“He’s different.” The boy shuddered and stopped skipping. “He can see more. Do more.”
Marcus remembered the Aerisians saying that Mr. Z was a creature of pure magic. What did that mean, exactly? “Is that why you didn’t show up when I was here before?”
The boy nodded. “Gunky.”
Marcus reached the painting of him and Kyja standing in front of Nizgar-Gharat, the land elementals. Even in the painting, the land elementals looked terrifyingly strong. He hadn’t given his plan much thought past this point. He knew what he needed to do, but not how to do it.
“You don’t want to go in there,” the little boy said, hopping from one foot to the other. “Let’s go somewhere fun.”
“I’d like to,” Marcus admitted with a mouth that suddenly felt far too dry. “But I don’t have any choice.” Clutching his staff, he gave the boy a final glance and went through the door.
Given his choice, he would not have entered his past self at the exact moment he did. He just had time to see Kyja pull her sword and watch himself raise his wand before the land elementals flung his previous self through the air, slamming him abruptly to the ground.
“Ouch,” the little boy said with a grin. “I told you not to come here.”
Marcus stepped out of his body as Kyja screamed his name.
“I thought you said you couldn’t feel pain in the Was,” Marcus said to the boy.
As soon as he stepped out of his body, the pain disappeared. But he’d definitely felt it when he’d been thrown.
“You can’t.” The boy laughed. “Unless you’re silly enough to choose to.”
Nizgar-Gharat had just asked Kyja if she wanted a taste of what they’d given Marcus, and she was charging them with her sword. Marcus had to move quickly.
He raced across the field, leaping over a log as the land elementals swung their scepter, trying to use magic on Kyja. He jumped into the air, reaching. But he was too short. His fingers swung a good foot below the scepter.
Kyja stabbed Nizgar-Gharat, and Marcus tried for the scepter again as the land elementals cast their magic on a tree. But he still couldn’t reach it.
Roots wrapped around Kyja, cutting into her skin.
“Leave her alone!” Marcus and his copy cried at the same time.
“Immune to magic. But not to pain,” the purple lizard head said. “You will pay for this.”
Marcus heard himself shout, “It’s midday! There’s no shadow.”
Kyja reached for her amulet as Nizgar-Gharat raised the scepter. Suddenly Marcus understood what he had to do. As the land elementals smashed the scepter toward Kyja’s face, she turned her head away. The Marcus on the ground closed his eyes.
Marcus raised his staff and swung it with all his might. He’d never held a baseball bat before—had never felt the power of putting your whole body into a swing and feeling the jolt of wood connecting with ball as you hit a home run. But when his staff caught the land elementals perfectly on the arm, knocking the scepter from their grip, he thought he knew what it must feel like.
At the same moment the scepter hit the ground, Kyja murmured something. An instant later, both she and Marcus disappeared.
As Marcus dove to the dirt and grabbed the scepter, the ground began to shake.
“That might not be the best idea,” the boy said.
“What do you mean?” Marcus asked, just before something grabbed him by the back of the shirt, jerking him into the air. He turned to find both of Nizgar-Gharat’s heads glaring at him.
“How did you do that?” one of the heads growled.
“Give us the scepter,” the other hissed.
Marcus turned to the little boy. “I thought they couldn’t see me,” he yelped as clawed fingers dug into the flesh of his arm.
The boy shrugged. “They can’t unless you’re touching them or something from the past.”
That would have been good to know. “Kyja!” he screamed as the shaking around him became worse. The land elementals reached for the scepter; Marcus yanked it away just in time. Claws slashed at his arm, drawing three angry red scratches down his wrist.
“Give it to us!” Nizgar-Gharat howled, shaking Marcus until his head rattled back and forth.
The land elementals reached for the scepter again. Marcus called up the strongest air magic he could think of. A blast of wind knocked the elementals backward at the same time he twisted in their scaly grip. The combined effect was enough to free him from their grasp, and he thumped to the ground, his head ringing.
“Drop the scepter!” the boy shouted. “Then they won’t be able to see you.”
But Marcus refused to.
“Kyja!” he screamed again. “Where are you?” He had the scepter in his hand; why wasn’t she pulling him into the Never Was? A terrible thought occurred to him. What if she wasn’t pulling him over because she couldn’t? What if she’d already been lured into the Void of Unbecoming?
The land elementals charged at him, howling. Their sharp teeth gnashed, and their eyes blazed with hatred. “Give it to us!”
A blast of rocks, dirt, and sticks slammed against him, tearing his arms and face. A tree root wrapped around his ankles. He stumbled backward, calling on every spell he could think of. His wand was jammed in his pants pocket, but hot magic flowed through him anyway. Fire burned the roots around his feet. Air blasted away rocks and dirt.
But it wasn’t enough. Nizgar-Gharat came at him with a fury of land magic he couldn’t hope to hold off. The ground buckled under his feet. Boulders ripped themselves from the dirt. Entire trees tore up their roots, lunging at him.
“Drop it!” the little boy screamed.
“No!” he screamed back.
A fist-sized rock hit him in the side of the head, and he collapsed to the ground. Nizgar-Gharat towered over him, tongues hissing, wings flapping. They reached for the scepter clutched against his chest.
“Kyja!” he cried, not sure if she was even still alive. “Help me!”
Chapter 40
A Cold Ride
The woman took Kyja’s hand, guiding her toward the spinning darkness. “Look into its depths. See it take away your pain, your fear. You need never be alone again.”
Kyja looked into the vortex and thought she saw stars in its depth. It was like staring up at the sky on a clear night. She could watch it forever, letting all her cares slip away in its whirling depths. “Yes, I . . .”
Something tugged at her arm, and she tried to shake it off. There was a sharp sting on the top of her head. Another on her arm. Something pecked at her toe. How was she supposed to stare into the pool with all of these annoyances?
She spun around to find Riph Raph yanking her hair, while flapping both wings. Mr. Z had his tiny arms wrapped around her legs.
“Would you two stop it?” she snarled. “I’m trying to . . .” But what was she trying to do? What was happening? How did she get here? She turned and realized she had somehow crossed the room. She was standing at the edge of the vortex.
“Kyja, get back!” Riph Raph screeched.
“Kyja, wake up!” Mr. Z shouted—and bit her toe.
The woman in black sat by the empty fireplace as though she’d never moved. But all around her, the room shook. Pieces of the black floor were shattered and tilted. A roaring filled the air.
Riph Raph and Mr. Z weren’t the only ones calling her name. As if from the other side of a chasm, she heard a voice scream, “Kyja, where are you?”
Marcus. Suddenly she realized what was happening. He had the scepter. The Abyss was falling apart while she’d been in some kind of trance. How long had she been out?
“Kyja!” Marcus screamed. “Help me!”
She reached out with her mind, found the golden rope, and pulled so hard she nearly fell backward into the vortex. If it hadn’t been for Riph Raph and Mr. Z, she would have.
Marcus slammed to the floor, his face a mess of cuts and bruises. One of his fingers was bent back so far it had to be broken.
“What happened?” Kyja cried, tears filling her eyes.
Marcus reached out to her with his bad hand, studying her face. “I was so afraid. I thought . . .”
“No time!” Mr. Z shouted. “We have to leave at once!”
In his good hand, Marcus grasped the scepter. “They didn’t want to let it go. But when you pulled me, they couldn’t hold on.”
With a shout of triumph, he raised the silver scepter and flung it into the swirling vortex. The ground shook harder than ever, knocking Kyja to her knees.
Mr. Z grabbed both of them with a strength Kyja had no idea the little man possessed, and dragged them across the room. Halfway to the door, she managed to get to her feet, and together, she and Mr. Z lifted Marcus and pulled him into the Abyss, where every waterfall was now cracked, with running water spilling from multiple spots.
The floor was tilted so far to one side that Kyja could barely stay on her feet. As they dragged Marcus toward the Is, a huge chunk of ice broke from the Was, sending deadly shards flying through the air.
“Get out!” Riph Raph screamed, flying straight for the mist of the Is.
Kyja stepped into the mist, and they were back in Water Keep. This time, it was the Water Keep she remembered. Blue-green light filled the air. Trees and fountains floated past in a profusion of color and sound.
“You did it!” Morning Dew shouted, throwing handfuls of golden balls into the air.
Kyja turned to Mr. Z, expecting him to be livid. But the little man was dancing a jig, black boots a blur as he spun around the room. “I’m alive!” he sang. “Alive, alive, alive.” He threw his hat up, caught it in his mouth, and, to Kyja’s amazement, bit a huge chunk out of the brim. “I thought we were goners for sure.” He laughed, ramming the hat back on his head, and twirled Morning Dew until her long hair whirled around her like an umbrella.
“That’s right!” Riph Raph whooped, looping crazily above their heads. “Take that, Nizgar-Stinkrat.”
Marcus was the only one who didn’t seem to be celebrating. “Cascade?” he croaked.
“He’s on his way to Land Keep,” Mist said, the silver clouds around her as sparkly as ever.
Kyja knelt by Marcus’s side. He looked terrible. She mopped some of the blood from his face with the hem of her robe. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” he said, his voice hoarse. “What about the golems?”
“There’s no time to lose,” Raindrop said. She scooped Marcus and Kyja up in her pudgy arms and raced for the nearest portal. Kyja just managed to grab the tip of Riph Raph’s wing as they hurried past, or they would have left him behind. The skyte gave an outraged yelp anyway.
Raindrop plunged through a colored blob that transported them outside the city walls, then ran to a waiting Zhethar.
“Didn’t think I’d see the three of you again,” the frost pinnois said as Raindrop tucked them into a thick stack of blankets.
“You’re still going to freeze your noses off. But at least these should help,” she said.
Zhethar flapped his large blue wings, icicle-feathers tinkling like glass, and Raindrop raised her arms. A blast of wind hit so hard, it nearly knocked them from the frost pinnois. Kyja pulled the blankets tighter around them, burrowing into Zhethar’s broad back.
“Stay on top of the clouuudddddssssss!” Raindrop called, her words snatched away by the storm.
Zhethar dove straight into the hurricane, forcing Kyja to duck beneath the blankets or risk being sucked away.
“Let’s see a dragon try that!” the frost pinnois shouted, and they were off.
Chapter 41
The Time for Truth
Marcus knew they were too late the moment they arrived at Terra ne Staric. The golem army was already there, smashing the city walls with powerful fists and hurling boulders over it. Tankum and his army fought to block the east gate while a group of human wizards and warriors protected the west. But even before they were close enough for the frost pinnois to land, it was clear the city wouldn’t be able to hold out for long.
“Where’s Cascade?” Kyja said, searching the battlefield.
“He’s not here.” Marcus shook his head. “Neither are the land elementals.”
A ball of fire was hurled from the top of the tower, engulfing four of the golems at the west gate, turning them into dust.
“Master Therapass!” Marcus shouted.
A cheer arose from the men and women fighting there. But even before the flames had died away, six more golems rose out of the ground where the four had been destroyed. It was hopeless. Even with the scepter gone, it was clear that the army Tide and Nizgar-Gharat had created was too powerful.
“Take us to the tower,” Marcus said.
Zhethar glided down to the balcony.
Master Therapass turned as Kyja slid off the frost pinnois’s back and helped Marcus down. “There you two are,” the wizard said. “I’ve been so worried.”
Marcus had never seen the old man look as exhausted as he did now. Deep lines cut into his face, and his eyes seemed to be staring up from the bottom of a pair of dark wells. “Is there any hope at all?” Marcus asked, leaning against the wall to rest his bad leg.
The wizard frowned. “As long as there are people willing to stand up against evil, there is always hope.” But just as he said that, a section of the south wall collapsed beneath an onslaught of golems. “To the south!” the wizard shouted. “Fill the gap!”
He raised his staff and cast a spell Marcus didn’t recognize. Whatever it was, it didn’t do much. A small pile of dirt filled the space where the wall had fallen, but it was barely enough to make the golems have to step over it. “Blasted land magic,” the wizard muttered.
If land magic still wasn’t working, that might mean Cascade hadn’t managed to free Land Keep after all.
The wizard swung his staff again, and a lightning bolt fried the golems trying to get through the opening.
Marcus waved his wand, and a blast of air knocked a golem off its feet.
“Where did you get that?” Master Therapass asked, studying the silver wand.
“Graehl gave it to me,” Marcus said. “It’s shadow wood.”
The wizard nodded. “Tell me where you’ve been and what’s happened.”
Fighting side by side with Master Therapass, Marcus recounted everything he and Kyja had done over the last few days.
Down below, the citizens of Terra ne Staric were putting up an incredible effort, but piece by piece, the walls gave way until, at last, a horn sounded.
“To the tower!” Master Therapass shouted. “Retreat to the tower!”
In the city, the cry was repeated as warriors and wizards gave up their positions and raced for the hill where the tower stood. Hundreds of golems followed like a brown sea.
Master Therapass collapsed against the wall. “I think you and Kyja should jump to Earth now. It’s only a matter of time before the tower falls as well.” As if to emphasize his point, a boulder slammed into the tower below them, ripping a hole in the stone wall. “Stay on Earth, for a few days, until the battle is over. Then return to whatever is left. Perhaps you can still find a way to free the Aerisians.”
Marcus nodded. It was just like he’d seen in the Will Be.
The Will Be. He’d forgotten all about that. “Kyja!” he called, turning around.
She was gone.
“She went below,” Zhethar said. “With the skyte.”
Of course she had. She wouldn’t stand around while a battle went on around her. She’d gone to fight. Marcus shoved his wand into his pocket and crawled to the stairs. What had he been thinking? If the city was being destroyed the same way he’d seen it would be in his vision, it meant that Kyja’s death was close. Maybe that’s how he killed her—he’d been focused on other things while she went to her death.
“Find Kyja and get her to Earth!” the wizard shouted, casting spells at the golems charging the base of the tower.
Marcus didn’t have e
nough breath to answer. His arms and legs screamed in pain, but he wouldn’t let himself think about that. Scooting on the seat of his pants, he slid down one step of the tower after another.
“Kyja!” he screamed “Riph Raph!”
Inside the tower, people ran into one another in a mass of confusion. Children cried while their mothers looked for places to hide them. Warriors with blood streaming from open wounds charged down the stairs and retreated up them in equal numbers. Explosions rocked the walls, and screams filled the air. Wafting through it all was the thick stink of mud.
How had he been so stupid? Why hadn’t he made Kyja stay with him? He knew she was a good fighter, but she had no chance against creatures as powerful as the golems.
Taking turns cursing himself and screaming Kyja’s name, Marcus hurried down the steps. But it wasn’t fast enough. He was less than a third of the way down the staircase when the air began filling with smoke. The golems had set fire to the base of the tower. There would be no way for anyone to escape.
Marcus realized what he had to do. At the next landing, he crawled from the stairs into the hallway, checking each door until he found an empty room. He had to go back into the Abyss of Time and enter the Will Be. He had to discover how Kyja would die and find a way to stop it from happening. If it was already too late—he could barely stand to think about the possibility—if she was already dead, he’d go into the Was and change the past.
The guide in the Will Be had told him that the future couldn’t be changed, but now that he could change the past, everything was different.
“Mr. Z!” he shouted. “Mr. Z!”
The little man didn’t come. What if he wouldn’t come? What if what happened with the scepter had been too much for him? Marcus tasted blood and realized he’d bit through his lip.
He screamed as loud as he could. “Mr. Z, come here now! I command you!”
“Command? ”
Marcus turned to find the little man standing behind him, his face a mask of anger. “You command me?” He ripped off his coat, tore it down the middle, and threw it to the floor. “Enough. More than enough. This is too much, I say. You. Do. Not. Command. Me.”
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