Blood of Mystery

by Mark Anthony

  They found it on their first day of exploration, floating in the topmost chamber of the tower: a three-sided pillar of black stone, its surface carved all over with runes. Travis had learned his lesson at the Gray Tower, and he never touched more than one or two runes at once, and always let the shimmer of magic fade before he touched another rune and listened to its name spoken in his mind.

  While Travis spent most of his time in the highest chamber, the others preferred the lowest chamber, and they made their camp there. It was a vast space, no doubt used long ago for gatherings of all the Runebreakers. A staircase circled around the wall, rising without railing to the levels above. The lower perimeter of the chamber was lined with a colonnade that provided many alcoves and nooks, and it was in these where they stowed their supplies and made their beds.

  With Durge’s help in moving stones, Lirith set up a kitchen just outside the door of the tower, and Sareth fashioned clever chairs from willow switches so they could sit around the fire as they ate their supper. They had replenished their supplies in Brelegond, and Durge was able to snare several rabbits. All the same, although no one spoke of it, they all knew their food would not hold out forever.

  However, although they scoured the tower, they found little in its many chambers besides the runestone itself. Travis didn’t know how long ago the Runebreakers had vanished, but certainly by the dust and cobwebs the tower had been abandoned for more than a century. Only where had they gone? The Runebinders had destroyed themselves with the folly of their pride, but that didn’t seem the case there. The tower was bare, as if the Runebreakers had taken everything with them when they left. That didn’t suggest a hasty or violent departure.

  The runestone itself held no answer to that mystery; it had been forged long before, in the time of Malachor. All the same, Travis learned much by studying it, and the knowledge he gained thrilled him as much as it terrified him. No wonder the Witches feared the one called Runebreaker. Without doubt, from what Travis read, the Runebreakers were by far the most powerful of the three orders of runic magic.

  Yet they didn’t use that power to gain command of the Dominions, Travis. They could have brought down a castle with a single rune. They could have broken apart all of the water molecules in a lake, turning it to hydrogen and oxygen, and setting off a devastating explosion with a single spark. It’s just like Jack said. They could have broken the sky itself.

  Only they didn’t find the rune of sky. Or any other bound runes anywhere in the tower, including the rune of time. They searched every chamber again and again. Durge and Sareth ran their hands over every wall, searching for secret niches. Lirith tried to use the power of the Weirding to search with her mind. And Travis dared to whisper the rune Sar, calling on the very stones of the tower itself to help him.

  It was no use. “It’s not here,” Travis said, as they gathered around the campfire, eating the very last of their food. He gazed at Durge, Lirith, and Sareth, meeting their grim eyes. “We have to face it, we’re not going to find it.”

  “Well,” Lirith said briskly, “it was worth a try. Perhaps this century won’t be so terrible to live in.”

  Sareth squeezed her hand. “It won’t be as long as you’re in it, beshala.”

  “But we do not all have to stay here, do we?” Durge said, his voice low, his brown eyes thoughtful. There was something in his hands; startled, Travis realized it was his silver deputy’s badge. “Did not Sir Tanner say Castle City was in need of a new sheriff? And did not Lord Graystone say Sinfathisar could send one across worlds?” He looked up and met Travis’s gaze.

  Fear gripped Travis’s heart, and it wasn’t just the thought of Durge being a world away. The knight didn’t know what he was asking. Travis opened his mouth to explain that he couldn’t do it, that he didn’t dare use the Stone. Not now, after the blood of the scarab had entered his veins.

  However, before he could speak, the sharp sound of a stick breaking echoed off the wall of the tower, and they all turned to see a man walking toward their fire. So shocked were they all to see another human being in those wilds that they simply stared as he drew near.

  He was short and muscular of build, and for a moment Travis thought it might be one of the two farmer’s sons, come back to try to rob them again. Then the other drew closer. He was a young man with a homely, cheerful face, his nose broad and crooked, his lips rubbery. He wore a simple brown robe, and there was something in his hands. It was hard to see what it was in the failing light.

  Travis rose to his feet as the young man halted a few feet away. This was impossible; there was no way he could be here. The last time Travis had seen him had been at the Gray Tower, over a hundred leagues and a hundred years from this place, this time. All the same, here he was.

  “Sky?” Travis said.

  The young man smiled, a grin that revealed the dark stump of his missing tongue. He held out the object he had been carrying. It was a disk of creamy white stone, and on it was engraved a symbol: two triangles, one inverted over the other.

  65.

  They spoke late into the night—although speaking wasn’t exactly the word for it. Eloquent as they were, it seemed impossible Sky’s gestures could carry so much meaning as they did. But that wasn’t the only thing that seemed impossible about Sky. The young man looked just the same as when Travis had encountered him—would encounter him?—at the Gray Tower of the Runespeakers more than a hundred years later.

  “Who are you, Sky?” Travis said as darkness closed around the circle of their campfire.

  Sky made a motion as if striking an object with a hammer. I am a servant, a tool, that’s all.

  Durge glowered at him. “A servant? For whom? An enemy of ours, I suppose.”

  Sky shook his head fiercely. With a stick, he drew a pair of symbols in the dirt next to the fire.

  “Do you know what those mean?” Sareth said, glancing at Travis.

  Travis studied the two symbols, then pointed to the one on the left. “I know that one. I learned it from Rin and Jemis. It’s the rune for Olrig One-Eye. He was one of the Old Gods, the most loyal to the Worldsmith. But I’m not sure what the other symbol means. It—”

  Voices spoke in his mind. He knew the rune after all; he had only to listen.

  “It’s the rune for Sia.”

  Lirith gasped. “A rune for Sia? But that’s impossible.”

  However, Sky was nodding and smiling.

  “So you serve both of them?” Durge said with a skeptical look.

  Sky held a finger to his chest. I serve but one.

  They talked until a horned moon rose behind the tower, but all of Sky’s answers were similarly frustrating.

  “But how did you find us?” Travis said for what must have been the dozenth time. “And why?”

  However, Sky only yawned and laid his cheek against his hands. It is time to lie down.

  It was long before sleep came to Travis. He lay in the dark, tracing his fingers over the smooth white disk. With this, they had all the time in the world. So why did it feel like time was running out?

  The next morning, after they drank a cup of maddok, Sky led them to the topmost chamber of the tower. Sunlight fell through a small window just below the high, domed ceiling.

  “What is it, Sky?” Travis said. “Are we supposed to do something with the runestone?” It was the only thing they had ever found in that room.

  The young man shook his head. He pointed to the rune of time in Travis’s hands, pointed up, then made a breaking motion.

  “What’s he saying?” Sareth asked.

  Travis was completely bewildered. “I don’t know.”

  “I think I do,” Lirith said. She touched Sky’s shoulder. “You want us to go atop the tower, don’t you? That’s where Travis should break the rune.”

  “But there’s no way we can get up there, my lady,” Durge said, craning his neck. “It must be three fathoms to that opening. And there are no stairs.”

  A jolt passed through Travis
. It felt like...possibility. “Let me work on that.”

  He pressed a hand against the wall and closed his eyes. “Sar,” he whispered. The stones obeyed. There was a rumbling, followed by a grating noise. As the sound faded, Travis heard gasps. He opened his eyes.

  Blocks of stone jutted out from the walls of the tower, forming a rough staircase that spiraled up the walls, leading to the small window.

  Travis smiled at Durge and gestured to the stairs. “After you, my lord.”

  The knight’s brown eyes were startled. However, he took a deep breath and started up the stone steps. The others followed. The window was just large enough for them to pass through, and beyond was a narrow ledge that led to an even narrower staircase which clung precariously to the side of the tower; so they were not the first to come that way.

  They made their way to the top of the stairs and found themselves on the edge of a broad circle of stone. Ringing the circle were four tapered onyx pillars: the horns they had seen from below. A larger pillar, shaped like an obelisk, stood in the center of the circle. Above was only blue sky.

  They fanned out across the circle, exploring. The stone beneath their feet was carved with shapes and symbols. Large concentric rings spread out from the central pillar, and lines radiated toward the four outer pillars. Travis found it curious that the pillars were not spaced evenly around the perimeter of the circle. Two stood closer together on the east, while two stood to the west. He stopped by the central obelisk, arms crossed, thinking. Why did he have the feeling that the place was familiar?

  “It’s a clock!” Durge said excitedly.

  So that was why it had seemed familiar. It’s like Stonehenge, Travis, or other stone circles. Remember that show you and Max saw on the Wonder Channel? Didn’t shadows from some of the stones reach the center of the circle on certain days of the year?

  Yes, and as they examined the circle atop the tower more closely, that was certainly its purpose.

  “Durge,” Lirith said, touching the knight’s arm, “you have studied the motions of the heavens, haven’t you?”

  The knight nodded. “Certain alchemical procedures can only be performed when the alignments of the sun, moon, and stars are auspicious.” He paced around the circle. “If I have gotten my bearings correctly, at sunset on Midsummer’s Day, this stone will cast a shadow that touches the central obelisk.” He pointed to the northwestern pillar. “And this stone”—he pointed to the next closest pillar—“will cast its shadow toward the center at sunset on the Feast of Fallowing.”

  “I see now,” Sareth said. He stood between the two eastern pillars. “These stones will cast their shadows toward the center at dawn, one on Quickening, the other on Midwinter’s Day.”

  Fallowing, Quickening—those were the autumn and spring equinoxes, Travis knew. And Midsummer and Midwinter were the solstices. A thrill ran through him as he realized what this meant, but Lirith spoke the words first.

  “We can use this to count, can’t we?” She turned toward Travis. “We can count the passing years to make sure we return to our proper time.”

  Sky was nodding and smiling. Again he made the breaking motion with his hands.

  There was no point waiting. They gathered on the north edge of the circle, standing close together. From there, Travis could see all four pillars, as well as the central stone. He gripped the rune of time in sweating hands. It was 1883 in the reckoning of Earth. All he had to do was count up to the year it was when he last left home. But how to get to the right day?

  It was Durge, as usual, who had the solution. “It was late Revendath when we defeated the demon. Count to the next Fallowing, which would be a week later. That would prevent any chance of us...” The knight looked queasy.

  “Of us overlapping,” Lirith finished, and Durge nodded.

  Sareth grinned. “You do count better than you read, don’t you, Travis?”

  Travis swallowed hard. “Yes. And thank you for your utter lack of confidence.”

  Sky grinned and made a gesture. Good luck, Master Wilder. Then he started to move away.

  “Wait!” Travis said, his voice tight with panic. “Aren’t you coming with us, Sky?”

  The young man made another series of motions. I have many things to do in the meantime. Do not worry—I’ll be waiting for you when you return.

  Fear turned to wonder. Of course Sky couldn’t go with them. There was the time he would spend at the Gray Tower. And who knew what else he had to do? The young man waved, then disappeared down the staircase, leaving the four alone atop the tower. Travis drew in a breath, then held the stone disk out before him.

  Durge gave him a sharp look. “You do know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

  “Not really,” Travis said, and broke the rune.

  It was easy. Terribly easy. He didn’t even speak Reth, the rune of breaking, he simply thought it, and a crack shot through the stone disk in his hand, dividing it into two pieces with the sound of thunder. Light flickered around him like a strobe, alternating gold and black.

  Count, Travis! By Olrig’s Eye, you have to count!

  The sound of Jack’s voice snapped him out of his daze. Travis watched as the sun raced across the sky chased by the moon. Shadows reached out, fell back, then reached again. Stars spun in wild circles, faded to pale blue, then reappeared. The days flew by faster, and faster yet, one with every beating of his heart, until all he saw was the image of one day’s sunset superimposed by that of the next day’s. It was like a series of photographs, each taken a day apart just as the sun died in the west, and placed in order in a stack so that he could flip through them with a thumb.

  Long shadows moved across the circle from north to south. Then it happened, so swift he almost missed it. The shadow of the westernmost pillar brushed the central stone. Fallowing. Then the shadows moved on.

  Don’t watch the other pillars, Travis. Keep your eyes on the western one. Each time its shadow touches the center, add another year to the count.

  It was harder than he would have thought. The pace continued to increase. At first it seemed to take a minute for the shadow to swing into position again. Then half a minute. Then mere seconds.

  Sometimes things went gray; there must have been clouds obscuring the sun as it set some days. However, Travis became familiar with the pattern and cadence of the motion; he could still tell when the equinox had passed, for the shadow of the western pillar swung north and south like a dark pendulum.

  He was dimly aware of the others beside him. However, he couldn’t turn to look at them. Were they being rained and snowed on? If someone ventured to the top of the tower, would they see four people standing there like pillars of stone themselves? He wasn’t sure; somehow he didn’t think so.

  Travis kept counting. He was past ninety, and still the years came faster. One hundred. One hundred twenty. He kept his eyes wide; he didn’t dare blink.

  Now!

  The shadow touched the central stone. In his hands, Travis shoved the halves of the disk together. Only he fumbled, almost dropping one, then recovered. The shadow started to swing past the central stone...

  Be whole! Travis shouted in his mind.

  The two halves of the rune united with a blue flash. The whirling dance of shadows ceased. Travis staggered and would have fallen but for Durge’s strong grip on his shoulders.

  Sareth took a step forward, his peg leg beating a staccato rhythm against the stone. “Did it work?”

  It was nighttime. But what day? What year?

  Durge gazed up at the starry sky, studying them. “From the position of the constellations, I would guess it is at least a month past Fallowing.”

  Travis brushed the rune in his hand; it was whole again. “I had a little trouble stopping things.”

  “I hope not too much,” Sareth said. “What year do you suppose it is? Did we go far enough forward?”

  “Yes,” Lirith said, pointing. “Look.”

  They followed her gaze, then saw it. The star pu
lsed low to the southern horizon like a brilliant ruby.

  “It’s Tira’s star,” the witch said. “It appeared the summer before we left. So we must be in the right year.”

  Unless we went too far, Travis wanted to say, and we’re years beyond the time we left. However, before he could speak, a gasp escaped them all.

  The red star winked out of being.

  “What happened?” Sareth said, rubbing his eyes. “We weren’t just imagining it, were we? Maybe it was wishful thinking. After all, we wanted to see something that would let us know this was the right year.”

  Durge gave the Mournish man a sour look. “I do not engage in wishful thinking. It was there.”

  “He’s right,” Travis said. “We did see Tira’s star.”

  But only for a moment. Where had it gone? Before they could consider it further, they heard the sound of footsteps. They turned and saw a figure approaching across the circle.

  “Sky!” Travis said, filled with sudden relief.

  The young man pushed back the hood of his brown robe and grinned. Sky looked just as he had before Travis broke the rune of time. More than a hundred years earlier.

  Sky made a series of motions. I’ve been waiting.

  Travis gave a sheepish smile. “Sorry. It’s my fault we’re a little late.”

  Sky’s grin faded. He cast a worried glance over his shoulder, then looked back at Travis. Perhaps you should have been later yet. Danger draws near.

  There was so much Travis wanted to ask. What had Sky been doing for the past century? However, it seemed that would have to wait. “What kind of danger?”

  Sky made his hands into claws, a gesture that spoke more clearly than any words.

  “I see shadows approaching,” Durge said. The knight had moved to the edge of the circle and was peering into the darkness below. The others hurried beside him. “I cannot be sure in the gloom, but I think they are feydrim.”

  Travis’s eyes worked just fine in the dark. “You’re right. They are feydrim. There must be a hundred of them, and they’re coming fast. By why are they here?”