I couldn't abandon her, of course. I wrapped her in a blanket of soothing magic and put her in the cradle of my arm before I started after the gargoyle. Having been in the brain of the hawk had given me a plan finally. What I needed was prey for the gargoyle to chase back to The Edge. I created a herd of ten phantom deer, putting considerable reality into them. I almost went down to my knees, lightheaded and weak with the loss of power. They stood by the tree line, away from the trail.
The gargoyle quickly spotted the animals, which I had placed out of range of scent, I hoped, or else he would smell magic all over them. Or maybe not, since this area near The Edge held so much magic. He might not have been able to sense anything more.
I held the hawk in one arm and directed my simulations with the other. The gargoyle went after them, and I followed behind both hunter and prey as we moved closer to The Edge. The easiest answer would be to send the gargoyle back to the fae lands rather than kill it. I wouldn't have much chance going one-on-one with this thing.
Easiest being a relative term, of course.
The gargoyle danced along the debris at the bottom of Notchtop without any appreciable difficulty, and so did my simulations. I, on the other hand, had a lot of trouble holding onto the hawk and not falling. Normally I would use magic, but I had already pressed my limit with the creations. I needed to conserve what I had left.
I stayed within range of the gargoyle by pure tenacity, though by the end I had begun to pant and gasp, and my sight had flickers of odd lights and dark spots. I stopped when I could see the gargoyle charge the simulation standing close to this side of The Edge.
I dropped the hawk with an apology and sent a spear of magic into The Edge right where the gargoyle charged, his huge legs thumping against the ground. Trees shook and shale skidded down the mountainside nearby.
I forced a door open in The Edge and the pretend deer and real gargoyle charged right through.
"Yes!"
And he bounced right back out.
The elation of a moment before turned to anger and frustration -- and I went a little crazy.
No -- I went a lot crazy.
I darted closer to the gargoyle. This was the closest, in fact, I'd ever been to one. I could see the grey and black veins of his skin, creating the appearance of granite. The body looked as though a boulder had grown a head and sprouted stocky arms and legs. I could barely make out the wings where they folded back over the carapace. Beneath the shell would be softer skin -- at least softer in comparison. Most daggers would break rather than cut through it. Even a fae needed a lot of magic -- which I didn't have -- to kill one of these things.
He turned icy blue eyes my way, and the thin mouth beneath his nub of a nose drew back showing a row of dagger-like teeth in an obvious show of threat. I didn't really care. I grabbed him up in a web of magic before he could protest and threw him at the door -- and this time I kept shoving.
And something shoved back from the other side. Another fae? Something else? I didn't know. Something probably didn't want the gargoyle in his area, but I sure as hell wasn't leaving him on this side!
The gargoyle grew frantic as he found himself caught between two forces. He thrashed out at me as I shoved his head into The Edge. A stone-clad arm connected with my shoulder and I staggered back and went to my knees in pain. I barely held the gargoyle in place with my magic. I might not have much power, but I'm stubborn as hell. Aletta probably could have shoved the creature through and closed the door with a flick of her perfect little fingers.
The thought annoyed me more.
Annoyance is good sometimes. So is the fear for the safety of friends who might show up. I shoved as hard as I could.
The gargoyle stood on the other side. I could see movement there; something getting out of the way very fast. Good luck to them, I thought, and scrambled back to my feet. I rushed to The Edge and sealed the door closed -- easier than repairing a hole. I trembled with exertion. I needed to rest.
I paused with the door nearly sealed, and thought about going through and checking things on the fae side. Something, obviously, was not right. I could imagine all kinds of trouble beyond The Edge and leaking through to my side.
There had been wars in the distant past, often between one fae clan and another. Boredom had led to many of the old wars, or the taste for magic prizes which they could only take from other fae. Clans had disappeared in the smoke and blood of war, and not even the legends could bring them back.
Or the fae might face something worse on the other side.
The Nile Gods? The fae had dealt with them before and won. Demons might be making trouble, but why would they start a war here? We had nothing in common, and there are enough realities to go around. Infinite places, some close to this, some farther away and unlike the Earth I had come to know. We could spread out anywhere, but we generally kept close to this reality because we love this place so well. The humans here had been kind to us with legends and stories.
If there was trouble on the other side, wasn't my place there, fighting with my people over such a danger?
I stood there, trying to reason my way through a pounding headache, an arm that twitched with pain from the blow to the shoulder and my own tumbling rage and fear.
My place --
Was here. I am a border guard, and my job is to stand on this side of The Edge and keep things safe. I had just done so. I wouldn't walk away and ignore peripix and specters and leave this place unprotected from whatever else might still come through.
I carefully sealed The Edge closed. And then I sat down and cried. I wanted to go home. I had never been meant to hold a position where I had to work this hard.
The thought gave me a mental slap in the face. I wanted to go home because the work got too hard? I had managed the work, after all. When had I gotten this lazy?
I took a few breaths as the hawk walked over to me. She stared into my face and shook her head. She even spread her wings twice, as though to get the feel of them.
"I'm sorry," I told her softly. "I hope you'll be all right soon."
She gave a little nod of her head. With a little tendril of magic -- about all I could pull out of myself right now -- I located the rangers, who remained quite a ways out, but heading this way.
I desperately wanted to stretch out and sleep, right here in the cold wet morning. A mist lay over the lake beneath Topnotch, and I could see clouds hanging across the mountains, waiting to drop down on me. Rain would fall before too long.
But the lake, the mist, and clouds turned out to be breathtakingly beautiful, and I drank in the feel of such peace. Somewhere a chickadee called out a greeting, a soft whistle with little more than 'safe, safe, safe' in the sound. I smiled. I'd done a good job.
I had to think of a way to dissuade the rangers from their hunt. Even though I had dealt with the danger, I still didn't want them anywhere near The Edge. Even if the repel spells kept them away (if even those still worked at this point!), who knew what might come through next!
And that made me think that I should know -- and I found of a way to make certain I would. Not easy magic for me, but I ran a spell line all across The Edge and created the equivalent of a trip wire. If anything tore its way through I would hear little bells ringing in my head. I didn't want any more surprises, big or small.
The spell would also let me know if The Edge suddenly decided to make another great leaping move. It had already moved too close to civilization and might draw attention. I didn't know how to make The Edge go away, though, and trying to force movement back to the wilderness . . . well, even I wasn't that brave or stupid.
I glanced back at The Edge, nodding at the work I had done. The magic felt good, solid and calm despite my own state of mind. I took another deep breath and checked the area, pulling a little more physical cover over to hide the slight glow. I wondered if I could reach my father soon. I had to believe even if they fought a war on the other side they'd still be able to help me. We weren't helpless, as
I'd proven even to myself lately.
The rangers would soon find the trail of bones leading up the mountainside. I quickly did my best to erase the tracks the gargoyle had left in the soft soil heading after the pretend-deer. I had finally managed to control both my rage and the scared witless mode. Good.
And a ghost rider came through. The thing didn't make a hole in the wall of The Edge and didn't set off my trip wire. The horse galloped through riding straight for me.
The horse and rider seemed more ice rather than mist this time. I could see the chiseled shape of his face and a hint of darkness where the eyes would be. The horse slowed and pranced, head down, and for a moment I thought I could even hear the sound of leaves crunching beneath his feet. This thing was becoming more real.
I quickly backed up a step realizing this could not be a specter or ghost of any sort. Those creatures remained incorporeal and this thing had started to take on solid, substantial form. I could see details etched on the rider's helmet, and the slight upturn of his eyes seemed to hint at something Eastern.
I took another step back, though I didn't know where I was going to go.
He stared at me. His white lips curled back in a smile that did not show any friendliness. Across his saddle, he held a sword, glittering as though light lived inside it. When he lifted the weapon, I felt as though darkness itself had reached out.
Death sword. I'd never seen one, though they are part of fae legend and there was no mistaking the feel. They are swords with the magic to undue life, to kill with a single blow, even though they leave no visible wound. They take centuries to forge.
I tore my eyes away from the crystalline blade and backed up, afraid.
"What do you want?" I asked softly.
The man gave a kick, sending the horse galloping straight toward me. And I knew now what he wanted: He wanted me dead.
I stepped back -- and the hawk found her wings and leapt up into the air --
"Evil!" she cried. "Run Kat!"
And she dived back down at the man.
"No!"
The sword swept up and neatly ran her through, like water through air. No blood, no gore. But she flapped once and tumbled dead to the side of the horse.
Enraged beyond anything rational, I yelled and called magic to my hands, throwing a bolt straight at the rider as he brought the sword around. I startled the horse, and the blade missed me by bare inches --
And the storm hit. The massive magic I'd used, unchecked, and so close to The Edge, finally pushed the balance over. Wind tore through the trees and lightning rent the sky with a power brighter than the sun would have been. Thunder shook the world and rain came in a sudden torrent. If the man had truly been made of ice, he would have melted.
He didn't. The storm did take him by surprise, though, and he glanced up at the sky. I threw myself at his horse and used more magic to startle the beast backwards. Not a fae horse -- magic didn't startle them -- and I wondered what he and the rider were and how they passed back and forth between fae and here with an ease most of my family would have found amazing.
The rider got the horse in hand and turned his attention back toward me. The sword swept downwards, and I danced back out of the way, rain drenching my face and making it difficult to see. Or maybe that came from the tears. I dared not look at the fallen hawk who had shared her joy of flight with me.
Lightning started to flash across the sky -- powerful, natural magic. I grabbed the lighting and dragging the power down towards the rider. He saw and lifted his arm, the sword in hand.
The lightning found the sword, and drove down through the blade, illuminating the world with an unnatural green glow as it burned through the sword. I did not let it go, holding the lightning in place with more will-power than magical power. Fae children learn never to mix natural magic with created magic because they are incompatible in most cases. Dangerous.
I didn't let go.
The sword exploded, sending me tumbling as the power ripped branches from nearby trees. I could see pieces of the shattered sword flying in all directions, and far too many of them hitting The Edge in a spectacular array of fireworks. I thought I would die of it anyway -- but it appeared the pieces held no power to kill. They didn't even cut -- just hit and dropped, and disappeared.
But impacting The Edge only made the weather worse. The rain turned to snow in a heartbeat, but didn't fall with any less strength, laying white about us and stinging my face with cold.
The rider held his arm to his chest. Felt pain, did he? Good. Anything which can feel can be destroyed, and by the Gods, I intended to take this one down. No one should have brought such a deadly, magical sword to this side of The Edge where such a power would always attract the wrong people. If the weapon had fallen into human hands, civilization itself would have been in danger.
But not this time. I'd destroyed a death sword. I worried what problems even the shards might cause, but nothing remained except the final whisper of a display beside The Edge, where a last little piece melted away into the ground.
"Not here," I told the rider as I looked back at him. "You are not welcome here. I don't know what you are, and I don't know what you want -- other than me dead -- but you are not coming through my part of The Edge."
I wondered if he had come here because he knew I was weaker than the others, and this would be an easy way through. I hoped I had dissuaded him of the idea.
I stepped toward him. He held his ground and pulled another sword. For a moment my breath caught, but then I saw it was only made of the same substance as him. No special powers beyond whatever made him.
I looked up into his face. "Go ahead and try."
The horse took a dancing step away as I lifted my hand and the rider didn't fight the retreat. I could see more of his face -- Eastern beyond a doubt, and with the hint of a scraggly beard, I thought. But I didn't know the face. I could put no name to this man or myth.
I wanted him gone. I stepped closer. The sword swung in my direction, which I batted the weapon away with a little magic, even though I felt nearly depleted.
The wind blew with a rush of power that nearly put me down. Thunder shook the world and the snow fell even harder. Snow storms within thunderstorms can produce the heaviest snowfall of all, and this one proved the point. Within a few heartbeats, snow blanketed everything. The horse shook it from his mane, obviously not happy with the weather. He backed up.
We had reached The Edge once more. Rainbow light cast an odd glow through the icy bodies of the rider and the horse.
"Go back," I said to him. "Go back and don't come through again."
But he tried for me one more time. Out of desperation -- which I began to suspect fueled my strongest powers -- I pulled a broken branch to me and hit the horse firmly on the chest. The animal reared this time. I hated the hurt any creature, but I swung again.
The horse fought the rider's commands and I helped by throwing a circle of magical light into the horse's face, trying to keep the animal off balance.
I got careless though, and took a bad cut in the same shoulder where the gargoyle had hit me. I started to drop the branch as pain lanced through the arm, but I grabbed it in my left hand instead and swung around at the rider before he could do worse. I nearly unseated him, and the sword caught in the branch and broke.
He didn't fight when the horse tried to back away this time. I stood there, gasping but ready to go on with the battle. I started to pull another lightning strike down --
The rider turned and lunged back through The Edge -- once more without making a door, without tripping my own magic, and without more than a ripple in the surface.
But for a moment I saw through to where he had gone.
A shimmering city sat on the other side, filled with domes and the light of a desert sun; a large city filled with the feel of age, wealth, power.
And such a place should never have been this close to The Edge. Nothing solid should have been able to withstand the twists and turns which cam
e as The Edge moved from place to place. This had to be an illusion. I reached through with magic, even though the wind blew harder on this side. I tried to make the illusion go away.
Instead I found the solid brick, dirt paved streets and palms of a very real city. The place felt . . . as though the city waited to come through -- but that couldn't be possible! Nothing could --
I started to draw my hand back, preparing to turn and run, when something else caught my eye. There to the left of the city, in a plain of withered grass and golden sands I could see riders, all poised on their horses. Riders ready to come through.
Thousands of them.
Chapter Twelve
I stumbled back from The Edge, feeling sick with fear as the ripple slowly disappeared and I could no longer see through. I wanted to believe I had seen an illusion and nothing real.
I wanted help! And the best I was going to get would be Aletta. I would go to her and explain. Maybe she could reach home, when I couldn't. I didn't care -- I would swallow my pride and admit to any weakness, as long as I didn't stand alone against . . . this.
I went to my knees, shivering with far more than the cold of the storm. My blood ran warm down my arm, dripping into the snow as I stared. I couldn't think. I couldn't find any answers. The city, the riders -- none of them should have been there. The gargoyle, peripix, trolls -- they hadn't appeared on this side by chance. Something -- very many somethings -- wanted through, and I suspected the others came through as a test or to weaken me -- or for reasons I couldn't name, but not by chance.
I could sit here and wait and watch. And do what if they began to ride through? I needed help. I needed Aletta.
I tried to stand, cursing softly, and without any power to make the curse real. Pain lashed through my arm when I moved, and everything went dangerously dark for a moment. I stopped and took deep breaths. I would have to heal the arm before I went anywhere. I drew little tiny tendrils of magic from the air, but even so, the storm swirled with a new wind.
Kat Among The Pigeons Page 13