Holes in the Veil

by Beth Overmyer

The man shook his head and his eyes crinkled at the corners ever so slightly, though there was no longer a smile on his lips. “No, Jinn. I am not. Most of us have foresight, though.” He gave her a pointed look.

  Jinn swallowed. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse. “How did you know my name?”

  He shot another bolt of light at her, now violet, and this time she was ready for it. It bounced off her blade and hit a boulder, and he took a few slow, subtle steps forward. “I know a lot of things, Jinn. I know where you come from, who your mother is.”

  Her spine stiffened at these words. Meraude was hated by magic-kind. Perhaps he had sought her out as a way of putting a stop to Mother’s scheming. If he thought the mage queen would sacrifice anything in exchange for having her daughter back safe and sound, he was sorely mistaken.

  “But I only know it because of things I’ve heard….” He hesitated and gave her a strange look.

  “No one is supposed to know I exist,” said Jinn, and then grimaced. It had just slipped out. She read his movements correctly, and was able to dodge another band of violet light. Something told her, though, that this man was merely playing with her. Well, whatever would bring Quick time, she would go along with.

  The man nodded. “I know.” Again he squinted at her, and then shook his head. “I still can’t see you properly.” He tilted his head to the left. “Have you been having trouble with your foresight?”

  Jinn stared him down, refusing to confirm or deny that she possessed any such ability, even though it was clear that he knew. He knew – how? “What are you?” she demanded.

  He shook his head, taking another two small steps toward her. “The curse,” he said with resignation. “That’s why I can’t see you, just your brother. My fate and yours are too entangled.” He sighed and ran a hand through his long dark hair. “Well, this complicates things.”

  He knows about Quick. Panic bubbled hot in her stomach. Was he after him too? She needed to lead this man as far away from Quick as possible. While he was standing there seemingly distracted, Jinn took off running to her left, the dagger clutched tightly in her hand. She made it several yards before she ran into an invisible solid wall, which threw her backward onto her bottom. Reeling, she crawled away from the barrier and rolled again, dodging a bolt of orange light.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and he sounded it. “I didn’t mean to harm you.”

  Again Jinn was on her feet, ready to lead him away from Quick, but the man threw out a visible wall to her right and to her left, boxing her in. “What do you want?” she screamed. “You killed the hags, y-you put an entire town to sleep.”

  The man raised a hand, as if trying to calm her down. “The hags were evil, Jinn.” His tone was pained. “As for the village, no one was harmed. I don’t harm innocents.” He took a few slow steps forward.

  Jinn began to breathe quickly. She was trapped – trapped like in the caves where she grew up. Control yourself, thought Jinn, trying to pull herself together. You’ve still got the hag’s knife. You’re not through yet. Keep him talking. Aloud she said, “What about the knife? The one that magicked itself into my pack. Was that your doing?”

  He nodded. “We’ll discuss that later. Right now, you need to calm down. Jinn, you’re breathing too hard. You’re going to faint.”

  Indeed, even now darkness formed around the edges of her vision. She raised the knife, but before she could throw it, a ray of white light hit her squarely in the chest, and the world began to grow dark, as did the man. A burst of violet hit her, and she knew no more.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Aidan

  It took Aidan and Slaíne ten minutes to ready themselves and then start moving again. Aidan was prepared to Summon the silver and bronze swords at a moment’s notice. With the shape-shifter still out there and the unknown lying ahead in wait for them, he felt better having every trick at their disposal.

  The Pull of magical blood was irresistibly strong now. Aidan led the way, skidding every so many steps as he was unable to control its draw. “This is where it begins.” He paused and pointed to where the magical battleground joined with the land they had just been traveling.

  The change was undeniable. Where they stood was wetland, cool with little sunshine, the middle of spring hanging in the air. Ahead was sunshine and heat, a land in the throes of summer. The sweet scent of ripened fruit perfumed the air. “So those were starberries on the map,” Aidan mused as he took one step over the line, Slaíne coming up beside him.

  “You sure we should be doin’ this? We could turn back….”

  Aidan shook his head. “We’re so close. We can’t turn back now.” He swallowed and stepped farther into the Ludland.

  Overhead, blue tree leaves the size of parasols crackled and swayed in a breeze that Aidan could not feel. The air was charged, dry, full of foreboding. Turn back. Only sorrow lies this way.

  Aidan turned to Slaíne, who was looking at him with dread. “Did you just say something?” he asked.

  “No, sir. I didn’t.”

  The hairs on the back of Aidan’s neck rose. He came to a stop. “Stand watch a moment. I think someone else is out here.” Aidan did not wait to see if Slaíne was doing as he asked before closing his eyes and reaching out to the Pulls surrounding him. There were too many living Pulls here, too many once-living Pulls as well, for him to discern if any of them were human or magical. A slow scream built up in the back of Aidan’s throat as he felt his powers being torn in eighty, ninety, a hundred different directions.

  “Sir!” Slaíne shouted. “What are you doing?”

  “There are too many of them. Too many strong Pulls.” Aidan ground his teeth in agony. If he were stretched any farther, things would start to snap in his body. As it was, his legs began to bow and his muscles cramped. Both arms were pulled out to the sides, and he thought they might be about to be dislocated.

  A soft hand rested on his shoulder. “Just focus on my Pull. That’s all ye gotta do. Focus on me.”

  Her touch was reassuring, and it was that that he tried to focus on. Bit by bit, part by part, he drew himself back into himself, centering his own Pull back on Slaíne’s. It was no easy task and took his utmost concentration. Maybe she had been right; maybe they should have turned around and gone back. But even now, he felt the land surrounding them, pulling them farther and farther away from where they had made camp.

  “Focus,” she said.

  He groaned, straining himself to the limits of his abilities. Then an idea occurred to him. Wincing, Aidan latched on to Slaíne’s Pull and Called her to himself.

  Slaíne let out a surprised yelp, but only moved a fraction of an inch. That had been enough, though, to jolt Aidan out of his struggle with the magical Pulls. “Well, you gotta do what works, I s’pose.”

  Aidan’s eyes fluttered open. The Pulls released him, and at last he could breathe easy. “I’m sorry.”

  “Next time, try to warn me, yes?” She moved ahead, and Aidan followed.

  The land had been flat, but now a slow yet steady upward slope began to form. Trees with trunks five times Aidan’s and Slaíne’s widths combined formed an aisle on either side, as if acting as a reception line. It occurred to him that these things should not exist. Purple fruit the size of Aidan’s head hung in clusters from trees shorter than Slaíne and half as wide. He touched one with the tip of his fingernail. Hissing, the fruit shrank and took on the appearance of an apple. “The map directs us to a cave.”

  Slaíne crept a ways ahead of him, her eyes on the horizon. “There’s hills up ahead, yes?” She took a few tentative steps forward and then hesitated. “This don’t feel right.”

  After taking a look to make certain nothing was creeping up behind them, Aidan turned and caught up with her. “I know what you mean.”

  But she shook her head. “No. I nay think ya do.” She held a hand up into the air, and pulle
d it back, as one burned. Swearing, she stuck her little finger into her mouth. “I can’t use my ability here, sir. Can you? I mean, besides Calling me?”

  Aidan grimaced. “I can feel everything, but….” There were so many strange and strong Pulls surrounding him, he was uncertain if he would be able to latch on to anything other than Slaíne. Still, he knew he ought to try. He focused on a green rock the size of his fist, tried to explore its Pull, and then attempted to Dismiss it. The rock did not move an inch. He shook his head and stopped striving. “No, I cannot.” They looked at each other. He readjusted the sack carrying the Drifting Goblet, which seemed to have doubled in weight within the span of the last ten minutes. Ominous, but nothing he could not manage.

  “Are there any people here, sir?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied, a little more harshly than he had intended to. This place was getting to him in the worst of ways. “Everything feels the same, only not.”

  Slaíne let out a quiet huff. “Well, that don’t help us any.”

  Now was not the time to stir the heat between them, so Aidan turned his attention to walking with care. He had to look to make certain that she was indeed following him, something he had never had to worry about before.

  “This cave,” said she, her tone measured, “we’ll find the Questing Goblet there?”

  Aidan pushed through some heavy hanging vines, holding them aside until Slaíne had passed through them as well. “The Goblet should be there, according to the map and Larkin and everyone I’ve talked to about this.” He knew she was getting at something, but he was uncertain as to what.

  “And if we find it, we’ll be able to take it, just like that?” She snapped her fingers, and the sound echoed in the stillness. “What I’m sayin’, sir, is, would a tomb such as this be left unguarded?”

  “I don’t know, Slaíne,” he admitted, half out of breath. “Who would guard it?”

  She pursed her lips and said emphatically, “I did not say ‘who’.”

  Cold sweat rolled down the back of Aidan’s neck, and he shuddered. “I take your meaning.” The hills seemed to be growing farther away rather than closer. After what might have been an hour of walking, they could no longer see them. Panting and sweating, the pair stopped. Aidan attempted to Summon a water bladder, but had no success. It would appear the only thing his magic worked on at the moment was Slaíne and perhaps himself. He shook his head at her, an apology.

  Tears might have been forming at the corners of her eyes, as she swiped at them for a moment. “Right,” she said, her voice unwavering. “Should we risk cutting a vine and draining it?”

  “I think not. There is something malevolent here. Whoever buried Cedric won’t have made things easy for us. Come, we’ve traveled this way before.” He pointed to the east, or what he hoped was still the east; the sun had been behind them moments earlier. “The starberries over there seem to be growing thinner and the grass seems to slope more upward. Let us try that path.” So they did, only to find themselves at a small stream that they had not seen moments before. The sound of trickling water ignited Aidan’s thirst, but he looked down and saw that the water was brown. With his abilities arrested, he knew there’d be no drinking of the water here. He tightened his belt and then led the way around the stream. Now the ground was sloping downhill. “I don’t understand.”

  But Slaíne did not seem so discouraged. “We have to try something else. Walking around like this is gettin’ us nowhere quick.” After drawing in a steadying breath, she started walking backward up the incline.

  He could only stare at her for a moment, thinking that perhaps she had gone mad from thirst. “Slaíne?”

  “Just do as I do. There’s got to be some magic here that needs tricking.” When he did not follow, she scowled at him. “The elves did things like this all the time, to break wards and such. They know more about magic than what’s good for a body.”

  There would be no arguing with that logic, Aidan knew, so he started backward up the hill as well. It didn’t take very long for him to realize that nothing was happening, except for them falling over several times. After ten minutes of this fruitless exercise, Slaíne came to a stop, as did Aidan.

  “Still goin’ nowhere. Huh.” She stood there, feet planted, hands on her hips, and then began turning in a counterclockwise circle.

  Aidan wondered if he ought to do the same, but continued to stand there, watching. He caught her after a moment before she could fall over. “Anything?”

  She put a finger to her lips, steadied herself, and then started walking again, forward this time. She stopped sooner this time and shook her head. “No, that did nothin’. Give me a moment, yes?” Her face screwed up in concentration as she marched in place. When that turned out to be useless, she spun in a circle, jumped up and down, pretended to climb a ladder, and threw herself into a tumble. Still nothing happened. She walked sideways, and skipped forward, then backward, then threw her hands up in the air and shouted. Aidan decided that last part was out of frustration and not meant to do anything magical. “I dunno, Mr. Aidan. I tried all the usual things. There might be some sort of spell that only a wizard can cast. In that case, we’re trapped.” Slaíne clenched her fists at her side.

  Aidan shook his head. “Perhaps this was a mistake. We should try to find our way out of this place.”

  Instead of agreeing, Slaíne clapped her hands together. “I don’t want to find that stream again,” she said, and took off walking.

  Frowning, Aidan followed her. “What the devil—”

  “Say it too, Mr. Aidan. We don’t want to come across that stream again, do we?” She continued to lead the way, and it dawned on Aidan what she might be doing.

  “No, we don’t want to find that stream again.” As soon as he said it, they crested a small hill and found themselves standing at the base of the stream.

  Slaíne beamed at him. “It’s called contrarian magic. Say the opposite of where you want to go, and you’ll wind up where you wish. ’Tis very basic magic for an elf, but it is effective if you don’t know what you’re lookin’ for.” She laughed and spun away from the stream. “Right, then. I don’t want ter find the tomb of Cedric the Elder.”

  Aidan repeated what she said, and they took off walking. At first, nothing seemed to happen. They were not walking in circles like they had been before, but the destination did not appear before them.

  Several times Slaíne repeated that she did not want to find the tomb of Cedric the Elder, and each time Aidan echoed her.

  They were walking downhill now, in the opposite direction of where he’d seen the hills or mountains earlier. That did not seem to discourage Slaíne, though, and her pace quickened.

  Finally, out of breath and clutching pangs in their sides, the pair found themselves standing at the opening of a fog-covered valley with a large hill on the other side. “That looks like what’s on the map,” he said, wishing he could Summon a water bladder. Aidan took a step toward their destination, but Slaíne threw out her arm and stopped him.

  “Nay make a move, sir. There might be traps.”

  Aidan frowned. “How will we know if there are, and what can we do about them?”

  That seemed to discourage Slaíne. She stood there, staring into the ether, and then, trembling, took a small rock from the ground and threw it into the fog. Nothing happened. “Right. Grab as many rocks as you can hold, sir. We may ’ave need of them.”

  So he did as she said. Aidan pulled the Goblet’s sack off his back and filled it with stones of all shapes and sizes. By the time he had gathered a sackful, Aidan could scarce carry it.

  Seeing his struggle, Slaíne took the other side of the sack, and they carried it awkwardly together into the mists. Again the way sloped upward, and they repeated their false wish about not wanting to find Cedric’s tomb. That worked for several paces, or seemed to. That was when the ground quaked.<
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  Aidan felt a strange, powerful Pull and managed to throw Slaíne out of the way and to his left as a giant boulder fell from the sky, landing right where she had been standing. Birds squawked in the near distance, and the mist, which had been disturbed by the boulder, settled back over the land. They looked at each other as the earth began to quake again. “Run!” Aidan shouted, grabbing her hand and the Goblet. Rocks fell out of the sack, and soon the sack itself fell away, leaving the Goblet. The Goblet seemed to have tripled in weight, and another boulder landed in front of them with a deafening crash.

  After spitting out a string of swearwords, Slaíne took to singing:

  “Rocks from the sky

  Fall down to the earth

  Hey, tiddly-dee-die

  Twelve times the size

  Of a full man’s girth

  Hey, tiddly-dee-die

  Oh, what a silly wretch

  Got in t’way.”

  Here Slaíne stopped and muttered something under her breath. “Oh, how did the next part go?”

  Aidan pulled her around the boulder, as another was headed down to where they were standing. “Is there a way to stop this?”

  “I’m trying,” she practically wailed. It took her a moment until she picked up the tune again.

  “Oh, what a silly wretch

  Got in t’way

  Oh, what a dreadful day

  No need to be squashed

  The foolish wretch

  No need for death

  If only he’d remembered

  His watch.”

  It was Aidan’s turn to swear, dragging her around another boulder that had fallen several yards in front of them. “What help is a watch going to do us? I haven’t got one, and our luck’s about to run out.”

  “No, not his watch, to watch. I had the words wrong.” She pulled Aidan to a standstill and looked up at the sky. “Dontcha take yer eyes off the skies for a moment, sir, and nay do blink. It’s the only way ter get out of here alive.”

  So Aidan cast his gaze to the sky and tried not to blink as they trod across uneven ground, nearly falling more than once. She had not steered him wrong yet with her knowledge of curses, and boulders ceased raining from the heavens, so he tried his best not to blink. His eyes watered and burned, his vision blurring until, inevitably, he blinked. Nothing happened. No boulder fell, the mists had lifted, and the sun was shining.