“Earth sickness?” Raine was stunned. No wonder she’d felt like crap her entire life. She’d had an autoimmune response to an entire planet.
“You’re cured, Rainey.” Mimsie clapped her hands. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
Cured? Raine’s legs buckled and she sat down on the nearest rock, her mind spinning. She realized suddenly that she’d been holding her breath for weeks, terrified her illness would return, refusing to get her hopes up in case her newfound, glorious, unanticipated health was a cruel, cosmic joke.
“It’s fabulous news. I-I don’t know what to say.”
Kron shifted on his enormous feet and gave Mimsie a questioning look. “What of the other matter? Do you still wish me to . . .?”
“Absolutely,” Mimsie said. “She’s been through hell. She deserves a choice.”
“If you insist.” Kron turned his potent stare on Raine. “’Tis not my habit to traffic in things that are not my concern, but your aunt has persuaded me to intervene on your behalf. She tells me that you have been ill used by certain meddling wizards. For her sake, I will send you back to Earth, if that is your desire.”
“But the Earth sickness—”
“Will not return,” Kron said. “Skorrgamgrogskyttrsplok’s infusion has rendered you impervious to illness. It is a rare and unusual gift. He has little use for your species, as a rule, and seldom intercedes in human affairs.”
“What is he, exactly?” Raine asked. “Is he a god, like you?”
“Skorrgamgrogskyttrsplok is older than the gods. He simply is.” Kron folded his arms on his massive chest. “Back to the business at hand. Earth or Tandara, which is it to be? You must choose and choose now.”
Raine was dazed. “I . . . I don’t know what to do. This is happening too fast.”
“I know it’s sudden, baby girl,” Mimsie said, “but you have to choose.”
“And if I decide to stay?”
“This is it, Rainey, the last balloon out of Oz. Something about the planets and the confluence of the stars. I had to do some fast talking to get Ronnie to agree to help you. If you stay, you’re stuck.”
Home. Raine’s heart pounded. Back to Earth, only this time she’d be healthy, thanks to Squeak. Back to air conditioning, central heating, modern plumbing, and automobiles. Back to movies and malls and instant music and fast food. She could go to college. Meet a nice young man. Marry and settle down. Have children. No more insane adventures. No more Dark Wizard. She’d be safe.
No, she wouldn’t. Glonoff had sent a demon to Earth to kill her once. He’d do it again. The Dark Wizard was relentless. Look what he’d done to Bree and his loved ones, and they were his kin. He’d kill her and anyone she cared about—husband, children, friends—and there’d be no magic or wizards to save her.
“What about you, Mims?” Raine asked. “If I go home, will you go, too?”
Mimsie straightened her slim form. “We’re family. I go where you go.”
Raine heard the quiver in the ghost’s voice. Mimsie was willing to sacrifice her eternal happiness for her.
“What is this?” Kron demanded. “Had I known you would leave me, I would not have made the offer.”
“But you did make it.” Mimsie gave him a tremulous smile. “You gave me your word and you’ll keep it.”
Kron ground his teeth and black lightning flashed in his dark eyes. “Choose,” he said to Raine. “What is it to be? Do you go or abide?”
Glonoff had killed her family. He’d killed Trudy and Kipp and who knew how many others. He was a terrible, terrible man. He had to be stopped
Morven? the childish voice spoke in her head.
Flame. What would happen to Flame if she left? And Tiny. She longed to see Tiny again.
“I’m staying,” Raine said.
Mimsie clapped her hands. “Oh, goody. Hear that Ronnie? We’re staying.”
“I heard.” Kron turned away. “Let us depart. I would discuss your lack of candor in private.”
“Yes, dear.” Mimsie winked at Raine. “Bye, baby girl.”
Kron and Mimsie vaporized, leaving Raine alone in the cave.
Morven? Flame poked his shimmering head out of her cloak.
Correction: almost alone.
“It’s okay. They’re gone,” she assured him. “Come on. Let’s go find my friends. They’ll be worried.”
Do friends like snakes? Flame’s childish voice throbbed with anxiety.
“They’ll love you,” Raine said and crossed her fingers.
They left the cave and Raine retraced her steps around the grotto. She stepped out of the hidden canyon and looked around. Forest, forest, everywhere, and she had no sense of direction. She listened for the sound of the ocean, but only the whisper of the wind greeted her ears. Her stomach rolled. She and Flame were lost.
“Squeak?” she called. The green man would know the way back to the shore. “Squeak?” she called again.
There was no answer. She and Flame were on their own. Should she strike out through the woods or stay here and wait for someone to find them? If they found them.
She was weighing the wisdom of each course when an enormous black troll charged out of the woods with an enormous roar.
Chapter 44
Revelations
The troll’s ferocious bellow startled a flock of birds into flight. Flame trilled in alarm and dove inside Raine’s cloak.
“Go away,” Raine shrieked, groping for the stone at her breast. “Leave me alone.”
The troll fastened its burning gaze on her and stalked closer. “Leave you alone? I should do that. I should leave you for the goggins. Of all the stupid, ill-conceived, thoughtless—”
Raine halted in confusion. She knew that voice. She knew—
Gertie bounded out of the woods. “Easy, son. No need to frighten her.”
The black troll’s form wavered and Raven stood there, his chest heaving. “She needs to be frightened.” He clenched and unclenched his hands. “She needs—”
He shook his head, unable to continue.
“I know.” Gertie patted him on the back. “Walk it off.”
Raven stalked over to a fallen tree and sat down with his back to them. Every line of his big body was rigid with suppressed fury.
Gertie shook her head. “I’m afraid he’s a little out of sorts.”
“Out of sorts?” Raine said. “He was a troll.”
“He’s found his halmo.” Gertie’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “Got a whiff of demon in the woods and shifted.”
“Found his what?” Raine said, keeping an eye on Raven, in case he trolled out again.
“Any wizard worth his salt can shapeshift,” Gertie said, “but a halmo is a wizard’s true aspect, a reflection of his inner self. Raven’s halmo is a troll.” She brushed her paws across her eyes. “I’m that proud, I am. But enough about Raven. Explain yourself, girlie. What were you thinking, running off like that?”
“Glonoff cast a spell on me,” Raine said. “He made me think that Chaz had gone into the forest. I went after him.”
“Glonoff cast a spell?” The troll’s eyes flared. “And you went into the woods, anyway? Are you mad?”
“I didn’t know it was him. I thought I could catch Chaz before he went too far. By the time I realized it was a trick, it was too late. Then Squeak arrived and—”
Gertie held up a paw. “Who is Squeak?”
“Shadow. Tall Man? Big fellow with skin like bark. He told me to call him Squeak.”
The troll’s eyes widened. “Skorrgamgrogskyttrsplok was here?”
“Yes. He saved me from the demon.”
“Hear that, son?” Gertie raised her voice. “You were right. There was a demon.”
Raven hunched his shoulders and made no response.
“Definitely in a huff,” Gertie sai
d, shaking her head. “Now, gal. You were saying?”
“Squeak took me to find Flame.”
“Who?”
“A snake.” Raine patted the lump on her shoulder. “You can come out. She won’t hurt you.”
Flame stuck his snout out of Raine’s cloak, his tongue flicking. Morven?
Raine met the astonished troll’s gaze. “This is Flame. He’s been talking to me all day. At first, I ignored him, because I thought it was another of Glonoff’s tricks.”
“Well, of course it was Glonoff,” Gertie said. “Gods above and below, girl, have you no care for your own hide?”
“I told you, Squeak took me to find him.”
“Humph,” said Gertie. “That one keeps his own counsel, but I’ve never known him to be treacherous. Still, I’d like to have a look at this snake of yours, to ease my mind.”
“Flame?” Raine asked, stroking the snake’s head.
I will let this one examine me, if morven wishes.
“Thank you. I think it would be a good idea. To keep the peace, you know.”
The snake slithered into Gertie’s paws and allowed the troll to inspect him with her wizard stone. The troll ran the glowing stone up and down the reptile’s body.
“I don’t detect the taint of dark magic on him.” She returned the snake to Raine. “It’s peculiar, and no lie, the way you found him. And you say he talks?”
“Not out loud. In here.” Raine tapped her temple. “I hear his thoughts.”
“Stranger and stranger,” Gertie said. “What do you mean to do with this snake?”
“I’m taking him with me,” Raine said. “I can’t leave him. He just hatched.”
“Not without Raven’s approval, you don’t.” Gertie turned. “Raven? Come here, son.”
Raven rose from the log and strode over. “Yes, mor?”
He seemed calm and in control once more.
“Raine’s found a snake. She wants to take him on the Storm.”
“Raine doesn’t like snakes.”
“I like this one.” Raine lifted her chin. “And I’m keeping him.”
Raven regarded Flame, his expression impassive. “What do you think, mor?”
Gertie shrugged. “I looked the critter over. Seems harmless to me.”
Raven said a few words in the rasping, sibilant language he’d used with the sea snake, but Flame remained silent.
Morven? The creature speaks, but Flame does not know what it said.
“He can’t understand you,” Raine told Raven. “I think he’s too young.”
“A snake that doesn’t speak snake.” Raven stared at her for a long moment. “Very well. Something tells me I’m going to regret this, but you may bring him.”
“Thank you,” Raine said, relieved.
Raven held up his hand. “But the first time he bites one of my men, he goes overboard.”
“He won’t,” Raine promised.
“And should he spoil my stores, he goes overboard,” Raven continued. “Should he get underfoot, he—”
“—goes overboard,” Raine said. “I understand. He won’t be any trouble. I prom—”
Raven turned on his heel and stalked into the woods.
“Well,” Raine said indignantly. “What crawled up his shorts and died?”
“You,” Gertie said. “You’ve given us all a fright. Come along. You’ve caused enough bother for one day.”
The troll dropped to all fours and loped after Raven. Raine followed more slowly, feeling misunderstood and resentful. Gertie and Raven acted like this was her fault, but it wasn’t.
A short way through the woods, they met Mauric and a party of sailors from the Storm. Mauric was in the lead, sword drawn. Flame took one look at the Finlars and ducked out of sight.
Mauric halted. “You found her. Is she hurt?”
“Nah,” Gertie said. “Had a bit of an adventure, that’s all.”
“But she’s not hurt?”
“She’s fine.”
Mauric turned on Raine, his expression savage. “Of all the idiotic, gog-headed—”
Squeak rolled out of the forest, ending Mauric’s diatribe. The sprigs on the top of the green man’s head waved in agitation.
“Produce me the tree murderer,” Squeak said with a torrent of angry chirps and whistles. “Show him to me.” He glared at the dumbfounded Finlars. “Well? Which one of you beavers killed my trees?”
“He didn’t mean it,” Gertie said, holding up her paws. “He wasn’t himself.”
“Who wasn’t himself?” Squeak demanded. “Show yourself.”
“I am to blame.” Raven stepped forward. “I was in a rage. I apologize.”
“Apologies don’t heal broken roots.” Squeak’s long face wrinkled in a frown of deep censure. “Two oaks felled in their prime. Amends must be made, yes.”
“What sort of amends?” Raven asked, looking wary.
Squeak bubbled and chirped for a moment. “As you killed the root, so you must plant the seed to atone for your crime.” He handed Raven a bulging sack. “The onus will remain unbroken until the last acorn is sown.”
“You can’t be serious,” Raven protested. “I’m a warrior, not a blasted tree farmer.”
“Until the last acorn is sown,” Squeak repeated in throbbing accents, and tromped away.
Mauric gaped after the green man. “What the trodyn hell was that?”
“His name is Squeak,” Raine said. “He’s got another name, but I can’t pronounce it.”
“Skorrgamgrogskyttrsplok,” Gertie muttered.
“That’s it,” Raine said. “As for what he is, I’m not sure, but Kron says he’s older than the gods.”
“Kron?” Gertie regarded Raine in astonishment. “When did you talk to Kron?”
“In the cave where I found Flame. Kron offered to send me back home.”
“He did, did he?” The troll’s yellow eyes narrowed. “And you obviously declined. Why?”
Raine kicked at the leaves with her boot, and shrugged. “Oh, well, you know. I have my reasons.”
“That’s a lot of acorns,” Mauric said, examining the bag in Raven’s hands. “Good thing the old stump doesn’t know you chopped down a tree for a mast. You’d have to give up fighting and take up tree planting, permanent-like.”
“Shut up, Mauric.” Raven looked around. “Why is everybody standing around? Back to the ship.”
* * * *
Two days later, the new mast was up, and Raven pronounced the Storm seaworthy. They set sail in the early afternoon, anxious to leave Shad Amar behind, and made good time until a winter squall hit. Forced below deck by the weather, Raine waited for the storm to pass. She paced back and forth. She’d been in the cabin for hours and she was feeling suffocated. Flame was curled up on the narrow bed, fast asleep. With one last glance at the snake, Raine slipped out of the chamber and up on deck. She took a deep breath of the salty night air. The storm was spent and the stars were out. Wrapping her cloak around herself, she navigated the slippery deck, avoiding a mine field of wet ropes. She heard voices and slipped deeper into the shadows. Gertie and Bree were talking. Curiosity got the better of her, and she crept closer.
“—never did tell me what Reba had to say about her god stone,” Gertie was saying.
Brefreton exhaled. “Quite a lot, actually.”
“Rough on you, was she?”
“I think I can say with absolute certainty that I’m not her favorite disciple anymore.”
“Aw, that’s too bad.”
“I don’t blame her for being upset.” Brefreton sounded miserable. “I still can’t believe I lost it.”
“A god stone is an incredibly dangerous object. If it were to fall into the wrong hands. Glonoff’s, for instance . . .”
“I know, I know. That w
ould be a bad thing.”
“Which is why,” Gertie continued in a stern voice, “we’d better hope it stayed on Urp with the drabs.”
“I suppose you’re right, though it seems a terrible waste.”
“Bree, never say you’re lusting after Reba’s little toy.”
“Maybe a little.”
“Forget it. It’s called a ‘god’ stone for a reason. It’s too much for you to handle. You’d blow yourself to pieces.”
“I used it to open the portal with no problem.”
“With Reba’s guidance and approval, but you’d find it a great deal harder to control on your own. What do you want with a god stone anyway? You’ve never been a power grubber. I had to make you do your lessons when you were a youngling.”
“I’d kill Glonoff with it.” Brefreton’s voice was grim.
“Tempting, I’ll admit,” Gertie said. “But we don’t have the god stone. What’s the plan?”
“Keep moving.”
Gertie snorted in disgust. “Let me guess. More of Reba’s brilliant advice?”
“No. Reba’s not talking to me.”
“Good. We’re better off without her. Reba plays a deep game. I can’t guess what she’s about, but Raine’s at the center of it.” Gertie growled deep in her throat. “Confound it, Bree, I’m fond of the girl. I don’t want to see her hurt.”
“I’m fond of her too, but we can’t let our feelings get in the way.” Brefreton’s voice hardened. “Pawns sometimes have to be sacrificed to win. And this is a game we can’t afford to lose.”
They drifted out of earshot and their voices faded away. Raine stood where she was, unmoving, hurt and resentment churning in her stomach.
Mimsie appeared, her slim form aglow. “That’s the trouble with eavesdropping. You sometimes hear things you don’t like.”
“I thought they were my friends.” She slumped to the deck. “I feel so stupid.”
“They are your friends, Rainey, but they’re in a real mess.” Mimsie sat down beside her. “That Glonoff fellow has an army. Word is, he’s in cahoots with the Torgs, and nothing I hear about the Torgs is good.”
“Did ‘Ronnie’ tell you that?”
A Meddle of Wizards Page 41