Falls

by Melinda Kucsera

  There was someone else too. Someone had been with them earlier, but that person was a shadow of a worry Sarn couldn’t call to mind.

  “The mountain’s warded. I can’t see what’s happening in there, but I know who’s causing the shaking.”

  “Who?”

  J.C. shook his head. His face was a mask of regret. “I am. This place is warded against my kind, but I must get inside.”

  Everything J.C. said rang with sincerity, so Sarn nodded. “Stay behind me,” he said to his wide-eyed son, and Ran echoed his nod. Then he led on.

  When no more rocks fell, Sarn let the shield go. It retracted into his hand and rushed back to its den. He must intercept Miren before his brother reached the Lower Quarters.

  “I’m hungry, Papa. Lunch was a long time ago.”

  Of course, it was and there was no meal waiting for them in his cave. Sarn gnashed his teeth in frustration and revised his plan again. Where could he get food and fast?

  His magic fired off a warning triggering his head map. Dirk’s icon was in the Ægeldar. Dirk—the black lumir crystal—gray writhing trees—her branches weaving a complex pattern then white drowning him. Everything came rushing back in too vivid snatches, rocking Sarn on his heels.

  “Papa?”

  “Shit.”

  “You said a bad word.” Ran shook his finger at Sarn.

  “Sorry, I’m not having a good day.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she stole my memory again, but it’s all back now and I know what I must do.”

  “Help me get inside.” J.C. squeezed his shoulder. “I can help, but not from out here, not without causing more harm than good.”

  Right. That was first on the list, so Sarn nodded then he sank to his knees as he caught the confused look on his son’s face. Oh, surely not, she wouldn’t—she couldn’t—Oh, please not my son.

  “What do you remember?” Sarn watched his son’s eyes.

  “You made a bargain with J.C. We saw the Queen Tree and you told me why bad people hurt the other trees. Then we came back here. Why do you ask?”

  Sarn hugged his still confused son then straightened. She hadn’t harmed his son after all. I knew she wouldn’t.

  “I thought she took the memory away from you.”

  “Is that why we fell when the light went away? I dreamed someone was tugging something away from me, but I pulled hard and woke up. Things were a little confusing after that, but I ‘member everything now.”

  Sarn looked to J.C. who nodded confirming his worst fears. She had tried to take Ran’s memory away and she might have succeeded for a little while. “Why would she do that?”

  “Because he’d jog your memory with comments and questions.” J.C. held both hands up in surrender. “I’m not saying I agree with her decision because I don’t.”

  “But he’s only a child.”

  And knowing she’d do such a thing to someone so innocent cut Sarn to the quick. He felt like a pawn falling through her branches. He pivoted to face the distant forest and knew if he pitched his thoughts to her, she’d hear him. Is that all I am to you—a game piece you can move when it pleases you?

  So Fall We All

  People pushed into the cavern, blank-eyed, led by their sins and that insistent call. It throbbed in their bones and buzzed in their ears driving out all thoughts save one—an offer of surcease.

  “Come, sinner, thy time is nigh.”

  Yes. Oh, how he wanted that. Hands extended to pluck that promise from the air, Jersten strode past his shambling neighbors, weaving through gaps that opened before him as if his passage toward the hooded man who offered everything he wanted was preordained.

  And why shouldn’t it be? That voice whispered in the back of his mind. The one who’d suggested all his best schemes.

  All his life, Jersten had felt Lady Luck’s hand on his shoulder, propelling him toward some great deed. That deed now sparkled before him. It stretched in a wall of coruscating white from floor to ceiling. People threw themselves at it, screaming in ecstasy. They struck that glorious light and writhed, but their exultation turned to shouts of pain as they slumped down.

  On it went—bodies hit that wall of light then fell as new ones replaced them in an endless cycle. After a time, the light-wall stuttered, and Jersten smiled. This was his moment—his triumph. He got a running start and timed it just right. When the light cut out for a moment, he rushed through and jinked left to avoid falling rocks the size of watermelons.

  A malevolent force buffeted him as it swept past. He careened around piles of rubble following the commands of that insistent voice, but he stopped when a thin substance shimmered over a yawning chasm.

  Entranced, Jersten stared at it as he fingered the stone in his pocket.

  Throw me, it seemed to say.

  But Jersten gripped his prize. No, I paid good money for you.

  You have another one in your cave. Throw me.

  Jersten shook his head.

  Within that shifting radiance, patterns emerged. Were those circles? Yes, they were. I’ve seen that pattern somewhere before. As Jersten thought that, the spell pulling him along lessened then broke altogether as he recalled where, but they were green then and those radiant wheels had turned in a young mage’s eyes.

  Jersten blinked. Where under the mountain am I? Because he didn’t recognize this place.

  Where is Sarn? He looked around. Wasn’t that brat here just a moment ago? Yes, he’d said something about needing to go outside. The crowd must have swept him away just as it had done to Jersten.

  I need to talk to him about those strange rocks. I need that brat to identify them. Jersten squeezed the rock in his pocket. Just touching it made his money-hand tingle.

  Jersten fell as a man plowed into his back. He rolled and struggled to get out of the way before he was trampled by the blank-eyed mob surging toward that shining thing. Grabbing hold of the wall, Jersten pulled himself up and stared.

  A hooded man turned his crooked smile on the rank upon ranks of fodder for his schemes. He floated above their heads, his skeletal hands blurring as he directed the shadows herding people into this cavern.

  Saints preserve me, I was almost one of them. Jersten shuddered, glad Lady Luck had delivered him once again from trouble. But the question remained—what Power was that floating thing in the black robes?

  Jersten dredged up the Litany of Allies, Enemies and Other Folk and ran through the stanzas he could recall seeking a match. But the years had degraded his memory of that epic poem. Who knew his life would depend on it one day? Shayari wasn’t the wild place it had been when that poem was written.

  Too bad Sarn wasn’t around. That mage was still young enough to recall the entire poem. Jersten gripped the black-veined rock in his pocket and the voice stopped murmuring in the back of his mind.

  Beside that hooded skeleton stood a grim-faced Dirk. Now, that was interesting. What’s your angle in all this?

  The Queen of All Trees didn’t answer nor explain her actions. Sarn waited until his son grew restive. His hands fisted at his sides driving the splinter in deeper. Heat chased ice as the marks spread across his shoulder and down his chest. But Sarn ignored it. As he fixated on the thought of someone messing with his son’s mind, his anger grew until he could scarce contain it.

  My son is not a pawn in your game. Interfere with him in any way and I’ll—but he couldn’t complete the threat because, before today, she’d only ever helped him.

  “Papa? I’m okay. It was just a weird dream.”

  Sarn nodded and laid his unmarked hand on his son’s head. A tear traced the scar running down the left side of his face as he shook his left fist out. His nails had bit into his marked palm drawing blood to seal a threat he couldn’t make because, in her own way, she was trying to protect them. Some of the marks on his arm receded, making his skin crawl as he forgave her.

  “I can’t hate her for protecting us from the magic-killer,” Sarn said as he turned to t
he hidden door. It was just around the next bend in the switchback trail.

  “No, you can’t, nor can you help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. But I do want your help if you’ll give it. You’ve proven to be a very resourceful man.” J.C. held out a hand, and they clasped forearms. And Ran took that moment of inattention to wander off.

  “Ooo, berries! I like berries.”

  Sarn and J.C. exchanged bemused headshakes then rounded the bend. Indeed, wild blackberry canes tangled at the base of a sheer vertical cliff. Since it was only the middle of June, their berries were still bright red and quite tangy.

  Though that didn’t deter Ran in the least. He combed through the canes, ignoring their thorns in search of a snack.

  “They aren't ripe yet.”

  Ran shot him a glare then disappeared into the thicket. A juice stained Ran reappeared a moment later frowning at the bright berries in his hand.

  “I told you they aren't ripe.” Sarn accepted the unwanted berries and ate them with a shrug. Ran stared at him. “What? I like them tangy like this.”

  Ran shook his head then ambled over to the edge to look down at the trail they’d just hiked then up at the distant peak six-thousand-feet above them. Of course, he couldn’t see the peak since a precipice blocked it from view. Mount Eredren didn’t seem all that tall on the inside when winding between levels, but it was more than ten times as tall as the Queen of All Trees.

  “I want ripe food. I like sweet berries and sausages. Can we get some after we help J.C.?”

  Sarn nodded and tapped a lump on the rock face with his boot. A pressure-sensitive mechanism slid part of the wall aside to reveal absolute darkness until Sarn crossed over its threshold. His glowing eyes washed away the shadows as he stepped onto a landing then extended a hand to J.C. who peered curiously into the hole.

  “Food is that way.” Ran pointed up.

  “I know but I don’t think we’re heading up.”

  “No, we’re not,” J.C. said as he clasped Sarn’s hand.

  Thin bars of green light streaked across the entrance, barring J.C.’s way. Sarn frowned at them. One such beam passed harmlessly through his forearm.

  “It’s never done that before.”

  “I’m a special case,” J.C. shook his head ruefully.

  Fascinated, Ran thrust a hand toward one of those beams until Sarn blocked him.

  “Ran, step away from the door. This landing isn’t that large.”

  “But I want to help.”

  “You’ll help plenty by moving back.”

  Of course, Ran didn’t budge. Great, he needed to help J.C. cross and keep his son from harm. Why was nothing ever easy? Sarn was about to reach behind him and remove his son to a safe place when J.C. spoke.

  “Give me your other hand then when I say so, pull with all your might. I’m not an expert on wards, but I think that should work.”

  “All right.” Sarn did as he suggested.

  “Fix in your mind an image of me crossing and pull as hard as you can. Now.”

  Let him cross. At his unspoken command, the protections winked out and J.C. fell across the threshold and crashed into Sarn. They struck the wall enclosing the staircase and the mechanism slid the door closed leaving them with just the glow of Sarn’s eyes for light.

  “Thank you.” J.C. shook Sarn’s hand. “Our bargain’s fulfilled, but—”

  “Come to me dear sinners, come one, come all. Between us there are walls, tear them down, tear them down, let nothing stand between us at all.”

  Sarn rocked on his heels as that voice and its dark command turned him toward the Lower Quarters. “I must descend into the pit, now—no.” Sarn shook his head, but that summons overrode all other thoughts. What was I just doing? I can’t remember.

  You’re descending into the pit with all the other sinners, said the silky voice weaving through his mind.

  “What pit? Who said that?” But he knew. That voice was calling him back to the Ægeldar. Sarn shuddered at the thought.

  “And I must go with you.” J.C. clasped his shoulder and the voice faded, so did its pull. “Lead on. I fear my errand is a grim one.”

  He let go and the fell voice boomed through Sarn’s head, maybe even through the stairwell. It was so hard to tell what was inside his mind and what was outside it.

  “In your hearts, I dwell on high, my time’s nigh. Tear down the walls between us, break them all. Come, sinners.”

  “What walls? Is he talking about the Queen of All Trees’ shield?”

  “Did she leave a shield near a pit?”

  “Yes, I saw it earlier.”

  “Then that must be it. What's in this pit?”

  “A scary monster with many arms,” Ran said, shuddering at the memory of their earlier run-in with it. “I don't want to see it again.”

  “It might be a different pit he's talking about, or there might not be one at all. He does like his rhymes and his games.” J.C. shrugged then spread his hands wide.

  “Regardless, I must find out what he's up to and put a stop to it. I can't ask you to endanger your son. If you're still willing to accompany me, your help would be invaluable. But I understand if we must part ways.”

  “I want to go with him, Papa. I want to help.” Ran was already nodding, but Sarn glanced at the stairs.

  “What about that voice? If we head toward it, will it overtake me?”

  “Not for long. From what I can hear, he’s professing lies, and lies are anathema to you.”

  “He’s calling everyone, isn’t he, this ‘Adversary?’”

  “Yes, if you’re worried, stay close to me. I can lower his voice.”

  “What about my brother?

  “His summons is gaining in strength. If your brother hasn’t heard it yet, he will.”

  “And it’ll compel him to go down.” Sarn nodded, grimly, which was another argument in favor of accompanying J.C. Hell, who am I kidding? I want to help J.C. “How do we stop this ‘Adversary?’”

  “We go down. Hold tight to your father, Ran. That’s a good boy.”

  “You’ll jump us like Bear did.”

  “How did you guess?”

  J.C.’s eyes twinkled as the stairwell vanished. It was replaced by a nondescript tunnel. It could be any of them, but this one Sarn knew well since it led to the cavern with the pink lumir island and beyond it, to a place he didn’t want to go.

  J.C. cocked a brow in inquiry. Sarn pointed.

  “That way until we reach a junction.”

  J.C. nodded, and the tunnel vanished.

  Queen’s Gambit

  Inari halted before the boulder at the foot of the mountain trail. Feeling eyes on her, she pivoted expecting to see Ranispara heading her way. Instead, her breath caught, and her eyes bulged. A tree standing at least a thousand-feet tall waited just beyond the ring of menhirs. Silver light suffused her bark and sparkled in her crown.

  As Inari stared, dumbfounded at the Queen of All Trees, the edges of her being flickered. A shining branch beckoned to her, and she approached, unable to tear her eyes away from Shayari’s fabled Queen. Never had she thought to see her up close and in person.

  What did the Queen of All Trees want with her? Inari strode toward that numinous being uncertain what to expect until an invisible wall stopped her. White light filled her, and the seed of magic planted a month ago when Sarn had lost control of his magic blossomed. Inari gasped, and her basket fell from her nerveless fingers spilling tarot cards on the ground.

  Her smallest branches twisted in a mesmeric pattern as the cards rose and shuffled themselves. The Queen of All Trees flicked a root and a card escaped the deck and floated face up to Inari. With shaking hands, she took it. It was the star. The Queen of All Trees had given her hope’s card. What did that mean?

  “Be my eyes, Inari. You’ve traveled much of my land and you can freely come and go into the mountain. You can see things happening in there that I can’t.”

  The wind shuffled the deck again a
nd a new card floated out—the ace of swords. On the card, a white hand held a sword aloft with a crown balanced on its tip. The card returned to the deck and they, in turn, settled into her basket.

  Inari opened her mouth to accept this honor, but the ground shifted, and the distance mounted as the Queen sent her away—still holding hope’s card. Had something pulled the Queen away? Was some serious business afoot in the enchanted forest involving her missing sister? Inari blinked, and her eyes focused on her friend’s worried face. Ranispara gave her shoulder one last shake.

  “Inari, are you, all right?”

  Inari nodded and noticed she still held the star card in her hand. She stowed it in her basket with the rest of the deck and covered the top with a fold of her shawl. Best if she didn’t advertise her gypsy ways. Only Ranispara knew she was an expert card reader. She’d passed many pleasant evenings doing readings for her friend.

  “You’re sure? You were standing there gawking for a good five minutes before I reached you.”

  Shouts drew Ranispara’s attention to the other side of the meadow and beyond it to the enchanted forest on the west side. She shaded her eyes and squinted at a group of men shaking their heads in utter perplexity. “How’d the reckoning go? Give me the highlights for now, but I want the whole story as soon as I’m off work. If I get off tonight.”

  “What reckoning? What are you talking about?”

  “Your meeting with Sister Psychopath. Don’t play coy with me. I want all the gory details.”

  Inari rubbed the heel of her hand over a spot just below her collarbone where something warm pulsed in sync with her heart. It was a gift from the Queen of All Trees, but Ranispara was talking about a different meeting. One she had forgotten. Why had she come down to the meadow?

  “Oh, come on, you did talk to Aralore didn’t you?”

  Inari shook her head then looked for her sister. “She’s here? Where? I don’t see her.”

  “Are you sure she didn’t bash your head in? You’re acting funny.” Ranispara, pivoted, turning concerned eyes on Inari and her fraying braid flopped over her shoulder.