Child of Thunder (Renshai Trilogy)

by Mickey Zucker Reichert

  “She walked under that fallen branch I told you about and disappeared.”

  “Disappeared? Khitajrah?”

  Arduwyn nodded. Catching its master’s nervousness, the paint shuffled sideways, its neck in constant motion. Apparently mistaking Colbey’s concern over Khitajrah’s welfare for mistrust, he added, “I did everything but follow. The indentations on the leaves end right at the opening, and they don’t start again on the other side. She didn’t climb or run. I watched her. She just went in, like through a doorway, and never came out on the other side.”

  Doorway. Colbey’s mind went instantly to his voyage on Captain’s ship and the hazy ocean gate they had passed through to get to the Wizards’ Isle. He recalled the elf saying something about the need to pass through gates to go to other worlds. Another world! Abruptly, much became clear. No wonder the Wizards thought I’d never find the Renshai. “You didn’t follow her.”

  “No.” Arduwyn flushed. “I almost did, but it seemed foolish to repeat the same action in ignorance.” His expression told Colbey the hunter sought some support for a decision that might seem like cowardice and abandonment.

  “You did the right thing,” Colbey replied mechanically, knowing Arduwyn too well to condemn, his mind already leagues ahead. “She should be fine, although she may have to face our enemies first.” He did not explain further, keeping the details and their implications to himself. Likely, the Cardinal Wizards would not kill Khitajrah. However, if they recognized her as having significance to Colbey, they might hold her along with the Renshai, one more beloved life he might have to sacrifice for mankind to survive. Now he locked the thought away even from his own considerations. Until he spoke to the Wizards, he could not dismiss the possibility of compromise.

  Mar Lon and Sterrane joined the conversation, having heard most of it as they approached. The king spoke first. “Magic? Kayt gone? Maybe dead?”

  Sterrane’s ignorance of gates seemed strange to Colbey given that the Béarnide had spent the majority of his childhood life under Shadimar’s care. The oddity emphasized how Odin’s Laws had tightly curbed the Cardinal Wizards’ use of enchantments and how the drawing of chaos onto man’s world had sundered those restraints. Magic had gone from scarce to common almost overnight. “Moved to another place, I think.” Colbey stated his theory, though he had no way of knowing for certain whether Khitajrah had blundered into a gate or a trap. He glanced around the cottages. “Leave the horses here. I don’t know where this archway leads, if anywhere, but the terrain may not suit them.” He wondered if it might leave them in ocean, like the Meeting Isle gate. It seemed unlikely, but a possibility he could not wholly dismiss. “If it takes us to the Wizards, we’ll want to stay as quiet as we can.”

  Colbey’s mind embraced every theory, from the possibility that the gateway would lead to a random location to the instant death of anyone who entered it. His ignorance of magic frustrated him, forcing him to make decisions for others’ lives with far too little explanation. The staff’s claim that the Wizards would need to band together for slaying spells made the latter seem less likely. It would fit the spirit of the chaos-touched Shadimar, though, to leave such a trap. If I entered, carrying the staff, it would accomplish exactly what he wanted from the start. “Let’s go.”

  Arduwyn led the way, the others following in a somber quiet that made their every movement seem loud enough to echo. Colbey conversed with his staff as they went, mind occupied but senses attuned for unfamiliar noises. *What do you think?*

  *Finally, you ask.*

  Colbey ignored the sarcasm. *And do you answer?*

  The staff avoided the facetious question to make a point instead. *I believe that if the Wizards had intended for you to find this natural doorway, they would have made it more obvious. Had you not brought a woodsman, had he not wandered off to find his daughter, seeing every minute detail out of place, you would never have found the way.*

  Colbey considered. If the Cardinal Wizards had not intended for him to discover the archway, it seemed unlikely they had created it to kill. Pieces of the explanation still jarred, however, and he hoped the staff might shed some insight. *But if they didn’t want me to find it, why didn’t they hide it better? And why no guard?* He continued following Arduwyn through the foliage, winding between tree trunks.

  *We still don’t know for certain this archway comes of magic.*

  *Will you be able to tell when we come to it?*

  The staff trickled amusement into Colbey’s mind. *I’ll recognize the presence of chaos, yes. There’re traces all around here, but they ought to concentrate around something as powerful as a gate. I might even be able to differentiate between offensive magic and incidental.*

  *Incidental. What do you mean by that?*

  *Unintentional side effects. Magic is as unpredictable as its chaos.*

  You ought to know that. Colbey tried to hold the thought to himself, but some of the accompanying annoyance and bitterness must have crept through because the staff seemed amused.

  *Despite their knowledge and ability, the Wizards have little practical experience with magic, especially in large quantities. Most likely, they intended to leave no gate passable by anything short of magic. The quantity of chaos freed here had to cause some unexpected problems. As random as it seems, magic requires law to direct the chaos, and the unanticipated side effects of spells usually have a logic to them. Even as an unthinking part of a whole force, chaos despises being manipulated, so those side effects more frequently than not work against the caster in some fashion.*

  Colbey put the information together in a practical manner. *So this thing is most likely a gate. The Wizards probably don’t know of its existence. And it almost certainly leads to the world where they currently are.*

  *Yes, yes, and yes.*

  *Convenient.*

  *Not really. Given the ability of the Cardinal Wizards to form magical protections and fortresses, it’s always more dangerous to attack a Wizard on his “home ground” than to draw him, angered beyond thought and consequence, to you.*

  *There’s no choice in that matter. Khitajrah’s already gone.*

  *There’s always a choice.*

  *I won’t abandon a companion, especially a lover sanctioned by the goddess of lovers herself.*

  *Then you’ve made the choice already. Don’t mistake that for having no choice at all.*

  “Here it is.” With a broad gesture, Arduwyn interrupted Colbey’s nonverbal conversation.

  The landmark appeared precisely as he had described it, the trunks and fallen branch forming a perfect rectangle with the ground serving as one of the shorter sides. Colbey motioned to his companions to stay back while he examined the natural structure from every side, careful not to pass beneath the frame. He opened his mind to the staff’s assessment.

  *No mistaking it. It’s magic. May I show you?*

  *Please do.*

  An image took shape in Colbey’s mind, a sudden explosion of light and color that sent him instinctively into a defensive crouch. Strands twined around the trunks and branches like thready, multihued snakes. The colors shifted without pattern, glimmers sparking and boiling from various locations in a random fashion Colbey could not hope to follow. Awestruck by the beauty, he stared until his vision blurred the whole into a spinning wheel of pigment, each of a thousand colors strangely pure and primary despite their need for mixture. *Bind fully to me,* the staff whispered, its mind-voice sensual amid the whirling vortex of color that paraded through Colbey’s dry eyes. *Only I can give you the power to stand against Shadimar.*

  *No!* The need for freedom pulled Colbey fully from the enthralling beauty of chaos’ magic. *Whatever the other Cardinal Wizards believe, I won’t wage war using enemy tactics. Honor comes only of sticking to my own vows and dignity after lesser foemen have abandoned their own.*

  *I’m not asking you to abandon honor, only to embrace a larger one. You’re my champion, and I’m your destiny. Without me, you and every friend y
ou have in the world could not stand against Shadimar.*

  Colbey’s cheeks felt awash in flame, and the urge seized him to bash the staff repeatedly against the tree trunks until it broke. *I believe in who and what I am. No cause is worth abandoning my honor. You may stand beside me as a friend, but you can’t have me as your slave. Now it’s your turn to choose: obey the wishes of your champion or fight me now mind against mind.*

  The splashes of color faded back to the dull wood of the trunks, though the scene would never quite look the same to Colbey. *You know I can’t break a vow to my champion. I said I would not oppose you, and I won’t. But I will still let you know when I believe your reasoning has become clouded.*

  Colbey nodded grudgingly. The compromise fell in his favor. As little as he appreciated a subordinate questioning his actions, at least this one could not speak aloud. *And the magic?* Colbey tried to place the conversation back on track.

  *Standard. No malice I can detect. The almost total lack of structure, aside from the framework, makes it likely chaos rather than the Wizards built the thing. I don’t think it’s a trap, but it may not prove a regular gate either.*

  *What does that mean? Practically.*

  *The way to move from world to world is through gates. Most places, like the Meeting Isle, have permanent openings. That is, they can be entered and exited from the same place at any time. The gods’ world, Asgard, is like that. There’s a gate on the Bifrost Bridge that links it with man’s world. Other places, like Alfheim, where the elves live, don’t have permanent gates. To get there or to leave requires a spell to open and close a temporary portal. That’s why you almost never see elves here. From the amount of free chaos scattered about, I believe the Cardinal Wizards created a new world using ground from man’s world. They intended for it to require temporary gates, but this artifact formed as a result of the magic.*

  Colbey felt a twitching in his mind that he took to be a mental gesturing toward the “doorway.” *You mean “side effect,” don’t you?*

  *I’m not so certain anymore. I can sense some tampering by the Wizards, an attempt to bend the excess chaos. Probably, the creation of a new world naturally causes the simultaneous creation of a permanent gate to it. Apparently, the Wizards tried to shut down that gate, with only partial success. Their decision not to guard the opening suggests that they believe they disabled it completely.*

  Colbey did not like the sound of the staff’s explanation. *Partial success? You mean we might get halfway through the gate and end up stuck in some magical void? Or we might get sent to an unrelated world?*

  *All possibilities, plus more others than I can count. I can, at least, reassure you that the Wizards did not intend this to be a trap. I believe they intended it not to exist at all.*

  Colbey sucked air through his teeth, then released it in a long sigh. The staff had given him more information than its earlier protestations suggested it could, yet the knowledge raised as many questions as it answered. The intent of the Wizards mattered little if the end result was the same. *So it’s still possible that walking through that doorway will kill us all.*

  *Possible, but unlikely. If the Wizards blocked it, you should wind up where you started. If it sends you to another world, you should be able to just turn around and walk back through the other side of the gate.*

  Those odds sounded better to Colbey. *What do you suggest?*

  *I still suggest you make the Wizards come to you.*

  Colbey discarded the advice. He would not desert Khitajrah to an unknown fate. He glanced back at his companions, trusting his own instincts more than the knowledge of the staff. “I’m going through. If it’s as I believe, I should be able to come right back. If I don’t, anything might have happened. Sterrane, you and Mar Lon go home. We can’t risk you.” Colbey studied the Béarnides. Mar Lon nodded curtly, but Sterrane avoided his gaze. “Arduwyn . . .” Colbey paused, wanting to send the hunter home as well but knowing Arduwyn had as much at stake as himself. “. . . do as you want. You usually do anyway.”

  Without awaiting a reply, Colbey walked through the magical portal.

  CHAPTER 30

  The Green and the Pink

  Remembering his last transport between worlds, Colbey closed his eyes, preferring to face danger momentarily, rather than persistently, blinded. White light pulsed against his lids, brilliant enough to seep into his retinas even without sight. He opened his eyes, blinking away spidery afterimages, the subsequent darkness of his surroundings a pleasure. He stood in woodlands much like those he had left. If not for the missing companions and archway, and the jagged lines and blotches etched across his vision, he might have believed nothing had changed. The night insects kept up the same clicking, trilling chorus; and a throaty fox call rolled through the stillness. The clean aroma of damp spring greenery seemed unchanged. The wind carried a faint, intermittent odor of musk. The aristiri balanced on his shoulder, its feathers fluffed, apparently unaffected by the blinding lights and magic.

  Colbey did not move, concerned about losing the location of the gate. He twisted his neck, finding the area behind him as unrecognizably wooded as that in front. He saw no sign of the natural archway or the gate. He took a shuffling backward step. His boot heel kicked up a divot of mulched leaves. Otherwise, nothing happened. He shifted back again, this time certain he had cleared the gateway. Still he remained in unfamiliar forest, without sight or sound of his companions. Colbey strode forward, regaining the position he had found himself in on his arrival. He turned, taking a long stride through the remembered location of the gate.

  Colbey collided with Arduwyn, who had apparently followed him through the gate. The force jarred them both to the ground. The aristiri squawked, taking to the air with wild, awkward wing flaps. Colbey rolled to his feet, and Arduwyn rose a moment later.

  Colbey scowled, embarrassed by his clumsiness. “I see you considered your decision a long time.”

  Arduwyn shrugged. “There was nothing to consider. If Sylva’s here and well, I had to come. If she’s dead, then my fate didn’t matter.”

  “Sterrane and Mar Lon?”

  “I told them to stay.”

  “So did I. Do you think they’ll listen?”

  Arduwyn shrugged again. “Mar Lon will, I think. It mostly depends on how determined Sterrane is. And how fully he trusts your instincts. You chose going through as the best means to free Renshai. Sterrane may see that as reason enough to follow.”

  Colbey let the matter rest. Now that he knew the consequence of entering was not death, Sterrane’s decision lost some of its significance. Still, he would rather face Wizards without the king’s safety at stake.

  The aristiri perched in a tree overhead.

  *Ah.* The staff’s partial communication intrigued Colbey.

  *Ah?*

  *The Wizards did manage to erase the gate from this side, apparently thinking they got the whole thing.* It anticipated Colbey’s call for practical details. *We can travel from there to here but not back.*

  *So we’re stuck here?*

  *It would seem so.*

  *How do we get back?*

  *Magic. No other way.*

  *Can you work this magic?*

  *I’m the device. You’re the Western Wizard.*

  Colbey ended the communication. If returning home relied on his knowledge of sorcery, they would remain trapped on this Wizard-made world for eternity.

  Arduwyn studied the forest, gaze rolling from the ground to the uppermost branches. He wandered a few paces in each direction. “Amazing.” He looked directly at Colbey. “I know where we are.”

  It seemed unlikely. “Where?”

  “The woods outside the Fields of Wrath. This is the missing piece of forest.”

  The last remnants of the Wizards’ plan fell together for Colbey. One section of trees, deadfalls, and brush looked the same as any other to him. Colbey could no more doubt Arduwyn’s claim to identify a specific part of the forest then he could a man recognizing the
town that raised him. “Don’t ask me how, and I think the ‘why’ is obvious. Apparently, the Wizards moved the Fields of Wrath and the Renshai together, creating a whole new world in the process.”

  “Amazing,” Arduwyn repeated, not questioning Colbey’s knowledge either. He pointed to the ground, swinging his arm to indicate a direction Colbey could not hope to fathom without the sun’s position to guide him. “Someone went this way. The tracks begin right where you’re standing. Kayt probably.”

  Colbey moved up beside the hunter, but no farther. In the incomplete darkness, he could see few of the signs of passage Arduwyn indicated, and he did not want to make Arduwyn’s job more difficult. “Let’s go, then. You’ll have to lead.” He glanced backward as he spoke, hoping Sterrane and Mar Lon had returned to Béarn, yet skeptical. Sterrane had fussed too strongly about coming along to surrender this close to their goal. Still, it seemed pointless to wait long. Colbey would rather surprise the Wizards than give them more of an upper hand. Time would only obscure Khitajrah’s trail, and she might need their help.

  Arduwyn headed in the indicated direction. Colbey waved the aristiri to him. “Formynder.”

  The hawk arced down from the tree to land on the Renshai’s wrist, apparently understanding the gesture as easily as it had his intention to carry it when it had grown weary of travel.

  Colbey felt foolish talking to a bird, but he saw the need to try. He hoped the tales of the Western Wizards’ supposed natural rapport with feathered creatures would aid him now. “Watch for Sterrane. Help him find us if he follows.”

  Though the aristiri made no sound, it flew back to its perch on the tree, remaining there as Colbey trailed Arduwyn through the brush.

  The winding night air carried the intermingled odors of animals, sap, and pollen; and it washed away the humidity locked beneath the forest canopy. Sticky, yellow seed pods clung to Arduwyn’s jerkin and the thin fabric of Colbey’s shirt. The high-pitched cadence of insects seemed to rise and fall like tide, masking the minimal noises of Colbey’s and Arduwyn’s progress.