"Be careful, Nicolai," Katrina said, her voice even more haunting in this strange setting. "You cannot help me.
"Help you?" Ondarev said in disbelief. "What is happening here, Katrina?"
"They have found me, Nicolai."
"Who? Who has found you?"
"The alien things. The thing with wings and claws that I killed in the field when we searched for the stelae," Katrina explained. "There are still a few of them here, and they are going to try to open the sky again, but they want to destroy me first."
Ondarev could not believe what he was hearing, what he was seeing. "How can they do this? There is no one here but you!"
"You are wrong, Nicolai," she said softly, her voice barely a whisper over the wind of the swirling objects. "Do you not feel the cold of their presence? Do you not see the force of their will in these items they have turned into weapons? I can hold them off for a time, but there are many more of them than there is of me. I am growing weaker, and they have lost none of their strength."
Ondarev moved forward, looking for an opening through which he could pass. He dodged another object, a book that hurtled toward his head, then decided to charge directly into the center of the room. He only took three steps when a chair smashed into his back and knocked him to the floor. He tried to rise, but another object caromed off his forehead, cutting a gash in his flesh. Blood dripped into his eyes, and he blinked rapidly to clear them. More objects battered him, hitting him with terrible force. Ondarev slipped, went down on one knee, tried to lift himself up, and another large object hit him squarely in the back. He fell, and the knowledge that by falling he was lost caught in his mind like bile. It was a bitter realization, for it meant that he had failed Katrina when she needed him most.
The swirling objects smashed into him, pressing him down into the floor. They were going to crush him! Panic started to rise within him, and he struggled to relieve the terrible pressure that the objects exerted. It was no use though, he was not strong enough to free himself. He tried to breath, but the force constricted his chest. He felt suffocation coming; he would die from lack of air before the objects could crush him, and he thought that that was a better way to die.
Then, as suddenly as it started, the pressure eased. The objects fell away with a clatter, and Ondarev pushed himself off of the ground. He wiped blood from his eyes and looked around. All ready the room was warming up, and the objects that had been circling the room or attacking him were scattered across the floor. Standing by the doorway were the six members of Ondarev's initial class of psychically-gifted people. They were holding hands, their faces twisted in concentration. In the middle, apparently directing their activity, was young Piotr.
"Nicolai?" Katrina asked, a tinge of fear in her voice.
"Here, Katrina," Ondarev said, taking hold of the young woman. She threw her arms around him and hugged. This was a good pressure, he decided. He liked this much better than the other.
Katrina, still holding onto Ondarev, raised her head. "Thank you, Piotr," she said sincerely.
Piotr opened his eyes. When he saw that both Ondarev and Katrina appeared to be all right, he smiled. "I'm
glad we were able to help."
"What did they do, Katrina?" Ondarev asked.
"They blocked the invaders, cut off the path that their energy was using. They will be back, but not for a little while, I think."
Ondarev held her tightly, suddenly afraid that his beloved country wasn't as safe as he had thought.*
92
The tra moved across the rocky ledge like a mountain goat. It was a sure-footed, agile lizard that was also very stabile. From the high vantage point, Julie was able to look down upon the valley they had climbed out of. There was a rare break in the mist, and she was able to see for a long distance. It was really a beautifully lush world, full of all kinds of exotic plants. Only the mist obscured the picturesque view, and the humidity.
"It's not the heat, it's the humidity," Julie said, and she gave a small laugh.
Decker looked at her strangely, but she did not explain herself. It's good to keep them guessing, she thought. As she remembered their brief time together in the clump of trees, she smiled. He was a tender, passionate lover, and she found that she wanted to feel his touch again. There would be time enough later, she decided. They would survive this trip and then they would leave the battle to others and go somewhere to be by themselves. They had done their share, especially Ace, and they deserved whatever happiness they could find in this dangerous world.
"I love you, Ace Decker," she said spontaneously, turning slightly to kiss him.
He returned her kiss and smiled. "I love you, too, Julie Boot."
"Let's forget all this saving the world stuff and run away together," she said half-jokingly. But a part of her was very serious.
He gave her a stern look. "Julie Boot, what would Kurst say if we got off this tra and went into the jungle to set up a cave together?"
"He would say to beware of roprajes, for they like to lair in caves," Kurst called from his place at the front of the lizard.
"Well thank you very much, Mr. Kurst," Julie scolded. "And I was going to suggest that you be Ace's best man."
"Julie?" Decker asked. "What are you suggesting?"
"I'm not sure exactly," she admitted, "but I know I don't want to live without you, Ace."
He smiled. "Let's wait until this is over before we make any promises."
She turned back to look at the valley, and a dark bank of clouds caught her eye. It was a towering formation that sparkled with flashing lightning. It was far off, but she could tell that it was moving very fast. And it seemed to be on a direct line for them.
"Kurst, what is that?" she asked, pointing at the horizon.
Kurst stared at it for a full minute, then he slapped the lizard, making it pick up speed.
"Kurst, what's the matter?" Julie asked again.
The hunter did not face her as he spoke, instead keeping his eyes on the path ahead. "That is the Wild Hunt, Julie," he explained. "That is the thing Paragon warned us of."
"But what's it doing here?" she asked frantically.
"It's hunting us," Decker said, realizing that that was the only possible answer.
93
Dr. Hachi Mara-Two worked through the long trip, busily connecting the data plate with her memories of Kadandra to the modified jaz pack. She double-checked all of the circuits and pins, adding a minute adjustment here, a slight realignment there. Then she held it before her and concentrated her left eye upon it. Built-in scanners and image enhancers magnified the circuits and checked for flaws while she held her breath. In a few seconds, her diagnostic computer gave her the answer she waited for: the circuits were flawless. She let out a deep sigh.
Mara had done it! The jaz pack could be attached to anyone, even someone without any cyber enhancements at all, and that person would be able to experience the sensover images of Kadandra. Excitement raced through her blood at the accomplishment, and she felt like shouting. It was the same feeling that coursed through her system when she discovered the cosmverse, when she looked upon her first alien cosm, when she built the transference cylinder.
These thoughts led to the dark results of each of her triumphs, and Mara wondered what evils this new invention would lead to. Then she dismissed the notion.
"Don't be ridiculous," she told herself. "Aren't you carrying around enough guilt for one sixteen-year-old?"
Mara held the jaz pack in her right hand
(never in the left one)
and got out of her seat. She walked down the narrow aisle between the seats in the seaplane and sat down next to Djil. The aborigine smiled when she approached, flashing his missing tooth with unselfconscious ease.
"How are you doing, young Mara?" Djil asked pleasantly. He held the knotted rope in his hands, running his callused fingers over the six knots.
"I'm doing fine, Djil," she smiled back. "What about you?"
He held th
e rope up for her to examine, taking care to show her the two knots on the end. "Decker and Kurst are closer," he told her. "They are going to meet us in Tolwyn's world."
"How do you know that, Djil?" Mara asked. The aborigine shrugged. "I have seen their dreams. But there is something dark and terrible behind them, rushing like a storm to catch them. They must stay ahead of this storm, or we are all lost."
Mara did not know how to respond to the shaman's claims, so she held up the jaz pack. "I've got something to show you, too," she said, a smile suddenly brightening her face. "It's my data plate, but I've rigged it so you can see my world. Isn't that fantastic, Djil?"
Djilangulyip looked at the jaz pack, cautiously touching it with one outstretched finger. Then he shook his head. "That is for someone else, Mara," he told her firmly. "It's not for me."
"What are you talking about?" she complained. "I worked hard on that, and I did it because you wanted to see my world."
The aborigine took her hand (the right one, never the left one) and said gently, "I do want to see your world, Mara, and your Dream Time. But you built that device for someone else, someone you don't even know. It is very important that you save it for that person. Very important. Do you understand."
Mara shook her head. "Not a word. How could I have built this for someone I don't know? That's impossible!"
Djil said nothing. He simply smiled at her and squeezed her hand.
"I give up!" she said, exasperated. "All right, Djil, I'll put the pack away for now. But if you figure out who this person is before I do, I'd appreciate it if you gave me a hint."
"Of course," Djil said, returning his attention to the knotted rope.
94
Angus Cage found himself tied to the bottom of a gigantic metal sphere. After they finished mummifying Clemeta, Mobius had Ahkemeses knock him out with a chemical-soaked rag. He didn't know how long he had been unconscious, but he was getting tired of waking up with a headache.
He examined his surroundings and found himself hanging by his wrists in a vertical, framework-filled shaft. His wrists were strapped to the bottom of the rivet-covered metal sphere, and his feet were tied together to keep them from flailing around.
"So you have finally awakened, Angus," Dr. Mobius said. He was standing upon an observation platform directly across from where Cage was hanging. With him were Teth-Net and the two priests.
"What's this, Mobius, some torture device?" Cage asked trying to put on a brave front.
"Oh, nothing so crude, Angus," Mobius declared. "You are hanging from the bottom of an artificial sun of my own creation. It is set to rise some fifteen minutes from now. You will rise with it. When it reaches its position in the sky, it will glow with light and heat, enough to provide the realm with ample quantities of both. Unfortunately, you're going to be a little too close to appreciate the wonder of it."
Mobius was going to fry him alive! Cage tried to struggle out of his bonds, but he had no leverage hanging as he was, and they were tied very tightly.
"I'll leave you now, for I have very important business elsewhere," Mobius informed him. "Wish me luck, Angus, for when I return I shall be the Torg, ruler of the entire cosmverse!"
"I hope you choke," Cage shouted.
"Charming to the end," Mobius sneered, then turned and exited the observation platform, taking Teth-Net and one of the priests with him.
The remaining priest stood in place, watching Cage struggle with the ropes that held him. Cage twisted every way he could, but the ropes held. Then, with a jarring shudder, the sphere began to roll up the framework track.
"Mobius!" Cage screamed, and the hated name echoed within the shaft.
As the sphere rose through the wooden and metal framework track, getting closer to an opening far overhead, Cage was able to see that it was covered in gold plating. He tried desperately to think of a way out of the diabolical trap that Mobius had placed him in, but nothing came to mind. It cleared the lip of the shaft, continuing to rise, a golden ball hovering above the city of Luxor. Cage could see the nearly complete Grand Temple of Ra falling away below him, next to the monolithic shaft the golden sphere emerged from.
Higher it flew, until the ground below was nothing but a miniature vista. Cage continued to struggle, but the ropes would not give. Then, to Cage's horror, the sphere began to glow, giving off light like a small sun. And, like a sun, the light was hot. Within seconds he began to sweat, and his flesh turned red from the baking heat. Soon it would reach temperatures that would knock him unconscious as his blood began to boil. He wondered if he would die before his flesh began to melt.
Hotter still, and Cage could no longer look directly at the sphere. Hotter, and his brain felt like it was on fire. Hotter, and one rope burned away from the rivet it was tied to. Cage found himself hanging by one arm, but he barely was able to register the change as the heat became unbearable.
Then, just before he passed out, the second rope snapped. Cage registered the rushing air, thankfully cool against his blistered flesh, as he began to fall.
It was the last thing he remembered as the ground came rushing to meet him.
95
Angar Uthorion sat upon the throne in Castle Ardinay, wearing the body of Lady Pella Ardinay. The High Lord of Magna Verita, Antipope Jean Malraux I stood at the window, looking out upon the Valley of the Sword.
"Where is that damn elf?" Uthorion cursed, and the words sounded foul and harsh coming from Ardinay's mouth.
"Patience, Angar," Malraux advised. "Good things come to those who wait."
"Spare me the sermon, Malraux. Time is getting very short, I can feel it. It is slipping away like sand through my fingers, and when it is gone ..."
"What?" Malraux laughed. "What will happen when your precious time runs out? Do you know, Angar? Have you become a prophet now as well as a woman?"
Uthorion started to rise at the High Lord's insult, but the arrival of Delyndun banished his anger. The elf mage entered the chamber, followed by a huge Viking warlord who, despite his size and strength, appeared to
be very nervous.
"I have brought Thorfinn Bjanni as you requested, Lady Ardinay," Delyndun announced, slipping into the charade they perpetuated for the people of Aysle.
"Welcome, warlord, to the castle of Lady Pella Ardinay," Uthorion said. "I am glad you were able to come on such short notice."
The Viking bowed, eyeing the Antipope suspiciously. Then he turned to the High Lord of Aysle. "My fleets are ready to strike out down the water bridge upon your word, my lady," Thorfinn said. "The entire Viking nation has joined beneath my banner for this campaign."
"As I knew they would, Thorfinn," Uthorion proclaimed. "We follow the plans and teachings of Lord Angar Uthorion, for it was he who showed me the true road to power."
"It is a road I gladly follow, my lady," Thorfinn agreed.
"Then I give you my blessing for the coming battle, and I give you the word," Uthorion said. "Let the sails unfurl and may the wind be at your back!"
Thorfinn bowed again, then turned to leave the chamber.
"One more thing, Thorfinn," Uthorion called. "Your dagger. Give it to me."
Uthorion held out Ardinay's slender hand to receive the weapon, but Thorfinn hesitated.
"Why, my lady?" he asked.
"Do you question the voice of Uthorion in Aysle?" Uthorion demanded sternly.
"Oh no, my lady," Thorfinn stammered, reduced to a mound of jelly before the beautiful and extremely powerful Lady of the Light. "It is just that this dagger has been in my family for more than three generations.
It is a personal thing."
"Then you would say it is almost a part of you?" Uthorion pressed.
"Yes, my lady, it is."
Uthorion smiled, and Ardinay's lips turned up in a dreadful grin. "Then give it here, my warlord," he said softly. "I shall hold it as a badge of honor until I join with you in Aysle realm!"
Thorfinn smiled. He slid the ornate blade from its sheath and p
resented it, hilt first, to the Lady of the Houses. Uthorion took it gratefully.
"This means more to me than you can realize, my warlord," Uthorion said, and Thorfinn exited the chamber proudly.
"What was that all about, Angar?" Malraux asked, trying to understand the games that the necromancer played.
"Insurance," Uthorion said mysteriously, "nothing but insurance."
96
"Damn you, Angus Cage, don't you die on me!" called a far away voice.
"Wake up!" it called again.
It was really very rude, trying to make him respond when all he wanted to do was die in peace.
"Cage!" the voice screamed again, this time much louder.
Cage opened his eyes, immediately regretting the simple action. Even his eyelids were sunburned, and he let a little scream escape his parched lips.
"That's a boy, Angus," the Guardian said, leaning over to look at Cage. "I knew you weren't a quitter!"
"What ... happened?" Cage asked, but he didn't
think the words came out above a whisper.
"You were almost turned into a french fry by Mobius' artificial sun," the Guardian explained. "It looks like the ropes burned away before you did. You fell quite a ways before Rocket Blue caught you."
Cage turned his head slightly, grimacing at the agonizing pain the simple movement caused him, and saw the familiar battle suit of a Rocket Ranger. The Ranger gave him the thumbs up sign, and he groaned loudly.
"Did you stop Mobius?" Cage asked.
The Guardian shook his head. "They were on to us," he said. "There was a trap waiting for us at the airfield. We managed to get away with a little help from some passersby, but we couldn't figure out where Mobius moved the operation to. So we decided to high-tail it back here to see if you needed any help."
"Thanks," Cage managed, motioning for the Guardian to help him sit up.
Clemeta was dead, and Mobius was on his way to become the Torg. Cage had failed on both counts, but at least he was still alive. He promised himself he would make Mobius pay for his crimes.
He ran his fingers over the long, thin scars on his chest, remembering Clemeta, remembering the electrifying touch of her long, red nails. He didn't think he'd ever forget her.
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