Almiralyn slipped the gift into her pocket and stepped into the alley. Allynae prepared to follow. A gnarled hand stopped him. He looked down at the ancient face. A series of pictures flitted through his mind. He clung to faint memories as he ran to catch up with his sister. When he reached the alley’s end, she was gone.
Almiralyn ducked under an awning, where the arrival of dawn had not yet erased the shadows of night. From the relative safety of her vantage point, she observed the awakening of the city and enjoyed the contrast to the quiet of mornings at the temple grounds. The hubbub of vehicles and Humans along with the colorful banners and flags hanging from every building created a festive atmosphere. She took a moment to orient herself to the cacophony of sounds and sights—to Gedosson’s tumultuous return to wakefulness.
Allynae’s absence penetrated her musings and sent her several quick steps back down the alley. Her glance darted toward the shoppe and came to rest on the back of a tall, blond man. With him were two men in the forest-green capes of Mocendi apprentices. Two long strides carried her back to the busy street. Merging into the crowd of bustling metropolans, she masked her thoughts and let her energy blend with those around her.
How did the Mocendi catch up with us so soon? Hope Thorlu hasn’t found Alli.
A figure detached itself from a dark stone archway and stepped beside her. “Thorlu and gang.” Allynae gave her a troubled smile.
Keeping her eye focused ahead, she clasped his hand. “Mask your mind. Don’t let go of me.”
Almiralyn allowed the crowd to dictate direction. The longer she and Alli remained within their midst the better. The jumbled thoughts of numerous people would make it more difficult for Thorlu and his companions to discover their whereabouts.
The stream of people began to dwindle as destinations were reached. A big, round man jostled past her, knocking Allynae’s hand free of her arm. She dodged. The man bumbled between her and her brother. A quick glance at the round, jowl-heavy face caught the gleam of lecherous appreciation in his bespectacled eyes. A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her out of his path. Alli led her along a serpentine trajectory until they stepped from view behind a life-sized sculpture of a Gedosson hero riding a dragonesque creature.
He jerked a thumb back the way they had come. “Didn’t like the look of that man. Now what?”
Almiralyn rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Back to Cryeb, I think. They won’t expect us to teleport closer to them.” She grinned.
The cityscape was replaced by a cell. At its center, Corvus waited, finger to lips. On a bench against the wall a twin of her mentor sat with his head in his hands. Allynae started to speak. Corvus shook his head and gripped Almiralyn’s arm. The cell vanished and the mouth of a cave yawned wide.
Corvus released her. “Keep your wards in place. This way.” He led them down a trail that took them to a chamber deep beneath the mountains. When he finally came to a stop, his wards shimmered into nothing. “This cave is protected. We can talk here without fear of discovery.”
Almiralyn released her wards. “How long will the dupligram last?”
“Until I dissolve it.”
Allynae frowned. “Won’t they know it isn’t real?”
“No, they won’t, because…” He faded and refocused. “The Corvus in the cell is real.”
“You mean we rescued a dupligram!”
The dimple in Corvus’ cheek etched deeper with the width of his grin.
Shaking his head, Allynae sank down on a large rock. “Da’am DiMensioners anyway.”
Almiralyn laughed, then grew serious. “How did they capture you, Corvus?”
Frustration lit his eyes. His dimple disappeared. “They were waiting at the portal destination point in DerTah. I didn’t have a chance. The minute I hit the ground, four men jump me and trussed me up like a dead animal. They teleported me to the cell. I chose to remain there rather than alert The MasTer to my true power.” The dimple returned. “I knew you’d find me, Mira.”
“You’re not hurt…”
“I’m fine. They wanted to use me as bait to catch you.”
Allynae glared from one to the other. “You’d think he—it—was the real thing. ” He glared at the dupligram.
Almiralyn exchanged a look of amusement with her mentor. He slapped Allynae on the back. “I am real until I re-assimilate, Alli. Let’s get down to business.” He brushed pebbles and sand off the top of a large rock and took a seat.
Almiralyn pulled Allynae down beside her. “What’s your plan, Corvus?”
“We have to rid KcernFensia of the Mocendi before they wreak havoc on RayTucans. It’s also vital that they lose track of you, Mira.”
She tugged at a wayward curl. “Which means we need to deal with Thorlu. He knows too much about the temple and the Council and me.” She came to her feet and began to pace back and forth, four steps, pivot and back. “I think better when I move,” she mumbled to no one in particular and continued her aimless pacing.
Allynae picked up a pebble and tossed it from one hand to the other. “This is one of those rare times when a push off a high cliff would do the trick. Too bad the man would just shift to a bird and fly to safety.” He lobbed the pebble in the air.
Almiralyn caught it and tossed it back before turning her attention to Corvus. “How do we neutralize Thorlu?”
“And what about The MasTer?” Allynae’s pebble hit the ground and rolled.
Corvus picked it up and studied it. “My father told me The MasTer works through the minds and memories of his minions. We must gain control of Thorlu long enough to pluck the memories of you and KcernFensia from his mind. Once he no longer remembers, The MasTer and the apprentices will also forget, at least for a time. I can help, but from the sidelines. The Mocendi must continue to think that I am merely a mentor and teacher.” He flipped the pebble into the air. It vanished.
Allynae cleared his throat. “If we’re erasing memories, can’t we remove any of you as well?”
Corvus shook his head. “Removing memories is a delicate process, one that can kill if done improperly. Thorlu’s death would create a situation that could end in war. We don’t want that, so the less we remove from his memories the better.”
“So what’s your plan, Corvus?” Allynae kept his voice devoid of expression.
The dupligram cocked his head to one side. Almiralyn caught a brief glimpse of Karrew in his features. Before he could speak, she said, “We need him to find me.”
Her brother jumped to his feet and strode to her side. “You mean be the bait. I can’t let you do that, Mira.”
“I believe her plan is the only way to trap him.” Corvus joined them. “You and I’ll be close at hand.”
“But you’re not—” Allynae sputtered, then shrugged. “How will he find you, Mira? The last time we saw him, he was in Gedosson.”
Almiralyn pursed her lips and nodded. “We go back to Gedosson. The MasTer wants me. Thorlu hasn’t given up on finding me. He can’t, or his existence will end and rather badly, I would guess.”
“Back to Gedosson,” Allynae muttered. “What if he tries to force himself on you? What if―”
She hugged him. “I’ll have to improvise. Two things are certain—Thorlu will not get his way with me, nor will he make me his prisoner.”
Concern flitted across Corvus’ face. “Don’t under estimate the man, Mira. I did, and I got caught.”
After Almiralyn, Allynae, and his dupligram departed, Corvus continued to sit on the bench in his cell with his head in his hands. He had used a subtle mind probe to scan his surroundings. The abandoned mine shaft where he was imprisoned was near the western end of Cryeb Canyon. One tunnel led to the exit—one long tunnel secured by The MasTer’s Elite Guard. The fact that Almiralyn and Allynae had reached him undetected spoke volumes for their combined power and his. He smiled grimly. The assumption by his captors that he was a man with no mystical talents was a blessing. Because of it, he had been able to help Allynae teleport Almiralyn to
Gedosson. Inattention had also allowed him to build his double.
His ability to create a dupligram came from his ancestral heritage, not from his training as a DiMensioner. Few Roahymnians possessed the talent and fewer still had attempted to use it. A dupligram was an exact copy of its creator. It moved, spoke, and responded like its maker. Only he could create a dupligram of himself, and only he could end its existence. He’d made this one so he could be in two places at once. It was vital that The MasTer believe he, Corvus, remained his prisoner, a bargaining chip for which Almiralyn would give up her freedom.
The dupligram provided a means for him to keep track of his charge and her brother. He would not hesitate to use it, if necessary, to end Thorlu’s life. The fact that using it to channel his power could end his life as well mattered little. He had sworn to protect Myrrh’s future Guardian. He would keep that promise no matter the cost.
A flurry of activity toward the entrance of the mining shaft claimed his attention. Booted feet pounded his direction. Thorlu marched into view. Two guards came to a smart stop behind him.
“Where is Almiralyn?” Thorlu’s mood, menacing and fueled by anger, broke through the controlled question.
Corvus lifted his head from his hands and glanced up at the angry Mocendi. “How on KcernFensia would I know? I’m locked in a cage, or hadn’t you noticed?”
“You are more than you seem, Corvus Castilym. Tell me where to find her.”
“I am a teacher and mentor appointed to instruct Almiralyn. What you see is what I am.”
Thorlu threw a noxious look his direction, pivoted, and marched away, the purple lining of his black cape glinting in the weak light of lanterns placed equidistant along the tunnel.
Corvus schooled his thoughts to those of a frustrated man, imprisoned against his will. Within a short period of time, Thorlu flashed into view outside the bars of his cage. His eyes held a triumphant glow.
“I am off to meet with Almiralyn. She would like to discuss your release. I, of course, will bring her here. The MasTer is most impatient to see you both in TreBlaya.”
“Where are you meeting her?” Corvus gripped the bars, desperation dripping from his words.
Thorlu threw back his head and laughed. “Ah, Corvus, you are such a dissembler.” He brought his gaze level with his. “I’m not playing your game.” In a swirl of purple, he vanished.
Corvus returned to his seat, leaned against the rough wall, and smiled.
The Steldom Esplanade, a beautifully designed garden in the middle of Gedosson, provided the city’s metropolans with a respite from the bustle of urban life. Beautifully manicured walkways meandered through play parks for children and assemblage areas for large groups, past secluded nooks and crannies, and around several perfectly situated ponds connected by small, bubbling streams.
Almiralyn selected an unfrequented area with a small pond surrounded by a stand of tall, drooping willow trees, where Corvus’ dupligram and Allynae could secret themselves. Only one path led to the clearing. She had sent Thorlu a telepathic message that she would be there at the sun’s zenith, straight up thirteen chron circles. It was half plus a quarter beyond twelve. She expected him to arrive early, hoping to take her by surprise. Shielding her thoughts and her whereabouts, she observed the clearing from a well-camouflaged hiding place behind a bush with a plethora of lavender flowers.
Furtive footsteps announced the approach of three people. Keeping her mind clear, she waited. The steps ceased. One man continued. Thorlu strode into the clearing, stopped dead center, and rotated, his eyes taking in every detail. He walked to the edge of the pool and stared down at his reflection. Behind her, she heard an almost silent thud.
“One down.”
Allynae’s telepathic message gave her a moment’s relief. Thorlu’s pivot to peer in her direction destroyed it and reminded her to maintain her focus. His next move brought all her warrior instincts rushing to the surface.
With the nonchalance of someone admiring the scenery, he strolled her direction, picked a lavender flower, and sniffed the sweetness of it before crushing it in strong fingers. Returning to the pond, he tossed the mutilated petals onto the water’s surface. “I will crush you, Almiralyn Nadrugia, until every cell in your body screams for relief. First, you will be mine. When I am done, you belong to The MasTer.”
A spasm wracked his body and sent him to his knees. Gasping for breath, he clutched his chest. A gurgle of distress spilled from his mouth into the cool afternoon air. The pond roiled and bubbled. Angry waves slapped the shore. Thorlu stared at the surface.
Almiralyn closed her eyes. Like an observer in a theatre, she watched images flash over the water—dark folds hanging over a half hidden face—a small, pale tongue flicking pale lips—shadows dancing a twisted tango over a pit with no bottom—sparks raining from a blackened sky. Her eyes snapped open and fastened on her adversary.
Thorlu pressed a hand to his heart. “My manhood spoke out of turn, my MasTer. Forgive my momentary need to claim her. The Guardian of Myrrh is yours first and always. My only desire is to please you, to bring her to kneel at your feet.” He lowered his head in supplication.
Steam hissed above the pond. As though thrown by an unseen hand, Thorlu flew forward and landed flat on his belly, his arms outstretched. Scalding mist floated above him. Sweat streamed from his scalp onto his face. A charred hand reached from the water. Ember-incrusted fingers slid along his scalp. The aroma of burning hair scented the clearing.
A dry, throaty voice whispered, “You are forgiven, my son. Bring her to me, and your reward will be—” Cackled laughter spewed blood across the pond. “Your life.”
As suddenly as the images had appeared, they vanished. Blue sky once again reflected its color in the small pond. Silent wildlife began to stir. A small rodent scurried through the underbrush. A bird took flight, a juicy insect squirming in its beak.
Almiralyn’s skin crawled with distaste, with loathing, with repugnance. Thorlu climbed to his feet, straightened, and dusted off his crumpled clothing. He ran a hand through his singed hair. A puff of smoke engulfed him and waned. All damage rendered by The MasTer disappeared, and he stood at the pond’s edge as he had prior to its becoming a scrying pool.
“You don’t have to go through with this.” Corvus’ telepathic voice was urgent. “I can take care of Thorlu.”
Resolve flooded through her. “Thorlu is mine. Let us begin our dance.” Taking a breath, she stepped onto the path. Purpose concealed her desire to be elsewhere. She walked into the clearing and paused, her expression a deceptively pleasant mask, her thoughts focused on Corvus’ release.
Thorlu’s ingenuous smile made her want to slap him. The thought of what would occur if she managed him well held her hand at her side. “Thorlu, thank you for coming.”
“Almiralyn, how could I not attend you when your message was so…” He stepped closer. “Distraught. You realize, of course, that I cannot—will not—release Corvus unless you surrender to me?”
The needle sharp sting of a mental probe narrowed her eyes. “Stay out of my mind, Thorlu, or give me permission to examine yours.”
A caustic sneer curled his upper lip. “What makes you think you can penetrate my mental wards? You who refused initiation into the Order of Esprow?”
“We are here to discuss the release of Corvus. Nothing else need concern you. What can I give you in exchange?”
Two long strides brought him face to face with her, his DiMensioner’s cape brushing her legs. He caught her in an embrace that pinned her arms to her sides. “The MasTer is eager for you to be his guest in TreBlaya. Only the acceptance of his invitation will bring about the desired release of your mentor.” He kissed her roughly. “You are quite luscious, you know.” He held her tighter. “I can see why The MasTer is so eager to have you for his own. Laughter shook his chest only to die a moment later when she flashed from his embrace to the opposite side of the clearing.
“And then you have us both. We —
you and I—will settle this here. If I win, you release Corvus into my keeping. If you win, I will go with you.”
Laughter shook his shoulders. “Are you suggesting that we fight?”
A cool smile preceded her reply. “Are you afraid you will be deprived of your prize?”
“I don’t fight with women. I conquer them in a much more rewarding way.” His eyes roamed her body.
Distaste soured her mouth. She ignored it and kept her gaze fastened on Thorlu’s smug face. “Then you will need to explain to The MasTer why both Corvus and I slipped through your fingers.”
Pivoting, she walked away. The swish of heavy fabric and the bass snap of it flung into the air made her turn. Thorlu’s cape whirled toward her. She ducked aside, used telekinesis to arrest the black cape’s flight, and sent it soaring over the pond. Thorlu tried to regain control. His fumbled attempt gave her an opening. She released her hold. The cape hit the water with a dull splash. He rounded on her, his features twisted by fury.
Her cold, sapphire eyes flashed. “I’m glad to see you’ve changed your mind.”
One instant an angry Human male snarled at her, the next the bared fangs of a dappled wolf gleamed in the afternoon sun. Thorlu’s shifted form circled, its tail between its legs, its ears flattened against its head. A growl rumbled. It leapt. Open jaws closed on nothing. Scrambling to regain solid footing, Thorlu reappeared, loathing in his eyes.
The total concentration of her trimala training directed her every move. He charged. She held her position until the last second. The quick thrust of an elbow directed him away from her. He stumbled to his knees. A howl of frustration sliced the intense silence in the clearing. He sprang to his feet and faced her.
“I told you I don’t fight woman,” he panted. “But…” He took a threatening step. “I, too, have trained in trimala.”
The UnFolding Collection Two Page 67
