“I do. I’ve been thinking along those same lines. But, honestly, I’m afraid of Jerome. I wouldn’t dare face him alone.”
“You won’t be alone. I’ll be with you.” He was too confident, she thought, recalling the anger Jerome had fed into her. But she’d only been nine years old then. She was much stronger now.
So was Jerome.
“Look, I know it’s frightening, but with our combined power, we ought to be able to best him. You have so much talent, and I’ve got quite a bit. Together we should be a match for him. And if we find Ed and Marta, look at the power they have. I don’t know them well, but from what I’ve heard, Ed has amazing gifts. Even if he didn’t actually create that land.”
“He created part of it,” Veronica said. “He didn’t create the whole thing. Whatever it is, it’s on a different plane of existence, and Dire Lords had something to do with it.”
He stared at her. “You believe that?”
“I know that,” Veronica stated firmly. “Kyla and Marta knew a Dire Lord. That’s where Marta’s power came from, and maybe Kyla’s too. Some of it, anyway.”
“Oh, I’ve heard that story,” he said in a tone that to Veronica indicated disbelief. She found his skepticism annoying.
“Ed met a Dire Lord there,” she declared.
“And he helped Ed, right? So if he’s there and it’s his land, he’ll help us.”
Veronica shook her head. “I don’t think it works that way.”
He shrugged and rose to his feet. “I’m sorry. I guess I’ve wasted your time—and mine. I thought you’d help. I thought you felt the way I did, that we were losing time. But I guess I was wrong, and we’ve spent time talking and doing nothing, just like everybody else.”
Stung by those words, she jumped to her feet. “No, you’re right. I’ve wanted somebody to do something. And if no one else will, we should.”
Again that marvelous smile. “Then you’re ready to take action? You’ll work with me?”
She nodded, suddenly breathless.
“All right, then. Let’s get busy.”
“What do we do?”
“I’m going to concentrate on the place I went to with Ed, and you feed me all the power you can. Take my hands.” He walked to her, his hands outstretched. She extended her hands, he grasped them, and she felt a sudden warmth that was due to more than the power that flowed from his hands to hers.
She had to force herself to concentrate on sending power back to him. Something that normally came easily to her she now found difficult. Concentrate on Ed and Marta, not on Lore, she told herself. This is power work. It isn’t a boy-girl thing. He’s only interested in my gifts, not in me.
The stern lecture to herself helped. She focused her power and fed it to him. Something like electricity jolted through them both. And then they were no longer in the small bedroom but standing on burning sand being buffeted by a hot, sand-laden wind. Veronica freed her hands from Lore’s so she could shield her face. In seconds her body was coated with sand and her hair was full of it. It stung and itched and abraded her hands.
They could die in this sandstorm. Coming here was a mistake. She shouldn’t have let Lore persuade her. They should go back right away. She opened her mouth to yell above the screaming wind, but sand flew into her mouth, and she quickly closed it. Her eyes shut tightly against the sand. She tried to will herself back home, back in the bedroom from which they’d come. Nothing happened. The wind continued, unrelenting. The pummeling sand drove her to her knees. Shielding her face with one arm, with the other she reached around her to locate Lore. He should be within reach, but her groping hand encountered nothing but sand.
Blinded, unable to shout over the wind, afraid to get back to her feet, she crawled in what she hoped was a circle but still encountered nothing. Where was Lore?
He must have seen how hopeless the situation was and returned home without her. But if so, he must be trying to bring her back. Why was she still here?
She gave up her futile search and huddled in a miserable crouch, her back to the wind, trying to protect her head and face. The sand built up around her body. If rescue didn’t come soon, she’d die here, buried so no one would ever find her.
When Lore had come here before with Ed, it had been uncomfortably hot, with wind blowing some sand around, but nothing like this. He shut his eyes tightly against the onslaught. When he felt Veronica withdraw her hands from his, he slapped his freed hands over his face and hunched forward. They should return. They could do nothing in this sandstorm.
He hated to admit defeat. The thought of going back and confessing what a mistake his plan had been galled him. If he could just find some shelter from this storm, possibly he—they—could wait out the storm. He remembered he had a handkerchief in his pocket, fished around until he found it, and tied it over his nose and mouth. He turned to face the direction in which the wind was blowing so that his back was to the wind, and with his hands shading his eyes, risked opening them.
In the distance something glowed. A light? Out here? It seemed to be, but the blowing sand made it impossible to see clearly. He had to get closer. Without thinking, he stumbled through drifts of sand toward the glow. He couldn’t have gone more than a few paces when he remembered Veronica. Calling out to her was useless in the howling wind. He turned around and squinted, trying to spot her. Sand flew into his eyes. Again he turned his back to the wind. He blinked his watering eyes until he could see again.
He should go back and find Veronica, but that would mean struggling against the wind, and sight was impossible. He could only find her by blundering into her, and how likely was that?
She could die out here. So could he. They would if the sandstorm kept up for long. But she had power, more than he had, he believed. She’d find a way to save herself. He hoped she would. If she didn’t, he wasn’t likely to survive either. But if the glow he saw was a light, it meant someone was out there. Maybe even that there was a building up ahead. Hadn’t Ed spoken of a building here somewhere?
Why should both of them die, smothered in sand, their bodies buried, so no one would ever know what happened to them? It was difficult to walk with the wind, but walking against it was impossible. Why not head for the light and see what it was?
He slogged toward it, his feet sinking into drifts of sand that shifted beneath his feet. It was worse than wading through mud. He fell forward every few steps and had to pick himself up and move on. The glow still shone in the distance, brighter than before. It wasn’t at ground level, but neither was it high enough above it to be a moon or even the sun shining through the dark storm clouds. Unless the sun was rising or setting—he had no idea what direction he was looking toward, and anyway, in this weird place the sun might even rise or set in the north or south.
After what seemed like hours, the light appeared closer, and he could see that it shone through a window of a building. Ed had spoken of a ruined building, long abandoned. But a light inside meant this building was inhabited. Maybe it was ruined but Ed and Marta had reached it and built a fire inside. They wouldn’t need a fire for warmth, but for light. Kyla had told the group that both Marta and Ed had the gift of kindling a globe of cold fire that they could hold in their hands.
They had other powers as well. If he could reach them and explain what had happened, they could rescue Veronica. With renewed hope he plowed forward, and as he neared the building, the wind lessened. The sand ceased its pummeling. When he reached the building, the sand no longer flew and the wind calmed to a gentle breeze. The light flowed out from the window inviting him in.
The stone building’s façade was scarred, with stones missing here and there. He walked to the window and looked inside, saw only an empty room, its stone floor strewn with rubble. The light shone from a doorway in the wall opposite the window. “Ed?” he called. “Marta?”
He heard no answer. The window was not so high that he couldn’t climb through it, but the building must have a door. He walked around to the
side. A long wall held high windows from which no light spilled, and he saw no door. He retraced his steps to the front of the building. As he passed the window there, he again looked inside. Glancing up, he saw that the roof over that room had fallen in. Anyone seeking refuge would go farther inside, under a roof. Marta and Ed must have done that and were probably not near enough to hear his calls. He’d walk around to the other side and look for a door. If he didn’t find one, he’d come back and climb through the window.
He turned and walked toward the corner of the building. A voice behind him said, “You won’t find what you’re looking for inside this place.”
He whirled around. The man he faced was taller than he by an inch or two and quite thin but muscular and looked to be no more than five or six years older than he was. His friendly smile and open and direct gaze made Lore question whether this could possibly be the formidable Jerome that Kyla and Marta had spoken of.
“How do you know what I’m looking for?”
The man’s smile didn’t waver. “Did I guess wrong? I assumed you were looking for your friends.”
“I saw a light come from the building,” Lore said. “I thought after that wild sandstorm I should find shelter. That looked like a safer place.”
The man nodded. “It looks like that,” he said. “Looks can be deceiving.”
“Yes, they can.” Lore did not return his smile. “Who are you and how did you get here?”
“I could ask you the same questions,” the man replied.
“You could, but I asked first.”
The man laughed. “I like your spirit,” he said. “And I admire the way you battled your way through the sandstorm.”
“I didn’t have much choice about that,” Lore said. “You haven’t answered my questions. Now I have another. How could you have seen me battling through the sandstorm?”
He chuckled, a pleasant sound without any hint of derision. “I didn’t see you. But the sand on your clothes and in your hair tells the story.”
“Oh.” Lore looked down, away from the amused expression on the man’s face. “I guess it is obvious,” he muttered.
“No reason to be embarrassed,” the man said. “You’ve just gone through a really scary experience. And naturally the promise of shelter would attract you. But don’t be fooled by that light.” Lore looked up in time to see him gesture toward the window with its enticing glow.
“Why do you say I shouldn’t go in there? And why are you sure what I’m looking for isn’t inside? Someone must be in there, or where’s the light coming from?”
“Something is in there, and it’s nothing you’d want to meet. The light is a decoy. It’s a trap.”
“A trap?” Lore found himself wanting to believe this congenial fellow, but if this was Jerome, and all that Kyla and the others said about him was true …
“Come with me. It’s getting dark, and you don’t want to be out here at night. Besides, another sandstorm could come up at any time. I have a place here—nothing fancy, but it’s safe. You can get cleaned up. And I’ll bet you’re thirsty. Probably hungry, too.”
“That sounds good,” Lore said, trying not to reveal the eagerness he felt at the thought of water and food and a place to rid of the sand that was making his head and body itch. A place to rest. So inviting, but … “I’d like to accept, but I didn’t come here alone. I got separated from my companion, and now that the sandstorm is over I need to go hunt for her.”
“Her?”
The puzzlement and even shock that infused the question convinced Lore that his new friend had not known anyone else was here in this land. He nodded. “A young girl. I’m worried about her.”
“A young girl! No wonder you’re worried. Yet … when I came upon you, you were looking for a way into this building. You don’t think she might have gone in there, do you?” Alarm tinged his voice. Not feigned, Lore felt certain.
“No. Oh, no. I was looking for a place to shelter in. I planned to go back and find her and bring her here if the building proved safe.”
“As I’ve told you, it is far from safe. But who is this young girl, and where did you leave her?”
“Her name is Veronica.”
“Ah, the young Crowell girl. I remember her well.” A quick quirk of the mouth as though he was trying to suppress a grin accompanied the words.
“So you are Jerome?” Lore dared to ask.
“Jerome Esterville, at your service.” He gave a little bow. “I’m sure Veronica’s grown quite a bit since I saw her last. She was, let’s see, nine then, I think.”
“You haven’t seen her since?’ Lore asked, stepping back, away from Jerome.
“No, how could I? I’m stranded here in this barren and forbidding place. But I do know it well, and I can certainly help you find Veronica.”
“You—you stole that baby and nearly killed her. And you did kill the wet nurse. After you tortured her.”
A look of astonishment and horror appeared on Jerome’s face. “I? I did those things? No. No, indeed. How could I, when I have no way of leaving this world? It wasn’t I.”
“Who was it, then?” Lore demanded, making no attempt to conceal his skepticism.
“There is an evil Dire Lord who visits here and who delights in tormenting people. He’s tormented me often enough. It would be like him to do those terrible things and cast the blame on me. It would suit his perverted sense of humor.”
Could Jerome be telling the truth? Lore wanted to believe him. And Jerome’s voice sounded nothing like the voice they’d all heard thunder through Kyla’s home. Nor did his appearance match the appearance of the being Zauna had described seeing in her crystal ball.
“Is that what’s in the building? The thing you warned me against?”
Looking very solemn now, Jerome nodded. “That building is a nexus, a place where planes meet, giving a Dire Lord easy access to this world.”
“To this world? What about access to my world? Where the baby was taken from?
“A Dire Lord can manifest anywhere, but it can’t remain long in your world. I’m not sure why that is. It’s not restricted here, though.”
“So if it’s in that building, can it come out of it and come after us? Are we safe anywhere on this world?”
Again that slight quirk of the lips as Jerome spoke. “Not completely, but the danger is greater the nearer we are to the building so we really need to move away.”
“All right. Let’s search for Veronica.”
“I hope she’s nearby,” Jerome said. “It will soon be dark, and there’s no twilight here. Night falls quickly. But surely you wouldn’t have gone far from where you last saw her.”
“I don’t know. It was so hard, with the sand blowing all around. I could barely see. I may not have walked as far as it seemed.” Lore gazed around. After the darkness that prevailed during the sandstorm, the daylight had seemed so bright he had failed to notice the gradual dimming of the day. But, yes, the light was fading, and rather quickly.
“Were you walking against the wind or with it?” Jerome asked.
“With it. It was impossible to walk against it. And it seemed to be pushing me along, which makes me think I could have come a considerable distance.”
“I’m afraid we’d have no chance of finding her in the darkness.”
The thought crossed his mind that Jerome might have deliberately kept him talking until it became too late to go searching for Veronica. But he’d seemed so genuinely concerned on learning that she had come here that surely that could not be true.
“I’m sorry,” Jerome said. “I should have warned you sooner. I forgot that you wouldn’t be accustomed to having so little time between daylight and dark.”
“Couldn’t we search by moonlight?”
“There is no moon here.” He gave a little chuckle. “If this is Ed’s world, as he believes, he was quite neglectful in failing to supply it with a moon.” He grasped Lore’s arm. “But I’ve always thought poor Ed was quite deluded a
bout having ‘dreamed up’ this world, as I believe he once put it. Come on. Let me take you to my place.”
“But what about Veronica? We can’t just leave her.”
“But you did leave her, and now it’s too late to remedy that situation. Believe me, you would not find her in the dark, because when night falls here, it is very dark. Unless, you have the gift of summoning a light?”
“No, I don’t. But what about you?”
“I have little power of any sort.” Jerome’s tone was rueful. “So you see, there isn’t much we could do now. In fact, we’ll have to hurry to reach my humble home before darkness falls.”
He was right. The light was fading fast. Much as he regretted it, Lore could see that he had little choice but to accept Jerome’s offer of shelter for the night. Still, he hesitated. He was, after all, responsible for Veronica’s being here. He had persuaded her to come; he should not desert her.
“As I recall,” Jerome said, “even as a young child, Veronica had a great deal of power. I suspect she can take care of herself. She may even have transported herself back home by now.”
“She could have, I suppose,” Lore said. “She is very gifted.”
“There, you see! She’ll be fine. We’ll look for her as soon as it’s light, but I’ll wager we won’t find her because she’s found a way to get back home on her own, without waiting for you.”
Veronica might do that. She was unpredictable. She had a lot of power, just as Jerome said. She could protect herself better than he could.
Jerome had not released his grasp on Lore’s arm. He gave Lore a gentle tug, and Lore allowed himself to be drawn away through the growing darkness to whatever home Jerome had fashioned for himself. Any shelter, Lore told himself, would be welcome.
Has he revived? Have Ed and Marta come back?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
THREATS AND RESOLUTIONS
Kyla sighed with relief after finally getting Dreama to accept the bottle of goat’s milk. She leaned back in her chair for a moment, but sat up in alarm when Renni rushed into the kitchen.
A Mix of Magics (Arucadi: The Beginning Book 3) Page 9