“My name is Gabrian. Not the one who came with Aurelius and pretended to be me—the real Gabrian, the one who came before and warned that this imposter would come. The imposter has stolen what he came for, and now he is looking for a way to escape Meria with it.”
“But—”
“There is only one way out of Meria, is there not?” Gabrian interrupted.
Lashyla shook her head, confused. “One could swim . . .”
“He will not. If he tries, I will follow him and catch him, or else your own maidens will do it for me.” Gabrian made his way over to Aurelius, and Lashyla followed him there, her thoughts spinning. Her confusion and wild disbelief muddled everything with a sense of unreality. She watched as the old man reached out and placed a hand against Aurelius’s pale, gray forehead and then began whispering in a strange language.
Lashyla felt a burst of hope. She sank to her knees and took Aurelius’s cold hand in hers. Wake up, Aurelius. Wake up. . . .
Then Gabrian stopped whispering and waited. After a moment, he frowned. Lashyla looked from Aurelius’s lifeless gray face to Gabrian and back again.
“Nothing’s happening!” she cried.
Gabrian shook his head, replaced his hand on Aurelius’s forehead, and began whispering once more.
Lashyla’s heart was hammering in her chest. She watched Aurelius’s cold gray lips with anxious hope, but when she looked up at Gabrian, his brow was knitted in confusion. As he finished whispering his spell, he opened his eyes and turned to her, the confusion on his face now turned to outright disbelief.
“He is fighting me.”
* * *
Aurelius saw a light in the distance. It was nothing more than a pinprick, the sole star to light a black and empty sky. In the infinite dark it was the only thing to navigate by. That light was the only thing he could see, except for his body, which was bright and oddly luminous. He waved his hands in front of his face, dazzling his eyes, then dropped them back to his sides and frowned.
For lack of better direction, Aurelius walked toward the light. He felt strange, almost weightless, as though he were dreaming. As he drew near to the light, he thought he could see shapes and colors passing through it.
It was the window to another world.
Feeling suddenly desperate to reach that window, to find something more than this nothingness, Aurelius started running. The light drew nearer, and nearer still. . . .
Then he felt something like cold hands seize him by his arms and his legs. Those hands couldn’t hold him still, but slowed him down. He felt them grab on and then slip away, only to grab hold once more. For every set of hands he escaped, another set clawed for him. Aurelius looked around wildly, trying to see what was holding on to him, but he could see nothing in the blackness. Then the whispers came. A flood of hushed and babbling voices that were impossible to understand until one of them began shouting to be heard above the rest.
“What are you still doing here, elder? Why are you disturbing our sleep?”
Aurelius tried to run faster, but it was impossible to make good headway against the clawing hands. He was moving through some sort of invisible crowd. Confused as to why he could see himself and not them, Aurelius looked down at his body once more. . . .
And gasped. There were pitch-black hands all over him, visible only as dark, hand-shaped shadows against his luminous skin. There were so many of them, slipping away, and then clawing back. Fearful of what might happen if the crowd managed to overcome him, Aurelius renewed his struggle toward the light.
“Give up! It is no use, Aurelius.”
“How do you know my name?” he asked through gritted teeth.
The unintelligible babble of voices grew louder, but one voice again rose above the rest, echoing strangely, “We know many things. . . .” Suddenly the voice became a cackling laugh in his ears. “We’ve been watching you.”
“Who are you?”
The laughter grew and multiplied until it suddenly stopped and all the voices ceased their babbling. In the aching, eerie silence which followed, Aurelius felt a sensation like heavy breathing on his neck. A shiver went through his whole body, and he tried once more to run. This time he succeeded; the hands quit clawing for him, and he made a dash for the light. . . .
Suddenly the darkness came alive with shining pairs of eyes, and he was running down a gauntlet of countless thousands. Just one voice answered his question, whispering directly into his ear: “We are the Watchers.”
Aurelius felt another cold chill. Esephalia had warned him about the Watchers. She’d said they would be coming for him. Now they were here.
“Tell us where you are, Aurelius. We can help you. . . .”
He shook his head and gave no reply. The light was very near now. He could see people in moving around within it. He had to get there!
Suddenly the cackling laughter returned, but now it was with a whole legion of voices, united in their amusement. The gauntlet of eyes watching him began to narrow, shutting out the light.
“Where do you think you are going, Aurelius? We’re not done with you yet.”
* * *
“You said he wasn’t dead!” Lashyla accused, her hands bunching to fists.
“He isn’t. Hold on, I need to try something else.”
Gabrian began whispering again; he held one hand to Aurelius’s forehead and another to his chest, and then Gabrian's hands began glowing a with soft white light. Lashyla watched anxiously, hope rising once more. Suddenly her eyes widened with astonishment as the pale gray skin of Aurelius’s face and torso became awash with a spreading wave of pink. Once the color reached his cheeks, Aurelius’s eyes shot open, and he sat up with a loud gasp. Overcome with emotion, Lashyla leapt onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him furiously on his cheeks, lips, and forehead. Her tears left smudgy streaks on his dirty face.
“You’re alive!”
“I’m . . .” Aurelius shook his head, his eyes wide with shock and horror. “I was dead?”
“Very nearly,” Gabrian said.
Aurelius blinked slowly, but his expression lost none of its horror. “They’re coming for me.”
At this Gabrian’s eyes abruptly narrowed. “Who is?”
“The Watchers.”
“They know you are here?!” Gabrian’s voice was suddenly booming. “How did this happen?”
“Malgore took us to the City of the Dead when we were hunting for the relic. We spent the night there.”
Lashyla was looking between Aurelius and Gabrian, uncomprehending. She shook her head. “I don’t understand, who are the Watchers?”
Gabrian spun away without reply and walked up to the viewport in Lashyla’s living room. He stood there, still and silent for a long moment.
“Well?” Lashyla pressed, her voice tinged with fear.
“We must hurry,” Gabrian said, not turning from the viewport. “You and Aurelius will go to the Launch and wait for me. Be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.” Gabrian turned to face them, his blue eyes glittering fiercely in the semi-darkness of the room. “I will find Malgore. When I am once more in possession of the relic, I will meet you, and we will leave Meria at once. If all goes to plan, Aurelius, you will be back in your time before the Watchers reach you.”
Aurelius nodded gravely. “And if Malgore defeats you?”
Gabrian shook his head. “He will not, for I cannot afford to fail.”
Lashyla was frowning. “I will not be ordered around by a man! Least of all one so ugly as you!”
Gabrian cocked his head in amusement and suddenly he transformed back into Martanel the handsome guardsman. “Is this better for you, oh stunning princess?” He asked, his head cocked in mock amusement. She answered with a deeper frown, and he went on, “You will do as I say, because you have no choice. If you do not escape now, your mother will discover that Aurelius is still alive. She will take him from you and send him back into the Ring.” Lashyla sucked in a quick breath, and Martanel
began nodding slowly. “Yes, and this time I will not be there to protect him. Leave now, and let no one see you, Aurelius.”
The princess hesitated, still bristling at Gabrian’s orders, but seeing she had no choice, she nodded her agreement.
“What about Reven?” Aurelius asked.
“What about him?”
“And the elf woman and Gral? We can’t leave them behind.”
Martanel shook his head sadly. “There is little we can do for them. Besides, I doubt Reven is still alive.”
Aurelius set his chin in defiance. “I’m not leaving Meria without them.”
“I cannot protect everyone!” Martanel thundered. “You will obey me, or I will make you!”
Aurelius narrowed his eyes to slits. “Now you’re sounding like Malgore.”
Martanel sighed. “Please, listen to me, Aurelius! There is far more at stake here than their lives, than your life, or mine, or any one other being’s life. If we do not get the relic back soon, Malgore will find a way to use it, and he will use it to seize control of all Mrythdom! Worse, if you do not get back to your time soon, I fear even Malgore’s plans will be of little significance. The Watchers will be a far greater threat than he ever was.”
“What do you mean, back to his time?” Lashyla asked, her eyes narrowing.
They ignored her. Aurelius asked: “I thought they just want to kill me and make me one of them?”
“Who told you that?” Gabrian asked.
“The elvish woman.”
“She’s right, but they won’t stop with you. The Watchers are all going to wake up. They’ll spread out over all the seven kingdoms, finding bodies to take or share. Thousands will die.”
“Esa said they couldn’t do it on their own.”
Gabrian shook his head slowly. “No, they can’t, but there are plenty of mages and necromancers across Mrythdom who would help them do it.”
“Fine, save the others first and I’ll go home.”
Gabrian smiled wryly. “Saving thousands of lives is not enough reason for you to abandon your friends?” His smile faded abruptly. “The Watchers are evil, Aurelius. Once they have bodies, there is no telling what harm they could do. They are elves and gremlins; they’ve been trained to use magic; and they’ve had many lifetimes to practice their arts. Even one of them coming into our world would be an unspeakable horror. Now, go! I will join you with the relic as soon as I find Malgore to take it from him.”
Aurelius scowled. “Fine.” He stood up from the couch and looked to Lashyla.
“Wait here,” she said. “I’ll dismiss my other guardsman.” As Lashyla walked off, Gabrian’s eyes suddenly widened, and he looked around quickly, as if he’d heard a noise.
“What is it?” Aurelius asked.
Gabrian held a finger to his lips. “There’s someone in here with us.”
Chapter 38
Malgore whispered a spell to give Gral’s opponents unnatural speed and stamina, and he watched with a childish little grin as Captain Dagrell and his crew flitted around the giant troll, throwing their tridents and firing bows. Even with the endless opportunity their unnatural speed gave them to get past Gral’s guard, they were like so many flies buzzing around him, their tridents and arrows all but bouncing off his thick hide. Finally Gral caught one man by his leg, tossed him flailing and screaming into the air, and then cleaved him in half with his massive sword.
The crowd went wild with delight.
Despite their speed, one by one Gral caught his opponents and dispensed with them, but by the time he hoisted the captain up by his neck in one mighty fist, Gral was swaying on his feet. He looked like a giant pin cushion, but the pins were arrows, and he was drenched in steaks of blood that were both his own and that of his opponents. Gral ended the fight with a squeeze, and then tossed the captain aside. Dagrell’s body landed in the sand with a meaty thump.
The crowd was relatively silent for a moment, but then Gral raised his arms in victory and roared, and the crowd answered with a roar of its own, quickly drowning him out.
Malgore frowned. So much for tying loose ends. Gral was harder to kill than he’d thought. He hadn’t wanted to draw too much attention to himself by giving Gral’s opponents a more significant edge. As it was, his efforts may have been too conspicuous. . . . Malgore decided to check on his enemy, to make sure Gabrian wasn’t tracking him. He whispered the necessary spell and cast himself out among the crowds, heading for the queen’s balcony. There he searched among the guards, passing over first one set and then the other. But the one whose face Gabrian had stolen was not there. Suddenly worried, Malgore exerted more of his power into the spell and began whipping through the crowds at lightning speed. He followed the weak but fading traces of the spell Gabrian was using to disguise himself. The trail led down into the ring, to the exact spot below the coral cliffs where the sand was still marked with the impression of Aurelius’s impact. From there he followed the trace along a scattered trail of footprints, out of the ring, down a corridor . . . all the way to Lashyla’s quarters. Once there, he passed straight through the doors . . . and almost lost his concentration on the spell.
Aurelius! There he was, alive and well, standing beside the princess and arguing with Gabrian. Malgore drew near, trying to minimize his presence. He stopped and ducked down behind the couch to listen. . . .
“. . . are evil, Aurelius. Once they have bodies, there is no telling what harm they could do. They are elves and gremlins; they’ve been trained to use magic; and they’ve had many lifetimes to practice their arts. Even one of them coming into our world would be an unspeakable horror. Now, go! I will join you with the relic as soon as I find Malgore to take it from him.”
“Fine.”
“Wait here. I’ll dismiss my other guardsman.”
The discussion ended there, and Malgore heard footsteps. He peeked over the top of the couch to look. Lashyla was leaving the group, heading for the door. . . . Then Gabrian saw him, his pale blue eyes widening. Malgore ducked behind the couch once more, cursing his stupidity.
“What is it?” Aurelius asked.
Malgore broke the spell instantly and suddenly he was back in the arena amidst the cheering fans. He was just in time to watch Reven rip the last of his two opponents apart with claws and teeth. The crowd began to boo, and Reven, in full wolf form, arched his back, tossed his head back, and howled.
Malgore stood up from the stands and began making his way down the row where he’d taken his seat. A few vestals that thought they knew him asked what was wrong. He rubbed his stomach and said he didn’t feel so well. Their curiosity died in smirks and grins. They expected such weakness from Cardale, the puny man whose face Malgore wore.
Malgore hurried from the arena, his heart began pounding with excitement. He’d found the opportunity he’d been waiting for! Gabrian had just told the princess and Aurelius to meet him at the Launch.
Malgore grinned and rushed through the twisting corridors, up and down stairs until he reached the half-flooded lower levels of the city. Here he was safe from prying eyes, so he allowed his disguise to fade and his features once more to become those of an old man. Now he whispered a spell of concealment, so if Gabrian were using magic to find him, it would be all but impossible. He hoped that would buy him enough time to reach the Launch.
Suddenly Malgore heard the splashing footsteps of people rushing up behind him. He felt a sharp spike of adrenaline, and he turned to look, but saw only a sharp curve in the corridor. Whoever it was, they were around the bend, still out of sight. Not wanting to use a spell to discover who they were, Malgore simply doubled his pace, hoping that would be enough. He considered himself in good shape despite his age, but without magic to grant him speed and strength, he was soon gasping for air, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up the pace. He couldn’t hear the sounds of pursuit over the splashing of his own footsteps, so he stopped and risked another glance over his shoulder. As soon as he stopped, he heard again the distant splashing
of approaching footsteps.
Malgore hurried on, forcing himself to continue despite his burning lungs. The corridor branched. He knew from his nighttime explorations of the city that he should go left to reach the Launch, but he went right instead and continued down the corridor until he could hide safely behind an overgrown bulge of golden coral. There he waited until he heard voices to accompany the splashing footsteps.
“What if Gabrian loses? Or if the guards tell your mother and she comes looking for me before he arrives?”
A moment later, “These pearls will ensure the guards’ silence.”
“You’re going to bribe them?”
“They would have to risk their lives in the Ring to make even half as much. They will do whatever I ask in exchange.”
“I’ll bet . . .”
“We mustn’t wait longer than the night. If Gabrian doesn’t come by morning, we must leave without him.”
“Yeah . . . I was thinking the same.”
The voices and splashing footfalls retreated into the distance and then Malgore snuck out of hiding, a broad smile upon his face. He’d recognized those voices. A plan occurring to him now, Malgore began to follow in their wake, but he kept his pace to a leisurely stroll. They would welcome him with open arms when he arrived at the Launch, and then they’d all leave Meria together.
Perhaps the elder would still be of some use after all.
* * *
Aurelius and Lashyla encountered no one in the halls. Everyone was in the Ring watching the challenges. Lashyla led them down into the under levels of the city, and soon they were splashing through the flooded corridors as they ran to the Launch. Aurelius’s disguise was coming undone, and despite his best efforts to hold it in place, he was trailing a long cloak behind him as he ran. After only a short while, Aurelius had to stop to catch his breath.
Lashyla stopped beside him and frowned. “How can you—”
Suddenly, Aurelius held up a hand for silence. “Shhh . . .” He’d thought he’d heard splashing sounds coming from up ahead. . . . but now that he was listening for them, they were gone.
Mrythdom: Game of Time Page 35
