Thorlu strode from the room with Vygel on his heels. In his private quarters, he wheeled to confront his companion. “Do you know what in Sedah is going on?”
“I am as surprised as you.” Vygel lowered his gawkiness onto a chair by the dining table.
Thorlu paced. “Do you believe that creature, or is it lying?” He did an about-face and retraced his steps. “Has it imprisoned The MasTer or worse?”
Vygel pushed a chair with his foot. “Stop that infernal pacing and sit down. We don’t have time to waste. If we can’t find those wretched children, both of us will suffer.”
Glaring down at The MasTer’s Mocendi gave Thorlu a moment of satisfaction, but only a moment. “The entire crew and all our League brothers are scouring the ship for them. Our time might be better spent assuring ourselves that The MasTer is unharmed.”
Vygel shot him a dubious look. “And we do this how? El Soasi is well guarded. How do you propose to bypass the Astican at the entrance?”
Thorlu rotated the ring on his middle finger. The MasTer had given it to him as a reward for his service. Vygel worn an identical one. With them, they could gain access to El Soasi via one of two balcony doors. The danger would be if Abarax had stationed Astican at both secondary entrances.
A buzzer sounded. A young technician appeared on the ID screen. Tightening his jaw, Thorlu touched open. The man entered.
“We might have a lead on the children. A boy appeared in the plantitarium, looked straight at me, and vanished. I can show you where.”
Vygel came to his feet and touched the man’s arm. They vanished.
Muttering a string of obscenities, Thorlu teleported and arrived by the door. On the far side of the space, Vygel and the technician prowled through bushes. Thorlu flashed to their side and joined the hunt. Nothing indicated that anyone had been there. Above their heads, five vents lined a root-covered wall. Around them, bushes covered with small orange flowers thrived.
Vygel peered through the bushes. “Are you positive you saw someone up here?”
The man looked crestfallen. “Of course, I’m sure. I’d never bother you if I weren’t.”
The MasTer’s Mocendi gave him an awkward pat on the back. “Perhaps this wasn’t the place. Let’s go back to the door to make sure you didn’t mistake the direction. Thorlu will stay here and mark the spot.” He ushered the man ahead of him down a manicured path.
Thorlu waited until they were halfway across the plantitarium before he turned to contemplate the wall. Ira had been seen in here, and now Esán. Too many coincidences…
Focusing his intent, he sent a probe through the wall. Nothing registered. And then, he heard it—the smallest intake of breath. He stepped through into the midst of five young people, an elderly woman, and a dog. For the second time, wards he had not created shot up around him.
A mist, muffling the sights and sounds of morning, hung over the small cove where SeaBella lay at anchor. Yaro climbed on deck and sniffed the damp air. He savored the scents of low tide. They reminded him of the swamps of ReTaw au Qa.
Today SeaBella would reach the DoOlbian shoreline closest to the portal. Yaro’s warrior instincts shouted…warning, caution, take care! Footsteps behind him, announced the arrival of Gregos.
The man snorted. “Don’t like the feel of the turning. Don’t like the mist or the low tide. Don’t feel inclined to leave the cove. Tamosh is preparing the weapons. Good thing Cayled and Bibeed both know how to shoot.”
Yaro empathized with the man’s gruffness. “I believe, Captain, that I should go on a reconnaissance flight. Something feels wrong.”
Gregos cast a black look at the mist. “Agreed. I’ll set a watch schedule and keep Renn outta sight. Get back fast as ya can. I’m not moving SeaBella until I’m sure what lies ahead.” He offered Yaro his palm. “Be safe.”
Yaro placed his on top of it. “You, as well. Take care of Renn Whalend.” His shift to laridae carried him skyward. Streaking away from the shore, he began to explore.
A short distance from the cove, the mountains of TheDa softened into rolling hills that flowed into a wide expanse of flat, grassy land dotted here and there with small farms and villages. When he reached the capital city of Inev, he veered east toward the shoreline and followed it north to a river basin, where hills sprinkled with wildflowers and ancient, squatty evergreens rolled north to the arid plains that bordered the desert of Fera Finnero.
The portal’s translucence came into view at the edge of a grove of trees in a shallow valley a chron circle’s march from the shore. Landing at the top of a tree, he surveyed the surrounding countryside. His eyes saw nothing out of the ordinary; his instincts told him differently. He could feel the work of the Mocendi League, and yet they were supposedly no longer on DerTah.
Shaping a fox, he trotted closer. Still, the world appeared normal. Again, he shifted. A small song bird flitted from tree to tree until it perched within an arm’s length of the portal. Unwilling to accept what his senses where telling him, Yaro waited. The DerTahan sun had reached its peak when the air next to the portal wavered and a man stepped into view, rifle in hand.
The man paused, shouldered his gun, and scanned the landscape. Rangy and tall with a swarthy complexion and close set dark eyes, he wore the tattered garb of a tribe Yaro knew as the Spanilmen. They were aggressive fighters, barbarians with a lust of blood and death.
The man called out, “All clear.”
Three more Spanilmen stepped into sight. One glanced over his shoulder.
“Illusion’s holding. Didn’t believe it would. Guess them Mocendi know a thing or two.”
The first Spanilman began issuing orders. “Jak, take a horse and check the landing. See if the boat’s close. Git back here fast.” He pointed at a second man. “You, Deth, head up valley and see what you can find for morning meal. Ket and me, we’ll stay here in case we git some company.”
Jak and Deth lopped away in opposite directions. The remaining two stepped back through the illusion.
Yaro soared high overhead, flew well beyond the portal, and winged his way back through the trees. As he had expected, the men, their campsite, and their horses and wagon were visible on this side of the illusion.
Wasting no more time, he shifted to the laridae’s faster form and streaked straight for the shore in search of the fishing trawler. At the landing, a rickety dock bobbed up and down with the incoming tide. Not far off shore, the boat with its dinghy tied off the starboard side had dropped anchor. Reinforcements had arrived.
Winging his way north, Yaro searched for a place to anchor beyond the landing, one that would allow them to approach the portal from the backside. He spotted two places with potential. With his internal compass as his guide, he headed back to SeaBella .
By the time he landed on the deck, the sun had begun its descent toward afternoon. The mist had long since evaporated and the tide was once more on its way out. Gregos clambered on deck to greet him.
“Took ya long enough.”
Yaro lowered himself onto a bench. “There was much to learn.”
Tamosh appeared in the hatch. “Should we come up, or do you two want to come down?”
Gregos waved him on deck. Cayled, Bibeed, and Renn followed. Yaro gave them time to arrange themselves comfortably. At a signal from Gregos, he began to describe what he had learned. When he finished, no one spoke. All eyes went to Gregos.
The captain bit his bottom lip. “I’m thinking’ ya have a plan, Yaro. Spit it out.”
Yaro looked from Gregos to Tamosh. “How much did your sister teach you about DiMensionery?”
The instant Thorlu stepped through the plantitarium wall, Henri gave the sign. The children circled the startled Mocendi. Wards created by their combined power shimmered into place. Thorlu could not move. Cool, gray-green eyes scanned the group. “And Renn Whalend is where?” His gaze fastened on Henri. “Of course, Henrietta Avetlire, you took her place. I should have guessed.”
Henri shrugged. “Peopl
e see what they expect to see, Thorlu.”
He struggled against the wards. “You will, of course, let me go.”
“I think not. We haven’t decided what to do with you but…” She smiled. “Letting you go is not an option.”
Muffled voices penetrated the wall. “Thorlu, stop playing games. Where are you?”
Thorlu opened his mouth. Henri tapped her palm with her spectacles. He shut it.
Shyllee growled.
Elf pointed. “Vygel’s examining the wall.”
“Tangorra, if you are in there, you’d better answer.” The rap of knuckles— silence—another set of raps.
Henri muttered under her breath.
The slap of a flattened palm, an angry outburst, and a fisted hand appeared. Elf and Ira pulled Vygel Vintrusie into the space.
Henri tapped her spectacles. “Expand the wards.”
The luminescent curtain reformed. The two most powerful Mocendi in the Inner Universe were trapped.
Henri felt their combined power beating against the barrier. “Concentrate. We are strong enough.”
Ira groaned. “I can’t…I”
Henry looked at Brie. “It’s time, niece.”
Brie touched Ira’s temple. Ari gasped and focused her attention. The wards strengthened.
Vygel gapped. “We’ve had both twins the whole time.” His bulging eyes raked Henri’s face. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Allow me,” Thorlu purred. “The aunt of the Guardian of Myrrh and the great-aunt of our twins—Henrietta Avetlire”
Vygel’s brows shot up. “No Renn?”
Thorlu shook his head.
Vygel pressed his colorless lips into a thin line. “It is time to stop playing games. Release us, or you will be sorry you interfered with The MasTer’s Mocendi.” With renewed energy, he fought the wards.
Thorlu closed his eyes and intensified his power. The wards trembled.
Henri called out, “Hold on.”
Shyllee barked, then barked again. The hidey-hole disappeared. Tail wagging, she dashed toward a man emerging from the middle-night sky.
Relevart knelt and rubbed her ears. “Hello, girl. I see you brought me a gift.” He straightened and held his staff high.
“Henrietta, it is good to see you. Hello, children. You can relax. I’ve got them.”
Next to Brie, Esán sagged. She slipped an arm around him.
Thorlu marched forward and came to an abrupt halt. “You can’t keep us against our will, Relevart.”
Vygel remained quiet his eyes resting on the figure of a man limping to Relevart’s side. He murmured, “Wolloh Espyro. I should have known.”
Wolloh met Vygel’s indignant gaze with a disfigured smile. “Vygel Vintrusie, you’re looking better than the last time we met.”
The Mocendi struck the wards with a fist and growled. “I will win the battle this time, Espyro.”
“We shall see.” Wolloh planted his staff next to Relevart’s.
A distant rumble brought a glint to Thorlu’s eye. “Let us go, VarTerel, or you will die at the hand of The MasTer.”
Thunder reverberated across Mittkeer. Lightning tore the heavens in two. Thorlu and Vygel fought harder. The wards wavered.
Relevart raised his staff. “Esán and Brie, on either side of Wolloh. Henri and Ari, join me. Elf, in the middle. Desirol, behind Elf. Shyllee, guard Desirol.”
Henri took her place, pulled her spectacle from a pocket, and perched them on her nose. Billowing smoke rolled through the land of no time. Wings beating the smoke into nothing carried a band of Astican through the stars and blue-black sky.
The leader commanded, “Release The MasTer’s Mocendi.”
Relevart aimed the full power of Froetise at the wards, reinforcing their strength. “Take them if you can.”
Seven Astican circled and then landed. Cherub-blue eyes scanned the line. The leader’s laugh boomed. “VarTerel, you and your feeble group cannot hope to withstand the onslaught of my kind. We have destroyed many a VarTerel before you. And we will end your life here in your domain.”
It unfurled massive wings. “Let the Mocendi go, and we will leave the children unharmed.”
Relevart did not waver. “You will not harm what The MasTer deems important.”
Wolloh’s staff shot light into the night. A veil of stars and sky lifted. Almiralyn, with Corvus one side and Somay on the other formed a line behind Desirol. Torgin stepped in behind the Guardian with Nomed, Lenadi, and Teva behind him. At the back, Wodash od DerTah awaited his destiny.
The leader frowned. “The fight has become unfair. Give us the Mocendi. And we shall see who wins.”
Relevart’s steady gaze never faltered. “I will free the Mocendi to fight with two of my men. If my men win, Thorlu and Vygel are mine to punish as the Order of Esprow demands. If the Mocendi win, we will not visit TreBlaya.”
The leader took a step forward. “If The MasTer’s Mocendi win, the children are ours.”
“So be it.” Relevart released the wards.
Thorlu and Vygel strode to the side of the Astican, their capes flaring. Ill will gleamed in their eyes.
Thorlu raised a scarred hand. “Teva Rivan, when I win, you will pay.”
Vygel snarled, “Prepare for battle, fool.”
Corvus and Somay strode to meet them. Sparks scattered around the four as their wards disintegrated and their DiMensioner’s power fled.
Thorlu retreated. “You did not say that we must fight without our power, VarTerel.”
Relevart shrugged. “Are you afraid, Thorlu Tangorra, to fight man to man?”
Fury in his eye, Thorlu held up his hand. “I would chose my own weapon.”
Relevart nodded.
A rapier materialized and glinted in the starlit atmosphere of Mittkeer. Corvus stepped forward, wielding a raven-black saber. Vygel, poised and ready to fight, sliced the air with the sharp-pointed blade of an épée.
Somay’s eyes gleamed. “Looks like a toothpick I mighta whittled.” The solid haft of a broadsword materialized in his hands. He hefted it with ease, sliced the air one direction and then the other, and grinned. “Now that’s a blade!”
Vygel gaped. Bulging eyes flicked from the delicate slenderness of his weapon to the breadth and length of his opponent’s. He licked pale, thin lips. “I c-c-can’t fight that.”
The VarTerel lifted his staff. “You made your choice, Mocendi. En garde!”
Somay took a menacing step. Vygel yelped and danced backward. The sound of metal on metal pierced the endless night.
Henri watched, her heart in her throat. Beside her, Wolloh and Relevart held the power of DiMensionery at bay.
Thorlu and Corvus fought with the prowess and concentration of trained warriors. Blade against blade, they parried one blow after the other. A slight hesitation impeded Thorlu’s timing. Quick as a raven, Corvus lunged, plowed into his side, and knocked him flat on the star-sprinkled blue. Straddling the Mocendi’s chest, he pressed the black blade to his throat. Thorlu froze. His eyes narrowed.
Vygel let out a squeak of dismay as the tip of Somay’s weapon sliced his cheek. He inhaled a haggard breath, wiped blood from the cut, and made a valiant attempt to dodge Somay’s advance-lunge. His daintier épée bounced off the sturdiness of the broadsword and flipped into the air. With the agility of an athlete, Somay pivoted, caught it on the edge of his blade, and sent it flying out of reach. A quick side-step took him behind the shaken Mocendi. His arm encircling Vygel’s neck left the man gasping for breath. Jamming a foot into the back of his leg, Somay forced him to his knees. Yelping like a wounded dog, Vygel struggled to stand.
Somay tightened his grip. “Be still or die .”
Vygel Vintrusie, The MasTer’s Mocendi, sagged. Behind him, the Astican muttered amongst themselves. Their leader growled over its shoulder. “Quiet, fools. Hold formation.” It fixed its gaze on Relevart. “Release them. You have proven your power. We will take them and leave.”
Releva
rt’s expression remained grim. “Corvus, Somay, bring the Mocendi to me and step away.”
Thorlu scrambled to his feet, smoothed his crumpled clothing, and stood tall and proud. Hard eyes glared above his firm jaw. A bruise forming beneath one eye was the only sign of battle. Vygel stepped to his side, blood smearing his face and dripping from a gash on his arm.
The Universal VarTerel hefted his staff. “You have defamed the statutes of the Arts of DiMensionery. As dictated by the Universal Order of Esprow and the Galactic Guardians of the Fourth Galaxy from the great Central Suns, the punishment for this offense demands banishment from your time period.” He stepped back and pointed his staff at their mid-sections. “Witnesses, one and all, hear and remember.” His words filled the vastness of Mittkeer.
“Banned and banished send them to
A time with lessons hard and true,
Where challenges will redefine
Twixt good and evil in their mind.”
Light flashed from the end of the rowan staff. Vygel and Thorlu cannoned backward through Mittkeer. Shouts of anger and dismay faded as they grew smaller and smaller and vanished from sight.
Relevart addressed the Astican. “Your Mocendi did not win the battle as you expected. Return to TreBlaya. Tell The MasTer what has occurred and that we wish to visit in peace.”
The leader unfurled its wings. “We will take you to The MasTer in pieces, VarTerel.”
Seven Astican lifted into the night, calling to each other in a chorus of strident shrieks. One dropped, talons extended and cherub eyes projecting its fury.
Henri whispered, “ConDria, rise.”
49
Master’s Reach
Myrrh & DerTah
A llynae joined Almiralyn in the Reading Room. Excitement brightened her smile. Wilith looked stunned. She offered a hand. “I have so much to share with you and Sparrow. Wilith, please watch over the fountain. Merrilea is resting and Elae is checking on Zugo. We won’t be long.”
The UnFolding Collection Three Page 55