by F M Andrews
The twins began to feel drowsy, with Ela eventually giving into sleep, resting her head on Ema’s shoulder, and it wasn’t long before Ema also succumbed. Pritt watched them with envy, thinking of his brother. He had wasted the short time they had had together, treating him as more of a rival than a friend and he regretted it now. He had made bad choices most of his life, they had come back to haunt him and he hoped his choice to help Errin would be different.
By evening he was completely wiped out; flying with the shard once more in his possession was a joy although even it could not take away all the exertion needed. He was going to have to land for the night. Swooping low, he began to search for a suitable landing site.
“I don't think we can stop,” Ela said, staring at the compass. “Ema and I can fly through the night. We promise not to damage your pride and joy.” She chuckled after seeing the look of horror on his face. “We will only go slowly and we will be extra, super careful,” she pleaded. He gave in. There was no point arguing, and if he was honest with himself, he was really just too tired to bother. They dotted down for a moment to swap seats and to have a quick bite to eat. Pritt was nervous. He had seen the girls sail before and knew in his head that they were good sailors; however, his heart was finding it hard to let them take control of his prized possession. Anxiously, he sat on the edge of his seat, biting back instructions as they flawlessly levitated, turned into the wind, and accelerating to an exhilarating speed.
‘Only go slow, my arse!’ he thought, begrudgingly admitting that they were brilliant sailors. It was time to get some sleep and let them do their thing.
By morning they had made good progress and had covered a lot of ground. He estimated that they should arrive at the designated coordinates by that evening. Fully rested, Pritt took over again and the girls curled up to sleep under a blanket in the bottom of the boat.
Ema woke before her sister and came to sit close to Pritt, scanning the horizon.
“What is that?” she asked curiously, pointing. Pritt squinted, holding his hand out in front to block out the glare and what he saw made his whole body tense instantly. How could he have missed that? A dark storm cloud smudged a long line, low across the sky. Every clan member’s worst nightmare was to be caught out in the open in a storm. The big boats could weather all but the most severe storm but a small yacht would not stand a chance. They were ferocious and deadly, and every clan deployed long range scouts to ensure that any storm was spotted early enough for the fleet to either batten down or take evasive action. Fleets caught in the worst storms did not survive.
Their only hope of escape was to fly across the storm front and try and get to the edge before it arrived. It would be folly to try and run before it. Banking, Pritt set course, calling on every bit of skill and power he possessed. Ema had woken Ela and together they came to sit near him, a wash of unexpected energy flowing from them adding strength to his fight. He would never have dreamed that his little yacht could move so fast. They were almost going faster than the wind. How was that possible?
Nervously, all three watched the clouds billow and grow, piling up and tumbling over each other. By noon these had grown so high that they blocked out the sun and still it raced onwards, gobbling up the distance between them. Their craft was now a tiny dot, speeding across an angry, black background.
Ela blinked, scared that she was just deluding herself, yet finally she had to admit to herself, that they were getting closer to the edge of the storm. The clouds were changing from black to grey to white and she even caught a glimpse of a small pocket of blue sky peeping through every now and then. It was still going to be tight and all three found that they were holding their breath, knuckles white and eyes glued to their escape and salvation. Hardly daring to acknowledge it, in case it slipped away, Ela saw the edge of the storm draw closer and closer and a small kernel of optimism was born, but the storm had other ideas. It had not finished with them just yet.
A fierce forerunner of wind flicked them sideways, tipping them onto an impossible angle and sending them spinning into a downwards spiral. The revolving sky and ground made Ela ill as she clung on for dear life, trying to gain control, trying to stop their death plunge. Into the turmoil, she could sense Ema and, strangely, Pritt. Without even forming any sort of plan or intention, the three of them joined into one mind and acted as a single body. It was really a weird and crazy thing to happen but it was working. Together they slowly gained control. It was now a race between gravity and their strength of power.
Ela closed her eyes to shut out the vision of a hillside speeding towards them. Instead she concentrated on levitating with all her heart. A sinking feeling in her stomach told her that the yacht had finally responded and was now heading upwards again, but would it be in time? Her eyes shot open on their own volition just as the ground, a mere handbreadth beneath them, skimmed by at an impossible rate. She would not be surprised if their yacht had left a long furrow in the grassy hill top as they passed. Righted once more, they turned towards the beckoning blue sky and giving every last drop of effort, they sped towards it. Like a cork popping out of a bottle, their tiny vessel exploded out of the cloud and into the sunshine. They were shattered and the yacht was worse for wear, but they were alive.
There was no time for celebration. They had to get as far from the storm as possible. Holding the compass, Ela could see that with a slight course adjustment they could achieve this as well as being able to keep moving towards their destination. For once the gods had been kind.
After what felt like an entire circle they stopped for refreshments, to relieve themselves and to stretch tired muscles. Ema squinted at Errin’s parchment, noticing that they still had a day in hand, although they were starting to cut it fine now. Once more they dragged their tired bodies back on board, each of them running on their last reserves, doggedly going through the motions. In silence, they watched the sun creep towards the horizon, finally disappearing to leave behind a pale halo, which slowly morphed into indigo and then into darkness. Pale pinpricks of light appeared as if by magic, first one then another until the sky was alight with their glow.
Ema was nodding in her seat when Ela’s sharp elbow poked her in the ribs, waking her.
“I think we are nearly there,” Ela said, sounding surprised. Ema took the compass in disbelief and her heart skipped a beat. Unbelievably, it was true. Excitedly, the twins broke the news to Pritt, startling him from his concentration.
“I think we should approach with caution,” Ema suggested. She had a very bad feeling in her gut about the fact that Zail knew their destination, and she did not want to fall foul of any nasty surprise he may have left for them.
“We need to get a good look at exactly what is waiting for us,” Pritt agreed. “Maybe we should do a bit of reconnaissance before we come into land.” The girls could see the sense in that, and slowly they circumnavigated the innocent-looking hilltop where they had first arrived, a lifetime ago. The moonlight was enough to show that there was absolutely nothing about the hill that marked it out as different from millions of its compatriots, and they bravely decided to land in the valley beside it.
Ema used a glow lamp to check Errin’s parchment, noticing that they had only half a stroke left. She guessed that this would disappear completely sometime around sunrise. Slowly they crept up the hill, the wind at their backs, blowing their hair before them, all their senses on full alert, searching for anything that looked out of place or felt wrong, any sign of Zail. Ema was the first to reach the top and what she sensed before her, made her stop in her tracks. There was no doubt. He had been here, and he had left a trap. It wasn't even hidden or even that subtle.
It was obvious that he thought so little of their abilities that he had not thought that he needed to conceal his work. Ela joined her, and both the girls stood staring at the twisted monstrosity before them. It smelt of him and oozed darkness. Pritt was puffing by the time he caught up to the twins.
“What's that?” he asked in
disgust.
“You can see it?” Ela asked, surprised.
“Yes, it sort of floats in and out of focus but it smells real bad,” he said, wrinkling his nose in revulsion.
“What are we going to do about it?” Ema interrupted.
“I wonder what it is set to do?” Pritt mused, moving closer to the darkness.
“I am fairly sure it is designed to kill us!” Ema snorted. “What else!”
“Well, perhaps it is made to immobilize us until he arrives so that he can get the information he wants from our minds,” Pritt reasoned. Ela shuddered, knowing that this was most definitely a possibility.
“You know, I think he has underestimated us again,” Ela began. “Do you sense those threads leading away from the trap, down the hill?” Both Pritt and Ema nodded. “I think that those are trip lines. We are lucky that they are spaced so far apart that we didn’t stumble upon one earlier, but I think that we could use one of them to trigger the trap using a small amount of talent from the safety of the yacht. The question is, would that destroy the trap or would it just reset?” she pondered.
“Well, there is only one way to find out,” Pritt exclaimed, turning and retracing his steps down the hill back to the boat.
“I wonder how far away we need to be, to be safe when we trigger it?” Ema asked, as they sat hovering a hilltop away, glaring at the trap.
“It is a fine line between being near enough to trigger it, and far enough away not to be caught,” Pritt surmised. “I think we should go as far away as we can.”
Pritt edged the craft backwards until the girls’ touch on the lines grew too tenuous and then slowly moved forward once more until it became certain again. The twins hesitated, reluctant to pull the trigger.
“This is it, girls; time is running out and we have everything to gain and everything to lose,” Pritt said summarising their plight.
“Encouraging! Really encouraging!” Ema replied. “And don’t think that you can get away without helping,” she chided, reaching out her hand towards him. Joining forces, as one, the three focused on the target before them, sending a lance of power towards the closest trip line.
They were totally unprepared for the blast that followed, lighting up the sky. The accompanying shock wave of heat seared their exposed skin and the air vanished, making it impossible to fill their lungs. Gasping, they crumpled, falling into unconsciousness, blacking out completely.
Pritt was the first to recover and, sucking in lungful’s of air, he reached over to the girls and shook them awake. Together they sat gulping air and blinking. Pritt carefully peered over the side to find the world exactly as it had been when they first arrived. There was no destruction, no burnt grass, no sign of any cataclysmic explosion. The only difference was that there was also no sign of the evil, dark mass of the trap.
Pritt had never had a three-way hug before and he decided that he quite liked it, even if it did not last long. Landing in the valley, he vaulted over the side onto the grass. Suddenly a heart wrenching thought struck him: this might be the last time he would touch his pride and joy; indeed, it might even be the last time he sailed. Shaking this disturbing thought, physically from his mind, he gave his yacht one last, loving caress before racing to join the twins up the hill. These two had been forced to come to a new world and they had made the most of it. If two little girls could do it, so could he. He chuckled at his own sarcasm.
“Best to be ready to fight when we arrive,” Ela warned. “There is no knowing what will be waiting for us on the other side.”
“Great! Now you tell me,” he said, smiling at Ela as he absently grabbed his bow and placed a fist full of arrows in his belt. She smiled back at him for a moment before a thought obviously occurred to her.
“Oh, and by the way, limbo is …”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Errin yawned.
It had been a restless night; the spectre of the day to follow had her wound up so tightly that it had been impossible to relax. Every nerve ending, every thought process was tingling with apprehension. The night had seemed interminable. One part of her did not want it to end as she was afraid of what the day would bring, and yet another part just wanted to get it over and done with.
Eventually, the sun had peeked over the horizon, banishing the night, and morning had arrived. Errin stretched and silently welcomed the light, wondering, morbidly, if this would be the last dawn she would ever see. It was sobering to think that when the sun set again on this day, the universe’s fate would be forever changed. The question was, would it be for the better or the worse? Thousands of years of planning had come down to this single day.
Narrowing her eyes against the glare, she scanned the slowly waking camp, watching as routine morning chores were completed by people still shaking off the spell of sleep, listening to the clatter of pots and pans and the quiet murmur of conversation. The dawn chorus in the nearby forest was in full swing as spring had finally taken a toe hold on winter. Wild flowers and lush grass now replaced snow and mud, and the trees were covered in a light green fuzz of early leaf bud. Slowly, the days were warming up.
It seemed so wrong to be leaving all this beauty, to willingly go out to face death. It was going to take all her courage to leave this behind, and knowing that she had no choice at all did not make it any easier. Last night she had called a final council. Everyone knew their roles and responsibilities but she had felt it was important to go over them one last time. There were so many ifs and maybes, so many doubts and options, all of which needed to be understood and planned for. Today the time for planning was over, it was now time for action.
Today the seekers returned.
Errin’s internal clock was counting down to that pivotal moment and she had to ensure that she was there to greet them, to protect them. Taking a big lung full of fresh air, she tried to pull herself together. It would not do to appear uncertain or weak. Today she was leading her followers into battle, and she needed to be decisive and courageous, someone they could believe in and trust.
She shook herself, returning to the present, and immediately the smell of bacon made her mouth water and her stomach growl. Looking around for the source of the delicious aroma, she spotted Dissan beckoning her to join him.
“Nothing like a hearty breakfast before a hard day's ride,” he called as she made her way towards him.
“Mmmm, smells so good!” she replied, licking her lips. A plate of bacon, eggs and sausage was thrust in her direction and she took it gratefully. A makeshift table had been set up nearby, which was already occupied with people she loved. Hexrick was tucking into his breakfast as if it was going to escape if he gave it a chance; Fenrick sat beside him, tapping the table rhythmically and staring off into the distance with unfocused eyes; Surrin was sharing her breakfast with Riana who, although much bigger now, had still not managed to grow into her large paws; and Anssan hovered attentively over a pale but smiling Hezrill. They were all here, all willing to risk their lives for a greater cause, and Errin’s heart nearly broke from the overwhelming sadness of it all.
“Move over. Give the lady some room,” Dissan called jokingly as they headed to the table. A lot of good natured complaining followed as everyone scrunched up to make room for him and Errin.
“Good day for it,” Fenrick quipped with a grin, nodding a welcome to Errin. Eyes sparkled and smiles were shared. These were quality people and no more needed to be said about the mission. Instead, the conversation drifted towards the speculation on how much Hexrick could actually eat and expressing sympathy for his poor, suffering horse. Needless to say, Hexrick did not stop eating to defend himself. It was a wonderfully leisurely breakfast but even so, it still had to end eventually, and soon it was time to saddle up and say good bye.
Errin, Dissan and Hezrill, accompanied by a large troop of knights and a guardian, were to head out into the wilderness. Anssan, Surrin and a troop of knights were sent to protect the boundary and its guardians to the east, and Hexrick and
Fenrick, along with the rest of the knights, were sent to protect the west. The order was given, and everyone mounted. For a short distance, all three factions walked their horses towards the boundary together, Anssan and Hezrill riding side by side, hands touching. The abrupt end of the trees marked the spot where they had to go their separate ways and with loud calls of good luck and poignant farewells, the troops divided. Errin came to ride next to Hezrill, quietly giving her strength as she watched Anssan ride away. She hated having to separate them; however, she needed Hezrill’s talent today and Anssan’s strength and knowledge was needed elsewhere.
Errin was deep in thought, rerunning all her plans for the day in her head when she felt the most peculiar sensation. It felt as if one of her shards of power was suddenly close. There was a tugging and a sense of connectedness coming from the waste land, beyond the boundary. She sat up, thoroughly perplexed. It was still much too early for the recall.
“Nerves getting the better of you, eh!” she laughed at herself, yet still the feeling persisted. There was absolutely nothing she could do about it now, but the worry of it ate away at her. So many things could go wrong today and she had hoped that she had anticipated most of them, but this ‘call,’ this ‘pull’ was totally unexpected and therefore alarming. Had Zail found one of her shards? Was he lying in wait? She shook her head to get rid of that distressing idea. ‘You have a job to do. Focus,’ she berated herself before returning her concentration to the day at hand.
As always, leaving the safety of the boundary behind made everyone nervous; however, the sun shone down from a pale blue, cloudless sky and the lush grass their horses plodded through was full of wildflowers, a sure sign that there had not been a wild magic storm for a while, and a gentle breeze wafted their delicate scent to the riders. It was impossible to feel threatened in such surroundings and soon the group’s natural high spirits returned.