The UnFolding Collection Three

by S. K. Randolph

  A gentle knock ended her solitude. She opened the door to find an anxious DeoNyte priestess on the threshold.

  “A message came from Teva via Dom via Tibin. The Mocendi are withdrawing from Idronatti. Teva feels something important must be happening elsewhere. Also, Ashor mentioned that a Mocendi came through the portal right after Dom returned to the shoppe and went back almost immediately. He’s worried something may have happened to Dom.”

  “Thank you, Traeh. I’ll see what I can discover. Let me know if you hear anything else.”

  The priestess nodded and withdrew. Almiralyn took up her position by the fountain. Before she could ask about Dom, the water steadied and TheLise’s face emerged on the surface.

  “Almiralyn, it is good to see you.”

  “And you, TheLise.”

  The fountain zoomed out to show Nomed, Allynae, and Somay. Nomed spoke first. “Hello, Mira. We thought we should share news and decide what is the most important next step.”

  When at last the exchange of information was complete and a general plan was in place, Almiralyn returned to her bench to contemplate what she had heard. Allynae’s reaction to their mother’s appearance was much as she had expected—relief, frustration, a longing to have seen her. Roween’s interference with the rejoining of Nissasa’s body and quintessence aroused pity for the man who would be forever a child. Her description of the journal, Sparrow’s painting, and what Relevart had shared in the fountain had left everyone thoughtful. She had mentioned that she felt sure Wolloh had been awarded the ranking of VarTerel and had finished with the message from Dom and Ashor’s concern.

  Her information about the whereabouts of the children had given them what they needed to make plans. Somay’s concern for Esán’s health was worrisome. The boy would need all his strength for what lay ahead.

  Silence in Elcaro’s Eye roused her from her thoughts. Hurrying to the fountain, she saw Dom, bound hand and foot, in a room furnished in various shades of blue. Across an impressive desk, a good-looking, blond Mocendi reclined in a leather chair.

  Thorlu Tangorra, how did you manage to extricate yourself from Corvus’s bonds so soon?

  Thorlu’s studied gaze rested on Dom. “I don’t need to tell you that you are in an unenviable position, Dominee. You are the guardian of the mirror portal, hence you know your way around Myrrh. You know Almiralyn. I am more than certain you know the whereabouts of the Evolsefil Crystal.” The studied gaze changed to a cold stare. “So, will you tell me what I need to know, or do I rip it from your mind piece by piece until you have no mind left?”

  Dom grimaced. “My life has been a mixture of delights and regrets, but I’d rather not end it a madman. I know everything you need to know, and will share it quite happily.” He held up his hands. “I’m too old and too tired to fight you. Untie me, and we can talk like men with a common cause.” His face twisted in pain. “You don’t have to dig, Thorlu.”

  The Mocendi came around the desk and glared down at him. “You do anything stupid—”

  “I betrayed Almiralyn once. Why should I feel squeamishy about doin’ it again?”

  Thorlu untied the knots that bound his hands. “Your feet stay tied.” He sat on the edge of the desk. “Talk.”

  Dom rubbed his wrists and picked up his hat, where it had been thrown on the floor at his feet. He worked the battered brim with arthritic fingers. “What do you want first?”

  “Where is Almiralyn?”

  He played a spot on the brim back and forth and back and forth. “She’s in Myrrh.”

  “Don’t play games, Dom. Where in Myrrh?”

  Dom seemed to contemplate the question. Again, he fidgeted with the hat.

  Thorlu yanked it from his fingers and tossed it out of reach. “Answer my question, old man, or I’ll start harvesting.”

  Dom peered over his spectacles, winked, and licked a white powder from his palm. “Get yourself another snitch, Th-th…” His body convulsed, fluid gurgled in his throat. He pitched forward, a motionless heap beneath the toppled chair.

  Almiralyn gripped the fountain. “Dom, what have you done?”

  Thorlu jerked the door open and ordered a young, low ranking Mocendi into the room. “Cut him loose, and wake him up.”

  The younger man knelt, cut the ropes at Dom’s ankles, and pushed the chair aside. Fingers fumbled for his pulse. The man shook his head. “Dead.”

  Thorlu kicked the prone figure. “Leave him. We have more important things to do.” A flash of light left Dom’s body alone in the room. The image faded.

  Almiralyn calmed herself. “Teva.” Her cousin’s face rose to the fountain’s surface. Almiralyn placed an image of Dom in her head. No words were exchanged. Teva nodded and was gone.

  The image in the fountain blurred and steadied

  Teva and Lenadi arrived in the apartment in Domlenah Uptown Blue to find it empty but for Dom’s sprawled body. Lenadi picked up the discarded hat. Teva felt for a pulse. When she found none, she opened Dom’s mouth and inhaled. A stringent smell assailed her nostrils. A nod to her companion and the three arrived in the infirmary in Tower Five.

  Lenadi inspected the brim of the hat. White powder coated his fingers. “Think I’ll have this tested.” He nodded to Jordett as he left.

  The Major rested a hand on the bed railing. “Is he dead?”

  Teva looked down at the wrinkled bluish, skin, sunken eyes, and unmoving chest. “To the untrained eye, he looks dead. He appears to have no pulse, nor can I detect a heartbeat. What gives me hope is that I smelled a hint of timatie on his breath.”

  “Timatie?”

  Teva eyed the old man. “It’s an herbal mixture that creates a semblance of death.”

  “If he took this timatie, how long will he be out?”

  “It really depends on the strength of the dose. If it was too strong, he may never wake up. Lenadi has taken a sample to the lab for testing. Hopefully, he only took enough to keep him unconscious for a few hours. Until we know more…” She shrugged and walked to the door. “Others will care for Dom. We have work to do.”

  Jordett took one last look at the still figure. “Don’t die on us, old man.”

  A cascade of droplets broke the image into pieces. Almiralyn inwardly thanked her cousin and snapped her fingers. A new picture began a slow ascent from the bottom of the bowl.

  Ira stood on the deck of Melback . His turn at the helm had been uneventful. Although the sky’s cloud cover remained an oppressive blanket overhead, the storm had dissipated. Ostradio’s current chart showed the swirl of eddy pools behind them. Optimism blossomed. Gregos thought they would make it to ZaltRaca by mid-turning on the morrow. Ira would be glad to walk on solid ground again.

  Des emerged from the cabin with Shyllee at his heels. The RewFaaran claimed he had been fighting sea sickness. Ira thought it was more likely fear. Who wouldn’t be afraid if they carried Rikell, the Mindeco, inside them?

  “Des. How ya feeling?” Ira patted Shyllee’s head. “Hey, girl.”

  “Alright. The Mindeco is quiet, so I don’t have to fight so hard.” He gazed ahead. “How much longer?”

  “We’ll be there tomorrow. Where are Torgin and Yaro?”

  “They’re studying the compass and sketching charts for Gregos and Tamosh.” He shaded his eyes and looked up at the watch perch. “I think Elf really likes it up there.”

  “Strangeness.” Elf’s message held a tinge of fright.

  Ira tipped his head back, caught his breath, and whispered, “Get the Captain.” He scanned the sky. “Fast.”

  Overhead, the clouds had turned a strange color. Gray tinged with scarlet surged and seethed into a circular pattern that became more and more opaque.

  Tamosh followed his brother on deck. “Another portal?”

  Gregos countered, “Not a good sign. We have nowhere to go, and I doubt we’ll like what’s up there. Elf,” he called, “get yourself down here.”

  Elf began a scrambled descent, paused, listened, and scram
bled faster.

  The word ‘Mocendi’ screamed in Ira’s mind. “The Mocendi are up there.”

  Yaro’s Pentharian eyes flashed to the sky and back. “I will shape a vulture. I can take two boys and come back. Hurry.” He shifted. Torgin climbed on his back and reached for Des.

  The RewFaaran cowered away and started to shake. “Can’t. Ira go.”

  Ira put an arm around his shoulder. “Won’t leave you, Des.”

  Gregos gave Yaro a sharp slap on the side. “Go”

  The vulture shot into the air. Ira gave Desirol a sideways glance, then watched its ascent. Torgin, flattened against its neck, was almost invisible.

  The water in Elcaro’s Eye refocused on the living room in the cottage on ZaltRaca, where Henri assumed the demeanor of Renn Whalend.

  Corvus’ spider form clung to a web in the dark corner of the room. Below, Brie’s presence was undetectable. Renn faced a haughty Vygel Vintrusie. The gaunt angles of his face thinned to a sneer.

  “We have located Melback . Soon your son and his friends will be in our hands. The MasTer has sent me to bring you to him. Do you know what that means?”

  Renn pressed trembling lips together and shook her head.

  “It means that you will never see Idronatti again.”

  She stepped back, widening the gap between them.

  His longer stride brought him to her side. A hand gripped her arm.

  The spider dropped on a silken thread. Corvus materialized and stared at the emptied room. Almiralyn’s niece and her aunt were beyond his reach.

  A quick scan of the area indicated the wards around the cottage were no longer in place. He threw open a window, shaped a laridae, and streaked over the erika field and down to the beach. Landing in the midst of a group of chatting gulls, he searched the sky, cliffs, and beach for anything or anyone suspicious. When at last he felt it was safe, he flew to the recess, shielded his presence, and teleported to the boathome.

  Cayled and Bibeed gave a surprised gasp.

  Torgin’s mother’s hand went to her throat. “Oh, dear. Corvus.”

  Esán’s stool fell with a muffled crash as he came to his feet. “What’s wrong?” He stood stock still, his concentration total. “They’re gone. Both of them, Brie and Henri. Where?”

  Corvus answered, “Vygel took them.”

  Esán rounded the end of the table. “Don’t just stand there, Corvus. We have to go after them.”

  “We will when we know where they are. Right now we have to warn Melback’s crew that the Mocendi are on the way. Cayled and Bibeed, I am entrusting Renn to your care. Do not leave here. Renn, I will do my best to bring Torgin. Barring that, I will be back for you.”

  He put a hand on Esán’s shoulder. Gambelii oaks and thick-trunked pines took the place of the cave. “You alright, Esán?”

  “Yes.” His anger exploded. “Why did you let Vintrusie take them?”

  Corvus sighed. “I wasn’t quick enough. Let’s not make that mistake again. I need to send a message to Elf and Ira.” He shut his eyes, found their minds, and returned his attention to Esán.

  “We’ll leave here as raven’s. Vygel knew that someone watched Torgin’s mother. I don’t know what their plan—”

  “Vygel is gone. I’m teleporting. No one is here to sense our departure.”

  “If anyone is still—”

  “My friends are on that boat.” Esán stepped beyond his reach. “You fly.”

  He flashed from sight. Corvus shook his head in frustration. “Not the best time to behave like an adolescent, Esán.” Shaping Karrew, he teleported.

  Almiralyn leaned closer as a new picture formed.

  The crew of Melback cluster together as a rush of air hit the deck. Clouds parted. Like a mouth opening wide, a scarlet and black orifice spun into view. An ear-splitting roar pierced air. The sails flapped, lines licked the masts, the wheel spun. Melback jerked and plunged. Crew and dog scrambled to stay upright. Shyllee’s frantic bark joined the chaos. The boat tipped from starboard to port as Esán materialized and grabbed Ira’s arm. The stentorian sound roared louder. Melback bucked, and torn from the sea, rose into the vast vortex.

  A profound silence blanketed the Sea of Minusa. The two-masted vessel reappeared, suspended in the gaping mouth. Clouds spiraled into the portal’s center. An explosion of wind and sound sent the sailboat hurtling seaward. Two men leapt from the deck. The portal vanished. Melback slammed the water with a shattering crack. Gregos and Tamosh plunged feet first into the sea.

  Almiralyn fought to slow her hammering heart, to inhale air into lungs that had emptied with her shout of denial. The door to Veersuni flew open. A frantic Sparrow ran to the fountain and stared.

  On the Eye’s surface, a raven swept over two men clinging to the splintered stern of the sailboat on which the name Melback was carved in bold, block letters.

  “I just painted a vortex with a boat rising into its center. The children were onboard. Then the boat was falling with no children. Oh, Almiralyn, I was hoping I was wrong. What now, and what about Torgin?”

  Like the blink of an eye the fountain cleared and a different image snapped into view.

  Torgin clung to Yaro with all his strength. The huge vulture pressed powerful wings against the air, carrying him away from Melback and his friends. Torgin’s feelings were mixed—relief and guilt in equal parts.

  A sudden and marked increase in the wind tugging at his body made him crane his neck to scan the sky. The blood in his veins turned to ice. High overhead, a spinning vortex yawned wider and wider. A huge, winged creature swooped through. Torgin leaned forward and yelled, “Astican!”

  Yaro’s vulture wings folded close to his sides. Torgin gasped as they dropped straight toward the sea. Moments before impact, the wings unfurled, stopped the speed of descent, and bore them into a cleft between pine-covered mountains. A familiar specter blocked their path. With nowhere to go, the vulture landed, his wicked beak snapping the air. The specter floated to the ground, cold eyes fixed on Torgin. “Not a sound.” It shot upward into the path of the searching Astican.

  Torgin slid to the ground. Yaro shifted, his gaze following the ascent of the death shadow. With calculated precision, Wodash od DerTah rammed into the side of the approaching creature and sent it crashing to the forest floor. A dazed Astican scrambled to regain its footing. Terror twisted cherubic features. It crumpled it to its knees, pleading for its life. Wodash’s unpleasant laugh drowned the words. Gripping it by its leather-scaled neck, he blew a frigid breath, sucked the energy from its body until, depleted of its life essence, the Astican fell to the ground in a frozen heap.

  Satiated, the death shadow floated through the trees and hovered in front of them. Crimson pupils pulsed in cold, white eyes. Thin, blue lips attempted a smile. “I come as a friend. Wolloh sent me. It appears I arrived just in time for you, Torgin Whalend and Yaro the Pentharian. The others?”

  Wolloh walked from the trees. “The Mocendi have taken them. Thank you, Wodash od DerTah, for your timely interference.”

  The death shadow bowed his head. “It is my pleasure to serve.”

  Torgin studied the High DiMensioner. Not only is his hair now white, but he seems taller, fuller. His good eye gleams in a new way. He carries a staff instead of a cane.

  As though aware of the scrutiny and the thoughts, Wolloh’s gaze rested on his face. “The Unfolding is at work in my life, Torgin. In my journey, like yours, it has left its mark.” He held up his staff. “I carry the staff of the VarTerel. It is in that capacity that I come to you. It is as the VarTerel of the Inner Universe that I ask you to guide me through MittKeer to TreBlaya in search of your friends.”

  Torgin’s heart fluttered. “I don’t know MittKeer or the way through it.”

  “You are the steward of the Compass of Ostradio. It will show you the way.” He turned to Yaro. “Corvus, works to help Gregos and Tamosh. Please do what you can to assist him. Tell him to expect Relevart soon. Then take Renn Whalend to Al
miralyn. Her return to Idronatti is vital.”

  “I am honored to serve the VarTerel.” Yaro touched his palm to Wolloh’s before offering it to Torgin. “As your heart brother, I swear to care for your mother as I care for you.”

  A lump rose in Torgin’s throat. “Please tell her I love her.” He rested his hand on Yaro’s palm. “Thank you.”

  The VarTerel angled his uninjured profile to the death shadow. “Wodash, if you chose to do so, you will accompany Torgin and me.”

  Wodash replied, “I sense a warning in your words.”

  Wolloh’s distorted smile appeared. “You are correct.”

  Torgin looked from one to the other. A message seemed to pass between them.

  The VarTerel laid a hand on Torgin’s arm and raised his staff. Wodash floated to his side. The mountains of TheDa vanished.

  Torgin doubled over in pain. His stomach churned; his head throbbed. The crystal tip of Wolloh’s staff tapped his forehead. Pain fled, leaving only awe at the endless expanse of sky.

  Yaro shaped the vulture and soared back the way he had come. The Sea of Minusa came into view, its surface sparkling with the diamond light of the mid-turning sun. Swooping lower, he scanned the spot where he had last seen Melback . In a swath of debris, he spotted two men and the raven Karrew clinging to the wreckage of the stern. Tamosh oozed blood from a cut on his head. Gregos cradled an arm next to his chest. To one side, Yaro’s sharp eye picked out Torgin’s flute in its sheepskin case rolling up and down with the waves. Swooping, he caught the strap in his talons and flew over what remained of the stern.

  Karrew soared upward and plucked the flute from his grasp. Yaro felt the raven land on his back; then Corvus’ added weight.