The UnFolding Collection Three

by S. K. Randolph

  “That’s Corvus. He rescued you from Vascorrie. He’s also been helping the children. You’ve captured him beautifully.” The Guardian of Myrrh stood in the entryway. Tear-stained cheeks and red eyes, caught Sparrow by surprise. She had never seen her anything but calm.

  “Almiralyn, what’s happened?”

  The Guardian tossed her long, silver-blonde braid over her shoulder and studied the painting. Beautiful sapphire eyes absorbed every detail. Her hand reached toward the canvas, then lowered.

  Keeping her gaze on the painting, she said, “I have contacted the Galactic Guardians and asked to resign my position as the Guardian of Myrrh.”

  Sparrow’s mouth fell open. She closed it and swallowed. “Tell me I didn’t hear you correctly.”

  “I must go to DerTah. And I can’t go as Myrrh’s Guardian. I would be a tool in the hands of Nissasa and whomever he works for if I were caught. So I must resign. There is a catch, however.”

  Apprehension surged through her. “What’s the catch, Almiralyn?”

  She stood very still. Her expression made Sparrow’s pulse quicken. “The Guardians will not allow me to leave unless someone is willing to assume my position here. They have given me permission to ask you to take my place, at least temporarily.”

  Sparrow’s brain scrambled around itself. Several seconds passed before she could make sense of what she had heard. She smoothed her dark hair back from her face. “You have to be joking. You want me to be the acting Guardian of Myrrh? That’s crazy, Mira. I’m an artist, a mother, a—” She sank onto a bench and covered her face with her hands.

  Almiralyn sat down next to her. “Please, Sparrow.”

  Sparrow looked up. The pleading in her sister-in-law’s eyes made her want to weep. “How on Myrrh can I do what you do? I can’t make the decisions you make. I don’t have the training or the background.”

  “You are as gifted as I am, Sparrow. Besides, Yookotay will advise you.”

  “Yookotay is the ReDael of the DeoNytes. He’s spent his life in the Dojanack Caverns, not dealing with the politics of the Inner Universe.”

  “I’ll transfer my powers and my knowledge to you. I can do that, and you’ll have everything you need to protect Myrrh.”

  “If you transfer everything to me where does that leave you?”

  “I would be like you assumed you were prior to discovering you are half KcernFensian and half RewFaaran.”

  “Do you want to tell me why you’re willing to give up everything, perhaps even your life, to fly off to DerTah?”

  A tear leaked from Almiralyn’s eye and slid into the corner of her mouth. She caught it on the tip of her tongue and licked her lips. “Nissasa has Karrew. He’s badly hurt—even worse than when Wodash wounded him in the Cavern of Tennisca. I can’t leave him there to die, Sparrow. He is—” Her shoulders heaved as a sob choked her.

  “I know you care about Karrew but he’s just a…” The look on the Guardian’s face and her own experience in Vascorrie stopped her. “Oh, Mira. He’s more than a raven and much more than your protector.”

  “He is Corvus, Sparrow. He is the man on your canvas; the man I love more than anyone in the Inner Universe. I cannot leave him in Nissasa’s hands.”

  Sparrow stared at the painting. It blurred and Allynae’s features came into focus. I’d do the same thing to save you, Alli . She took Almiralyn’s cold hand between hers. “I will act as the Guardian of Myrrh until you return. And I will do it without robbing you of the tools you need to save Corvus. You must promise me one thing, however.”

  “Anything, Sparrow.”

  “Once you have saved him. You must find Allynae and the twins and bring them safely back to me.”

  “I’ll do everything I can to restore your family to you.” She began to cry in earnest.

  Sparrow sat quietly. When Almiralyn’s tears ceased to flow, she put an arm around her shoulders.

  Almiralyn wiped her eyes on her sleeve and produced a watery smile. “I have one more thing to share before we tell the Guardians of your willingness to serve.”

  Sparrow searched her face. “And that is?”

  “I have sent word to a very special person to come and help you.”

  “Who?”

  “Do you remember Henrietta?”

  Sparrow’s heart steadied. Her resolve strengthened. “Of course. She took me to SumnerTymn to find Merrilea. You asked her to protect the twins and me.” She smiled. “You could have told me sooner, you know.”

  “Her presence here must be kept a secret.” She sat in silence for a time, shook herself, and got to her feet. “I want to leave as soon as possible. We have much to accomplish in a very short time.”

  Nomed entered the studio in time to hear the last exchange. “I hope you’re not thinking of rushing off to DerTah, Almiralyn. I told you I’d find Karrew.” Sparrow’s painting caught his eye. He moved closer. “Great picture of Corvus. Why did he appear on your—”

  Almiralyn’s expression stopped him. He looked from her to the canvas and back. “By the power of Emit, I should have known. Karrew is Corvus’ shifted form. Why didn’t you say so?”

  Almiralyn brushed a tear from her cheek and stood up. “I was in shock, and I couldn’t think. I have something to tell you. And something to ask.”

  Sparrow joined them, handed her a clean cloth to dry her tears, and smiled at Nomed. “Brace yourself.”

  What he saw in the Guardian’s face did not prepare him for her next statement.

  “I’m resigning as Guardian of Myrrh. Sparrow will be taking my place.”

  Bereft of speech, he took a minute to absorb the news. “Have you thought this through? If word gets out that you are no longer Guardian and someone with no experience—sorry, Sparrow, but you are untrained—is in charge of Myrrh and the protector of the Evolsefil Crystal and Elcaro’s Eye, Nissasa will throw a victory party.”

  Almiralyn took a deep breath. “No one will know I’m not here.”

  “Really? And how do you expect to keep that a secret?”

  She put an arm around Sparrow. “Because Sparrow is going to shape shift to my likeness.”

  The blood drained from Sparrow’s face. “But, Almiralyn, we don’t know if I can even shift my shape. To fool everyone, I’d have to shape you as Almiralyn, you as Mira, and you as a white bird.” Dazed, she shook her head and sank down on a chair.

  “You have to shift, Sparrow, or the Galactic Guardians won’t allow me to leave Myrrh. So Seyes and I are going to help you access your talent.”

  Nomed laughed. “What a quagmire this is! Is that what you were going to ask me? To help you teach Sparrow to shift?”

  She didn’t smile. “That and, once we have rescued Karrew, I want you to help me stop Nissasa Rattori and The Mocendi League.”

  2

  Master’s Reach

  DerTah

  W ind howled through the Tinga Forest. Waist high ferns whipped from side to side. Rain fell by the buckets full. Mist floated up from the water-logged ground to meet the fog descending from cloud-laden skies. Esán shivered and huddled closer to Brie in the hollow of a gigantic moss-covered tree. Wolloh meant for us to teleport to the seaside village of Atkis. What went wrong? The picture in my head was clear, and yet we ended up in a rainforest. He thought back to the arena in Shu Chenaro.

  One Man, Stebben, Allynae, Gerolyn, and Wolloh stood in individual pools of light, facing away from the arena’s center. They had just completed constructing wards to protect Wolloh’s land from Nissasa Rattori and his army of traitors.

  Wolloh yelled, “Seal and secure.”

  The adults turned to face inward. The five pools coalesced into one, enclosing Esán and his companions. It was time. He glanced from one friend to the next. Torgin looked grim but determined. Ira caught his eye and nodded. Desirol scowled. Beside him, Brie rubbed the Star of Truth on the nape of her neck, her expression puzzled.

  “Hold onto me,” he commanded. The next thing he knew they were in a dri
pping wet rainforest.

  Brie nestled closer. “Do you suppose Nissasa interfered? One Man said he stole the Oracle Stone from WoNa. Who else would have that kind of power?”

  Esán pressed the palms of his hands together and tapped his index fingers against his lips. “Nissasa?” He dropped his hands. “Makes sense.”

  Ferns whipped by the wind showered them with drops of cold water. Brie shuddered and adjusted the weather blanket. “When are you going to tell Des we think the Mindeco made it through the wards?”

  Esán stared out at the torrents of rain. “When—if we get a break in the weather. Rest while you can.”

  She leaned her head on his shoulder and grew quiet. He continued to contemplate the happenings at Shu Chenaro. The last thing he had seen prior to teleporting—Wolloh, the High DiMensioner od DerTah, crumpling to the ground.

  Torgin Whalend shivered. After a moon cycle in the Desert of Fera Finnero, the dampness of the Tinga Forest chilled him to the bone. Readjusting his weather blanket, he hunched lower under a dripping fern and peered through the mist at his companions. Ira sat by himself beneath the broad leaves of a giant bush, his weather blanket tented over his head and a scowl on his face. Esán and Brie huddled together inside a hollowed tree. They appeared to be quiet. He narrowed summer-green eyes. I know you’re talking. Wish I could use telepathy. Then I could be part of the conversation. Ah, well . Flicking a raindrop from his brown cheek, he brushed the water from black hair made even more curly by the penetrating dampness and frowned. Where’s Desirol? The youngest son of the Largeen Joram of the planet of RewFaar had become his nemesis over the course of the past moon cycle. Still, it wouldn’t do to lose him.

  He sloshed over to Esán and Brie and squatted. “Where’d Des go?”

  Esán’s blue-eyed gaze swept over mammoth trees to head-high bushes and came to rest on Ira. “Hey, Ira, where’s Des?”

  The tall boy’s scowl deepened. “Don’t know, maybe don’t care.” He tugged at his weather blanket. “Hate this rain. Can’t you teleport us to someplace dry?”

  Esán exchanged glances with Brie. “We can’t teleport anywhere.”

  Ira splashed toward them. “Why not. The Compass of Ostradio will tell us where to go.”

  Brie pulled him down beside her. “We think the Mindeco made it through Wolloh’s wards and followed us here.”

  Torgin moaned. “The Mindeco. That’s all we need—the most dangerous creature on RewFaar after us again.”

  No one spoke. His thoughts raced back to the Nesune Ruins in the desert, the place WoNa, the Atrilaasu Oracle, had directed them to when the Sebborr and Nissasa’s men were closing in on Eissua Oasis. The Mindeco was even more frightening than the death shadow he had encountered on Myrrh. Torgin shuddered. He could still feel the leathery creature’s single eye drilling into him and smell the putrid stench of decay on its huge, angular body. Its bear-like skull of a head was nightmarish. Goose bumps scurried up his back. Worst of all, it claimed Human bodies for its own. Keeping the memories intact, it destroyed the essence of the body’s owner. When it no longer needed the body, it shed it like old clothing to immediately decompose.

  “Torgin. Torg, wake up.” The strain in Ira’s tone infiltrated his thoughts.

  He blinked. “Sorry. Just remembering the Mindeco. Did I miss something?”

  “Desirol seems to have disappeared,” Brie said. “We called several times, but he didn’t answer.”

  Ira frowned. “Better look for him. If we split up, we’ll find him faster.”

  Esán shook his head. “We stay together. Any one of us alone is no match for the Mindeco. At least together, we might have a chance. Grab your packs. When we find Des, we’d better get moving.”

  Pounding footsteps and a frantic shout brought them to their feet. Desirol burst through the ferns, his eyes wild and fearful. “We have to go,” he said between hiccuped gulps of air. “A monster’s headed this way. We need to teleport. Fast!”

  Torgin blanched. “You mean the Mindeco has found us already?”

  Desirol’s head snapped his direction. “The Mindeco is still in the desert, right?”

  The companions glanced from one to the other. Esán’s gaze stopped on Desirol. “Brie and I think it made it through the wards.”

  “S-s-so we can’t t-teleport, or it will know exactly where we are.” The RewFaaran choked. “Wolloh said it left its mark on me. It will find me and take over my body.” Panic rode him like a wild horse. He swung around searching the undergrowth.

  “If you had kept your drango tunic, Des…” Ira’s unfinished statement brought a flush to the RewFaaran’s face.

  “I am the son and heir of the Largeen Joram of RewFaar. I will not swear allegiance to a tribe on another planet.”

  “I would have thought staying safe so you could actually become the leader of your home planet would have overruled your bias toward another people.” Ira assumed a fighter’s stance. “Now I suppose you want to beat me up.”

  Torgin looked from one to the other. “I believe we would all be better off if we got moving. You can fight another time.”

  Brie nodded her agreement. “Other things in the forest are already moving this way. We’d better do our best to be quiet and not to leave a trail.”

  Esán gave her a smile of appreciation and turned to Torgin. “Let’s have a look at the compass. Ask it the way to the village of Atkis. At least we can try to head in the right direction.”

  Torgin gave Desirol a warning look and pulled out the Compass of Ostradio. “Keep your distance, Des. You make one move to take it—”

  “Don’t worry, Torg,” Ira said, “if he even blinks at it, I’ll knock him out.”

  “You and who else,” Desirol growled.

  “Stop it.” Brie eye’s flashed. “A very ugly creature is closing in on us. It will be dark soon. We need to move.”

  Ira and Desirol continued to look daggers at each other.

  Ignoring them both, Torgin held out the compass. “Show us the way to Atkis.”

  The arrow spun and stopped. A map rose above the compass and enlarged. Esán studied it. “Two places are marked, the Tinga Forest and Atkis. We need to go south, and we need to leave now.” Slinging his pack over his shoulder, he began to walk in the direction of the village, Wolloh’s intended destination for them.

  Tucking the compass beneath his tunic, Torgin grabbed his pack and flute and strode after him. Brie hurriedly joined Esán. Ira and Desirol scowled at each other and followed.

  Drops of water showered down from giant foliage. The ground under foot trembled. Not far behind them, a creature howled. Silent as hunted mice, the companions moved through the sodden undergrowth.

  Forcing back the fear that had made him a victim of the death shadow, Torgin hoped none of them would become prey for whatever was closing in from behind.

  Heat dissipated slowly as night laid claim to the Desert of Fera Finnero on the planet of DerTah. In the Fortress of LeCur in its northern reaches, thick stone walls imprisoned the tepid daytime temperature until Fasfro, DerTah’s saffron-colored moon, had breached the horizon and sailed high in the sky. Only then did cool air penetrate into the rooms where the Dreela Gidtuss and Dahe Terah, the leader of the Sebborr, met in secret to discuss the war raging along the desert’s southern border.

  Some distance from the main buildings of LeCur, in a box canyon in the Toelachoc Mountains, moonlight stole over the stone walls and through the metal-latticed windows of a deserted prison. Squares of warm light grew brighter and more defined as Fasfro arced higher overhead. Occasional murky shapes could be seen flitting by windows and across the inner courtyard. An aura of misery cloaked the ruins in silence and deterred those who might happen upon it by accident or design from trespassing into its inner chambers.

  As though challenging the ghosts of Toelachoc Prison, a kcalo-draped figure crept forward and pressed his back against the rough stone wall. Adjusting the bundle cradled in his arms, he slipped through an open
door and made his way down a long passage. Dark eyes glistened as he paused, trapped for a moment in latticework and moonlight. A short sprint brought him to a stone staircase that led into the bowels of the prison.

  Slowing his pace, he navigated the steep stairs and made his way through the oppressive darkness of the dungeon-like lower level. Undercurrents of violence and death surged around him. He stopped to listen. Neither rodent nor insect made its presence known.

  Stepping into a narrow cell, he sat down on a rickety, metal cot and settled the swaddled bundle on his knees. A match flared. The stub of a candle sprang to light.

  The man pushed his hood back and listened again. Reflected flames sparked in his eyes as he gently unwrapped the bundle. A dark shape the size of a small baby shuddered beneath his fingers. He bent closer and stroked its back.

  “You must stay here until you heal,” he crooned softly. “There’s food and water and a clean blanket. I fashioned you a perch.”

  An ebony eye caught the light as a raven’s head tipped.

  The man carried the large bird to a rough-hewn branch several inches above the stone floor, knelt, and set it down with great tenderness. Black talons gripped it. The bird steadied itself, ruffled its feathers, and seemed to examine a wing swathed in bandages. Its unwavering eye found the man.

  “I slathered it with ointment and splinted it. You should be able to fly when it heals. You must stay here until you’re better. If you leave too soon, both you and I will die. Do you understand?”

  The raven bobbed its head.

  “I’ll be back when I can to bring fresh food and water.” He stood and blew out the candle. “Holes in the floors above will let in a bit of light when the sun rises.” He pulled his hood into place, closed the cell door behind him, and with the silence of a phantom, merged into the darkness.

  The Raven Karrew clung to the make shift perch and peered after his rescuer. A faint blur of murky white shot past the door. Ghosts of long dead prisoners flitted into the cell, bringing with them the dank chill of death. Hideous, anguished faces focused and melted away. Withdrawing his attention from his strange cellmates, Karrew ruffled his feathers against the encroaching cold and cast his mind back to the turning of his capture.