by Jean Johnson
“Wait!” Kelly watched as they all returned their attention to her. “Do you guys have a flashlight or something I could hold?”
“A what?” the biggest and most muscular one asked.
“A source of light?” she rephrased. “It’s getting darker out here, if you hadn’t noticed.”
“I’ll get her one,” the auburn-haired one stated, and jogged toward the nearest wing. The others dispersed, scattering across the courtyard. Traveling, she noted, outside the massive, overgrown mansion of a building they had been inside of just a short while before. Within moments, Kelly was uncomfortably alone. There was a half-lit moon overhead, but it wouldn’t be enough to banish her uneasiness at being left alone in a strange place with strange things scuttling about.
The auburn-haired one came back a couple minutes later, as she peered through the dark at the ground around her for more of those spider-not-spider things with the impossible-to-pronounce name.
“Here.” He snapped his fingers and thrust an opaque white sphere at her, just a little smaller than the size of a volleyball. It looked like the ones she had seen in that workroom she had first arrived in, but it was dark, not bright, just a plain, opaque white globe that didn’t have any buttons or switches, or anything to show how she was supposed to turn it on.
“Hey! How does it work?” she asked quickly as he snapped his fingers a second time and turned to go. “And what was the snapping for?”
“I lowered and reset the wards. And you just tap it. Softly for a little light, harder for more, and twice hard and quick to shut it off—don’t worry, it won’t break, unless you throw it off the highest tower in the castle…though I doubt it would break even then; I’m very good at making them,” the redhead added with a hint of pride and a grin as he walked backward, away from her.
“Got it. Thank you,” she offered, but he had already turned away again, picking up into a light sprint with lithe grace across the now-deserted courtyard.
Holding the white ball in one hand, she hesitated a moment, then gave it a soft rap with a knuckle. It started glowing dimly, like a translucent glass ceiling cover wrapped around a lightbulb. Except it was a smooth sphere, with no openings for a battery or a lightbulb. The surface was smooth and glassy, but it weighed more like lightweight plastic than glass would, and yet felt solid instead of like a hollow sphere. It was a comfortable weight in the hand, actually. Even comforting, because it felt just solid and heavy enough to make a good throwing weapon.
Not that she was going to throw away her only source of light. That would require her to step outside the chalked circle to retrieve it. Since she was alone, and nothing was happening yet, Kelly experimented with the globe. After several tries, she figured out that it had roughly eight levels of light: from nightlight dim to blindingly white. The lattermost, she discovered when she smashed it as hard as she could with her fist, almost dropping it.
Hitting it twice rapidly after that left her blinking from the sudden darkness, big spots dancing in front of her eyes in an afterglow image.
As she blinked, adjusting her eyes, her ears picked up buzzing, rustling, even hissing sounds. Rapping medium-hard on the sphere, Kelly held it up over her head, turning to look at the outer wall behind her, where the noises were coming from. Things moved through the night, mostly small and fluttery, some larger and scuttly. A snake slithered past no farther than a yard from her feet, making her carefully scoot closer to the center of the chalk-mark. It was striped somewhat like a harmless garter variety, but Kelly had no idea what kinds of snakes in this world were the ones best to be avoided. Better to be safe than sorry…
She felt sorry for the serpent, since it was probably going to get charred when it got to the center of the castle—but then something fist-sized and black surged out of the shadows, grabbed the snake in way too many limbs, and tussled with it until the curling, writhing serpent went limp. It was all she could do to keep from twitching back out of the chalk circle as the mekhawhatchamacallit slurped up the snake like it was a piece of oversized spaghetti.
It paused for a moment, tensed, and dropped something small and black and multilegged out of its back end, and then scuttled onward, vanishing out of the reach of the light within moments. Its offspring immediately pounced on the nearest beetle, devoured it almost too fast to see what it was eating, then raced on as well, following the ragged course of its parent.
At least everything was swerving away from her by a good two feet beyond the chalk circle she stood in, proof that Saber’s repulsion spell was working.
Amazing. I’m standing on another planet, in another version of reality, another whole dimension, with a glowing magical ball in my hands, a warding spell around me, and gobbly things are eating snakes and insects on their way to a magic-made immolation on every side…Just…amazing.
It was a miracle she was taking it so calmly. Relatively. Her shadow kept shaking from the trembling of her hands, as they held the globe, and her breath hitched unsteadily as three more of those black things scuttled on by. They were remarkably fast and remarkably ugly.
The largest was the size of her head and froze her in place as it eyed her; it headed deliberately her way, then swerved at the two-foot-from-the-circle mark. It remained focused on her, too, sidestepping to keep her in view with several tiny, dark red eyes, before pausing for a long, disturbing moment on the side of the repulsion field closest to the massive castle. Finally, it moved on its way. Driven off by the protective magic the man Saber had cast around her, or more likely by whatever spell the brothers were wielding against all the icky things in their home.
The flow of creepy crawlies slowed to a trickle. Half a minute after they ended, one of the men came back through the courtyard at a slow stroll. It was the one with the hair so black, the lightglobe in her hands gave his locks only bluish highlights, nothing red. He had the same nose as Saber, long but not overly large, and the same stubborn chin, but his eyes were flat and dismissive as he glanced at her and continued walking without pause.
He was the one who had sounded about as grumpy as Saber, claiming he wouldn’t catch her if she fainted. Kelly didn’t yet know his name; she didn’t know most of the brothers’ names, for that matter. But as he passed through the brightest reach of the light, she knew she wouldn’t forget him quickly. Not when his eyes were eerily as dark as his hair, surrounded by black lashes and fine black brows that were lowered slightly in a look that would have been very intimidating, if Kelly didn’t think he was just concentrating on his spell-casting. Well, she hoped that was why he was frowning like that.
Clad in a black, long-sleeved tunic and equally black trousers, making his hands and his face pretty much the only things visible against the shadows of the night, the mage strolled past her. His arms were lifted, his palms facing out, a sense of energy like the looming of a storm about him, as he moved through the courtyard without a word to her. Kelly thought it was probably best not to disturb him by asking how much longer she would have to wait. The night certainly suited him; with his dramatic, contrasting coloring, she could almost picture him with fangs and a black, satinlined cape.
That thought made her choke back a quick laugh, since he was still within sight and sound of her. Clutching the lightball to her stomach, Kelly shifted her weight in the cooling air of the courtyard. It was a long wait. She eased her feet on the hard flagstone underneath her and did her best to endure the whole thing as stoically as she could, waiting for someone to return and tell her it was safe to move.
Only the moon kept her company now, besides the lightball in her hands.
After a while, a glow above the outer wall off to the side caught her attention. Studying it, she finally figured out what it was. Amazed, Kelly watched as a second moon gradually rose, smaller than the first one shining its bluish light down from overhead, but clearly a moon that was three-quarters full. Switching her gaze back and forth between the two moons, Kelly didn’t give any further thought to any mekhada-whatsits the brothe
rs might have missed. Those two moons were far more fascinating, and in a way far more alarming, than anything black and scuttly that an invisible wall was clearly protecting her from.
She really was in another universe, on another world. She was, as the people of her world liked to say, definitely not in Kansas anymore. Glancing at the orb in her hands, glowing like a third, even more tangible moon, Kelly Doyle did her best to come to grips with what had happened to her.
Thankfully, someone had thought to open the upper windows of the donjon to let out the thick, roiling black smoke. Morganen, Dominor, and Evanor supported Koranen both physically and with metaphysical energy, as he concentrated his fire-based magic on his task. Saber, Trevan, Rydan, and Wolfer contained the beasts within a sphere-shaped shielding that kept the bugs in but allowed air and smoke to pass out, to keep from smothering the searing white core Koranen had created at the center of the hall.
It was unnerving, watching those mekhadadaks snap and snarl and devour the rodents, snakes, and insects being compressed within, growing larger and dumping new versions of themselves. Within an uncomfortably short stretch of time, it was mostly mekhadadaks, and very shortly after that, just the warped carrion-eaters alone.
A pity they will not simply eat each other, Saber thought, holding his quarter slice of the sphere-shield steady. The original version would only breed once a year, unless a more than adequate food supply was on hand. Such as on a battlefield. They also lived only two years. These things bore young anytime they ate ten times their own body-weight, once their central bodies were as thick as a man’s fisted hand and their legs longer than that by a hand’s length.
A mekhadadak would eat anything that moved and caught its vision, heading straight for it while it moved and relying on its sense of smell when it got within a yard or two to tell it if it were actually edible meat or something indigestible, like a curtain swaying in the breeze. The fact that they were silent even while they burned, unlike the hisses and shrieks their more vocal prey had issued while being devoured or burned, was unnerving. Saber grimaced, watching the immolation as he held his part of the shielding.
Gods, I hate mekhadadaks! I’d love to know which bastard keeps sending them to us. And now we have a woman on the isle, a magicless one with no clue as to what’s dangerous or safe in this world, to worry about, too.
Rydan had nodded at him when he arrived, reassuring him silently that the woman hadn’t moved from the ward-circle he had cast around her, that she was still safe and unharmed. Not that Saber really cared if she was or not. He couldn’t allow himself to care. Whether or not her viewpoint on the meaning of his Curse was more accurate than his own, he couldn’t, daren’t allow any woman to stay long enough to risk bringing that foretold disaster down upon them all.
It didn’t help that he lived in a universe where disasters foretold by true Seers had a bad habit of coming true.
I will not fall in love with her. She isn’t even my type. Of course, it would help if he could remember what his type was. That was what happened to a man after three years of involuntary celibacy. She’s sharp-tongued, screams too much, and doesn’t even dress properly—no, don’t think of how she’s not dressed!
Firming his attention, he held the sphere until Koranen finally ended the burning hot fire at the center of their sphere. The second youngest of them slumped into the waiting arms of three of his brothers, the white-hot fire dying out at the same time. Saber nodded, and his brothers lowered their linked shield. Only the finest white powder drifted down to the floor from the incineration site, and not much of that. Koranen had been well named, when the Prophecy had labeled him the Son that was Flame.
“I’ll get him some food,” Evanor offered, heading for the kitchen.
“Trevan, Wolfer, sweep the woods outside tomorrow. Rydan, scry through the night, make certain we missed nothing. And keep the wall shields up all night, until we can sweep the land outside during the daylight.”
Dominor smiled slightly, but not out of humor. “I suppose we’ll be cleaning the castle, next? Doing all the dusting, sweeping, cobwebbing, and polishing to please our guest?”
About to suggest that himself, Saber stiffened his resolve. “No. If she wants her chamber cleaned, she can do it herself. Get to work on getting her out of here as soon as you can, Morganen. She doesn’t belong here.”
Leaving the others, he strode out of the great hall. When he reached the courtyard, the woman Kelly of Doyle was still standing there, indecently clad in those charred, loose trousers and that ripped, singed tunic-shirt of hers, instead of a proper skirt and blouse, or a gown. She was idly rolling and shifting the lightglobe someone had fetched for her from hand to hand, lost in whatever thoughts had occupied her in the intervening time. She looked skinny and strange. And yet she wasn’t an ugly female. Even Saber couldn’t lie about that.
Her head snapped up as he moved into the globe’s field of light, spotting his approach.
“Saber? Are they all gone?”
At least she wasn’t hysterical anymore. “They’re gone. I will take you back to your room.”
“Are you sure they’re gone?” she asked.
“I swept your chambers myself.” He turned on his heel and headed back toward the palace.
“Hey!”
Saber stopped and looked back at her. She was still standing in the chalk circle. She hadn’t followed him as he’d expected. Women. They’re too damn contrary! Especially this one. Gods, get her out of here quickly! “What?”
Kelly folded her arms more tightly across her chest. “You didn’t say I could come out and play, you know. You said I had to stay right here until you told me otherwise.”
She’s actually obeying? Saber found himself arching a brow at that. “Are you asking my permission to move?”
She lowered her golden-copper brows and hefted the glowing ball in her hand, narrowing her eyes in menace. “Do you want me to bean you with this?”
There was the temper of the virago he remembered, though he wasn’t sure what beans had to do with her threatening to throw the lightglobe at him. Truth was, he had forgotten she could not dispel the simple warding spell on her own, like any of his brothers could. Three years was a long time to be away from those who didn’t also possess the gift of magic in one form or another. He snapped his fingers. “You can move, now. But if you hit me with that—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know; you’ll do something gruesome to me, or chain me up in the dungeon or something,” she muttered, stepping over the circle and making her way past the weeds growing up through the flagstones. “Warn me if we have to pass any broken glass. I didn’t exactly have time to look for myself on the way down here, and you guys certainly aren’t the poster boys for Housekeepers of the Year.”
“Is that your way of asking to be carried?” Saber demanded, glaring at her for being such a nuisance.
“That’s my way of asking if there was any glass, to avoid bloodying my damned feet!” she snapped back. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, regarding that Prophecy, Mister Grumpy. No woman in her right mind would fall for a surly ass like you!” She stomped past him, heading for the bulk of the castle to look for a door—then hissed and hopped on one foot. “Ow, dammit!”
“What is it? Glass?” Saber asked, instantly at her side. He didn’t think any glass had been broken and scattered this far out into the courtyard, though some of the palace windows had cracked with neglected age long ago, and none of the brothers had repaired anything beyond what was absolutely necessary since their arrival.
“No, it’s a thistle thorn! You’re lousy groundskeepers, too!” She let him balance her, as she cradled the lightball in one hand and picked the thorn out of her toe with the other, her heel braced on her thigh with limber dexterity.
“Well, I am not weeding the whole damned courtyard just to satisfy Your Pickiness!” he shot back, concern adding an extra edge to his tone. She dropped her foot and limped forward, pointedly ignoring him. He let
out a disgusted sound and picked her up, swinging her over his shoulder again. “The faster I get you back, the faster I can be rid of you!”
“Well, why don’t you run, then?” Kelly demanded sarcastically, gritting her teeth from the bruises on that side of her body. There were plenty of others elsewhere, but did he have to slam her face down over his shoulder and hit the ones on her stomach again?
Unfortunately he took her seriously. By the time they got up to the room she had been placed in before, Kelly could barely breathe from all the painful jouncing. He dumped her on the bed, and she curled in on her stomach, eyes squeezed shut.
Saber, turning to leave, looked back at her. She was lying on her side, her bottom lip once again pinched in her teeth, her expression lit at an awkward angle from the lightglobe she had dropped on the bedding next to her. “What, for the love of Jinga, is wrong now?”
“I was being sarcastic about you running, you idiot,” she managed tightly. “After having a ceiling beam drop on me and God knows what else, and your rough handling before, you think I wanted more bruises and pain?”
Torn between irritation at her scolding and anger at his compassion for her, Saber glared at her, whirled, and stalked out. Slamming the door behind him.
When her stomach stopped hurting enough to breathe easily once again, Kelly crawled off of the bed and went around rapping on the crystalline lights—now that she knew how to activate them—until the room was well lit against any missed insects or gobbly bugs. Nothing moved but herself and the occasional breeze-wafted cobweb, though; Saber and his brothers had been very thorough. Not very clean where the grime was concerned, but very crawly things thorough.
It would have to do.
He had also brought her a fair amount of food to eat earlier, Kelly discovered when she investigated the dome-covered platter that had been set on a chest near the door. No silverware, but there was a mug of something that looked and smelled like stout ale, and a plate piled with cooked vegetables, shredded meat, and half a loaf of delicious-smelling, garlic-buttered, toasted bread. Whole wheat, plus rye and oat flours, she decided from the look and the smell.
