after the fire. Everyone had left. Not one home had been rebuilt or repaired.

  The last two homes on the street, sitting higher on the slope of the hill that marked the
mountain’s edge seemed relatively untouched by the fire. He dismounted and approached. “Is anyone here?” he called. “Hello?” When no one answered, he tried the door. It swung easily open.

  Inside, the great room was furnished with a pair of wooden chairs softened by pillows, a crude pedestal dining table, and several stools. The stove in the kitchen had evidence of heavy use and light cleaning. The home smelled dank from mildew. In a bedroom, he found a cracked ceiling and water-damaged bedding beneath. The second bedroom had an old bed, seemingly undamaged by mice or water, a wardrobe half-filled with clothes, and a couple of crates as well. A few articles of clothing lay strewn across the floor suggesting someone had left in a hurry. Every corner housed a spiderweb or two with shiny black residents whose bite promised fever and pus-filled boils.

  Beneath a tattered rug in the great room was a hatch. Brodas pulled it open and was immediately assaulted with the stench of rancid meat. He waved fresh air into his face to rid himself of the terrible smell, then plugged his nose and descended. When he reached the bottom of the ladder, his feet crunched the corpses of a thousand flies. About twenty feet square, the cellar was filled with half-empty crates of winter clothing, mostly strewn across the dirt floor. The meat, most of it spilled from broken jars, had completely dried out, though the smell lingered in the clothing. His future guests might complain about the smell but not for long. Still, Brodas didn’t consider himself an inhumane barbarian. He’d burn some herbs to make the air breathable.

  To be thorough, he checked a couple of nearby houses but found them in less habitable condition.

  With his temporary residence secured, Brodas retrieved his belongings from the inn and tasked Cirang with emptying the meat from the cellar while Red hauled the wet bedding out of the bedroom. Red found a couple of usable pallets in the neighboring houses and hauled them over. Cirang offered to sleep in the great room and let Red have the bedroom, either to avoid needing to repair the roof in case of rain or to escape Red’s loud snoring. While they were busy making the house habitable, Brodas rode into the center of town for something to eat. He wasn’t talented in the kitchen, and he didn’t think Cirang had enough of a womanly bent to cook, so he found an inn that would package a meal of chicken, bread and corn for him to take back.