by Mel Odom
“Can you go to the other sections of the book now?” For a moment, Juhg thought he had gone too far.
The creature glared at him. “No. Until I sensed you so nearby, I didn’t know if the other sections still existed.”
“They do,” Juhg said.
“I can’t feel them. Only the two that you now possess.” The oozing face took on an anthracite appearance. “And I mean to have them back for Lord Kharrion as I promised him I would do when he promised me my chance at vengeance.”
Juhg’s mind raced. Why couldn’t the Slither feel the other sections of The Book of Time? That had to be important.
“Wait,” Juhg said, backing up across the slippery permafrost.
“No. Tell me how you brought me here. I haven’t been able to find this place … for a very long time.”
“You haven’t been able to find it?” Juhg shook his head. “This place doesn’t exist anymore.”
“You lie!” The creature sprang forward and seized Juhg around the throat, lifting him clear of the ground. “I see this place before me!”
“We’re not here,” Juhg rasped. “This isn’t real.” At least, he didn’t think it was real. Unless they’d traveled back in time, which the mantis had told him was impossible unless The Book of Time was made whole again. Craugh’s own testimony led him to believe that as well.
In an eyeblink, they were back in the underground volcano cavern.
Startled, the Slither snarled. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” Juhg said.
His companions still fought for their lives, all of them battered and bloody.
Suddenly, Juhg understood why the Slither still believed Lord Kharrion to be alive, and why all the dwarven “ghosts” wore clothing that stretched across generations. “You’re dead,” he told the Slither.
“How can I be dead?” the Slither demanded. “I’m holding you by your throat. One squeeze, halfer, and it’s you who are dead.”
“You’re a memory,” Juhg gasped. “Just a memory inadvertently kept alive by this section of The Book of Time.” That had to be the answer. It was the only one he could come up with, the only idea that fit all the existing circumstances.
The gemstones pulsed in Juhg’s hand.
Suddenly, the cavern faded away and they were once more standing outside on the mountain. Juhg glanced around for the others, wondering if he had returned to the cavern. But he hadn’t. He still stood on the mountain. Without warning, the mountain shook beneath them. Almost immediately afterward, the volcano broke free from its prison of earth and spewed high into the sky, filling the air with soot and ash and burning lava stone.
In the next few minutes, the horrendous thunder of the volcano exploding washed away every other sound. The Slither screamed at Juhg and looked like he was tightening his grip around his neck. But Juhg already felt the strength of the creature’s grip fading.
Cracks opened up in the mountain as well as the surrounding land. Dwarves ran for cover but there was no safe harbor in the lands that had been theirs for generations. Sheets of flame fell from the sky. Smoke and ash poisoned the air and filled lungs, causing suffocation if the victims weren’t burned to death outright. The stream that had provided drinking water as well as a resource for their forges had become a boiling death. Chasms opened in the valley and swallowed down dwarves, animals, and equipment in fiery gulps.
“I … I remember,” the Slither mouthed, and Juhg read his muzzle instead of hearing him because the rolling thunder continued. “Old Ones preserve me!”
The ground fell away from the Slither, and he fell with it. Juhg fell as well, rushing down into the yawning mouth of the volcano. He screamed, but he didn’t even hear himself. He flailed his arms and legs, dodging huge boulders that fell with him.
Below, the Slither changed from the creature’s form to that of a dwarf. He seemed almost at peace as he dropped into the bubbling molten lava.
Juhg closed his eyes, not wanting to see the end coming, knowing that somehow the mantis was wrong or had lied, because there was no way he was going to visit the In-Betweenness again.
Juhg felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Scribbler,” Raisho asked in a quiet voice. “Juhg. Are ye all right?”
Gasping for air, still feeling the heat of the volcano all around him, Juhg opened his eyes. He was on the stone floor of the cavern, not falling into the open mouth of a raging volcano. He held the brown gemstones tightly in his fist.
Slowly, Juhg looked around. The cavern was empty except for his companions.
“They’re gone,” Jassamyn said. She looked worse for the wear. Blood stained her face. “Do you know why?”
With Raisho’s help, Juhg rose to his feet. His knees still trembled and he had trouble believing he was still alive.
“They were memories,” Juhg croaked. His throat felt raw and bruised from the Slither’s grip. “Just memories.”
“What do you mean?” Craugh asked.
Juhg held up the brown gemstones in his hand. “They were just memories, held trapped here by the power in these gemstones. This section of The Book of Time holds the power to look into the past. Lord Kharrion broke The Book of Time into pieces here. When the Slither attacked me, I saw his memories of where he had lived.”
“He lived here?” Cobner asked.
“Once upon a time, he was a dwarf. Lord Kharrion altered his form and gave him powers to become The Book of Time’s guardian. He also gave him the ability to walk to the different sections of the book without crossing the space in between.”
“What happened to the Slither?” Jassamyn asked. She held her hand up and the fluttering draca landed there. “And to the … ‘ghosts.’? I suppose they were memories as well.”
“They had to be,” Juhg said. “Just memories of dwarves who had lived here and left their lives marked on the stones of this chamber.” He took a deep breath. “While I was in the Slither’s memory—I don’t think we were actually back in the past—”
“You never left this room, Apprentice,” Craugh said. “You remained on the floor fighting the Slither. Till it, and the others, disappeared.”
“I helped him remember and I believe that was what took him away from here,” Juhg said. “I was with him when the Molten Forge Mountains exploded and killed everyone here.” Tears slid down his face as he remembered the dwarven men, women, and children who had perished in that onslaught. “And, Old Ones help me, now I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.”
“Did you sleep much?”
Crawling from his tent, Juhg saw that Jassamyn tended the morning campfire. Dawn had come for a time, but the shadows of the trees still stretched long and tall over them. The impenetrable fog that lingered over the Smoking Marshes was only a little less so this morning, but it was the brightest day Juhg had seen since arriving there.
“Some,” Juhg answered. He tried to work the aches and pains from his body, but the task proved too painful to complete or even pursue with much enthusiasm or vigor.
“You didn’t sound like you rested.”
“Not overmuch.” Juhg peered around the campsite and saw Cobner and Raisho readying the horses.
“I’m afraid it’s going to be a breakfast in the saddle,” the elven maid said. “Craugh is in a hurry to go.”
“I’m in no mood to linger here either,” Juhg said. But it would have been good to rest for a little while.
After they had made their way back out of the caves last night, with Cobner carrying the cornerstone which he swore he would see to a safe place, they had returned to camp. Craugh and Juhg had examined the gemstones till they could no longer keep their eyes open. As with the blue gemstones, no one else could touch the brown gemstones. The wizard had tried touching them, but at the sight of sparks, he’d given up his efforts and accepted that he could only examine them visually.
Further experimentation with the brown gemstones revealed that Juhg could indeed look back into the past. He saw himself and the Gra
ndmagister stealing through the marshes all those years ago, and he visited parts of his friends’ past—but that had seemed somehow wrong and he’d quickly given it up.
Craugh, whose past Juhg would have liked to explore, could not be reached. Every time Juhg tried, and he’d tried again only moments ago, he’d gotten a splitting headache. Coupled with the aches that already filled him, he’d allowed himself to be quickly dissuaded.
Juhg had also tried to visit the mantis’s past and had failed at that. Since the In-Betweenness insisted on being past, present, and future all rolled into one, Juhg supposed he couldn’t see into the mantis’s past because the creature really didn’t have one.
Jassamyn handed Juhg a cup of stew she’d made from crayfish she’d taken from the marsh, and wild vegetables and greens and herbs she’d found in the forest. She’d also picked a bag full of fresh blackberries that were ripe and sweet.
They broke camp within minutes and began retracing their path out of the Smoking Marshes.
Seated on his horse, leaving the reins wrapped around the saddle pommel and trusting the animal to simply follow Craugh’s horse ahead of it, Juhg worked in his journal. Over the years of traveling with the Grandmagister, he’d learned to work almost anywhere, and the metronomic measure of the horse’s movements was not much worse than working aboardship.
Hours passed but he scarcely noticed them, drawn deeply into his work and knowing that still so much work remained ahead of him. Finally, though, he was done. He put away his charcoal and waited till Craugh finally, mercifully, called a break to rest the horses and to prepare a brief meal.
Raisho cared for the horses, leading them to water and holding onto the reins. Closer to the outer perimeter of the marshlands now, the sun shone through in places. They’d stopped at one of those places.
The young sailor stood with his face turned up to the sun, just enjoying the warm heat for a moment. Juhg walked over to him but was afraid to interrupt.
“Ye’re too polite, scribbler,” Raisho said. “Ye stay quiet like that, like ye don’t want nobody to know ye’re there, why ye’re like to be waitin’ a powerful long time.”
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” Juhg had struggled with how best to approach his friend with the news that he had.
Raisho gazed at him and shook his head. “Of course ye can.”
Juhg hesitated.
“Out with it. Ye take too long to spit it out an’ Craugh’ll be ditherin’ about needin’ to mount up an’ get movin’ again.”
“I looked back into your past last night,” Juhg confessed.
Raisho laughed and shook his head. “I expect ye were properly mortified at what ye saw. I done some things here an’ there that I don’t even want to remember.”
“It’s about your parents, Raisho,” Juhg said.
Raisho looked at him, clearly not understanding.
“I found them,” Juhg said. “I looked back into your past and saw when you were taken from your mother’s bosom.”
That was another memory he thought he would never forget. Early in the morning when he’d found that twist of past, he’d been alone. Seeing the baby taken from his mother had hurt. Even now he felt the beginnings of tears.
“Ye saw me parents?” Raisho whispered hoarsely.
“I did.” Juhg opened his journal to display the two people he had labored to draw that morning.
Raisho took the journal in shaking hands. He stared at the people, then touched the faces ever so lightly.
Juhg started to tell him that the drawings were in charcoal and fragile, but he didn’t. If he needed to, he knew he could recreate the drawings from memory. “Your da’s name is Tranth. Your ma’s name is Machia.”
Tears streaked Raisho’s cheeks. Embarrassed, he wiped them away. “‘Is’? Ye said, ‘Is’?”
Nodding, Juhg said, “They’re alive, Raisho. You have two brothers and a sister as well. They were born after your parents escaped slavery. Your da is a fisherman—”
“That’s why I have the sea in me blood,” Raisho said excitedly. “I come by it honest. An’ me ma? What about her?”
“She’s a healer.”
“They’re alive,” Raisho whispered.
“Not only that,” Juhg said. “I know where they are. I can tell you how to find them. I know the place and the village and the house. I’ve seen them.”
Raisho stared at the drawings. “I want to see them. I want to see what I come from.”
“I know. That’s why I wanted to tell you.” Juhg paused, knowing Craugh wouldn’t be happy with what he was about to say. “No one would blame you if you decided to leave us and go there.”
For a long time, Raisho stared at the drawings. “I can’t, scribbler. Not until we finish this. I started this with ye, I’ll finish it the same way. When I go to see them, I’ll take ye with me.” He grinned under his tears. “Ain’t no other way they’re gonna believe me.”
Juhg smiled back at his friend, but he hoped they only lived so long.
“What about yer own da an’ ma an’ siblin’s?” Raisho asked. “Did ye find them as well?”
“I did,” Juhg replied, feeling the cold pain ache deep within him. The memories he’d found had tortured him all during the night, giving birth to the nightmares that had followed Kim into his sleep.
“Where are they?”
Juhg had to force his words through his tight throat. “They’re dead. They all died in the mines. Before the Grandmagister rescued me.” He paused. “I have no family.”
Releasing the horses’ reins, Raisho dropped to his knees and hugged Juhg fiercely. “Ye do, Juhg. Ye got me. I swear as long as I live that ye’ll always have family. Ye are me brother. Me heart an’ yers, we beat together.”
Juhg hugged his friend—his brother—back and hoped that they lived long enough for Raisho to see his family. They were heading into the Drylands, and that was one of the most dangerous places Juhg had ever been.
19
Red Sails
For nine days, Juhg traveled by horseback with his companions. They pushed as fast and as hard as they dared for the Drylands and the third piece of The Book of Time that was supposed to be in the Oasis of Bleached Bones.
On the morning of the tenth day, they reached Fringe.
The town seemed proud of its reputation as the last town on the west side of the Drylands. Part of the municipal decor consisted of skulls of every type hanging on the shops and public buildings. Not a few of them were goblinkin skulls (and most of those were gathered at the taverns and inns). All of the skulls served as a grim reminder that hospitality and comfort of any kind ended at Fringe.
After spending so much time in the wilderness and seated on horses, Craugh relented and allowed them to spend a night at a proper inn, which he paid for. Raisho and Juhg roomed together, while Cobner and Craugh took a room. Jassamyn got a room of her own between them to ensure her safety.
In addition to being known as the last chance for supplies and comfort, Fringe was also known as being a lawless place. Smugglers and thieves tended to stay in town when trouble was looking for them elsewhere. Of course, they usually started trouble in Fringe before leaving. The Peacekeepers in Fringe took a harsh line with lawbreakers and three or four of them could usually be found hanging around town, literally, in various stages of decomposition.
Craugh got them up early the next morning, drawing groans and protests from all. Over breakfast, the wizard gave them assignments.
“Cobner,” Craugh said, “you and I will see about transportation.”
“Horses won’t carry us across that desert,” Cobner said. “We’ll have to use sandsails.”
“Sandsails?” Raisho looked up. “A ship or a boat?”
“Something like that,” Cobner said. “You’ll see soon enough.”
“I could go with ye,” Raisho volunteered, obviously curious about the craft.
“You’re going to be arranging for supplies,” Craugh said. “You’ll get the fo
od.”
Raisho scowled and turned his attention to his breakfast plate piled high with sausages and fruits.
“Jassamyn,” Craugh went on, “we’ll need more arrows for your bow. And get whatever else you think we’ll need in the way of weapons. We’re facing inhospitable land as well as ferocious beasts and goblinkin.” He dropped a bag of gold into her hand.
“What about me?” Juhg asked, realizing the wizard wasn’t about to assign him a task.
“Get your journals caught up, apprentice,” Craugh said. “And see if you can get those gemstones to impart any further knowledge regarding Wick or what we’ll be facing in the next few days. Our race is nearly run, but the way hasn’t gotten any easier.”
Silently, Juhg nodded. He wished that using the gemstones was as easy as the wizard made it sound.
During the course of the day as he worked on his journals, Juhg also used the gemstones. With the blue gemstones, he looked in on Greydawn Moors and found that the island defenders had actually made headway against the goblinkin.
During his survey of Greydawn Moors, Juhg’s attention was caught by a young dweller working among the ruins of the Library. All of the repair work on the Vault of All Known Knowledge had ground to a halt with the arrival of the goblinkin siege forces. Caught for a moment by the jarring image of the dweller working on a journal next to the broken heap of rock that had been the main Library tower, Juhg studied the figure.
The white Novice robes marked the dweller as a Librarian. Then the features registered and Juhg knew he was watching Dockett Butterblender, one of the more promising of the new Librarians. In fact, the Grandmagister had been on the verge of promoting Dockett to Third Level Librarian and placing him under Juhg’s tutelage when Juhg had decided to leave the island.
Peering more closely through the magic of the gemstone, Juhg saw that Dockett was working on a sketch of a nighttime battle off the coast of Greydawn Moors. Varrowyn was easily recognizeable.
