The UnFolding Collection Two

by S. K. Randolph

  He looked to Voer for an explanation that would bring the extraordinary vista down to an understandable level. The Pentharian merely smiled and put a hand on his arm. Together they repeated the sacred words Voer had taught him prior to descending the steep staircase. A flash of light, air brushing his cheek, the scent of early spring, and they arrived on another platform where slender tendrils trembled above them. A third platform gave him a glimpse of geometric patterns composed of amethyst, citron, ruby, and minerals of every sort. At last they arrived at the bottom of a stone staircase.

  As the wonder of the Intersect had washed over him, the burning fear that gripped him eased. During the time it took them to reach the top stair and walk the distance to Meos, it returned with a vengeance. When they arrived at the central square, where creatures with white fur and luminous, light blue eyes watched him pass, his growing sense of panic almost overwhelmed him. How many more surprises will challenge all I’ve been taught? And how on Thera am I ever going to find my son?

  Almiralyn left the Hall of Priestesses, traversed the Cave of Canedari, and flew through the Cavern of Tennisca. It was a short flight, but one that she savored. From the top of the Stairway of Retu Erath, she teleported to the tunnel leading into Meos and arrived at the Central Square to find Zugo waiting.

  “Father asked me to meet you and bring you directly to him. Voer is here…and Torgin’s father.”

  The significance of the latter made her increase her pace. Zugo knocked at the double wooden doors to Yookotay’s chambers. A young female with one green eye and one blue answered.

  Almiralyn smiled. “It is good to see you, Elae. The last time we met, you were still recuperating from your unexpected trip to Nevah Efas. You look well.”

  “I’m fully recovered, my lady, and ready to help in any way I can. The ReDael,” she said, pronouncing Yookotay’s title with reverence and respect, “is in the room adjacent to the council chamber. Zugo and I will wait here in case you need us.”

  “I’m going with Almiralyn.” Zugo lifted his chin in a gesture of defiance.

  Yookotay opened the door and stuck his head out. “You will remain on guard with Elae until we call you. Don’t go wandering off.”

  “I do have a job for them, Yookotay, if it meets with your approval,” Almiralyn said.

  The ReDael joined them. “How can they help?”

  “I need them to go to Veersuni and watch over Elcaro’s Eye.” She spoke to Zugo and Elae. “If the fountain shows anything we need to know, one of you must hurry back here. Please keep a chronology of what you see in a journal, so you can bring me up to date when I come to work with the fountain. This is very important. I can’t be everywhere at once.”

  Yookotay nodded his approval.

  Elae linked arms with Zugo. “We’ll go now.”

  “We won’t disappoint you,” Zugo called over his shoulder.

  Almiralyn smiled. “Zugo is having a hard time not bolting for DerTah. Hopefully, Elcaro’s Eye will keep him occupied. He mentioned that Torgin’s father is here?”

  “And Voer with news from the RewFaaran Tinpaca. Torgin’s father will speak only to you. Voer will join us when you’re ready. Things move quickly, my lady.” He ushered her into the room and withdrew.

  Standing with his back to the room was a tall man in the elegantly tailored uniform of a top PPP official. His close-cropped black hair accentuated the shape of his head and the powerful muscles of his neck. When he turned, expectation lit his dark eyes. At the sight of her, it dulled. Understanding made her shift to the form of Mira, the older, more comfortable woman who welcomed the children of Idronatti to Myrrh.

  “Hello, Wilith. It has been a very long time since we last met.”

  The strong, ebony features showed a broad sweep of emotions—astonishment when she shifted, relief, the happy memories of a small boy, sadness, and fear—fear that ran so deep it left him drained of speech.

  She sank onto a chair and tucked a lock of gray hair into her bun. “Please sit. Tell me what has brought you to Myrrh.”

  “M-m-mira, I thought you weren’t real. Even after they expunged my memories in preparation for my career, I would dream of you. I never expected to be sitting opposite you. Not even when my memories began to return.” He sat down and massaged his forehead. When he looked up, he had regained his equilibrium. “I came to deliver a message to Almiralyn, The Guardian of Myrrh,” he said formally.

  She shifted form and let his mind readjust to her slender, blonde beauty. When he nodded, she answered in kind, “I am pleased to receive you, Wilith Whalend, official of the Peoples Plan Protectors. What is the message?”

  48

  ConDra’s Fire

  DerTah

  A t the Nesune Ruins, Corvus and Desirol plunged feet first through darkness as sticky and thick as black molasses. The Abyss of the Dead embraced them, caressed their skin, and burned their eyes until tears streamed down their cheeks. Invisible fingers stroked their hair and tugged at their clothing. Like a siren’s song, their names rang out over and over again.

  The deeper we go , thought Corvus, the better our chances of teleporting without leaving a trail. Deeper also means greater danger . A shield of protection sprung up around them. Before he could seal it, Desirol’s panicked struggle destroyed his concentration. The shield shimmered into nothing.

  He pulled Desirol around to face him. “Surviving the abyss is possible,” he whispered close to his ear. “Navigating its dangers is the key. I can get us out of here, but I need your help.”

  “W-w-hat?” Desirol said through chattering teeth. Terror quacking through his body sent a circle of tiny wavelets into the syrupy darkness.

  “Don’t let go of me, and don’t look anything in the eye. The dead can’t harm you if you don’t see them.” Sour darkness lathered his tongue. He sucked saliva into his mouth and spit. “Don’t swallow the darkness. Hold onto the belt of my kcalo.” Again, he spit. White and spider-like, the foulness floated beside them.

  Desirol gripped his belt. “H-h-hurry, C-cor—” He choked and tightened his hold.

  Freed to direct their course, Corvus pressed his hands against the blackness as though sculling a small boat through water. Gradually, he gained control of their downward drift. Syrupy nothingness undulated around them. Distorted faces flashed into view. Corvus dropped his eyes and prayed that Desirol remembered his instructions.

  A distant sploosh sent a tremor quaking through the abyss. Creatures, dulled and without the luster of life, began to gather in the rush of current preceding the Mindeco’s descent. Vacant eyes drifted around them. Their chanted names grew louder and louder.

  The sudden pressure of Desirol’s arms around his neck, strangled the air from Corvus’ lungs. Grabbing the boy’s wrists to alleviate the pressure on his larynx, he forced himself to breathe through his nose, one small breath at a time. A choked sob, a smothered moan… Sagging weight tore at his arms. Adrenaline pumped through him. He hauled Desirol’s limp body forward until his armpits rested on his shoulders. Caught in the sloshing aftermath of the struggle to regain control, he floundered with the unconscious boy in the thick intensity of the abyss.

  Above them, the Mindeco’s torpedoed-weight hurtled rapidly downward. The darkness responded to its progress like water to a plunging stone. Around them, the dead gathered. Their chanting quieted to a whispered whoosh. Their collective presence chilled the darkness. Corvus felt gooseflesh rush over his body. Frost began to form on his exposed skin. Time was running out. The only way to save Desirol and himself was to teleport.

  The sipping of water and the chewing of food were the only sounds that could be heard in Wolloh’s hidden room. After the adults had departed, Stebben returned with a hot meal, their first since the celebration at Eissua Oasis. Ira stuffed his fourth piece of roasted zeegell in his mouth. Stebben told them a zeegell was a type of deer. Ira didn’t care what it was. It was food, and it was good.

  Across from him, Brie nibbled at her meal. She h
ad been distracted and quiet since the adults departed. He was glad they were gone. Nomed inspired a deep anger in him that exhibited itself in snide comments and bitter asides. His friends had banished him to a corner. He took a bite of something that looked like a vegetable and chewed it with relish. Wolloh. Now there’s one strange guy. Sure hope I don’t have to deal with him much. Another mouthful of zeegell sent juice dribbling from the side of his mouth. He mopped it up with a napkin and stuffed in another piece.

  For some unknown reason, Gerolyn fascinated him. He envied Brie’s immediate closeness to her. Wish she were my grandmother . Brie caught his eye and smiled. Is she reading my mind? He gave her a belligerent stare. She looked down at her plate and shoved her food into small piles.

  We will be meeting the Largeen Joram later. That will be interesting. Brie’s grandfather sounded pretty dreadful back on Myrrh. But then things have changed…changed a lot since then.

  Esán shot a smile his direction. “You over your grump, Ira? Come join us.”

  “I like my corner. No one’s picking on me here.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Stebben appeared, carrying a plate piled high with sweet-smelling pastries. “Our cook made these especially for you. They’re a rare treat…taccus berry and steerro fruit sweetened with DerTahan honey. The berries and fruit only ripen together once each sun cycle. I think you’ll find them not only delectable, but energizing. When you’re done, pull the bell cord, and I’ll return to clear the table.”

  “When do we meet Lorsedi?” Ira shaped the question around a mouthful of meat.

  “That is up to the High DiMensioner.”

  Brie stirred her food with her fork. “Any word on Corvus and Desirol?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.” He looked from her plate to her face. “Perhaps, Brielle, you should eat your meal. I believe you might feel better.”

  “Who said you could call her Brielle?” Ira snapped, rubbing the tip of his forefinger against his pant leg.

  Wolloh flashed into the room, his distorted profile to him, his smooth side to his Major Domo. “I will manage things here, Stebben. Please alert Lorsedi that we will be needing him soon.”

  Stebben bowed and vanished.

  Ira squirmed under the High DiMensioner’s penetrating gaze and wondered how a sightless eye could make him so uncomfortable. “What’re you looking at?”

  Wolloh’s good hand rested on his shoulder. Before Ira could brush it aside, he found himself facing the High DiMensioner in a cozy room with comfortable looking chairs on either side of a rustic stone fireplace. The tiled floors were covered with woven rugs in warm browns and russet. A bookcase, a rosewood table and chairs, a love seat by a windowed alcove all made the room welcoming.

  Easing his crippled body into one of the chairs, Wolloh relaxed back and observed him with a slight smile. “I thought you might need a moment to yourself. Please have a seat.”

  “Who asked you for…” Ira bit his tongue, sat down, and massaged his fingertip.

  Wolloh lifted a hand. A tingling sensation ran through Ira’s body.

  The High DiMensioner smiled. “Welcome to Shu Chenaro.”

  “Oh my!” Ari wrinkled her brow. “Do I know you?” She frowned. “Of course I do. You’re Nomed’s mentor. He slapped me, you know.”

  “I think you will find him changed, Arienh. How do you feel?”

  “Confused.” She traced a figure eight on the arm of the chair with a very feminine finger. “How did you know?”

  With the two aspects of his face turned purposely toward her, he touched the disfigured cheek and rubbed the arch of his feather-like brow. “I understand the intricacies of shifting better than most. WoNa did you a major favor. Are you feeling calmer?”

  “I am. But I have to maintain my disguise, don’t I?”

  “You do, I’m afraid.”

  Sighing she nestled back in the softness of her chair. “I really want to know my grandmother.”

  “She knows you, even as Ira.”

  She adjusted her angle to peer more closely at him. “She does?”

  He nodded.

  “Will my grandfather know?”

  “He would not have known—but because Nomed told him about his twin granddaughters, I have explained the reason for your disguise and why you must continue to maintain it. I believe you will like him, Ari. And as Ira, he will find you most interesting.”

  She pursed her lips and clasped her hands together in her lap. For a moment, the bagginess of her clothing made her want to giggle. Sobering, she said from the depths of her chair. “It’s time, isn’t it?”

  Wolloh stroked the crystal knob of his cane.

  Ira opened his eyes and glanced at the man across from him. Taking time to get his bearings, he placed the palms of his hands together and rested his chin on the tips of his fingers. An exhaled breath restored his sense of place.

  “Thank you for bringing me here, sir. I feel much calmer. I don’t know why I get so grumpy.”

  “Sometimes a few moments alone make all the difference. Are you ready to return to your friends?”

  Ira stood up. “I am. Sure hope they didn’t eat all the pastries.”

  Wolloh angled his uninjured side to Ira. “I’m sure they saved you a couple.” He tapped his cane on the tile. The click, click faded.

  Ira laughed at the expressions on his friends’ faces. “Wow! Got here by myself.” He eyed the dessert plate where three pastries waited, picked one up, and took a huge bite. “Darn good,” he said through the tangy sweetness of fruit and honey.

  Alone for the moment at least, Wolloh focused his attention on the predicament of the Atrilaasu Oracle. WoNa had been his ally since his arrival in DerTah. She had been his mentor and he, hers. Of all the women he had met in his travels across the Inner Universe, WoNadahem Mardree was the one who held claim to his total allegiance and respect.

  Allowing his eyes to close and his breathing to slow, he slipped into a meditative state and began a systematic search of Fera Finnero. A small group of Nissasa’s troops gathered at Nesune. A larger group waited near the borders of Shu Chenaro. Dahe and his men wavered into focus. Wolloh gripped the arms of the chair. He focused his power to hold the vision steady. Someone fought to tear it from his grasp. Nissasa’s sneering face shimmered like a mirage and melted away, but not before Wolloh glimpsed WoNa lying on the ground behind him, the Oracle Stone missing from her forehead.

  Wolloh roused himself from thoughts of WoNa as Lorsedi strode into the study, energy bristling around him. “My men are in place and scouts have been sent out. I expect word at anytime as to the whereabouts of Nissasa’s troops.” Seemingly unaware of the vagueness in Wolloh’s expression, he continued, “There are times, Wolloh, when I wish I had your gift for shape shifting. It would be much more efficient to fly over the enemy than to creep around on horseback.”

  Wolloh relaxed his grip on the chair. “Nissasa has divided his troops, Lorsedi. Some are at Nesune Ruins, some at the border between Fera Finnero and my land. Nissasa himself is with the Sebborr.”

  Lorsedi shook his head and sank into the opposite chair. “Why I didn’t think to ask you…” His voice trailed off. He sat upright. “Desirol?”

  “I wasn’t looking for your son. WoNa is my priority.”

  “And Desirol is mine. Can you do what it is that you do and find him?”

  Tempted to deny the request, Wolloh remained thoughtful. He required the cooperation of this man, so he closed his eyes. The instant he slipped into a trance state, a dark, shadowy form reached for his throat. He dodged and sent a shield slamming into place around him. The menacing figure formed a zigzag of light and hurled it his direction, wind in its wake and rain pelting after it. Wolloh sent out a call for assistance. A hand gripped his arm. Energy infused his body. With a wave of his hand, he doubled the power of the attack and deflected it back to its sender. It hit the shadowed form, shattering it and tossing its pieces on the wind.

  When he opened hi
s eyes, Nomed bent over him.

  “Thank you, Seyes. I was unprepared for the strength behind the attack.”

  Lorsedi moved into view, his freckles three dimensional on a face filled with concern. “Who attacked?”

  “Nissasa. But with far more power than he possessed when he arrived at Shu Chenaro.” Wolloh held his gaze. “Did you know, Lorsedi, that he has been trained as a DiMensioner?”

  “A DiMensioner?” He sank onto a chair. “I did not. Who trained him?” His tone verged on accusatory.

  “The Mocendi League, my friend. Roween made the contact and the arrangements.”

  “I should have guessed. She is a viper, Wolloh, one that I intend to eliminate. What has increased Nissasa’s power?”

  Wolloh reached for his cane. Stabilizing it between his feet, he waved a hand above it. White light flew from the crystal knob, scattering pastel rainbows over the walls, ceiling, and floor. The light softened. An image of a teardrop shaped crystal on a beaded headband came into focus. A hand snatched it from view, leaving Wolloh’s crystal empty of light.

  Nomed paled. “Nissasa has stolen the Oracle Stone. That means he can access Elcaro’s Eye. We have to warn Almiralyn.”

  Wolloh squeezed the bridge of his nose. “And we can’t use my crystal.” He leveraged his tired body from the chair. “Which means, you and Gerolyn must go to Myrrh and warn her. Nissasa will also know where the Compass of Ostradio is as well as Efillaeh. The children are not safe here.”

  Lorsedi cleared his throat. “I certainly hope Corvus has managed to spirit Desirol out of his reach, or my oldest son will hold all the best cards in the deck.”

  Allynae awakened in the dark with a resounding headache. His forehead rested on his bent knees. He realized with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that his head was covered with some kind of bag. And his feet were bare. When he tried to move his arms, he found that his hands were tied to his ankles. He was trussed up like a turkey ready for the oven.