Back | Next
Contents

CHAPTER FOUR

The coming of night had done nothing to diminish the crowds. If anything, they were heavier, and a carnival mood dominated the plaza. Music came from multiple sources, the closest of which was a trio of long-faced llamas playing a haunting melody on panpipes. Vendors with trays slung around their necks hawked everything from programs for the upcoming dawn prayer service to sweets to more cheap souvenirs.

I wonder what they’ll do with those souvenirs after tomorrow? Teg thought. Especially if we’re successful, and the reincarnation doesn’t happen? It’ll be worse than the aftermath of a rock concert when the headline band cancels.

They left the plaza several blocks away from their ultimate destination and then approached the office building from the back. This had been the first part of Peg’s master plan.

“Since they haven’t made public where Brunni is being housed,” she explained, “they won’t have obvious guards. That would be the same as shouting ‘She’s here!’ What obvious guards they have will be at the main doors and probably the service entrances, to turn away people who think it’s business as usual despite the public holiday. But there should be other ways in, and we have a magic key.”

They hadn’t just trusted on finding an appropriate door. Vereez and Xerak had gone scouting earlier and had located a loading dock packed with garbage bins that conveniently hid the door from sight from the street. From the lack of activity, if Xerak’s divination hadn’t assured them otherwise, they would have thought the building was closed and empty.

In case the magic pass key didn’t do the job, Xerak prepared his unwarding spell. Then the inquisitors, Kaj, and the three humans made their way down the alley, through the maze of garbage bins, and to the closed door. Since Teg had already shown some affinity for magical items, she had been nominated to use the key, a decision that meant the therianthropes were able to wait with weapons ready to hand.

When the lock clicked over, Teg pulled down on the latch, bracing herself for alarms or flashes of colored light or some such, but all that happened was that the door swung open, and Grunwold and Kaj pushed past her, taking point as had been agreed upon earlier.

These kids can be scarily like their parents at times, Teg thought.

She went next, hand on her machete, followed by Xerak, Peg, Meg, and lastly, Vereez.

The young woman had asked to cover the rear because she said she was so strung out that she didn’t trust her judgement. Now, glancing back and seeing Vereez’s fox teeth bared in an expression one stage from a snarl, Teg hoped that being positioned at the rear would be enough to hold Vereez in check. As she closed and relocked the door, Teg gave Vereez what she hoped was a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and received a weak “ear melt” smile in return.

Xerak’s earlier scrying had not only confirmed that Brunni was in the building, but that she was on an upper floor. As they had hoped, there were both a freight elevator and stairs near the door they’d come in through. After all, who would want the garbage carried out through the public corridors? The door into the stairwell was open, and the stairwell itself dimly lit.

Kaj crouched and, without a word, Meg accepted a piggyback ride. Peg and Teg had sworn they could keep up the pace but, as she hurried up the stairs, Teg felt her archeologically abused knees complain. She wondered if she could get something magical done about the damage here, rather than waiting for knee replacement back home.

She knew such thoughts were her subconscious trying to distract her from a pattering of her heart that had nothing to do with climbing stairs at a fairly rapid pace. On some level, this breaking into a closed office building was more nerve-wracking than making their way through the monster-haunted forests surrounding the Library of the Sapphire Wind or even that time they’d broken into the warehouse and stolen Slicewind. Those events hadn’t seemed real. This seemed all too real, so much so that Teg kept glancing around, trying to spot hidden security cameras.

Xerak had said that the magical equivalent did exist, but that they were very expensive and required a great deal of maintenance, so he doubted there would be any here. Even so, Teg couldn’t keep herself from feeling certain that somewhere a security guard was watching them on a monitor, and calling for backup.

At each landing, Grunwold and Xerak would peep out, looking and listening for indications that the area was in use. Second floor, third floor, fourth floor: each time the young men withdrew and shook their heads. On the fifth floor they froze, then carefully pulled back, closing the door with infinite care.

“There are people here,” Grunwold said.

“It’s about the right altitude for where I scried Brunni,” Xerak added. “You folks wait here, catch your breath. Teg and I will go and check the next floor, just to be sure.”

Teg didn’t know whether to be flattered or dismayed that she wasn’t viewed as needing to catch her breath. She even wondered if Xerak planned to grab a quick drink and figured she was the least likely to turn him in, but he was in perfect control. She waited with the key in case it would be needed to open this door, but it swung open as the others had. Xerak listened, sniffed the air, then withdrew.

“Quiet. Stale. If I counted right, this is the top floor. The stair will continue to the roof. C’mon. Let’s be sure.”

They confirmed Xerak’s guess, locating a hatch to the roof, then picked their way down to rejoin the others. In their absence, Vereez had insisted on doing a little scouting, pointing out that she was smaller than either Kaj or Grunwold, and far better at moving quietly. In hushed tones, she reported what she had found, her voice level, her previous tension subsumed into purpose.

“The floor is mostly empty. There are people using a series of rooms toward the back. There’s a guard stationed where he can see the main elevator and the central staircase. He doesn’t look particularly tense, so I’m guessing he’s there more to relay messages than to keep anyone away.”

“Still,” Grunwold said. “We can’t have him giving the alert, but if we knock him out or take him captive, then we’ll have a problem if someone comes up.”

“I agree,” Vereez said. “I think the thing to do is distract him for long enough that we can get into those occupied rooms.”

“Perhaps a noise from the floor below?” Peg suggested. “He’s likely to go down the public stairs and check.”

“Unless he calls for help,” Kaj offered unhelpfully. “We didn’t see any roving patrols, but there might be some.”

“You’re acting as if anyone would expect someone to try to get in to Brunni,” Vereez snapped, quite literally, her fox jaws closing as if she were breaking a chicken’s neck.

“Easy,” Xerak said, slinging an arm around her shoulders and giving her a quick squeeze. “Kaj’s made a reasonable suggestion. Personally, I agree with you; it’s worth the risk of alerting a roving patrol. We can’t count on a diversion drawing the guard away, but it’s worth trying.”

Peg chuckled softly. “When his father and I were getting a divorce, my son, Diego, went through what we called his poltergeist phase. He loved designing booby-traps—anything from the classic bucket of water over the door to more elaborate gimmicks. Can we rig something that will make a noise down below, something we can trigger from a distance—maybe by pulling a cord? It would be best if it looks like something that might have fallen on its own, of course, but we can’t have everything.”

No one loved the idea but, after Xerak explained that he preferred not to use magic, in case there were wards in place that would be alert to active magic (as opposed to the passive magic in the key or flashlights), the last objection was met. Peg—who had learned a great deal about setting up such things when dealing with Diego—went with Vereez and Grunwold, leaving the others to stand an uneasy vigil in the barely lit stairwell.

When the trio returned, Peg was trailing a length of pale yellow yarn, unrolling it from the ball to keep it from drawing tight.

“There’s a slipknot at the end,” she explained. “We gathered a collection of janitorial supplies—buckets, mops, and such—and heaped them up. One tug and . . .”

“Are you sure the tug will be enough?” Teg asked anxiously.

“It’s a miracle the crap hasn’t fallen already,” Grunwold retorted. “If we’re going to try this, let’s do it. Vereez . . .”

But the young woman had already moved to the front, easing open the door, sniffing, and then trotting silently ahead. Xerak padded behind her, motioning for Teg to join him. Kaj followed, Meg and Peg came next, leaving Grunwold to pull the yellow yarn.

Teg wondered if the sound of a few buckets falling would be enough to draw the guard, but when the crash came, even expecting it, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“What the broken-toothed monstrosity . . .” came an unfamiliar voice, followed immediately by the sound of booted feet going down stone stairs.

Grunwold came loping up behind, motioning for everyone to hurry. Vereez rounded the corner first, hands on the hilts of her swords, clearly prepared to attack anyone and anything who might remain. Teg, the crystal-encrusted key firmly clenched in her right hand, ran after, panting slightly, although whether from excitement or lack of breath she couldn’t be sure.

Definitely need to cut down on the cigs, she thought.

Voices trailed up the stairwell. Clearly “their” guard hadn’t been the only one to hear the crash. As Teg knelt to touch the key to the lock, she caught fragments.

“. . . fucking buckets.”

“. . . guess janitors got hurried out of here before they stowed their junk properly. Here . . .”

The lock clicked. Vereez shoved the door open, then half dove over Teg to get inside. Teg moved in and to one side, hoping she wouldn’t be trampled as Xerak and Kaj raced to provide Vereez with backup. Next came Meg, Peg, and lastly Grunwold. He shut the door behind him, remembering not to let it slam, then Teg put the key in place to relock it. When the door had been secured, she turned to inspect their surroundings.

They were in a large rectangular room. The door through which they had entered was in the middle of a long wall. One door opened off the left wall. The middle of the wall on the right had a door in the middle and one near the extreme end. A neat ideogram proclaimed the middle door as a restroom.

Most of the nearer long wall and the two side walls were lined with chairs. At the far end, dominating the other long wall, were three bulky desks. One desk was stacked with paperwork and detritus probably cleared from the other two. The emptied desktops had been adapted to serve as a sort of buffet on which a variety of food and drink had been spread. The offerings looked picked over, as if whoever had been using the buffet had been sampling over many hours.

A waiting room, Teg thought, converted into a dining area. I bet the secretaries are going to be pissed when they see what’s been done to their stuff.

The room had been empty but, as Teg turned, the door on the left opened and a child and an adult emerged. The child was instantly recognizable from the numerous representations they’d seen that day as Brunni. The other was a woman with a seal’s head. She had her hands on the child’s shoulders as if she’d been steering her along.

To the bathroom, maybe?

The pair stopped in midstep when they realized that the room they’d clearly expected to be empty held seven strangers. Then Vereez started.

“Aunt Ranpeti! I was told you were dead!”

“Vereez? What are you doing here?”

Vereez was too shocked to manage anything other than the truth. “I’ve been looking for Brunni. I . . .”

Brunni blinked sleepily. She was a chubby little girl, as adorable as a polar bear cub in one of those Coke advertisements, and nearly as improbable. She stared around the room, absorbed the presence of the assembled adults, and as quickly dismissed them.

Poor kid has probably had so many people staring at her these last couple of weeks that a few more doesn’t even register.

“Mama,” she said, looking up at the woman Vereez had addressed as “Aunt Ranpeti.” “I still hafta go potty.”

“Excuse us,” Ranpeti said. “Please, will you wait?”

“Try and get us to go,” Vereez said. “‘Mama.’”

Ranpeti stiffened, then patted Brunni. “Come along. We’ll get you to the potty.”

The pair returned just as Teg was beginning to wonder if the bathroom had more than one exit. Grunwold caught the closing door and ducked inside, saying “My turn!” Teg didn’t doubt that he was checking to see if there was some way Ranpeti might have called for help, as much as because he needed to pee.

Brunni was more awake now, interested in the new arrivals, especially the humans with their elaborate masks. When Ranpeti tried to get her to go back to bed, she protested.

“I wanna drink. And a snack. There are still proggies. Purple ones.” She turned a winning smile on all of them. “My favorites.”

Ranpeti surrendered. “Very well,” she said, staring at Vereez, hardly seeming to notice the rest of them.

Vereez reached for a bunch of proggies, breaking off some that were an impossibly brilliant violet. She handed them to Brunni.

“These were my favorites when I was your age,” she said. “Do you like taga juice?”

Brunni shook her head. “Too sour. I like pa-pa with lots of honey.”

“Not so close to bed time,” Ranpeti said automatically. “You can have zinz tea.”

From how Brunni reacted, this was clearly a frequent compromise, and she accepted the drink with fairly good grace. Ranpeti sank into the nearest chair, then pulled Brunni and her snacks into her lap.

“Vereez,” she said, speaking the younger woman’s name as if she’d never meant to say it again. “You. Here. Now. Especially now. What does it mean?”

Xerak shook his head. “No time for that. We were lucky to get in here. What we need to know is . . .”

Ranpeti frowned at him. “Are you Senehem? And is that Gruny”—indicating Grunwold, just emerging from the bathroom—“grown and with antlers?”

“Xerafu Akeru is what I’m called now,” Xerak said, leaning on his spear staff, “or Xerak, but, yes, I’m me and Grunwold’s him. And I think we both remember you, Ranpeti-toh. Glad you’re alive when we’d mourned you. What we need to know is . . .”

Vereez cut him off. “Aunt Ranpeti, is Brunni a volunteer for this upcoming reincarnation? Or do you want to get her out of it?”

Ranpeti gripped the child more tightly. “We were given little choice. Brunni doesn’t understand . . .”

“Yes, I do.” Brunni, the fur around her mouth now slightly purple, looked up at her “mother.” “There will be a big party. But it will be for the Sleeping One. Not for me. I don’t like the Sleeping One. He thinks I’m a new dress.”

Ranpeti began to weep. “I hoped. I hoped if I stayed near, maybe I could keep Brunni awake a little even . . . after. She can be very strong willed.”

Vereez’s ears pinned back. “As she should be. How could you let this happen?”

“Don’t you yell at my mommy!” Brunni shouted. She didn’t look at all cute now, but as if she’d grown into her grandfather’s sinuous carnivore heritage. “Don’t!”

Vereez jerked back. “I’m sorry, Brunni. Your mommy is my favorite aunt. I’m just . . .” Xerak patted her arm, and Vereez refocused. “Aunt Ranpeti, we can get you out of here. Both of you. But you need to understand, before this is over, we’re going to have a lot of talking to do.”

“We can’t leave the building, not even this floor,” Ranpeti protested. “The guard at the stairwell will let Brunni and me walk around the top floor, but that’s it. When all is said and done, we’re captives, no matter how they pretty it up.”

Xerak showed his teeth in a fierce grin, an expression that worked all too perfectly on his leonine features.

“We can leave without using the door. Do you have any belongings you need? Brunni’s favorite blanket or something? Get them now. Once we trigger the transport magic, I don’t think we’re going to go unnoticed for long.”

Xerak commandeered Vereez and Teg to assist him as he set the crystal polyhedrons at the various points that would define the transportation circle back to the Library. Kaj and Grunwold kept guard at the door. Ranpeti, good manners surfacing despite her obvious confusion, turned to Meg and Peg.

“Please. Feel free to take off your masks. Even the best made masks can be stifling.”

Meg laughed. “They can be, but if you have questions now, you’ll have even more then. You’ll learn why we are wearing these in good time.”

Ranpeti did not press. Indeed, she seemed too stunned to do more than watch as those whom she must still think of as children showed how much growing up can happen in four years. She shook herself into alertness.

“Excuse me, then. I will get our belongings.”

Gathering up Brunni, she headed toward the room from which they had emerged. From the doorway, it appeared to be someone’s office, hastily converted into a bedroom.

“Let me help you pack,” Peg said, and bustled after them.

Meg moved to where she could keep watch out a window without being seen.

Almost immediately, apparently bored with packing, Brunni bounded from the bedroom and made a beeline for the glowing polyhedrons.

“I wanna play with the blocks, too!” she announced. “I wan the purple one.”

Xerak snarled at her. “Back, brat. You’re going to blow the spell.”

Brunni, startled as only a much-loved child can be startled when reprimanded by a stranger, balled her fists, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth, obviously about to let loose. Vereez froze, hands on the brilliant orange four-sided polygon she was setting, obviously torn between duty to the spell and a desire to comfort her newly found daughter. Only Xerak’s rumbling growl kept her in place.

Grunwold glanced at Kaj. “Call me if you hear anyone coming.” Then he loped over and scooped up Brunni. “I’ll make you a deal, roly-poly. If you promise not to make a sound louder than a giggle, I’ll toss you in the air. I bet you’d like that more than those dumb blocks, wouldn’t you?”

Brunni eyed him thoughtfully, then looked sidelong at Xerak, who had returned to his incantations. “Uh-um, yes? Can you trow me? Mama say I’m too chubby to trow.”

Grunwold hefted her. “I’m much stronger than Ranpeti-toh. Ready? Remember, nothing louder than a giggle or the deal’s off.”

He’ll be a wonderful father someday, Teg thought, one of those only children who cherishes a big family even more because he feels he missed out on something.

Ranpeti and Peg emerged, burdened with luggage, as the last of what Teg now couldn’t help but think of as “the blocks” was set in place.

Grunwold handed a still giggling Brunni to Ranpeti, and accepted some of her luggage in exchange.

Xerak straightened, rubbing the damp fur on his forehead with the back of one hand. “We’re going to need to get through fast, before anyone senses the portal has been activated. Vereez and I are going to need to stay to maintain the spell. Grunwold, you go first, with Brunni and Ranpeti. Then you three.” He indicated the humans. “Last Kaj, Vereez, and me.”

Despite damp sweat spots on her own fur and undoubted emotional upheaval, Vereez was managing to appear coolly efficient. “Line up.”

Brunni had started to fuss when Grunwold handed her to Ranpeti. Now he looked at her, and spoke seriously. “Listen, Brunni? We’re going to play follow the leader. You’re on my team, so don’t mess it up, hear? We’ll lose if you don’t follow the rules.”

Brunni nodded, alive with instant hero worship of the sort only children that age can experience. “Rules,” she repeated, then grabbed Ranpeti’s hand and held it tight. “Rules, Mama!”

Ranpeti nodded, and held the little girl more tightly. “Ready, Grunwold?”

Sword in one hand, duffle over his shoulder, Grunwold reached for Ranpeti’s hand and led her into the circle. “Ready.”

Xerak gripped the multicolored egg, frowned, then said, “Grunwold, as soon as you see the Library, get out of the spell field to clear the way for the next group.”

“Got it,” Grunwold said, leaning slightly, as if ready to begin a footrace.

Xerak started muttering the untranslatable words. Despite Teg’s fears that something would go wrong, that they’d end up trapped, the transport spell activated as before. However, as the colored lights swirled into white, the varied colors appeared to have acquired an additional flat silver sheen.

I wonder if that’s because there’s some sort of barrier here, Teg thought, but she didn’t have time to ask. Meg and Peg, carrying the rest of Ranpeti and Brunni’s luggage between them, were hustling forward, Heru perched on Peg’s shoulder. In a moment it would be her turn. Already, Xerak was moving to where he could put the blocks back into their container in the second before Kaj, Vereez, and finally himself would make their own transit.

Meg went through, then Peg. As Teg was about to step into the “gazebo” there was banging at the door of the office suite accompanied by muffled shouting. She paused, but Xerak waved her on.

“Go!”

Teg did, feeling again the increasingly familiar sense of passing through a disorienting space that was both within and outside of the normal passage of time. When she saw the white light shading into color, she braced herself, knowing she’d need to move quickly so that there would be room for the last three to follow.

As she jumped clear of the transport circle, the veil of color vanished, revealing that instead of the increasingly familiar rubble-strewn reception hall of the Library of the Sapphire Wind, she had arrived in a large, high-ceilinged space lined with wooden crates and barrels. The narrow windows where the wall met the ceiling showed nothing but darkness, offering no hint of where this room might be located.

In front of Teg, a few steps away from the still-glowing colors of the transport field, were Meg and Peg. A few paces from them stood Grunwold and Ranpeti, who still held Brunni in her arms. As Teg’s feet touched down, she acquired two new pieces of information. First, their group hadn’t actually been transported into the warehouse, but were instead standing on a springy surface that possessed the shimmer of oil on a wet road. Second, the warehouse held at least six people, most keeping back in the shadows.

The two people poised at the front of the group within the warehouse were Vereez’s parents: Inehem and Zarrq.

Teg absorbed all of this in the brief moment that it took for her short sideways jump to bring her feet to rest on the oddly springy surface of the shimmering path. As she landed, time resumed its normal speed.

“Give me the child,” Inehem was saying, her voice silky.

In these words, Teg’s back brain heard an echo of the line from the movie Labyrinth. Her own lips shaped one of the appropriate responses.

“Wait!”

Ranpeti had been moving forward in automatic response to the authority in Inehem’s voice, but now she halted, her feet still on the oil slick surface, inches from the stone-flagged warehouse floor.

We’re somewhere between places, Teg thought. Inehem hijacked the transport portal somehow but, if we haven’t reached the Library, where we meant to go, we’re also not where Inehem intended to bring us. For some reason Inehem doesn’t want to come to us—I’m sure of that or she’d have sent one of those people lurking in the shadows to grab Brunni.

Taking a step back, Ranpeti turned to look at Teg. “Wait?”

“Don’t you want to know why Inehem wants Brunni?” Teg asked. “I mean, after all this time, it’s a little surprising that she and Zarrq would go all grandparenty.”

As she was speaking, Teg felt a flicker of motion in the air and suspected Kaj had arrived, but it was Vereez’s voice, sharp and clear, that spoke.

“Mother? Father? What are you doing here? How are you here . . . wherever here is?”

“We came for Brunni,” Inehem replied easily. “Do you think we would be unaware of what was about to happen to her?”

Vereez pushed to the front. Teg saw a host of emotions in the cant of her slightly drooping fox ears: confusion, hope, relief. Then the group in the shadows moved forward, and Vereez noticed that not only her father was present, but also the butler, Leyenui, and three armed guards, one of whom held two spike-collared dobergoats on leashes. Suspicion pinned those drooping ears back with a snap.

Grunwold, not ungently, shoved Ranpeti and Brunni behind him, so that now he and Vereez stood between Inehem and her quarry. Grunwold drew his sword with a practiced motion, but Vereez, gaze still fixed on the group in the warehouse, held off reaching for her own swords. Breathing hard, Kaj arrived, then Xerak came through, glancing around him with a mixture of calculation and surprise.

At a head jerk from Xerak, Kaj moved to join the front line.

Staying back, Xerak said almost too casually, “Are you the one who diverted the transport spell, Inehem-toh? Let me guess. You had an anchor on Brunni. If something happened to move her from Sky Descry, you would know.”

“Such a clever Xerafu Akeru,” Inehem said. “Or not so. The only other person I might have put the anchor on was Ranpeti, and why would I care where she went as long as she went alone? Brunni, however, is a different matter. Of course, her grandparents would want to keep an eye on her, especially now that their sole child is proving so troublesome.”

As soon as Xerak arrived, Teg noticed that their surroundings were subtly altering. The surface underfoot felt the same, but it shone more brilliantly, less a shimmer than a blaze of weird colors that reminded her of the aurora borealis.

I think I get it. Now that Xerak has closed off the connection to the building on Sky Decry, the transport device is trying to finish its job, to take us back to the Library. But whatever Inehem is doing is pulling us toward her.

Meg had also noticed the change. She paused, almost as if listening, then grabbed the luggage from Peg, and began to drop back. Teg glanced to see where Meg was going and saw that, more outline than reality, the reception hall of the Library of the Sapphire Wind was taking shape behind them.

Tug of war, with us standing on the rope, Teg thought. Is Inehem strong enough to force us out of this between space to where she is—especially with Xerak and our own transportation device pulling the other way?

Teg felt a flash of relief that Ranpeti had not gone forward. That would have done it. Her entering the warehouse would have tipped the balance in Inehem’s favor. And once Ranpeti and Brunni had joined them, then I bet that Inehem would have closed off the way to her side.

Teg would have loved a chance to discuss her conclusions, but events were moving too quickly. In response to a motion from Zarrq, the three guards—Tiger-Head, Boar-Head, and Tapir-Head, the last holding the dobergoats’ leashes—had moved to the front. Inehem stepped back, sinking to a seat on a crate, her head bending in concentration. Leyenui, demonstrating a familiarity that startled Teg, given how formal the butler had seemed when they had met at the House of Fortune, placed a hand on the nape of Inehem’s neck. Had Teg’s own hand not been dropping toward the sun spider amulet in her pocket, she might not have corrected her misunderstanding so quickly.

Leyenui isn’t showing undue intimacy with “the mistress.” He’s feeding her mana.

Zarrq drew his twin swords, a motion his daughter echoed.

Peg pulled her own slim sword, shouting, “They’re going to charge. Get back! Ranpeti, get Brunni to the Library.”

Meg called, “Xerak has nearly unblocked our portal. Ranpeti, hurry!”

Teg froze, uncertain how best to help. I’m an archeologist not a fighter, Jim, she thought. Then she switched back to Labyrinth: “Through dangers untold, hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way . . .”

Peg’s voice, that of a commander of a thousand Cub Scouts, cut through the panic fogging Teg’s mind. “Teg! Help Xerak. We’ll hold the line.”

Teg wasn’t sure exactly how she should go about helping Xerak, but she knew that if the young not quite officially a wizard didn’t force whatever block Inehem had put on their transport spell, it wouldn’t matter what Teg wasn’t, or how hard she’d tried to this point. She darted back to Xerak. Mimicking what she’d seen Leyenui doing, she slid her hand beneath Xerak’s mane, resting her fingers on his neck where the heavier fur of his lion’s head merged into the lighter fuzz on his human torso. Beneath the heave of Xerak’s steady deep breathing, she could feel his pulse and, running beside it, something else, something not unlike what she had sensed the first time she used the sun spider amulet.

Remember your lessons. Quiet mind in a quiet body. Feed your mana into that pulse. Pretend that Xerak is nothing more than an amulet. It can’t hurt, right?

Teg felt when Xerak began to draw on her mana. The sensation was unsettling, but provided an unexpected benefit. Now she could “see” more clearly what was going on in the invisible magical battle.

Inehem also had a transport device; she wasn’t doing this on her own. The device Sapphire Wind had guided them to was the more powerful. However, it was also striving to bridge a much greater distance. The device Inehem was using was less potent and, interestingly, relied on a link to Brunni in order to set one of the directions. However, Inehem’s device was only being used to bridge a short distance, probably to a location on Sky Descry.

Probably a warehouse near one of the docks.

Rather than trying to tug them through to her side, Inehem was concentrating on firming up the shimmering liminal space, doubtless in order to send someone to grab Brunni. Xerak, meanwhile, was trying to work loose the hook Inehem had sunk into Brunni, his task made more difficult in that the child was in motion. Teg could tell that Xerak wasn’t going to be able to unhook Brunni before . . .

“Incoming!” Peg yelled.

At the same moment, Meg called out, her voice the calm, penetrating one librarians in all eras have used to remind patrons that the library is about to close and books being taken home need to be checked out, “Pull back. Let’s take the home field advantage.”

Meg then trotted over to Xerak. “Can you come along, dear boy? Sapphire Wind is going to try to hold open the gate on the Library end.”

Teg pulled herself out from feeding mana into Xerak to reply for him. “You and I are going to need to drag Xerak. Right now, he’s concentrating on keeping Inehem’s transport device from trumping ours.”

“I’ll take his left side,” Meg said, bending at the knees, then grabbing Xerak under his left arm.

Teg did the same on Xerak’s right, timing her rising to her full height to match Meg’s so that they lifted the young man together. As they started hauling him toward the Library, she was aware of Peg and her small army holding the line as Zarrq, flanked by Tiger-Head and Tapir-Head, ventured forward, stepping tentatively as they tested their footing on the aroura borealis pathway.

The clash of metal against metal caused Teg to pick up her pace, even as that little analytic corner of her brain noticed how much more erratic the rhythm of a real battle was than movies and television would lead one to believe. Nor was there any of the shouting of insults or clever comments that movies took such pleasure in. Four against three, and the four were older, stronger, and much more experienced. The only advantage the three defenders had was that the liminal pathway was not wide enough for Zarrq and his guardsmen to all fight at once, so Tapir-Head and the dobergoats had dropped back.

The first cry of pain came just after Teg and Meg had gotten Xerak into the Library, and propped him against a pillar. Teg bolted toward the gate, arriving in time to catch Vereez as Grunwold shoved her through, noticing out of the corner of her eye that Peg, her sword in hand, had moved up to fill the gap in the line of fighters.

Grunwold yelled something inarticulate and furious, then there was another scream, deeper and masculine, but Teg couldn’t spare the attention to see who had been injured. She only hoped it wasn’t another of their small company.

Grabbing Vereez around the younger woman’s waist and stumbling with her back into the Library, Teg saw a long slice had been chopped through the heavy sleeve that was the only thing protecting Vereez’s left arm. The cut was deep enough that white bone showed, and blood was gushing out. Teg clamped her hand down in an attempt to staunch the flow, then Nefnet was beside her, and Vereez was fainting, Teg was catching her, arms holding the young woman against her chest, even as she was turning her head to try to figure out what was going on in the chaos where a gate remained open in midair.

Grunwold, Kaj, and Peg were holding the fighting line, backing further into the Library. The transport portal’s aperture was shrinking, dimming to dormancy. That was good. Less good was that whatever Inehem and Leyenui were doing was slowing the process. Their enemies were going to make it through before the portal closed, although they were no longer able to keep a line of three, but had to squeeze through one at a time.

Zarrq had come through first, still locked with Grunwold who, although using his sword, had his head bent as if he’d bring his antlers into play if given the chance. When Tiger-Head emerged, Kaj used his club and long knife to good effect, keeping the shorter but more solidly built warrior well occupied defending himself. Boar-Head managed to slip around the edges of the line and paused, both assessing the battlefield and creating an opening through which Tapir-Head, who was bleeding from a defensive wound to his left hand, came through. Apparently, he’d left the dobergoats behind.

Or maybe they were too smart to trust themselves to such an insubstantial bridge, Teg thought.

Boar-Head muttered something, the slight jerk of his tusks as he pointed with his chin making Teg suspect he was saying something like, “I’ll help the boss, you help Tiger.”

What can I do? What can I do? Teg was thinking frantically, grasping in her pocket for the sun spider amulet. If they’d move, I could maybe gum up Inehem when she comes through, but . . .

She was still shaping her barely realized plan when Peg, screaming as might a banshee from the legends of her Irish heritage, ran forward. In one hand, she brandished her sword, with the other she was ripping off her mask, bringing the full horror—for really she did look fearsome—of her naked, hairless, flat human features into view.

The three guards each froze for one precious moment. With a wild strike of her blade, Peg walloped Tapir-Head directly on his already wounded hand. Kaj caught Tiger-Head under the chin with the full force of his club, then, when the guard’s head snapped back, did something complicated that swept his legs out from under him. Kaj then turned to face Boar-Head who was still gaping at the monster that had been hidden by the pronghorn antelope mask.

Yet Peg’s diversion would not have been enough to give them a permanent advantage if Ohent—who had apparently been asleep—had not staggered out from behind the screened-off area. Seeing her son in danger, she went mad.

Robes fluttering, veil skimming from her shoulders like a cloak of black mist, Ohent tore across the room as if she were once again the sleek and terrible warrior of decades past. In vivid contrast to Peg, who had not stopped screaming, Ohent was the silent promise of horrible death. Caught between these terrors, the three guards threw down their weapons and flung themselves on the floor, hoping for mercy or at least a less horrible death.

Evenly matched, Zarrq and Grunwold had continued their clash, and might have continued to do so until someone got in a lucky blow, but another unexpected ally entered the field. Emsehu, snapping his long crocodilian jaws, came rushing forth, clearly with every intention of shearing off Zarrq’s legs. Only a gout of white light that smelled like peppermint, but apparently burned, from Leyenui, who had emerged half carrying Inehem just as the aperture closed, saved Zarrq from losing a leg beneath the knee.

Inehem fell to one knee, calling out, “We surrender! We surrender!”

Zarrq immediately shifted to defense, and Grunwold stepped back. With a snap that was more threat than promise, Emsehu also broke combat, although he continued to stand beside Grunwold.

Only Ohent, who was racing toward Inehem, didn’t pause.

Kaj shouted at Ohent, interposing his own body between Inehem and the approaching fury.

“Mother! I’m all right. We’re all all right. Don’t make matters worse! Please!”

Ohent heard his voice and slowed, but she was still growling and there was no intelligence in the snow-leopard-blue eyes that peered over her veil. Looking down at the floor, wet with Vereez’s blood, she said in a voice that was all the more terrible for its clinical calm:

“Someone is not ‘all right.’ That’s a lot of blood.”

Teg said, “Vereez. She’s been wounded. Nefnet’s doing what she can.”

Meg, also now maskless, had brought a pillow to set under Vereez’s head. Once she slid it into place, she started to move away to give Nefnet room to work, but Vereez’s uninjured arm came up in mute appeal, so Meg stayed holding Vereez’s hand.

The whites of Grunwold’s eyes showed, making him look like a stag at bay in some Victorian hunting print, but he kept control of himself.

“If you really surrender, then drop your weapons and let us bind your arms. I’m not ready to trust you.”

After weapons clattered down, Grunwold started by tying Inehem’s hands behind her back, while Kaj took Zarrq. Neither of the extraction agents protested, and Peg trotted over, cheerfully suspicious.

Bending to make a close inspection of Inehem’s bonds, she said, “Redo those, Grunwold. Inehem’s got small enough hands that—see how she’s held them—she’d be able to slip loose. My Diego, the boy who went through the poltergeist phase, also studied how escape artists did their tricks.”

Grunwold snorted a dry laugh. “I bet he did.” But he also retied the bonds under Peg’s inspection, and Teg didn’t think it was her imagination that Inehem’s ears drooped just a little as he did so.

Kaj stood back so Peg could check Zarrq’s bonds, but most of his attention was for Ohent. His mother had straightened her veils and stood watching her former allies, her hand resting on the head of one of the Library’s resident dobergoats, several of which were now milling around.

“Kinda late, aren’t they?” Kaj said, jerking his head to indicate the arriving creatures.

Xerak sighed from where he now stood, leaning against the pillar for support. “Our fault. We opened the gate. We announced we were bringing strangers. By the time the guardians realized that not all those strangers were welcome, Peg and Ohent had saved the day.”

“Makes sense. I guess.” Kaj shoved his club into his belt and jerked a thumb at the captives. “What do we do with these people?”

“Bind any wounds, then stow them in a side chamber where they can’t hear us confer,” Grunwold suggested, his voice gravelly with barely suppressed fury, “and let the guardians do their thing guarding them. After we have a chance to talk, then we’ll decide what to do with them.”

No one argued. Even Inehem and Zarrq went meekly. Since Emsehu led the motley assortment of guardians, and Zarrq’s leg still oozed through its bandage, this probably helped make the captives meek. By the time the invaders had been imprisoned, Nefnet was ready to report on Vereez.

“She’ll keep the arm,” Nefnet said, sinking down on one of the benches, “but it was a close thing. I’m not boasting. If I hadn’t been here, Vereez would have lost the arm—and might have died from blood loss and shock. As it is, given that we’ve already established that some of the herb gardens not only have survived but that what they grow is more potent for not being picked for over two decades, she should make a rapid recovery.”

Grunwold looked where Vereez lay unconscious on the floor, still gripping Meg’s hand. “Zarrq did that. To his own daughter. He did that. I saw him. I want to kill him.”

“Whether or not to kill him,” Meg said primly, “is a decision that Vereez should have some say in, I think. Why don’t you and Kaj lift her onto one of the cots? This floor is cold. That is if Vereez can be moved. Nefnet?”

“Definitely move her,” Nefnet said. “She won’t feel anything for a while, but I could use some more herbs. I’ve exhausted much of what was in the med kits, and since I will be forced to use fresh, I’ll need a considerable quantity.”

“While I sympathize with Grunwold’s desire to kill Zarrq, or at least stomp him,” Peg said, “I agree with Meg that Vereez should have some say as to the fate of her parents. So, since we’ll want to wait for her to come around, let’s go pick some flowers. I’m too wired to sit still. Teg, too tired?”

“Not too,” Teg said. “Let me get this mask and these robes off first, and put on jeans and my hiking boots. Xerak, are you mobile enough to come and make sure we choose the right plants? Otherwise, I think we need Nefnet. Vereez is our other herbalist.”

“I can manage,” Xerak replied, “but I might not be good for much more than sitting in the sun and watching you ladies pick flowers.”

“I will stay here,” Meg said. “While we wait, I can fill Ranpeti and Brunni in on our shared history. They’ve really been very polite even after Peg unmasked, but I’m sure they have questions.”

Indeed, Ranpeti, Brunni in her arms, stood wide-eyed over to one side, both so shocked that neither had made a sound. Teg didn’t think that would last. Brunni was interested by the faces the humans had kept behind their masks, but not unduly disturbed. Maybe Peg’s racing to the rescue had made perfectly clear that these new monsters were firmly on her side. Ranpeti was probably too polite to comment.

Ohent seemed as calm as she ever did. “I’ll help nursemaiding the wounded. I like this little girl.” Her gesture indicated Vereez, but she was looking at Brunni. “And, even if Ranpeti doesn’t remember me, we met several times long ago.”

Kaj said, “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on the prisoners. Other than Emsehu, the Library’s guardians aren’t always very smart.”

Grunwold grinned at him, whatever resentment he’d been nursing over Kaj’s past relationship with Vereez dimmed by their recent shared battle. “Good idea. I’ll go guard Teg and Peg. I don’t trust myself to hold back if Zarrq and Inehem decide to try to escape.”


Back | Next
Framed