Yaro stood up. “Brie, wake the boys and explain the situation. We’d better be ready to move at a moment’s notice.”
The Pentharian fingered a gold earring. “I wonder if the ruins open to everyone? Does your book say anything, Esán?”
“No. It only describes the temple and its symbolism.”
“I suggest we teleport somewhere else.” Desirol sauntered into the group.
Esán shook his head. “It follows the energy trail left behind by teleporting.”
Ira nudged in next to the RewFaaran. “What do you suggest then? At least if we teleport, it will give us more time.”
“Oh, Father,” moaned Torgin and pointed.
Everyone turned, eyes riveted to the far end of the marble walkway, where a spot of light shimmered, faltered, and began to grow. The arched entrance took shape. A shaft of sunlight shot along the marble path, spotlighting the HeLew od Metis. Its crystal center burst to life. Sparkles of light leapt around the temple.
In the distance, a dark form pounded toward them. Small at first, it grew bigger and bigger until it crouched, a silhouetted-figure beneath the sandstone arch.
As it began to straighten, Desirol gulped in air and gripped Esán’s arm. “A Mindeco.” The whimpered word held such hopeless terror that it left everyone but Yaro trembling. Its features still obscured in shadow, the creature’s gangly figure lumbered down the walkway. Long arms swung at its sides. A flare of light from the HeLew lit the hideous face long enough to bring a cry of horror from Torgin.
Never taking his eyes off the advancing form, Yaro motioned his charges behind him and asked in an undertone, “Esán, are there any other chambers in this ruin where we could hide?”
Brie whispered, “There are several. But I don’t remember where they are located. We don’t have time to look.”
Esán pulled the book from his pocket and thrust it into her hands. “I can hold it off for a while. Find a hiding place and put the telepathic picture in my head. Everyone hold onto me.” He put a hand on Yaro’s shoulder and an arm around Brie’s waist, shut his eyes, and pictured shields forming around them. His assessment with Wolloh replayed in his mind. Focusing on the energy he had used to ward off the projectiles thrown at him, he prepared to repel the Mindeco.
In the recesses of his mind, he was aware of Brie silently flipping pages. Fear emanating from Torgin, Ira, and Desirol almost suffocated him. Brie held hers in check. Yaro remained a shield in front of him, solid and calm—prepared to risk his life for theirs.
The beast slammed into the shields, stumbled backward, and let out a deep-throated growl. Mammoth fists pounded against the barrier. Esán’s friends pressed closer, their sweat smelling of fear, their breath hot on his neck. A roar of frustration shook the ruins. The stench of rancid meat washed over them. Dropping to all fours, the Mindeco prowled the perimeter of the shields. It completed the circle and straightened.
“I am here for the brother of Nissasa, the boy, Esán, and the twin, Brielle. Give them to me and the Compass of Ostradio, and the rest of you will not be harmed.” It planted its powerful body where they could see its heinous features. Its singular eye picked them out one by one. “If you choose to protect them…” It loomed taller. “I will kill you.”
The voice, so deep it sounded like the booming return of the surf in a storm, shook the barrier Esán fought hard to maintain. Another roar and another broke like a tidal wave, pounding again and again until Esán felt his control beginning to weaken.
“Esán!” Brie’s voice infused him with strength. The shields steadied. The blurred image of a room formed in his head. He focused. It stabilized.
Screeching a series of profanities, the beast, a battering ram of muscle and sinew, hit the barrier with the full weight of its huge body. Pain ripped through Esán. He crumpled to his knees. The power of the shield splintering into nothing tossed the Mindeco into the air like tumbleweed in the wind. It landed halfway up the walkway, a growling heap of angular bones.
Gasping for breath, Esán scrambled to his feet. In front of him, Yaro shifted to panther and crouched. The Mindeco regained its footing and lurched toward them. Esán flung himself on the panther’s back. It lunged at the oncoming beast. Their collision in mid air provided the contact needed to teleport them away from his friends.
Darkness, as black as tar, enshrouded them. Esán pitched through the air, slid across the floor on his side, and rolled to a crouch. Thunk, smash, groan—the sounds of battle bouncing off the walls told him the room was not big. A combatant brushing his arm forced him backward until the wall halted his progress. He swung his pack from his back, found his lite-stick, and thought it on.
The Mindeco towered above him. A powerful hand slapped the lite-stick from his grip. Arcing across the space, it skittered along the floor and lay glowing. In the instant before the creature’s enormous foot smashed it, Esán saw Yaro’s panther form, already lathered with blood, ready to spring.
Grappling with his racing thoughts, he reviewed his options. What can I do to help? The lite-stick’s worthless. How can I see in this… He sliced at the blackness with the side of his hand. Simmer down, Esán. Pull yourself together so you can think. Closing his eyes, he slowed his breathing and let his senses bring an image of the two battling creatures into focus.
In the center of the square chamber, massive Mindeco hands encircled the panther’s neck. The big cat shifted. A snake writhed around the Mindeco’s wrist and sunk its teeth into the leathery flesh. With a howl of rage, the creature from RewFaar flung the snake through the air. Another shift and the panther landed and pounced, sending the Mindeco crashing against the wall. It shook its ugly head, sucked its wrist, and spit. Its roar shook the chamber as it hurled its body mass at the prowling panther.
Esán threw up a shield around Yaro. A grunt of frustration escaped the Mindeco as it smashed into the barrier and slid to its knees. The dark pool of its eye found Esán. In one long stride it crossed the space between them. Its big fist plowed through the air, grazed his temple, and sent him tumbling into oblivion.
Distant sounds of conflict dragged Esán to the surface. He struggled to sitting. A panther’s scream slammed his memory into place. He squeezed his eyes closed to erase the darkness. Images formed. Yaro in his natural form sprawled on his back at the feet of the Mindeco. It raised its fist for the killing blow and threw back its head, a howl of triumph issuing from opened jaws. Esán flung himself across the Pentharian’s body.
Torgin stared at the spot where Yaro and the Mindeco had collided. Breaking free of the paralysis that had rendered him motionless, he ran forward. “Where are they? Yaro? Yaro? Answer me!”
Desirol seized his arm and yanked him around. “They’re gone, you idiot. Stop yelling.”
“Take your hands off me.” Torgin pulled away and balled his hands into fists. “Yaro’s my heart brother…”
“And how stupid is that?” Desirol poked him in the chest with a finger. “He’s a mercenary who sells his services to the highest bidder.” He poked again. “So who’s paying him to take care of you?”
Anger propelled Torgin’s fist toward the RewFaaran’s sneering face. Ira grabbed his wrist and glared at Desirol. “You’re out of line, Des. I can’t believe you said that. Apologize.”
Brie stepped between them. “Please. We’re in major trouble, and you three are fighting.”
Torgin snatched his wrist from Ira’s grasp. Fighting to gain a semblance of control, he marched back to the Statues of Sinnttee. Tutsasseen, the Goddess of Wisdom, gazed down at him. The understanding in the carved face made him cup his hands beneath the water cascading from her clear quartz bowl. He drank deeply. Cool wetness sliding down his throat quenched his thirst. But that was not all. His anger subsided, and compassion blossomed in its stead.
Returning to his friends, he met Desirol’s angry gaze. “I don’t need an apology. I’m sorry your brother betrayed you, Des. Yaro is not Nissasa. When you have known him longer, you will understan
d why he means so much to me.”
“I didn’t mean…” Desirol mumbled, his cheeks flooding with color.
Torgin stopped him with a shake of the head. “It’s done. We have other things to worry about.”
Brie’s smile rewarded his efforts.
Ira spoke up. “Like where did they go, and what do we do now?”
“Esán teleported them to the chamber I found in the book,” Brie said. “The question is whether Yaro is still alive.”
Torgin wanted to scream but kept his voice calm. “He has to be.”
Desirol sank down on a bench. “Mindeco cannot be killed, not by ordinary means anyway.”
“Tell us about them,” said Ira, joining him. “What is a Mindeco?”
The RewFaaran shuddered. “It is the monster that creeps though your nightmares and rips your heart out. It is pure evil, and it thrives on killing. Mindeco are only found in the Trutore Mountains on RewFaar. Nissasa must have brought this one with him, which is frightening in and of itself.”
“Why?” Torgin sank to the ground in front of him.
“Binding one is almost unheard of on my world. You must be more evil and more powerful than the Mindeco to gain control.”
“Which means,” Ira said, “that none of us wants to fall into your brother’s hands.”
Torgin shuffled through his confusion. “I still don’t understand what it is, or why it’s so powerful.” He looked at Brie who stood nearby, staring into the distance. Her body shuddered from head to foot. Scrambling to his feet, he hurried to her side. “What do you see?”
“They’re still fighting,” she whispered. “Yaro is…”
A light flashed. Esán appeared in front of the statues, with Yaro in a crumpled heap beneath him. Blood-soaked braids tumbled around the Pentharian’s colorless face. One leg twisted at an odd angle.
Ira helped Esán to his feet and assisted him to a bench while Brie knelt by Yaro and pressed an ear to his chest.
Torgin choked and tried to force his legs to move. His reality wavered. Esán’s shaky voice as he described the battle sounded like static on the V-Screen in Idronatti.
“I had to wait until the Mindeco wasn’t touching him to teleport him back. I tried to help by putting a shield around him, but the Mindeco knocked me senseless. When I came to, Yaro, in his true form, lay at his feet, unmoving. The Mindeco stood over him howling. I threw myself over Yaro’s body and teleported him here. I’m so sorry, Torgin.”
Reality rushing back into focus left Torgin unable to control his legs. He dropped to his knees and touched the still face. “Yaro, speak to me. Open your eyes.” He struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. Even in the dim light of the ruins, he could make out the gashes running the length of his friend’s tattooed torso. Blood oozed from the torn flesh on his gold-scaled legs. Drops fell from a cut on his arm, forming a spattered patch on the temple floor. Torgin rocked forward. “You can’t be dead.” He withdrew his hand and stared at his blood-covered palm. “We have to do something. Ira?”
Brie knelt beside him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “He’s gone, Torgin.” She laid a hand on the Pentharian’s chest. “He has no heartbeat and no breath.”
He gathered his heart brother up in his arms and sobbed.
Ira felt Torgin’s sorrow as though it were his own. Yaro was, after all, his friend, too. He fingered Efillaeh’s handle, withdrew it from its scabbard, and balanced it on the palm of his hand. Will it work? He looked down at Yaro’s battered body. I won’t know unless I try . He glanced a question at Brie.
Blinking back her tears, she nodded and touched their friend’s arm. “Help me lay him flat, Torgin, so Ira can place Efillaeh on his chest.”
Torgin moved until Yaro’s head lay in his lap. Brie and Desirol straightened the Pentharian’s broken limbs and knelt on either side of him. Esán joined the group. Pallor hallmarked the toll his battle to save Yaro had taken on his fragile strength.
Ira knelt across from Esán, his resolve strengthened by the hopeless pleading in Torgin’s expression. Grief, shock, and horror had leached the color from his friend’s cheeks. Tears glistened in eyes filled with dread.
This has to work . Ira held the knife up in a plea to the Statues of Sinnttee. “Please, help Efillaeh. Please help our friend.” Steadying his shaking hands, he placed the knife on Yaro’s bloodied chest.
42
ConDra’s Fire
DerTah
G erolyn opened her eyes to find the Dreelas od Trinuge seated by her side on a settee. Wolloh’s sitting room was quiet but for the sound of voices murmuring beyond the door.
TheLise felt for her pulse. “How are you?”
The soft timbre of the woman’s voice eased Gerolyn’s agitation. “What…oh…I fainted.” The vision of the man she had never stopped loving overwhelmed her. “Lorsedi?”
“He thought you might need time to recover. I’ll fetch him when you feel ready to see him.” The Dreelas shifted to the end of the settee.
Gerolyn eased herself to sitting and slowly brought her feet to the floor. Tucking a loose curl in place, she studied the woman next to her. “Nissasa did that to your face?”
“He has quite a temper when he doesn’t get what he wants.”
“I hope you managed some damage of your own.”
TheLise’s slow smile provided the answer. “Can I get you anything before I call Lorsedi?”
“Water, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“It just so happens that Stebben brought a pitcher.” She poured a glass and passed it to her.
Gerolyn sipped while she organized her thoughts. When she felt equipped to deal with the situation, she set the glass on the table and stood up, smoothing the wrinkles from her skirt. “At least the room is no longer spinning. I think I’m ready to see him. Thank you, TheLise.”
The woman gave her a studied look. “We are in the midst of a battle of wills, Gerolyn. Stay alert. If I can help, please don’t hesitate to ask.” She rested a hand on her arm. “Take care,” she said softly.
The murmuring outside paused with the opening of the door. Gerolyn touched the diamond at her throat. When Lorsedi entered the room, the concern on his face said it all. She held out her hands. He took them in his and held them to his heart. “You have recovered?”
She could only smile and nod.
He pulled her close and rested his cheek on the top of her head. “I never want to lose you again.”
Giving herself a moment to enjoy his presence, she relaxed. The awareness of his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest made blood rush to her face. “We have responsibilities, Lorsedi,” she murmured.
He held her at arm’s length. “You’re sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine. Seeing you after all this time…”
He brushed her lips with his. “I know. We’ll talk later. I suggest we take care of business first.” Another light kiss and he left her side to invite their cohorts to return.
Stebben waited outside the door. “Wolloh would like you to join him in the conference chamber.”
With mixed feelings, Gerolyn laid her hand on Lorsedi’s arm and glanced up at the erect, authoritative figure of the man she loved. I hope the decisions made here don’t put us on opposing sides. I am bound to act in accordance with Almiralyn’s wishes and what’s best for Myrrh. He smiled down at her. I can only do what I believe is right . She returned his smile before they hurried after Stebben.
Efillaeh lay dormant on Yaro’s chest—no green or amethyst mist—no change in Yaro. Brie could see Torgin’s fear building. Desirol’s expression showed only curiosity. Across from Ira, Esán knelt with his hands resting on the Pentharian’s arm. She sent him a telepathic message. “Mindeco? ”
“Still in the hidden chamber. Hurry .”
Forcing herself to concentrate, she considered the knife. Why isn’t it working? A fleeting image of Efillaeh positioned a different direction flashed through her mind. The Star of Truth sent a tingling sens
ation up her neck and over the crown of her head.
“Ira, place the knife crosswise with the point over the heart.” While she spoke, she pulled the velvet pouch from beneath her shirt and tipped the Stone of Remembering onto her palm. After placing it above Efillaeh on Yaro’s breastbone, she sat back to watch.
At the center of the stone, soft blue light began to glow. Like the wafting of mist above a lake at dawn, it floated over the bloodied body and gathered in an opaque cloud around the sacred knife. Rays of emerald light shot through the blue mist. Amethyst pools formed over each wound. Slow, methodical healing started on Yaro’s face and head. Lacerations on his shoulders and arms began to knit together. Healing on his brutalized chest progressed one wound at a time. Where tattered flesh smoothed into wholeness, Yaro’s tattoos reformed. Broken limbs trembled and straightened. The deep slash on his right thigh healed last, leaving the only visible scar. Color rushed back to his face. A deep rasping breath shook his body. The stone and the knife lay dormant once more.
Torgin leaned over the still face. “Yaro? Wake up. Yaro?” When his heart brother did not respond, he looked from one friend to the other. “Why isn’t he waking up? What did you do wrong?”
Ira handed Brie the Stone of Remembering and picked up Efillaeh. “We did what we know to do.”
Desirol reached for the knife. “Can I see it?”
“No.” Ira put it in the scabbard.
“Come on, Ira. Let me see. Just for a minute.” The RewFaaran reached across Yaro’s quiet body.
Ira scowled. “You hard of hearing? I said no.”
Desirol sprang to his feet. “I’m Lorsedi’s heir. I demand to see that knife.”
“Demand all you want, Des. I don’t care who your father is.”
Brie glared at Ira and then Desirol. “Stop it, you two. This isn’t the time to be fighting. We need to decide what to do for Yaro. The Mindeco isn’t going to stay trapped forever.”
The UnFolding Collection Two Page 34
