by Rain Oxford
“Which world?” I asked.
“I don’t know the star maps of every world,” he said as if I were nuts. “All I know is that it isn’t Duran. We need to ask the others if they recognize it.”
“Have them come in one at a time. We don’t want their magic interfering with the signal,” Sammy said.
Edward left and returned with Azyle. After a moment of examining the sphere from different angles, he shook his head. “It is not Mulo.” He left and Edward brought in Nano, Shiloh, and Ghidorah. Mordon breathed a sigh of relief when Ghidorah said it was not Skrev. Then Edward brought Emrys in.
“That is Malta’s sky.”
“You’re sure?” I asked.
“Definitely.” He pointed at a small cluster of stars. “That cluster is unique. From Malta, it looks like a magic symbol. Magic is our life on Malta; we know our magic symbols.”
“Now we know what world. What do we do about place and time?”
“You need to narrow your focus,” Sammy said. “Focus on the world. The look, the feel, the sound, the smell… What does its magic feel like? You both have to concentrate, but look at the map while you do.”
Mordon and I stood across from each other and remembered everything we could about the world. I thought of the water tribe; about the smell of the ice, the cold, and Emrys’s daughter. I thought about the land tribe; about the stars and the swamp. I remembered the choking heat of the cave in the fire tribe as well as the white walls and painted glass of the mend and ken tribes.
The glowing spots in the crystal ball started swirling and blending until they formed a place. It was outside, but the ground was solid stone and there were stone columns in rows until they broke formation to form a circle around a huge statue. The sculpture was of a woman with her hands outstretched as if she were handing something off. A robe was just barely covering her figure, but her face was done in strong detail, which made me assume the statue wasn’t a symbol of women but a specific person.
“Air temple. The air tribe has many temples, and each has a different monument. It is outside and only the air tribe has shrines outside,” Emrys said. “Furthermore, I recognize that one. Amkahe. According to the monks, Madus told her the night before her son was born that he was meant for a higher life and that she had to give him up. She refused, no matter how much the people demanded it. The baby was born and all people lost their magic. Without magic there was no fire, no rain, no plants growing, no wind, no healing… everything just stopped. For five days the whole world was silent. People died. On sixth day, she came to this spot on the mountain and gave up her baby. Magic was returned to the land and she killed herself. The last person who spoke to her said that she didn’t do it for the loss of her child but for the death of those who died because of her refusal. They built this shrine for those who have lost to grieve in peace.”
“A lot of stories like that on Earth are myth. Is that one real?” I asked.
“I think all myths are based on something true. In this case, it was all true.”
“Why would Madus want her child?”
“Because none of the Guardians except for you were allowed to grow up with their parents,” he said. Now everyone looked at him as he studied the statue in the little sphere. “That was my mother. She gave me up to be raised by the monks on an island that was never found again. By the time I was old enough to be returned, the shrine was already there.”
“Dad, you’re starting to lose the connection,” Sammy warned. He was right; the shape was fading. “You need to find the time now. The exact time and date that this map is indicating. Think of the item you are looking for.”
“A dagger,” I said.
“That’s it? What does it look like?” Edward asked.
“We didn’t ask. He just said a dagger was the first thing we were getting.”
“He said air dagger,” Mordon corrected.
Edward rolled his eyes. “Dylan, sometimes I wonder if I ever taught you anything,” he groused, walking around the table to rummage through his scattered cards. “This is what you are looking for.” He held up a card with the image of a small dagger. The handle of the dagger was yellow with symbols written on it.
“Focus on the object. It will appear in the crystal ball and you will get a weird feeling. You didn’t explain it very much. Focus on the weird feeling and that’s the time you need to go to,” Sammy said.
“A weird feeling?” Mordon asked.
“Sammy can see the future and past, but he is not a time traveler,” Ron explained. “Vretial said that with Iadnah magic, we can bend time, but we have to feel it. We have to feel time.”
“How often does Vretial talk to you?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Once a month or so in the last year. He’s a bit silly and sometimes it’s hard to understand what he’s telling me.”
“You know that the gods think he’s the bad guy?”
“Daddy, you taught us to make up our own minds. Didn’t the gods think you were dangerous when you were born? You talk about him, but you never said he was bad. He never tried to hurt either of us. He doesn’t act like a bad man,” Ron said.
“What does a bad man act like?” I asked, getting a look from Mordon. “What?”
“Vretial asked you that question when you told him he didn’t act like a bad man.”
“What does that matter?” Edward asked.
“Everything matters,” I said. “Mordon is right. He was always so hung up on me not fearing him. Then he asked me that. He said that he hadn’t changed, but he had. He was psychotic when I met him.”
“Before he took a mortal form,” Mordon said.
“He did what?!” Emrys asked.
Mordon had caught Edward and Divina up on everything that had happened while I was recovering, but the other Guardians were in the dark.
“You probably shouldn’t hear this,” Edward said, guiding Emrys out. “Plausible deniability.” He closed the door behind the eccentric Guardian. “Too many people. Too much power swirling around, sucking up the energy.”
“Eddy, are you sad that they are messing up your feng shui?” Sammy asked. My son was a brat sometimes… just like me.
Ron elbowed him in the stomach. “You’re being rude. He doesn’t like being called Eddy. Concentrate, Daddy,” Ron reminded. The image in the globe had mostly faded because we were distracted, but we quickly regained the shape.
Getting back to work, Mordon and I focused on the dagger. Within a few minutes, the energy reformed until the statue held the small dagger in one of her hands. Something shaped in my mind. It was a feeling very close to urgency, like I had a very important appointment and I was afraid I would be late. However, that feeling quickly faded and I felt something much deeper, something I really couldn’t explain.
I pulled the glass apple out of my bag and set it on the table. “Edward, will you get the scabbard for the katana?” I asked. I didn’t think I should leave the table in case the globe faded again.
Edward went downstairs and Mordon grabbed my sword off the kitchen counter. When Edward returned with the scabbard fitted into a harness and belt, it was Mordon who took it and strapped it to himself before sheathing the sword. Obviously, it would be good to have if we were attacked by fish people… or bird people… but I was very unlikely to use it. Between my luck improving over the years and lessons from Edward and Mordon, I could trust myself not to get skewered on my own blade, but I still hated using it.
“I have no idea how this is going to work, so if anything freaky happens, it is okay to panic.” I held the glass apple out for Mordon. “I don’t know how to use our new apple time-portal, so you think real hard about the place, and I’ll focus on the time.”
“What if it splits us up?” he asked, putting his hand on the apple hesitantly.
“We can deal with it. I can flash to you or get Divina if we end up in different times. I get the feeling we’ll only have one shot at this. If we manage to be there at the right time, we have got t
o get the dagger, because we can’t go back to the same time and place.”
“Alright, so if there’s a monster trying to attack us like last time, you focus on the dagger while I fight the monster off. If it’s a flying creature, you need to put up a shield.”
“And if it’s people, you can eat them while I focus on the dagger,” I suggested.
He sighed. “Or we can see if they are peaceful first.”
I gave him my best “why?” look before we both gave our attention to the apple. I concentrated on the feeling hard enough I almost didn’t realize the apple was getting warm. It was not surprising when images and smells of the air tribe appeared in my mind.
“Stop thinking so loud,” I said.
“Get out of my head,” he grouched. We were just picking on each other, because I knew he was getting some of my thoughts, too.
It was amazing, really, how compatible our minds were, that we could actually talk to each other in our heads without using magic. With no one else could I share my magic. Sure, I could use my magic on someone, but Mordon could use my magic and I could use his. That wasn’t normal and I couldn’t do it with anyone else; not even Divina. Plus, I knew that we had still not discovered everything we could do.
“No, don’t start wandering. We are working.”
Right. Work. Think of time. I renewed my concentration, closed my eyes, and knew the moment I lost contact with Duran. While I still felt the gravity of the world, the energy and sense of home disappeared. The feeling I fixated on felt like it was changing, but it was too foreign to understand. When it stopped shifting, the world seemed to tilt. Coupled with a sudden increase in gravity, I couldn’t keep my feet under me.
I opened my eyes and twisted in order to save the glass apple from shattering. Mordon grunted as he hit the ground beside me. We were outside, surrounded by rock columns. The ground we stood on was solid stone with huge, circular symbols carved into it like ritual etchings. The sun was setting and the sky was clear. Off to one side of the temple was a sheer drop, but in front of us was the statue of the woman.
“There is no one very close. I feel no threat in the air, not even a basic trap. I guess nobody knew we were coming,” Mordon said.
“I also don’t see a dagger,” I said. As soon as the last word was out of my mouth, a small double-edged dagger appeared in statue’s hand. I quickly grabbed the object in case it vanished.
“Now what?” he asked as I examined the artifact.
It was about ten inches long with a six-inch blade. The short hand guard, approximately three inches across, made it look a little like a cross. Across the yellow handle and guard were magic sigils and Hebrew words written in red paint. At the end of the handle was a small metal piece, which looked like the head of the pawn in a chess set.
I felt nothing special over the dagger; no great power running through it, nothing worth risking our lives over. I worried for a moment if this was the wrong dagger, but I trusted my father so I slipped it into my bag.
I shrugged. “We go home, I guess.” I held out the apple and he reached to touch it before pausing. He frowned and sniffed the air.
“I hear screaming and I smell blood and fear.”
“Sounds like something we should definitely be a part of. Lead the way, Barry der Menschenretter.”
“What?” he asked.
I gave him my best eye roll and shook my head. “No classical education.” He returned my eye roll and walked around the statue. I put the apple in my bag and frowned at the unsightly lump.
Whereas one side of the temple was a cliff drop, the other side merged into a stone garden. The ground was covered in small stones that served for sand and moss instead of grass. Small waves and circles patterned the pebble-sand. Across from the garden was a rock wall with a bamboo gate. The only pathway into the gate was a narrow strip of closely placed, flat stones. At this point, I could hear screaming.
With my mortal magic badly weakened on Malta, I should have hesitated. However, I was a Guardian; it was in my blood to help people. My Iadnah energy held strong and I would do what I could with what I had.
Beyond the bamboo gates was a little village. Though it was most likely normally a clean, peaceful village with a fish pond and children playing, it was currently going up in flames. People were running around screaming, trying to get inside while it rained burning stones from the sky. The small palace built into the side of the mountain was partially collapsed, and the pond was glowing with eerie orange water.
Several people were trying to control the fire balls with wind… which was really dumb. Mordon waved his hand and all fire died. There were maybe a dozen people still panicking on the street when the demon rounded the corner to scatter them. Honestly, I didn’t understand the panic, unless Maltese people were deathly terrified of rejected werewolves.
There were B movies that I enjoyed for the laugh involving creatures more frightful than this. Her exact height was difficult to determine because she stood hunched with her legs folded as if it was nearly impossible for her to stand bipedal, but she tried anyway. She had the same shape as a very gangly human, but with longer limps and a longer torso. Her feet and hands were more paw-shaped and her face was like a thin wolf’s. Her skin was dark gray and covered with scant gray fur.
One young boy, no older than Sammy, slipped and hit the ground hard about thirty feet ahead of us. His blue attire was torn and covered in ash and blood. When the demon went after him, I threw an energy shield around him, but he didn’t get up.
Mordon drew the katana and we both went to the child. I dropped the shield as Mordon stood between the boy and the demon. Trusting that my friend could handle his opponent, I focused my attention on the child.
Since he was covered in ash and blood as well as unconscious, it was difficult to determine where and how badly he was injured. I didn’t want to move him until I was sure he had no broken bones. I checked his pulse with my finger on his neck, but with my other hand on his chest, I sent my magic into him to find anything that wasn’t meant to be. Like echolocation, my magic returned to me with the image of a few breaks and tears, but nothing life-threatening. His heart did beat strong, if not too fast. Who really knows with aliens?
Visualizing the broken bones setting and healing, I sent my magic back into him with intent to heal. As they stitched back together in my mind, I knew they were doing so in him. I just wished he didn’t wake up in the middle of it and start crying. All the while, I could hear Mordon in the background.
“What hurts? I can help you if you tell me what hurts.”
“My mother is trapped,” he whimpered, trying to wipe the tears out of his eyes. Unfortunately, he had a bad cut on his hand, which smeared blood on his ash-covered cheeks.
“Cover,” Mordon said with a grunt. I leaned over the child in case a blow was coming and ducked my head in time to be splattered with hot liquid. I turned to see Mordon sliding the sword out of a demon. There were four ungodly bodies littering the ground at Mordon’s feet and he was covered in thick, wine-colored blood. Drops of the demon blood covered me as well.
“That’s gross,” I said, climbing to my feet before helping the little boy up. “What is your name?” I asked him.
“Brods.”
“Okay. Brods, can you lead us to your mother?” I asked. The boy nodded and took my hand before leading us through the streets. The entire way, we were met with rubble and people in distress. Mordon watched for any threat while I focused on the people. None of them seemed to suffer major injuries, but I planned to go back to them after finding the boy’s mother.
Before we could find her, a creature blocked our path. It was shaped like a thin canine, but with slightly too-long legs and a long neck. Even its head was long and thin, but it was the glowing blue eyes that were most creepy. The demon was primarily hairless, though it had dark grey, splotchy skin like really bad mange. Foam dripped from the folds in its skin around its muzzle as the creature flashed its fangs.
It was a demon and I expected Mordon to attack without hesitation. I could never have predicted that Mordon would react the way he did. He backed up into me, nearly knocking me down, and I was forced to let go of Brods’s hand or risk injuring him. Mordon didn’t look away from the demon, but he was shaking. I grabbed his arm and drew in his fire.
I tried to step in front of him, but he pushed me back. I couldn’t do anything without risking hurting my friend. “Mordon, stop it.”
He gasped, trying to speak. “Dejeva,” was all he managed.
Well, that explains it. Edward had told me the stories. While it was merely creepy to me, there was something in the blood of sago that made them all terrified of the creature… which was odd, because Ronez was sago and I didn’t share their fear. “Rojan. You need to take over,” I said. I knew he would hear me even over Mordon’s panic. Unfortunately, I got no response.
I realized that my friend had a small war going on inside him. Mordon was terrified, truly and deeply terrified, but Rojan was furious. For this reason, Mordon couldn’t react with fire. The fear Mordon felt was ingrained in sago, but not dragons, so his sago instincts were to freeze, not to use dragon fire.
I pulled my sword from Mordon’s hand and with Iadnah energy, thrust it through the air with no hand to guide it. The creature was unafraid, as I heard that no mortal blade could kill it. However, azurath was not a normal metal. This sword could kill the dead. While the creature looked like a dejeva, it was no more than a clever demon, and its flesh was pierced easily. With a terrible scream, the imposter died. I approached it, removed my sword, and returned to Mordon.
“Are you good now?” I asked. I hated killing, even hunting for food, but it was for Mordon so I would get over it. He took the sword, shaking out of his blinding fear, and nodded.
We came to what was once a door, but was now a pile of debris. “I smell smoke and pain,” Mordon said. He didn’t move toward it, but looked to me for direction.
It would have been very easy to move the stone bricks with my magic, but doing so could possibly set off a worse cave in. This must have been a home built against the main palace, perhaps servants’ quarters. Unfortunately, a portion of the palace had collapsed on top of the small roof.
