The UnFolding Collection Three

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The UnFolding Collection Three Page 3

by S. K. Randolph


  Almiralyn’s face emerged like an image on the surface of Elcaro’s Eye. Her beautiful sapphire eyes gleamed. Her sensitive mouth shaped an enchanting smile. He could almost feel the gentleness of her touch. How he ached to be near her.

  A chill shattered her image and concentrated his thoughts on his return to DerTah. He had rescued the Dansgirl Nichi from the LaTiru, taken her to her family, and lifted into flight above Eissua Oasis headed for Shu Chenaro. Wolloh needed him at the ranch, and yet his heart teased him to return to Myrrh. Conflicted emotions obscured his awareness of the world around him. Heat searing his wing tips screamed a warning. Too late he tried to dodge. Fiery talons crushed the breath from his body, dislocating his left wing. Piercing pain pitched him into unconsciousness.

  His next clear memory—a cage surrounded by glistening wards and Nissasa Rattori’s triumphant eyes peering at him between the bars. Unending questions and Nissasa’s torturous reprisals left him exhausted and weak. His chest bore the wounds of each burning probe that resulted from his refusal to answer. He had begun to wonder how much more he could withstand when a soldier entered, whispered a message, and left with Nissasa hurrying after.

  Time drifted by with the slowness of his descent through the Abyss of the Dead with Desirol. He floated in a state of semi-consciousness, where pain was all he knew. The cage being moved and strapped to the back of a rohes, shook him back to wakefulness. A torturous journey jostled him until he almost wished he were dead. Desert heat left him panting and dizzy. The cold of night made him puff up his feathers and crouch lower on his perch.

  He had almost reached the end of his physical endurance when the group of Sebborr surrounding him, came to a halt within the gated grounds of a fortress, set up camp, and moved his cage into the confines of a tent. Fresh water and food were set out for him, and then all grew quiet.

  The Sebborr had returned to camp and retired for what remained of the night when a cloaked figure slipped into the tent. Gentle hands lifted him from the cage. Skilled fingers explored his injured wing, gripped a dislocated bone, and jerk it into place. Pain dropped him once again into unconsciousness. When he resurfaced, a blanket rather than cage bars enclosed him. Strong arms cradled him. The sounds of a beating heart and the muted clip clop of a horse’s hooves were all that he could hear. Too weak to fight and hopeful that by some miracle he was being rescued, he had let the pitch and sway of the ride soothe his battered body.

  Where am I? Who is my rescuer? What does he know about me? Sidestepping along the perch like fingers over worry beads, he blinked unanswerable questions back into oblivion and stopped, his head tipped to listen. Silence, thick and saturated with the violence of another time, pressed in on him. Nothing alive stirred. How long had it been since he had felt safe enough to let down his guard? In order to heal, he needed rest. Tucking his head beneath his uninjured wing, he slept.

  Wolloh Espyro lay in the cool quiet of his bedroom at Shu Chenaro, trying to piece together the past few hours. The setting of wards to protect the ranch and to obscure the departure of the children to safety had left him in an exhausted heap at the center of the arena. Once One Man had secured the wards with the help of Gerolyn, Stebben, and Allynae, Stebben had carried him here, tucked him in bed, and demanded he rest.

  He tried to sit up and fell back on the pillows. Fatigue weighted his body like stone. Every joint on his disfigured left side ached. His head throbbed and his parched throat longed for relief. I need water . As the thought flitted across his mind, an arm slid under his shoulders and lifted him enough to sip from an offered glass.

  Stebben lowered him and sat down beside him. “How do you feel?”

  “More tired than I can ever remember. Wards?”

  “We reconstructed them. One Man interwove a spell of deflection throughout. They remain intact—at least for now.”

  “The children?”

  “They teleported. When I searched Atkis, I couldn’t find them. We haven’t located them yet.”

  “And Corvus. Has he returned?”

  Stebben shook his head.

  “I was afraid of that.” Wolloh closed his eyes, took in a breath, and released it in a long, soft whoosh. “How long have I been out?”

  “It’s approaching Tri-Nular. All three moons are almost visible.”

  A spasm of pain made him grimace. “If I don’t rest, I won’t be of help to anyone. I need to sleep, my friend. Call me when Lunule hits its zenith. By then, I should be able to function.”

  Stebben settled him more comfortably. “Until the third moon, then. I’ll be near if you need anything.” The door closed with a whispered click.

  Wolloh stared up at the ceiling, reflecting on the events of the past several turnings. Nissasa Rattori is a dangerous adversary, one we can’t afford to underestimate. I feel sure the Mocendi League is behind his betrayal of Lorsedi and Desirol. A yawn overpowered his thought process. He ignored it, regrouped, and continued. Both Esán and Brielle are capable of handling most things that come their way. Together they should be fine. Still, I wish they had an adult with them. I wish Nomed were here. And where on DerTah is Corvus? He yawned again and repositioned his throbbing left hip. I’ll think better when I’ve slept . Humming a quiet, meditative tune, he drifted at last into restless, dream-laden slumber.

  Stebben’s voice brought him to wakefulness several hours later. “Wolloh, Lunule shines overhead. It is time.”

  He rubbed his eyes and lay still, ignoring the weariness that made him disinclined to move. “I’ll get dressed. Please ask One Man, Gerolyn, and Allynae to meet us in the conference chamber. We have decisions to make.”

  “Do you need anything before I go?”

  Wolloh sat up and pushed the bedding aside. “I’ll be fine. Give me a half circle of the chronometer.” He reached for his cane and gazed thoughtfully at the crystal knob. When he looked up, Stebben had departed.

  Once attired for the coolness of evening, he stood in the quiet room, assessing his strength. The mere act of dressing had depleted his meager energy. He sat down on the bed and rested his head on the knob of his cane. At the center, a light began to glow. Wolloh jerked his head up, gasped in pain, and slumped forward, oblivious to the world around him.

  In the form of a Dertahan red hawk, One Man soared over Shu Chenaro, sharp raptor eyes picking out and assessing the stability of the wards surrounding Wolloh’s land. He had done what he could to strengthen them, but not before a short battle had occurred between Lorsedi’s soldiers and Nissasa’s men. He doubled back to soar again over the battlefield. I wonder why the Sebborr joined forces with the traitors and then did not involve themselves in the scrimmage?

  Below him, men on both sides of the shield hurried to regroup. The wounded were being helped to shelter. It did not appear that anyone on either side had been killed. The quick action of Wolloh’s small group of DiMensioner-trained comrades had raised the wards back into place before the casualty count could rise too high.

  Swooping lower, he searched for Lorsedi or a Pentharian—either Voer or Yaro. The gleam of blue scales brought him into a long glide that ended a short distance from where Voer completed a conversation with a group of soldiers. One Man studied the creature from the planet of ReTaw au Qa. His long braids, multiple piercings, and tattoos made him stand out. But it was his immense height and his lapis blue scales and lizard legs and tail that marked him as alien to this world.

  The soldiers dispersed and Voer joined him. “How’s Wolloh?”

  “He’s resting. We haven’t located the children, but we will. I need to see Lorsedi.”

  The Pentharian led the way to a dugout where the Largeen Joram met with his staff. While Lorsedi completed his meeting, One Man listened to Voer’s account of the battle and took stock of his surroundings. Soldiers in combat uniforms worked with trained precision to redeploy equipment and men along the desert border. “RewFaaran troops are certainly well trained.”

  Voer indicated the confusion on the other side of
the wards. “It is unfortunate Nissasa’s aspirations created discord.”

  One Man searched the traitor’s camp. “I don’t see Nissasa anywhere. The Sebborran leader, Dahe Terah, and the Dreela Gidtuss appear to be absent as well.”

  “Discipline is vital to the warrior. Nissasa’s Brigade…” Voer shook his head.

  Lorsedi dismissed his staff and waved them over. “The shields fell, One Man. What happened?”

  One Man shared what had occurred with Wolloh, the children, and Corvus.

  The Largeen Joram ran a hand through his flaming red hair. “At least the young people are together. I hope Desirol doesn’t do anything…silly. He told me about his behavior at Nesune.” He studied One Man’s face. “What brings you here?”

  “Stebben and I believe it is vital to have someone at the front who has been trained in DiMensionery. Gerolyn has volunteered to join you.”

  Lorsedi’s expression went from open interest to stern denial. “It’s too dangerous. I can’t be worried about her while I’m battling with Nissasa.”

  “She felt sure you would react this way, but I’ll let her speak for herself.” He raised his arm and waved.

  A DerTahan hawk landed beside them. Gerolyn appeared, dressed in desert gear. “I can take care of myself, Lorsedi. We need to keep communications open, and we need to know you are safe. I am the best one to do the job while Wolloh is incapacitated.”

  One Man drew Voer aside as a heated discussion ensued. “I have to go back. Try to convince Lorsedi to allow Gerolyn to stay. We need to be in touch. I can’t keep flying back and forth to make sure he is safe. Too much is happening.”

  The tall Pentharian observed the two opponents. “I will take care of this, my friend. Go.” He strode to Gerolyn’s side and looked down at Lorsedi. “Yaro and I will be responsible for Gerolyn’s safety. We need her assistance.”

  Lorsedi pivoted and walked several steps, paused, and returned. “I will allow it if you, Gerolyn, promise to leave if the risk becomes too high. When battle is in full swing, the front is no place for a woman.”

  Gerolyn smiled. “I am not a RewFaaran woman, Lorsedi, but I do promise to leave if it becomes too hazardous for me to stay.”

  Voer turned and waved. One Man shifted. Hawk wings carried him back to the ranch house—back to many decisions that had to be made, not the least of which was how to find Esán and his friends.

  3

  Master’s Reach

  Myrrh

  H enrietta stood in a forest of green stems and leaves. Above her head sunflowers stretched toward the Myrrhinian sun and bobbed in the gentle autumn breeze. As soon as her feet had touched the ground, the Tropal Portal from The Borderlands whirled back into itself and faded into a barely visible blur. It had been nearly fifteen sun cycles since she had first stepped into it on her way to Idronatti. She remembered the turning Karrew had flown into her home on KcernFensia—the turning that had changed her life forever.

  Muggy heat drove her to the open window, where a sea breeze rustled the sheer curtains and fanned her flushed cheeks. “What has happened to my life? Where’s the adventure I have always dreamt about? All my training at the Temple of Mahyinaeh didn’t prepare me to sit home and do nothing, yet here I am.” She flopped down in a chair, bit her lip, and studied her surroundings. Her conclusion—beautiful, elegant, and, boring.

  Bounding up, she flounced around the room and came to a halt beside a table laden with framed family portraits. Her sister’s beautiful face smiled back at her. She sighed. “Mairin, where are you? You’ve been gone far too long. Almiralyn and Allynae are in Myrrh, and I haven’t heard a word from them either. I miss you. I miss your children. I even miss your companion. How is Lanli anyway?” She faced the room. “I am beginning to hate—”

  A raven swooping through the open window silenced her monologue. She dashed across the room and flung her arms around the Human man who had materialized in its place. “Corvus! What brings you to KcernFensia? I have missed you so much. How’s Mira? Alli? Do you like Myrrh?”

  A deep chuckle shook his chest and made her giggle. He held her at arm’s length. “We miss you, too, Henri.”

  Prancing with delight, she pulled a cord by the door. Within minutes, a young woman entered and set a tray on a table between two chairs. She caught her mistress’ eye, laughed softly, and departed.

  Henri sat down on the edge of a chair. “Sit. Tea?”

  “I love your special tea.” He joined her, accepted a fragile cup, and inhaled the aroma. “You always remember my favorite.” He took a sip and placed the cup and saucer on the table.

  Henrietta’s curiosity exploded into words. “Don’t just sit there! Why are you here? I know you didn’t travel all this way just to see me.”

  Corvus sat back and smiled. “To the contrary, I am delighted to see you. It’s been far too long. But you’re right—I do have another reason for this visit. I have a proposition for you, at least Mira does.” He grew quiet, his dark eyes searching her face.

  “Tell me! I’m all ears.”

  “Allynae is in love and has secretly joined to SparrowLyn AsTar.”

  “What! How did he meet her—Gerolyn’s daughter—the daughter of the Largeen Joram of RewFaar?”

  Corvus rested his hands on his knees and quickly outlined the story as he knew it. When he reached the part where Sparrow discovered her pregnancy, he paused.

  Henrietta smoothed a stray strawberry blonde curl away from her face. “She’s in Idronatti. He’s in Myrrh. Does he know?”

  She watched a frown erase the dimple in Corvus’ cheek. “Almiralyn can’t tell Alli, Henri, because he’ll run back to Myrrh and get himself thrown in the Five Towers.”

  “Then who will look after Sparrow and their baby? How will they manage in Idronatti by themselves?” A delighted smile spread from her mouth to her eyes. “I will. I’ll go to Idronatti and watch over them.”

  Corvus picked up his tea and sipped its fragrant warmth. “Mira was hoping you’d volunteer.” A relieved smile deepened the dimple. “There are a couple of drawbacks, Henri.”

  She ran a dainty finger around the rim of her teacup and considered the ramifications of sun cycles spent on the planet of Thera. Ordering the list in her head, she looked at Corvus and shrugged. “The worst thing—my longevity will be impacted—I’ll age more rapidly. Of course, I could sit around here and die of boredom, while you and Mira are having adventures.” She tapped her chin. “My luxurious and lazy lifestyle will come to an end. I can’t think that I’ll miss it. Life without meaning is not cured by wealth and luxury, but by action.”

  A walk to the window presented another drawback. She loved the ocean, the scent of it, the feel of sea air against her skin, sailing… On the other hand, Mairin, whom she adored, and Lanli had left on a perilous journey, one from which they might not return. Their children, Almiralyn and Allynae, now lived on Myrrh. It seemed everyone she loved had left her behind.

  Fingering the silk of the curtain, she conceded that KcernFensia was her home, and she would miss it. More important, however, Almiralyn would not ask if it were not essential. She dropped the curtain and turned to find Corvus standing behind her. He took her hands in his.

  “Do you still want to come?”

  She squeezed his strong fingers. “Tell Mira I’ll join her as soon as I have taken care of a few details here.”

  Corvus flashed a delighted grin. “The babies are due in six Theran moon cycles, and Sparrow will be moving from her dorm to a new apartment one moon cycle prior to their birth.”

  Henri blinked and laughed. “She’s having twins!” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “And they are girls, identical twin girls. I can’t wait.”

  He wrapped her in a warm embrace, then stepped back to meet her gaze. “Now perhaps Mira can stop worrying. I have to go.” A quick kiss on the cheek and his raven form soared out the window.

  She stared after him until she could no longer see even a speck of black in the sky. P
ouring a fresh cup of tea, she sat for some time, absorbing the seriousness of what she had agreed to. Doubt nudged her to renege. Laughter gurgled up in her throat. “I said yes, and I meant it. Finally, an adventure!”

  The soft whir of wings made her set aside her memories. A tiny boy landed on a large leaf. A wide grin encompassed the bottom half of his face. “Welcome to Myrrh. Major Jordett sent me to meet you.”

  Pulling large, lavender rimmed spectacles from her pocket, she perched them on her nose and peered at him.

  “You are a Nyti. Am I correct?”

  “Yep. I’m Ashor, and you’re Henrietta.” He hovered in front of her and pointed. “Those make your eyes really big.”

  “They make you bigger, too. My friends call me Henri.”

  “Mine call me Ash. Come on, the Major and Tinpaca Mondago, the RewFaaran captain, are waiting.”

  Ashor zipped through the tent entrance and hovered near the table. “Henri is here.”

  Jordett excused himself and stepped outside. Tottering toward him was a diminutive, elderly woman. Perched on her white curls was a wide-brimmed hat. On top, periwinkle flowers danced to the rhythm of her steps. He couldn’t help but smile. She was a character, one he found not only entertaining, but also knowledgeable and intelligent.

  “Miss Henrietta, you look quite fetching in your hat. Welcome to Myrrh.” He strode toward her and offered his arm.

  She took it and gave him a coy smile from under her wide brim. “I do love hats, Major. It is good to see you, even if circumstances are not the most favorable.”

 

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