to straighten them out and close their eyes. He also collected the records
of the Magic Institute. There were so many of them he had to create a
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 9 5
small portal to his house and feed the records and other items through
it. By the time he was done, the sky was beginning to lighten with the
dawn.
Kron took a deep breath. “Pagli and everyone else who once lived
and worked in this place, I grieve for your deaths. I do not know what
all of you wanted or expected after death, so I hope your souls have a
safe journey to whatever awaits you. As for me, I will do my best to
make sure Salth never does anything else like this again.”
He enchanted the courtyard walls to contain fire, then set the magic-
saturated wool alight and used it to cremate Pagli. The fire would spread
to the building and consume everything that could burn before dying.
As he returned to the portal, the fire’s heat burned away all unwanted
tears falling down his face.
C H A P T E R E L E V E N
The Crystal House
“Kron? Why did you sleep in so late? Are you ill?” Bella felt his
forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Do you want me to fetch Galia, or
Tylan the healer?”
Kron reluctantly opened his eyes. Judging from the light in the room,
it was mid-morning. He’d had only a few hours of sleep since returning
home. He’d been exhausted enough to fall asleep as soon as he fell into
bed, but now the images of the aged bodies and the undead Pagli re-
turned. Kron groaned and shook his head.
Bella leaned closer to him and sniffed. “Why do I smell smoke on
you?”
How could he inflict the horrors he’d seen on such a sweet soul?
Even though she’d only been to the Magic Institute once, she’d grieve
almost as much as he did. Kron wanted to reassure her, but he couldn’t
force a smile this morning.
“It’s...it’s nothing, dear one.” Only my second home destroyed. “You
don’t need to worry about me when you’ll be swearing yourself to the
goddess of animals soon.”
“She’s properly referred to as the Goddess of Fall, or simply Fall.”
Bella tilted her head and studied him, an unexpected shrewdness in her
flecked eyes. “The smoke—is it related to the investigation Spring and
Winter asked you to perform? Have you learned more about—” she
lowered her voice—“Salth, or Time, or whoever it is who turned your
friend into a nightmare?”
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 9 7
“His nightmare is over.” Kron pushed himself out of bed. “Is there
more beer?” Wine, or something stronger, would be better and help him
forget that last attack by Pagli. But Kron couldn’t afford to get drunk
now, not when he had to create more protective artifacts.
“What do you mean, his nightmare is over?”
Kron splashed cold water on his face.
“Kron, answer me.” Bella tugged on his arm. “What don’t you want
to tell me about last night?”
“You don’t want to hear—”
“But if it’s that bad, I need to hear about it.” She led him to a chair.
“And perhaps, you need to talk about it.”
Kron stared at her for a few more heartbeats, then gave in and told
her everything that had happened last night. As he’d expected, her face
grew pale with horror, and her eyes glistened with tears. Part of him
hoped she would reconsider pledging herself to the child goddess so she
would be safe. Except she wasn’t safe now, was she? Perhaps it would
be better for her to be under the goddess’s protection. The goddess
could take care of her in ways his golden sundials couldn’t.
“So...the Magic Institute is completely gone?” Bella asked when he
finished. “No one else is left?”
“A few wandering magicians like myself, but I doubt they will want
to start another school.” Kron wondered for a moment how young ma-
gicians would learn their craft now. But they had more immediate
concerns. “There’s nothing else I can do at the Magic Institute. The next
thing for me to do is visit Salth’s old house and see what I can learn
there.”
Bella’s eyes widened. “But if she knows you’re there, she’ll try to
destroy you!”
Kron fought back a yawn. “Then I think today I’ll skip going to the
marketplace and prepare artifacts that will hide me from her. I’ll prepare
more golden sundials and leave them with you to make sure you’re
safe.”
9 8 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n
Bella nodded. “But eat something first before you head to your
workshop.” She set the flatcakes near the fireplace to warm them up.
“You need strength.”
Kron had no appetite, but he washed down the flatcakes with beer,
then set to work. Magically manipulating the gold into the right shape,
then enchanting each sundial, was difficult work, and focusing on his
task allowed him to forget about Pagli and the Magic Institute for a
while. By the time he was finished, the sun had set. Bella had been busy
preparing fresh bread and fish stew, but she’d managed to obtain figs
and dates—his favorite fruits—for dessert. The gesture made him smile
for the first time that day, and he lingered by Bella’s side as they stared
at the fire for a while, not speaking.
When the evening had turned to night, he said, “I should go,” with-
out moving.
“Yes, you should,” she said, her voice so low he had trouble hearing
her.
They could have remained in those positions for the rest of the night.
However, an owl hooted repeatedly outside of the window, making
Bella smile as if she understood what the bird was saying.
She rose, came over to him, and put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t
worry, Kron, I’ll be fine.” She bit her lip. “You’re the one putting your-
self at risk. I don’t know how I’ll sleep tonight.”
He stroked her cheek. “Try, for me. It’ll make my task easier.”
“And when you return—”
Yes, better to think about the joy of reunion, not the fear of parting.
“Yes, when I return.” He kissed her, making it a promise of what they
would share in the morning.
Bella embraced him and returned the kiss with enthusiasm, but then
she tore herself away. “If you’re leaving, you’d better do it, before I
wrap myself around you and refuse to let you go.”
“With such a sweet chain, why would I ever want to break free?”
Why did she make it so hard to leave her? If they kept this up, he’d let
the rest of the world outside their house rot as long as the two of them
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 9 9
could remain suspended in their own private bubble of time. But Salth
would never permit that.
With a sigh, Kron tore himself away from Bella long enough to pre-
sent her with one of the golden sundials he’d created that afternoon. “I
know your patron goddess is watching over you, but I’d feel better
knowing you have this too.”
She
wrapped her fingers around it. “I’ll keep it under my pillow. Or
does it need light to work?”
“Not for protection.”
“Then go, and may the Four Gods and Goddesses protect you too.”
She sketched a compass rose in the air in front of Kron before retreating
to the corner of the house where their bed was curtained off for privacy.
Kron let himself out of the house. Owls perched on the roof, watch-
ing him with round eyes. A pair of wild cats, larger than tamed ones but
smaller than wolves, slunk around the corner. While Kron wasn’t sure
how useful animals would be against another undead magician like
Pagli, they did prove the Goddess of Fall was watching, ready to inter-
vene if necessary. Kron hoped that with Pagli’s body burned, Salth
would be unable to use him against Bella.
Kron slipped into his workshop and stuffed his pouch with golden
sundials and as many raw materials and defensive items as he could
carry. He renewed the protective spells on his clothing. An idea came
to him, and he enchanted the workshop to hold any magical creature
without letting it escape. That way, he could create his portal in the
workshop and keep innocent Vistichians from walking through it—or
any of Salth’s warped constructs from wreaking havoc on the city.
Kron brought branches inside to create a portal, so all he needed was
the right image. He recalled the river as it had been, with lush grasses
and flowers, but the portal didn’t open. Then he remembered the differ-
ence in seasons. He needed to use permanent landmarks, not ones that
changed over time. Salth probably hadn’t been any kinder to her land
than she had been to the Magic Institute.
1 0 0 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n
This time, when he focused on the curves and bulges of the
riverbank, the portal formed. The land on the other side looked dead.
All the plants were gray-brown and wilted, and no animals stirred.
Salth’s home was farther north than Vistichia, so it made sense that the
fall season would be more advanced there. But the area beyond the por-
tal seemed too still, as if a trap lay ahead just out of sight.
I wonder what Sal-thaath would think to see his playground devas-
tated like this. Knowing him, he might think it doesn’t matter. If he
didn’t care about people who lacked magic, why would he worry about
a barren land?
Kron shaped a handful of small rocks into flying arrowheads. They
wouldn’t do more than distract Salth, but that might be enough. Magic-
finder in one hand and flying arrowheads in the other, Kron passed
through the portal.
The land here wasn’t as dead as it had initially appeared to be, but
the area was certainly dying. All of the plants, from the grass and rushes
to the trees, had turned yellow-green and smelled like spoiled grain.
Some trees sported leaves of every size, from bud to full-grown to red
or brown, ready to fall. Kron wondered what the gods who named them-
selves after seasons would think of that. The air was chill and too silent.
Why was the area so dead? The magical battle between Salth and Kron
couldn’t have caused this—their magic had been too focused and con-
tained to have side effects like these. Perhaps the magic that had fallen
from the sky had corrupted the land, though that didn’t fit with the way
it had felt during Kron’s brief encounter. Kron had seen nothing like
this near Vistichia, though he wasn’t certain how much of the star magic
had appeared there.
How much magic was left in this spot? Kron brought out his magic-
finder to check. It still glowed brightly, and the glow increased as he
swung it toward Salth’s former house. Had she put new wards up since
the last visit? How close could he get without risking his life? It was
hard to trust in his own artifacts in the presence of so much devastation.
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 0 1
What he needed was either a way to disguise himself or a way to
extend his own senses. His clothes already bore enough protective en-
hancements; he didn’t want to burden them with another spell. That left
some sort of magical spying device, such as the far-seer Salth had. Kron
grinned. Since he’d created it, he might be able to reaffirm the magic
he’d laid into the device and make it work for him. The only thing he
needed was something to link to the far-seer, something that could show
him what it saw. But he didn’t have a lens or anything made of the same
material as the far-seer.
Kron ventured closer to Salth’s house, pausing every few steps to
look around for materials or any sign of life. After the fourth or fifth
stop, he heard a faint whirring sound coming toward him? A bird? No,
a dark dot flew toward him at rapid speed. It was bigger than he remem-
bered, and now blood red, but Kron still recognized it.
Sal-thaath’s ball. I thought it was destroyed. Where did it come
from, and why is it moving?
The ball bore a human face, complete with heavy eyebrows and a
thick, bent nose. The features weren’t drawn on but seemed to emanate
from inside the ball. The eyes didn’t blink, but the mouth opened and
wailed, “Kroooonnn! Leeeeave this plaaaace!” Then, so quietly Kron
almost couldn’t hear it, “Help me. Help me, please.”
That’s definitely not my enchantment. Kron stared more closely at
it. The face seemed real enough, and very lifelike. Is someone’s spirit
trapped in there? How did Salth manage that—and why?
The pleading expression in the ball spirit’s eyes vanished, and he
bared his teeth and growled at Kron like a dog. Even if the soul inside
needed help, perhaps it was being compelled by Salth to attack him.
Kron pulled on his tunic, and the smooth fabric became stiff as ar-
mor. He flicked a couple of his arrowheads at the flying ball. The
arrowheads scattered, then dove at the ball from different directions.
But the ball swallowed them both and continued its flight toward Kron.
Since Kron didn’t have another weapon at hand, he attempted to re-
move the magic he’d woven into the ball. Maybe that would free the
1 0 2 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n
spirit. His original spell came apart easily—perhaps too easily—but the
ball didn’t come apart. Still, Kron could rip artifacts into their tiniest
components if he had to. If only he could focus...
The ball clamped onto his arm like a leech. His enchanted clothing
saved him from being bitten, but the ball’s jaws chewed back and forth.
Even if they couldn’t pierce the cloth, his arm underneath was going to
be bruised later. Kron shook his arm, trying to dislodge the ball, while
he unhooked his pouch and dumped the contents out. Short pieces of
wood that could be grown into spears, copper nails that could be trans-
formed into daggers—weapons would be useful right now, but they
could backfire. Instead. Kron enlarged the pouch, then placed a spell of
attraction on it. The pouch opened wide and engulfed the ball, stopping
short of claiming Kron’s arm too. The ba
ll ground its mouth against his
muscles, but between shaking his arm and the magic in his pouch, the
ball finally released him. The bag sealed itself but bounced as the ball
inside struggled to escape. Kron hastily reinforced the bag so it couldn’t
break, then pinned it down with the copper nails. Now he could disen-
chant or destroy the ball at his leisure, but he wasn’t sure that was still
a wise idea. What if that harmed the spirit inside, or what if the spirit
was still vicious? Perhaps he could find out.
“Spirit,” he asked. “Does Salth know I’m here? Did she send you
after me, or are you on patrol?”
After several heartbeats filled with snapping sounds and curses, the
ball replied, “Who is Salth?”
“She might be calling herself Time now.”
“I haven’t seen a woman, only a child.”
Kron’s blood froze. “A boy with six fingers?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, where is he now?”
“I don’t know.”
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 0 3
This wasn’t helpful. Kron needed to find out what Salth was doing—
and if Sal-thaath really was alive. If this spirit wasn’t a helpful inform-
ant, then Kron should try something else, such as his original plan of
tapping into Salth’s far-seer from a distance.
“I’ll try to help you later,” he said to the spirit inside the ball. Kron
then plucked a few dry strands of grass and wove them into a rope. He
returned to the riverbank and scooped out a shallow hole with his hands,
then filled it, handful by handful, with water, the closest thing he could
find to glass out here. Finally, he laid the rope around the edge of the
hole, giving it a manmade element to bring both the hole and water un-
der his control. He touched the rope with his fingertips. Show me the
view through the far-seer.
Nothing happened.
Kron pushed harder with his magic, but again nothing happened.
Even if Salth had knocked the far-seer out of position, he should be
seeing something. Either he hadn’t established a strong enough link to
the far-seer, or it no longer existed. Had it been damaged during his
final confrontation with Salth? Kron hadn’t paid attention at the time
and couldn’t trust his memory now. But perhaps there was a way he
could test his idea. Maybe instead of trying to connect directly with his
far-seer, he could use his hobbled-together seer to search for the far-
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