He leaned over and kissed her. “I’d feel better if you had one of my
artifacts too.”
“Why?” Her eyes seemed to get even bigger. “Don’t you trust the
Four?”
Why should I, when I know how cunning magicians can be? He held
his words inside, where they wouldn’t hurt Bella. Instead, he smiled.
“Don’t you think the more protection, the better?”
She studied him for a couple of heartbeats before clearing the meal
off the table. He must not have been convincing. But Kron didn’t know
how else to prove himself to her, so he drank the last of the beer, then
retreated to his workshop.
Kron had assembled his workshop out of driftwood. Inside, baskets,
clay pots, and shelves held goose feathers; wool dyed and undyed,
combed or spun; polished stones; a few carefully guarded bits of gold
and gems; and many other items. None of these seemed suitable for the
sundials that would protect him and Bella from Time. Wood and leather
could rot, clay could crumble, and jewelry could break. Anything that
could shelter him from time had to be made of something that wouldn’t
be easily destroyed by time. But what? Ancient bones? Petrified wood?
How would he obtain such rare materials?
Kron thought longingly for a few heartbeats about all the materials
he would like to use for the sundial, then gathered up the most likely
8 8 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n
materials he had on hand—stone, gold and gems, and a bronze ham-
mer—and added them to sundials. Then he enchanted them to be
stronger, less likely to change, and impervious to magic other than his
own. By the time he was done, no light shone from his house—or any
others. Everyone else must be asleep. But despite all the enchanting
he’d done, Kron wasn’t tired. Maybe Spring was right, but he didn’t
want to think about that. He’d rather test his sundials. He could portal
to Salth’s territory and be back before Bella could worry. But…what if
his sundials didn’t work and he couldn’t make it back? She’d never
know what had happened, and she’d be unprotected herself.
Kron debated on whether he could attach the sundials to wild ani-
mals, portal them to Salth’s realm, and let them test his sundials. But
Bella would never talk to him if she ever found out. Besides, would
Salth bother practicing her magic on animals? She was after him and
Bella; she had no reason to attack a wild deer or fox. Her time magic
might not trigger at all unless she detected him—or what she thought
was him.
Kron snuck into the house and brought out his spare clothing—three
robes. Bella didn’t wake as he kissed her cheek. He knotted a sundial
into each robe, then enchanted some of the spun wool to stick to the
robes so he could throw them through a portal and drag them back.
Next, he created a portal to Salth’s house. At least, he tried to; the portal
didn’t open where he’d planned it to. Instead of showing him her house,
the portal displayed the river bank where he’d played with Sal-thaath.
Even in the moonlight, the river appeared—wrong. Where were the cat-
tails and other tall grasses? Although it was early fall, the ground was
as bare as midwinter. No other signs of life—no mice searching for
seeds, no fish creating ripples in the water or owls flying overhead—
were apparent. Kron frowned. Had Salth done this? If so, why? She’d
never resented nature as much as she did people.
Well, let’s see if she’s awake. Grabbing the robe with the stone sun-
dial, Kron held the wool string with one hand while tossing the robe
through the portal. It landed in mud. Bella wasn’t going to be happy
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 8 9
with him the next time she did laundry. Kron waited for a few heart-
beats, then wriggled the string before pulling the robe back toward the
portal, as if he were fishing.
Just as the robe drew close enough for him to reach through the por-
tal and grab it, the knot he’d used to fasten the stone sundial to the robe
came undone. In an instant, the robe ripped, frayed threads pointing in
all directions. The brown dye faded to tan. Kron yanked on the robe,
and it split in half. By the time he dragged the remnant of his robe
through the portal, it was a rag so holey Bella wouldn’t use it for clean-
ing.
“She’s not going to be happy with me in the morning,” Kron mut-
tered as he tested the iron sundial. This time, he made sure to enchant it
so that it magically clung to his robe and wouldn’t fall off. Despite his
precaution, the iron quickly rusted and fell apart, and the second robe
met the same fate as the first.
If Salth breaks down everything, soon there will be nothing left in
her self-appointed realm but dust. Kron’s hands trembled as he checked
the final robe, the one with a gold sundial, before tossing it through.
Then he waited, still as the portal. A bat swooped through the portal so
quickly he didn’t have time to react. Would it die too? It squeaked and
fell, splashing in the river. Kron shivered, and not from cold. The Salth
he knew hadn’t been so desperate for life that she’d take it from every-
thing.
He waited until the sky started to lighten, but his robe didn’t disin-
tegrate. Then he pulled it back through the portal and inspected the robe.
This one seemed unchanged. Perhaps he could wear it tomorrow night,
when he visited the Magic Institute to find more answers.
***
Although Kron seemed to have more stamina these days than he did
when he was a youth, he realized he still needed a few hours of sleep
when he found himself nodding off in the market that afternoon. A pair
9 0 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n
of boys attempted to snatch some of his artifacts, but they tripped on his
blanket, and their cries roused him. A guard with a dog held tightly on
a leash asked Kron if he wanted the boys arrested, but Kron shook his
head. The last time he’d attempted to correct a child had been a disaster.
Why would this time be any better?
His sales picked up after that, but he trudged home to Bella, reluctant
to portal to the Magic Institute and learn what had happened to Pagli.
Bella’s enthusiastic kiss cheered him up, and they enjoyed a supper of
fresh bread and baked fish stuffed with river greens.
“The Goddess of Fall returned to me this morning,” Bella said as she
poured more beer for both of them. “The day after tomorrow, She and
the rest of the Four want us to pledge ourselves to Them.”
Kron struggled not to spit out the beer. When he could speak, he
asked, “So soon?”
Bella’s eyes were solemn. “She wants us to be ready if Salth—I
mean Time—tries something. Which reminds me.” She leaned forward,
letting her shift gape open at the neck. “The Four think we’ll be safer if
all twelve Avatars remain close together. Kron, dear, would you mind
moving?”
“Moving?”
“Into a larger house. A palace that used to belong
to a judge.” She
shook her head and let out a laugh. “Can you imagine it, people like us
living in a palace? I’m sure it will be beautiful!”
And I’m sure it’s been half destroyed by looters. Kron couldn’t bring
himself to say the words out loud and take the excitement from his
wife’s face. Instead, he reached over and took her hand. “Anywhere
with you is beautiful, my love. Have you told your sister yet?”
“Not yet. She may be jealous, but I’ll still come to visit. It’s not that
far away.”
As she would be if she traveled to Delns with Kron. He supposed
that once Bella tied herself to the child goddess, she would be forbidden
to leave this region, and he’d never return to Delns. Perhaps he should
discourage her from becoming an Avatar, but he didn’t have the heart
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 9 1
to deny her. If he’d changed to the point where he could no longer give
her a child, then at least he should let her find some other way to spend
her time. Perhaps, if Bella served the gods well, they would grant her–
and him–what she wished for.
With that hopeful thought in mind, Kron smiled at his wife and ca-
ressed her hand.
They went to bed early, and Kron fell asleep after they made love.
But bad dreams roused him in the middle of the night. He lay there,
listening to water drip out of the clock, until he realized sleep wouldn’t
grant him more peace tonight. He might as well visit the Magic Institute
and learn more about what was going on.
He dressed, collected the light-producing artifact, the gold sundial,
and a few other items that might be useful, then stepped outside. The
air was cold, although it wasn’t yet Frostmoon. Kron felt his way to the
place where he’d set up the test portal last night and rebuilt the arch.
Then he rested his hands on the wood and remembered the mosaics and
the fountain in the institute’s courtyard. He knew them well, yet he had
trouble bringing them into focus. The mosaics were still present, but
they were missing stones, and some of their colors had faded. The foun-
tain held no water, and part of the basin had chipped away. Leaves
littered the courtyard, along with animal droppings and small bones. It
didn’t look as if anyone had cleaned the courtyard in moons. The only
possible good point about the situation was that it didn’t appear Salth
had been here recently either. But if no one was at the Magic Institute,
would Kron learn anything by portaling there? Or what if this was a
trap, some illusion Salth had cast to lure him somewhere she could am-
bush him?
“You won’t get me that easily, Salth,” he muttered. He brought out
a magic-finder, gave it a taste of Salth’s magic signature, and tossed it
through the portal. As he’d suspected, it flared, though the stone flick-
ered as though it was uncertain what it detected. Maybe Salth had
altered so much her magic core had transformed too. Would he know if
9 2 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n
his had changed? She hadn’t had any trouble finding him, so maybe it
hadn’t.
You’re wasting time, he told himself. Either head through the portal
or close it before something comes through after you.
The sundial was small enough for Kron to wear on a chain around
his neck. He checked to make sure it was secure, both physically and
magically, squared his shoulders, and stepped through.
Nothing pounced on him as he arrived, but Kron moved as silently
as he could and strained to listen for any signs of life—or unlife. He
picked up the magic-finder and swung it in a circle around him. Its glow
didn’t change. The fountain couldn’t betray his presence without water,
but he edged around it anyway as he approached the Magic Institute.
Before entering the building, he waved the magic-finder in front of it.
It seemed to brighten for a heartbeat. If Salth had been here, any traces
of her presence would most likely be inside. Kron dug a tuft of undyed
wool from his pouch and enchanted it to soak up magic. Then he pushed
the door open with his foot—something he shouldn’t be able to do if
someone was here to defend the Magic Institute.
Kron used the glow from the magic-finder to explore. He found the
first body in the reception area. A female in an apprentice’s robes lay
on the floor. Unbound dark hair spilled down her back. When Kron
turned her over to see if he recognized her, her wizened face belied her
apparent youth.
Salth must have drained all of her remaining years from her, but
why? If she’s mastered time, shouldn’t she be able to create more for
herself? But if Salth wasn’t mortal anymore, she didn’t need to steal
time for herself. Kron frowned. The only person she would give more
time to would be Sal-thaath. Had she managed to resurrect him?
Kron needed answers, and he didn’t think he would find them here.
However, he searched every room in the Magic Institute, hoping to find
a survivor. There were none. Every body that he found had been aged,
sometimes so much that he wasn’t sure if he recognized the individual.
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 9 3
He didn’t find Pagli’s body; he wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or a
curse.
When Kron had finished searching, he returned to the courtyard.
Numbness made it difficult to think. Should he attempt to warn the other
magicians he knew? Was anyone else even left? No word from his fam-
ily in years, his second home forever haunted by this tragedy—if
something happened to Bella, he’d have no one left to love.
The cold breeze on his neck brought him the scent of decay. Kron
spun around and raised his magic-finder. Pagli’s body shuffled forward,
but not toward him. Toward the still-active portal.
“No!” Kron yelled. He threw the enchanted wool toward his former
teacher. The breeze caught it and brought it back toward him. The wool
wouldn’t work on him because he’d enchanted it, but he instinctively
dodged it anyway. Pagli halted, then turned toward Kron. He raised his
hands. Did he intend to throw another black sundial at Kron? He moved
his hands in a pattern Kron recognized, even though he’d never mas-
tered it himself. Pagli—or Salth working through him—was
summoning a fireball. Kron’s robe was enchanted to protect him against
fire, but he’d never had to test it against someone this strong. Where
was that wool? If he could touch Pagli with it before he completed his
spell—
Pagli finished his spell with a flourish, pointing all of his fingers at
Kron. However, only a few sparks dribbled out of his fingers. Appar-
ently the corpse’s ability to wield magic on its own was limited. Kron
seized the chance to dart forward and snatch the wool off of the pave-
ment. Before using it, however, he halted and stared at Pagli’s face.
“Pagli? Are you still in there?” he asked. “It’s me, Kron Evenhanded.
You don’t have to do this. You can resist Salth. Just show me a sign
that you don’t
want to hurt me or my wife....”
As if he’d remembered he had a more urgent task elsewhere, Pagli
turned back toward the portal.
No. Not Bella. You won’t hurt Bella. Grimly, Kron tackled the
corpse. There couldn’t be any part of Pagli’s soul still trapped in there.
9 4 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n
Nonetheless, Kron’s hands trembled as he knocked Pagli’s body down
to the ground and pressed the wool on his forehead. The body jerked a
couple of times, but feebly. Kron knelt on Pagli’s chest. He gritted his
teeth and forced himself to watch as the light faded from Pagli’s eyes
for the last time. Perhaps he was providing relief for his mentor, but he
couldn’t tell. The corpse didn’t bother taunting Kron, which was very
unlike Salth. Perhaps she was too busy planning mischief back at
Kron’s house. Instinct urged him to hurry home, but he wasn’t finished
here yet. He couldn’t let Salth take control of Pagli’s body—or the oth-
ers—again. The easiest way to do that would be to burn all of the bodies.
But instead of preparing a fire, Kron peered through the portal, trying
to tell if anything was amiss at home.
An owl hooted behind him, making him jump. Perhaps this creature
was under Salth’s control too. But when he turned around, the owl
transformed into the woman-child who’d distrusted him so much during
their encounter in the meadow. Her hair bounced as if She’d just tum-
bled out of bed, and She held her hands out as if preventing Kron from
coming any closer. Her face wasn’t visible, making it difficult to guess
her intentions.
When She didn’t speak, Kron asked, “Bella?”
“She’s safe. I have owls and wolves surrounding your house, watch-
ing for any sign of Salth.” She jerked Her head toward the Magic
Institute. “Go and do what needs to be done here. Take anything you
need for your own magic. You will need it for tomorrow night.”
With that, She disappeared, leaving no portal or other sign of her
behind.
Kron waited a few more heartbeats, but Fall didn’t return. He appre-
ciated the reassurance that these new magicians were keeping their
promise, but that didn’t make this task easier.
Kron entered the Magic Institute for the last time and collected as
many gold objects as he could carry. He stopped at each of the bodies
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