Shards of Time (53 page)

“What’s the hour?”

“Just at dawn.”

“Bilairy’s Balls! Alec must be low on food by now. Thero, you awake?” he asked. The wizard was sitting against the wall near the tunnel entrance, head back, eyes closed.

Thero opened his eyes. “Yes. I take it nothing’s happened?”

“That’s right,” Seregil muttered, staring at the wall again where the Great Seal had once been. This was where something would begin.

Micum came over and rested his hand on Seregil’s shoulder.
“You’re as jumpy as a cat on a griddle. That’s not like you. You’re not doing anyone any good by wearing yourself out.”

“I’m fine,” Seregil said, sighing. “It’s just the waiting.”

“We need to eat,” said Thero, standing and stretching.

Seregil forced himself to eat because he had to, but the thought of Alec possibly starving as he waited turned the bread to ashes in his mouth.

Somehow the night passed and Alec was glad for once to see the grey sky as what passed for dawn brought back the light. When he sat up to check the landscape, however, a wave of dizziness swept over him, stirring nausea in his empty stomach. Digging into his pack, he found half a turnip from the night before and ate it in thick slices. There was a little jerky left, as well, and he ate a strip, washing it down with a sparing swig from his waterskin. Even after that, he was still hungry, but he didn’t dare eat any more, not knowing when Klia could entice the dyrmagnos here. He thought he’d packed enough for at least two days, but he’d eaten more in the night than he’d intended. This was the longest he’d been in this plane, and it was sapping his strength faster than he’d anticipated. He ate another strip of jerky, the last one. That left him with a turnip and a little water left in the waterskin. Between that and lack of sleep, if things didn’t come to a head soon he would be too weak to pull the bow.

He lay down to conserve his strength. The day grew brighter, if you could call it that, and at last he heard the sound of horses from the road below. Flattening himself in the hollow, he kept his head down and listened as two riders came up the path.

“Come along, my dear, don’t hold back now,” said a woman.

“What difference does it make?” Klia replied, her voice bleak and dispirited in a way Alec had never imagined her capable of.

He heard them walking toward the tunnel and chanced a quick peek over the lip of the hollow. The beautiful woman in red had her hand under Klia’s arm, as if supporting her.
Klia nodded and walked slowly through the gaping mouth of the tunnel.

It was a long and weary walk to Zikara. Mika had never come to it from this direction. The night passed and the grey sky began to lighten as he and his friend reached the city gate. Mika was footsore, hungry, and frightened. He should have listened to his master, not the ghost.

There were lots of ghost people around today, going in through the open gate with wagons and carts.

The mute boy took Mika’s hand again and urged him through the twisting streets toward the tower. They were in sight of it when the great doors opened and Rhazat and Klia came out. Klia was thin and pale and looked very scared and sad. The two of them disappeared around the side of the tower and a moment later he saw them ride away in the opposite direction, the dyrmagnos mounted on Klia’s Moonshine.

“Where are they going?” Mika whispered, then realized no one was holding his hand. The ghost was gone.

Exhausted, Mika hurried after them.

They went out a gate he hadn’t seen before, and rode into the hills behind the town. They were walking their horses, so Mika hung back as far as he could and still keep them in sight, following them up a dirt road. They turned aside and disappeared behind a rise. Hurrying after them, he came across a path and followed it. At the end was a frightening, ugly face carved into a cliff. Its open mouth was the opening into a tunnel, and the two horses had been left outside, untethered. There was no sign of Klia or Rhazat. They must have gone inside.

As Mika approached the face, meaning to follow them, he heard a low whistle behind him and looked up to see Alec gesturing angrily for him to come to him. Mika scrambled up and found Alec lying in a hollowed-out place in the ground. He was pale and looked like he hadn’t eaten in days.

He pulled Mika down and hissed, “What in Bilairy’s name are you doing here?”

“That ghost boy brought me here to help.” It sounded weak. “I brought food.”

Alec didn’t look much less angry as he yanked open the food sack and wolfed down a handful of Sabriel’s brown bread, then broke a piece from what was left of the cheese and crammed that in his mouth. He found a piece of summer sausage and put it inside his shirt. Mika had never seen him like this.

“Now stay here!” Alec ordered. “Do you understand? Don’t move.”

“I promise,” Mika whispered back.

“I
mean
it, stay here.”

“I will, Alec.”

Shaking his head, Alec slung on his quiver and his black bow, then went down the hillside and disappeared into the tunnel.

Mika was miserable, awash in shame and disappointment. Why had the ghost brought him here? Why had he disobeyed Master Thero and followed the ghost? It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now he wished he’d never left Mirror Moon.

Rhazat lit the torches down the corridor and followed Klia to the cave. Klia had no reason to believe that the dyrmagnos could read her mind, but she concentrated on the task ahead as single-pointedly as she could, just in case. The gorget rested warm and sharp against her forearm up her right sleeve.

In the cave the Great Seal was bathed in its own soft glow. In this light the dyrmagnos appeared lovely and pure. Klia shivered. It was as if she was seeing the image of her ancestor, who had been called Wise. Had Nhandi looked like this, after she’d set the seal? Had she wept, or met her chosen fate dispassionately?

It was now her turn to live up to that sacrifice and make sure it had not been in vain.

“What will happen when I break the seal?” she asked.

“Won’t it be delicious to find out?” said Rhazat, smiling through Nhandi’s lips and eyes. “And I am so looking forward
to meeting your friends in person—your wizard lover, Seregil of the beautiful eyes, golden Alec, and handsome Micum. They’re just on the other side, I know. Let’s not keep them waiting.”

Klia approached the seal. It was very beautiful, and she thought of Nhandi holding it in her hand a thousand years ago.

Kamar yosi eyír, ashkira
, Nhandi whispered to her.
Samat ei
. Kill her.

“Get on with it,” Rhazat snapped. “Don’t just stand there, break the seal!”

Illior protect them and me
, she thought, reaching for the stone.
Protect us who serve you today
.

It was cool and smooth except for the tiny lines of the magical inscription. As she brushed her finger over it, it came loose from the mounting and fell to the ground at her feet.

She braced for she knew not what, yet nothing happened.

“Destroy it!” Rhazat ordered. “Now!”

Raising her foot, Klia stomped on the stone with the heel of her boot. It did not shatter as she’d expected but instead broke in two. The light died inside it and the ground began to shake as the cave wall in front of them suddenly flickered, giving her tantalizing glimpses of Seregil and Micum poised on the other side, swords drawn. Thero stood just behind them, palms pressed together in front of his heart. The sight of him held her attention the slightest moment too long. Rhazat pulled her up by her hair and got a hand around her throat.

“It’s begun. Let them watch,” she gloated, leaning in to press her lips to Klia’s brow.

Klia shook the golden blade from her sleeve and brought it up under Rhazat’s chin, slashing at the dyrmagnos’s throat as her own was being slowly crushed. Rhazat pulled back and grabbed Klia’s wrist. Caught in that double grip, Klia tried to twist away, but couldn’t get loose. The slash across Rhazat’s throat was not bleeding. The skin had simply parted, revealing more of the dry brown hide underneath. Klia clung to the blade as she felt the bones in her right wrist grind together.

Es rili!

Nhandi!
Hoping she understood the ghost’s intent, Klia grabbed a handful of Rhazat’s thick black hair with her gloved left hand and pulled with all her might.

Mika’s unexpected and unwelcome appearance had rattled Alec. He had no choice but to leave the child out there by himself.

He crept down the tunnel, bow held low, arrow nocked ready on the string. He could hear Rhazat’s voice, and Klia’s echoing back to him.

“What will happen when I break the seal?” That was Klia.

“Won’t it be delicious to find out?” replied Rhazat. “I am so looking forward to meeting your friends in person—your wizard lover, Seregil of the beautiful eyes, golden Alec, and handsome Micum. They’re just on the other side, I know. Let’s not keep them waiting.”

Oh, Illior, she knows they’re there!
he thought, alarmed. He crept forward until he could see the two women standing on either side of the glowing seal. He watched as Klia touched the stone and it fell to the ground. At Rhazat’s command Klia stomped on it.

The ground lurched under his feet, throwing him backward to land on his quiver. He heard at least one of the arrows snap. The light around him began to roil and curdle like milk in vinegar, and a deafening roar shuddered through the rock above and below him.

He lurched up to his feet in time to see Klia, caught in the dyrmagnos’s grip, grab Rhazat by the hair with her free hand and rip off the stolen skin. The skin and luxurious hair came away like a tattered cloak that had been draped over the dyrmagnos’s head, revealing Rhazat’s true form. Like Irtuk Beshar—who’d held him in a horrid embrace more than once—she was a weathered, withered husk with the flaccid remains of wrinkled dugs hanging against protruding ribs and leathery skin close on the bone. A few wisps of grey hair hung from her scabrous scalp, but her eyes were young and cruel and full of hatred as she lifted Klia off her feet, still
clinging to the skin. Behind them the cave wall was slowly fading away like frost melting down a windowpane, revealing Seregil and the others.

Alec raised the Radly, trying to keep his feet and draw steady. It would be hard enough to hit his target; he had almost the same chance of hitting Klia. And would the magic even work yet?

Shoot true, talí
.

“Aura Elustri málreil, talí.”
Alec drew the string to his ear and released it.

And missed.

The shaft flew by Rhazat and narrowly missed Seregil. The dyrmagnos whirled to face him, holding Klia between them like a shield. Klia had her back to him and he was glad not to see her face.

He had already set another arrow to the bowstring. Instinct overrode fear or doubt; he drew and released again. This time the arrow found a mark; it pierced Klia’s left shoulder and went through, into Rhazat’s chest just shy of her heart. Throwing Klia aside, the dyrmagnos extended her hand toward Alec. The magic hadn’t worked.

A dark form took shape by her side and a huge dra’gorgos came hurtling at him. Alec turned and ran.

“Why is it taking so long?” Seregil shouted over the rumbling and roaring. He’d expected the cave wall to disappear or explode or anything but flash before them like sunlight through leaves in a high wind. The dripstone disappeared on their side, reappeared, disappeared as the two planes began to mingle. And they could only watch helplessly as the dyrmagnos throttled Klia even as she ripped away Rhazat’s false skin, revealing a horrible naked body that belonged in a tomb, not here fighting with hideous strength.

And where was Alec?

Then the wall began to melt and an arrow suddenly buzzed by Seregil’s cheek, narrowly missing both him and Thero behind him.

“That’s Alec!” Thero shouted back to him, just as Rhazat
staggered and tossed Klia aside like a rag doll. She pointed down the tunnel and Seregil saw a hulking dra’gorgos take shape and advance on Alec. Before Seregil could do anything, Rhazat turned to face him.

Suddenly the horrifying figure of a flayed woman was standing next to Rhazat. The tattered fallen skin and hair whirled up from the ground and wrapped around the bloody figure, rapidly taking shape, healing, smoothing until a woman he could only guess was Hierophant Nhandi stood revealed, lovely in red velvet. The two women faced each other for an instant, then Nhandi flew at the dyrmagnos and got her hands around Rhazat’s throat. Klia dashed in beside her, striking at Rhazat with something that glinted gold in the double glow of Thero’s light and the torch burning in the other cave. Then the wall was gone completely and the world blurred as time flowed into time.

Everything went wobbly and weird around Mika. The ground melted away under him and he fell tumbling down the hillside. As he rolled to a stop he looked up in time to see the cliff and the face carved into the rock disappearing in little specks and sparks flying up in the air. Overhead, the grey clouds were shredding and roiling to reveal streaks of blue.

As the cliff and tunnel disappeared like a snowbank in spring, Mika saw a horrible black dra’gorgos pounce on Alec. Alec’s bow lay out of reach behind him and his arrows were scattered on the ground. Forgetting all about his promise, Mika ran toward him as he felt the red rising in him. Before it could explode he raised his hand and pointed a finger at the monster, at the same time concentrating the way Master Thero had taught him. The raw, screaming energy burned down his arm and out his finger and struck the dra’gorgos. It disappeared like smoke on the wind.

Instead of collapsing like he usually did after the red came, Mika ran to Alec.

“Thank you,” Alec gasped. “Fetch me my bow.”