The UnFolding Collection Two

by S. K. Randolph

  She blinked. The canvas filled her sight. A vague image formed in her mind. Wrinkling her brow in concentration, she painted a wide swath of pale gray diagonally across the stark white.

  Sometime later the sound of footsteps pulled her from what she called her artist’s daze—that place where her surroundings faded and only her canvas and her art existed. Pleased that she had completed the painting, she glanced over her shoulder. Myrrh’s Guardian stood behind her, sapphire eyes glued to the image. Sparrow dropped her brush in a jar of cleanser and stepped back to examine her work.

  Menacing darkness covered the canvas. A single ray of light shot through a hole overhead and pooled around a lone raven on a makeshift perch. Hazy, hate-filled faces gathered around it, their empty eyes staring into the distance. Nothing else could be seen. No hint of place emerged from the dark background.

  Sparrow couldn’t hide her disappointment. “I tried to discover where he is being held. I’m sorry.”

  Almiralyn put an arm around her. “It gives me hope, Sparrow. At least he’s no longer in a cage. Did you sense wards of any kind?”

  Sparrow cast her mind back to her trance-like state. “No, but I might not remember if I did.”

  “But you would have painted them had they been there.” It was a quiet statement. “And people?”

  “Only ghosts.” She shivered. “So much anger and sadness—and violence.”

  Nomed ushered Merrilea into the studio in front of him. She hurried forward. “Seyes said you needed us, Mira.”

  Nomed tapped his temple. “Got your message.”

  Almiralyn smiled. “Thank you for coming. Please take a look at Sparrow’s latest painting.”

  Merrilea looked from the canvas to Sparrow. “Where on Myrrh is that?”

  “I’d wager it isn’t anywhere on Myrrh.” A thoughtful frown stretched Nomed’s lip taut.

  Almiralyn turned back to the painting. “If you were to guess…”

  “I would guess a deserted prison in the Toelachoc Mountains near the Fortress of LeCur. It once housed the most violent criminals on DerTah.”

  Sparrow grasped Merrilea’s hand. “Fortress of LeCur?”

  Nomed smiled. “The capital of Fera Finnero, the home of the Dreela Gidtuss.”

  Sparrow gave him a speculative look. “I wonder if I’ll ever see DerTah…and my family?”

  Almiralyn gazed at the painting, her thoughts racing. Can this mean Karrew has escaped? “But, Seyes, Karrew was with Nissasa at the desert border when we saw him in the fountain. How would he have gotten to LeCur?”

  He shrugged. “We could ask Elcaro’s Eye.”

  A hatless Henrietta joined them, her eyes magnified by large spectacles. “Or you could leave for DerTah and discover the way of it. Standing around theorizing will not provide an answer.” She shooed Sparrow, Merrilea, and Nomed out the entryway. “Off you go. I need to speak with my niece. We’ll meet you at the portal.”

  When they had gone, Almiralyn smiled at her. “You’re sure you’re ready for this?”

  “I’m ready for a new adventure, Mira. Life in Idronatti…” She dropped her spectacles in a pocket and grimaced. “Dreary to say the very least. Had I been able to spend time with Sparrow and the twins—now that would have been a different matter.”

  “You would have—”

  “Your instincts were right, Mira. I would have been watched too closely to move about freely. Do you have any last minute instructions?”

  “I’ve spoken with Relevart. He has a plan in place that he’ll share when he can. Take care of yourself, Aunt Henri.”

  Henrietta patted her pocket. “I will. You do the same. We better make this happen, my dear.”

  They linked arms and stepped into the tunnel, leaving the studio and the painting of the lone raven behind.

  6

  Master’s Reach (Sample)

  DerTah

  S everal turnings had passed since Karrew regained consciousness in the dark and volatile dungeon. The ghosts of the criminally insane hissed the name of the prison like a mantra, flailed him with their lurid remembrances, and whispered foul-mouthed curses in his ears. “Toelachoc…Toelachoc…Toelachoc Prison.” They tormented him non-stop during his waking hours and haunted his dreams when he slept. Had he been stronger, he would have set a ward. Capture and subsequent abuse at Nissasa’s hand had left him far too weak to attempt it.

  A ghost rushed at him, blew a frigid breath that settled around him like a mist, and puffed into nothing. He ruffled his feathers to ward off the chill and in the hopes of holding the heat of the desert turning for a bit longer. When cold penetrated to his skin, his injuries ached with an agonizing fierceness that left him exhausted.

  The tread of soft footfalls propelled him into a corner beneath the metal cot. The cell door creaked open. A figure knelt by his perch. A candle sprung to life, casting its weak light in a small, wavering circle.

  Words as soft as a lullaby call to him. “Karrew. Come out. Let me examine your wing.”

  He stuck his head from beneath the cot and peered up at the man who had rescued him. The feeble light painted shadows across his features, leaving his identity a mystery. Karrew waddled toward him. Each step sent pain cutting into his breast.

  The man sat down on the cot and dangled a hand near his feathered side. He tapped it with the tip of his beak, giving permission to be lifted.

  Once settled on the man’s lap, gentle fingers examined his damaged wing. Ointment was applied and the wing rewrapped. A sweet smelling salve soothed the burns on his breast. As the pain eased, he studied what he could see of the man’s face. He appeared younger than Allynae by several sun cycles. His dark, wavy hair glinted with touches of auburn, his teeth were even and white. When candlelight found its way into his eyes, the sadness residing there made Karrew ache for him.

  The man stroked his back. “I’m sorry your wing is taking so long to heal. I know you must shift soon. Be patient, my friend.”

  Karrew’s heart skipped a beat at the man’s words. His ebony eye searched the shadowed face.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t tell your secret. No one has guessed that you are more than you seem…not even Nissasa Rattori.” He spit the name from his mouth like some foul thing. A look of disgust twisted his profile before he continued. “My father and I must return to the RewFaaran Sajud soon. So far he has not guessed that we took you from his tent.” He bent closer. “My father would never suspect me of stealing you, of going against his wishes. After all, he reminds me often, I owe him my life.” He straightened. “He has charged me with finding the culprit who absconded with you.”

  Karrew looked at his wing.

  “I put a new ointment on it. If you will allow me to, I will do a healing ritual to help speed your recovery.” He removed a small pouch from beneath his kcalo and shook several stones onto his palm.

  Karrew nudged them with his beak. The man tossed them into the candle lit circle, picked up one that gleamed different shades of green, and held it to the wing.

  “Healing stone please do your best

  To repair this wing and heal this breast

  Quicken mending, make all right

  Help this raven regain its flight.”

  The whispered rhyme sent a prickling sensation over Karrew’s wing and onto his wounded breast. With the final word it ceased, and the man set him on the perch.

  “If you have need of me, Karrew, just think of me. I will come to you as soon as I’m able. My father and I leave for the border tomorrow.” Scooping up the stones, he returned them to their pouch, secured it beneath his robes, and pulled out a small jar. After loosening the lid, he placed it on the ground.

  “This is the salve. I have brought extra food. You must shift soon, my friend.” He gently touched his breast. “I’m afraid your white feather is gone. Nissasa burned it away. I’m sorry.” He blew out the candle. “Take care, Karrew, protector of Almiralyn.”

  He repositioned his hood, and leaving the cell door aja
r, vanished like the ghosts of Toelachoc Prison.

  Stebben sat in a comfortable chair, his feet on a footstool, his lap covered with a blanket. Ever since he had grasped the crystal knob of Wolloh’s cane, he had been unable to shake the feeling that death clung to his bones.

  Allynae sat near him, his head resting in his hands. Occasionally, he glanced up at Wolloh’s bedroom door, then lowered his head once more. He glanced up now and cleared his throat. “What are they doing in there?”

  Tucking the blanket tighter, Stebben turned his gaze toward his mentor’s room. “I think that depends on what Relevart and One Man discover.”

  Allynae cracked his knuckles, one after the other. The sharp sound reminded Stebben of fire snapping the tendons in his hands. He grimaced.

  Allynae caught his eye and dropped his hands to his lap. “Sorry.” He intertwined his fingers. “A nasty habit from boyhood that resurfaces when I’m stressed. I never expected to meet the VarTerel of the Inner Universe. Of course, I didn’t anticipate the arrival of the DiMensioner in Myrrh either. Always thought life would be quiet and uneventful. Maybe didn’t think it—hoped is more like it. The Unfolding is certainly wreaking havoc with our lives.” Another knuckle cracked.

  Stebben repositioned his exhausted body, grateful that fatigue was all he had to deal with. It could have been worse—like death. Nissasa had meant to kill him. He knew that as clearly as he knew his own name. Relevart’s unannounced arrival had saved him.

  He thought back to that time when he was twelve sun cycles, to the time his parents had been murdered. He remembered the intergalactic ship where he and his younger sister had been imprisoned. Chyneria had been taken to LaTenge Famele, the women’s household on RewFaar. Relevart, whom he had known as Reader, had rescued him. He owed the man. He felt certain the opportunity to repay his debt would arise sooner than later.

  One Man stepped into the sitting room. “Wolloh’s resting and comfortable. Relevart suggests we take a break. He seems to think life will get busy fairly soon. I agree. Gerolyn just sent a message from Lorsedi.”

  Allynae rubbed his palms together and flexed his fingers. “And the message is?”

  “Nissasa is on a rampage.” One Man’s brow furrowed. “Something he values has been taken from his tent.”

  Stebben didn’t try to hide a satisfied smile. “That’s what happens when you hang out with scoundrels.”

  “There’s more. The Oracles Stone has been infused with the ConDra’s fire.”

  Surprise lit Allynae’s gray-blue eyes. “How’d Gerolyn find that out?”

  One Man pulled up a chair. “I gather that while Nissasa pitched his temper tantrum, she did a bit of mental snooping. That’s about it. The wards are holding. Lorsedi’s men are getting restless. Waiting is always the hardest part.”

  Stebben stared at his unblemished palm, felt the fire that had stripped it of skin and flesh, and rubbed its healed surface with the tip of a finger. Thank Ecorus for Relevart . “I think it was the ConDra’s fire that burned my hand. If so, the Oracle Stone can focus it through all the crystals mined from the Evolsefil caverns. We should warn Almiralyn.”

  A voice from the doorway entered the conversation. “I have already warned her.” Relevart closed the door softly and pulled a chair into their circle. Eyes deep with the wisdom of the ages traveled to each man’s face. A nerve twitched at the corner of Allynae’s eye. One Man’s expression relaxed. Stebben felt death fall away from his bones. At last, he sensed life creeping back into his body.

  “Thanks, Relevart. I never expected to be warm again. How is Wolloh? What’s next?”

  The tall man rearranged his rangy body on the chair and stared into the distance. Raising a hand, he whispered a strange syllable and snapped his fingers. A rowan staff appeared in his grasp. He leaned it against his thigh and once again looked from man to man.

  “We have much to accomplish, and it must be done before the Mocendi League discover that I have left the planet of Persow.”

  “Can’t you heal Wolloh?” Allynae asked.

  “Unfortunately, only the sacred knife can heal the High DiMensioner.” His eyes held Allynae’s.

  Allynae frowned. “Ari has Efillaeh, and we don’t know where she is.”

  A sudden chill gripped the circle of men. Stebben pulled the blanket tighter as cold once more skittered over his bones.

  Far from Shu Chenaro in the Tinga Forest, Brie huddled beside her friends in the hollow of a huge, dead tree. The rain had ceased, and steam wafted like mist from the ground and trees. Her empty stomach rumbled. She pressed her hand against it to silence the demanding growls. Peering out the opening, she watched a snake slither beneath the ferns, snatch a small furry creature up in its jaws, swallow it whole, and curl into a tight coil beneath a rock in a digestive slumber.

  Food and sleep. I could sure use some of both. Even a short nap would be helpful. A soft chorus of snores made her sigh. Torgin and Ira could doze almost anywhere. Desirol had taken his weather blanket to another tree. He sat in the midst of large ferns, his back pressed against the trunk with his head resting on bent knees.

  Esán sat with an arm around her, his eyes distant and his breathing measured. Someone had tried to gain control of his mind. In order to foil any further attempts, he had slipped into a deep trance. Her job was to monitor his breathing and keep a subtle curtain of energy around him. He would emerge when it was safe to do so. She sighed again.

  The Compass of Ostradio had brought them this far. She wanted nothing more than to be out of the Tinga Forest with its giant carnivorous plants and strange animals. Their run-in with the Ratee Tree still left her trembling when she thought of it. What else waits to harm us or worse…eat us? The idea that her friends could have been killed made her heart clench.

  She glanced around their shelter. The rough inner surface of the tree was pitted and uneven. Different types of moss and lichen had found a home in the damp wood. Although the top of the tree had toppled and left what should have been a gaping hole, something had grown across it, allowing only stray rays of light to leak through.

  The shriek of a bird sent her gaze darting out the opening. A flash of blue dove into ferns and other plant growth. An odd stillness followed its descent. She shivered and pulled her weather blanket closer around her shoulders. Homesickness almost overwhelmed her. I wonder what Mother is doing. Where is my father? And what of Wolloh? She had seen him crumple to the ground as she and her friends teleported. Whoever knocked him senseless sent us to a totally different place than he had intended. Now it’s up to Esán and the compass to get us to safety.

  Esán’s eyes snapped open. The pupils dilated and then shrunk to a normal size. He whispered, “We’re being stalked by a ludoc cat.”

  The Star of Truth sent a sharp, affirmative twinge down her spine. She gripped his hand and swallowed her fear. “Ludocs are the size of a rohes. They have razor sharp canines and long hind legs. They’re the swiftest predators on DerTah. If one is after us…” She groaned. “What do we do, Esán?”

  “The only thing I can think of is to scale the inside of this tree and pray it can’t reach us. We can’t move fast enough to get away from it. If it’s big enough, it might not be able to fit in this hollow. I’ll get Des. You wake the boys.”

  He crept through the mist and shook Des awake. A short argument ensued. Esán pivoted and headed back her way. Desirol marched after him muttering under his breath.

  She woke Ira. “We’re in danger.” He sat straighter, elbowed Torgin, and repeated her warning.

  Torgin turned pale as Esán joined them and described their adversary. “We are being hunted by a ludoc? I read about those. They like meat. What do we do?”

  Brie pointed upward. “We climb up there as high as we can go and pray that it is a really big cat.”

  A low growl immobilized the group.

  Esán took charge. “Ira, you’re the best climber. You go first. Then Brie, Torgin, and Des. I’ll come last and attempt to set
a shield.”

  Before he finished, Ira had already begun a search for hand and toe holds. “I think we can actually climb this. Look, there are indents and rough patches all the way up the inside of the trunk. Here I go.” Grabbing a straggly piece of wood, he placed his foot and began to climb. Brie scrambled after him. The higher they went, the narrower the tree’s diameter. Finally, he could go no further. He braced his back and legs and pulled her up so she could clasp chaffed hands around his thigh. “Hold on. I won’t let you fall.”

  Clambering as close to him as possible, she braced herself against the inner trunk and tried not to think about the bugs living in the rotting wood. Below her Torgin came to a stop. A growl chased Desirol higher. Esán was invisible below him. Closing her eyes, she stretched her senses outward. The ludoc crouched several trees away, its nose sniffing the air. Brie held her breath as it crept, belly to ground, toward their hiding place.

  Wolloh lay in an unconscious state suspended between life and death. Dreams pursued him through the fire swamps and boiling mud pits of DerTah. Tiny bugs bit his face until blood poured down his cheeks. His good eye ached from the heat and the blinding light of the sun. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Heat scalded his lungs with each haggard breath.

  A cool hand on his forehead made him moan. His eyes fluttered open. He uttered a cry of relief and slipped again into dreaming. He floated in a cool pool of water, steam rising from his half-submerged body. Beside him a man held him afloat. He closed his eyes and let the coolness wash over him. Pain eased. His mind cleared. Again, he opened his eyes.