“It would seem I could learn a thing or two from those dragons; Gossamer especially. I mean look, can you tell where that tree stabbed me?”
Gregory inspected Elizabeth’s smooth flesh, first with his eyes, and then with his hands. As his caresses expanded, the witch snuggled closer making sure the Lascion knew she was ready for a little protecting.
***
Dawn found the two awake and rested and concerned about the German.
“I’ve been thinking,” Gregory began. “The most obvious place to intercept us will be at the black hole. If I were him, I’d take my stand there. Even without the Hermadolin magic, if he has the Lantian books, his place in power will be assured. I’m thinking that’s where he’ll try to get the books and keep us from returning.”
Elizabeth didn’t bother pointing out that Haushofer likely knew he couldn’t leave them alive on this side of the portal. She couldn’t be sure it was an oversight on Gregory’s part or that she had forgotten to include it in his reconstructed memory.
But of course, it would be an obvious place to set up an ambush. For this reason, she decided to go with Gregory’s train of thought.
“What do you think he might do?”
“I’d booby-trap the area,” he answered.
“To capture or kill?” Elizabeth asked.
“Does he need us?”
“Not in the least.”
“Then I should think we’ll be up against everything he has that’s lethal,” Gregory answered.
“Don’t forget the feran,” Elizabeth somberly reminded him. “They have a way of mucking up the best-laid plans.”
CHAPTER 21
Breakfast consisted of water from a nearby stream mixed with a powdery concoction the witch kept in a small leather pouch Gregory had seen dangling from her belt.
“I wondered what that carried,” Gregory admitted.
“It’s an old family recipe.” Elizabeth smiled. “Hope you like it.”
Gregory boldly took a sip, announced the substance palatable, and consumed the rest. Seconds later he felt like he had just eaten a seven-course meal.
“Oh God!” He burped. “What was that stuff?”
“It’ll keep you going,” Elizabeth laughed. “But you might want to take a few moments and let it digest.”
Finding a sunny patch of grass, Gregory sprawled out and tried not to belch too loudly.
“I’ll be right back,” Elizabeth told him, planting a kiss on his head.
“Where are you going?”
“Nature calls.”
“Oh.”
Not long after, Elizabeth returned carrying a large, relatively straight, tree branch.
“I figure Haushofer already has any possible path to the hole covered. So …” she said, holding up the piece of wood, “how about we fly?”
The other reason for taking to the air was the chaos below. Not until they were well above the site of yesterday’s battle did either of them realize the damage Fetch’s jailbreak had done to the landscape.
“Nothing’s the same,” Gregory said, searching the scene below for a familiar landmark. “Do you have any idea where the portal is?”
“Its frequency puts it down there between those two boulders,” Elizabeth answered, pointing off to her right. “Hang on.”
With her warning, Gregory instinctively tightened his two-handed grasp. Even so, he managed to keep his eyes open until the branch banked sharply, tilted, and then dove down, slicing over the boulders.
“Hey!!!” Gregory yelled, startled by a bolt of light that sizzled past the broom. “That wasn’t …”
“He still has a few tricks up his sleeve,” Elizabeth confirmed. “Likely, a disintegration spell.”
“I didn’t think to shield,” Gregory said, his voice tense.
“Nor I,” Elizabeth gulped, urging her makeshift broom further away from the portal.
Elizabeth slowed the broom when she figured they were out of range. Just then, Gregory caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. It was the dragons.
‘That was dangerous magic,’ a voice came to them.
‘Was it really meant to kill?’ a second voice questioned.
‘Yes,’ Elizabeth projected. ‘I was wondering if you two were going to say goodbye.’
‘But it doesn’t look as if you are ready to leave yet,’ Gossamer observed.
‘Did you see the *’!#*’!?’ Fetch demanded.
‘I didn’t catch that last word,’ Elizabeth replied.
‘It’s a word that shouldn’t be repeated,’ Gossamer answered, casting a reproachful look in Fetch’s direction. ‘He designed it specifically for the one who tried to kill him.’
‘I didn’t see him. He’s well hidden. But Fetch, he’s also dangerous. Please let me handle this.’
‘It’s my fight, too,’ Fetch said in no uncertain terms.
‘But—’
‘Don’t waste your time, dear,’ Gossamer interrupted. ‘When Fetch gets angry, he’s impossible to reason with. Besides, this time, I agree with him. That creature deserves what Fetch has planned for him.’
‘This is true,’ the witch relented, and then to Gregory, “You ready?”
“Shields up,” he answered, checking the security of the satchel on his back before tightening his grip on the branch.
‘We’re going in,’ she told the dragons. ‘Stay clear until we’re on the ground.’
The branch dipped and headed in. A thousand feet out, blue balls of energy shot out from the boulders below. Their shields glowed a bright blue as the spells struck, but held steady. Just as importantly, the branch never wavered.
Five hundred feet from the boulders, the incoming blue energy turned red. Again, the attack merely lit up the shields. This time, they turned purple.
A split second later, the witch began her own barrage. Yellowish-green orbs the size of oranges shot out with a “poom, poom, poom,” sound as Elizabeth and Gregory swooped in. As they hit their marks, a circle, fifty feet in diameter, erupted in a brilliant light giving off a deafening sonic boom.
The flying branch rode outside the blast’s wave as the wave expanded outward, discharging along the ground. Then, as the force reached its zenith, it began to shrink back in on itself. Elizabeth turned the flying branch and followed the wave from their position well above its border, as it flowed inward. The light extinguished as the witch’s makeshift broom came in for a landing.
“I’ve stopped all magic for a short time,” the witch told Gregory. Keeping a lookout for trouble, she stepped off the branch and calmly began walking toward the black hole that linked this time frame to the one she most recently called her own.
There was no longer a need for speed. What they needed now was Haushofer. He couldn’t be left behind—not alive anyway.
“Anything?” Elizabeth asked Gregory, who was acting as their rearguard.
“Nothing,” he whispered.
Figuring Haushofer’s desire for the Lantian manuscripts would force his hand, the two, armed with pistols and silver swords, moved cautiously forward. Using the satchel as bait, Elizabeth hoped to coax the German into the open.
“By now he should have recognized what I have done. With no magic, it boils down to a Lascion and a witch against two feran and himself. He’s got to figure he has the upper hand,” Elizabeth whispered.
Haushofer was in for a surprise. An absence of magic didn’t mean a lack of witchcraft. To start with, since their shields were created with magic, Elizabeth came up with a substitute for them by manipulating the molecular structure of their clothing, she had effectively dressed herself and Gregory in suits of armor. Bullets and claws would be ineffectual as long as they hit an area covered in the reinforced cloth.
***
“Stop!” a voice commanded in German.
Feeling confident in the precautions she had taken for protecting them, Elizabeth continued moving forward. That’s when the German word “Now!” shattered the silence.
Sim
ultaneously, at their five, eight and twelve o’clock positions, the enemy stood and opened fire. Several bullets found their mark before Elizabeth could gain cover against the crossfire.
With the bullets flying just above her head, she looked for damage. ‘Bruises, but not blood,’ she tallied. ‘The clothing spell worked!’ Then, “Gregory? You okay?” Elizabeth called out.
“Yes … you?”
“Never better. What say we shoot back?”
Gregory rose, just enough to see over the boulder he was lying behind, and emptied his pistol. Elizabeth did the same.
The German ducked. The feran didn’t. The exploding head of a feran boomed, followed by Elizabeth’s voice, “Got it!”
“Me too,” Gregory called. “Only I didn’t hit the head.”
“No worries. We’ll be gone before it recovers,” Elizabeth shot back.
“The German’s on the way to the transfer point,” Gregory pointed. “He’s behind that debris to our right.”
“I’ll get him,” Elizabeth rose and dashed toward the place where Gregory had pointed.
For several strides, Gregory tried to stay with her. But with his larger body, it was like running through a minefield. Every rock and pebble slid under his feet. Finally, the unstable terrain prevailed. His right foot skid across the gravel and he fell, twisting his ankle before tumbling into the debris.
Elizabeth, unaware she had lost Gregory, raced on. She did not slow when the German stood and threw, what she thought to be, a stick at her.
The stick hit with a metallic clang jerking Elizabeth’s attention away from the German. That’s when she saw the stalk hand grenade or “potato masher” as it was called. “Grenade!” she screamed and dove for a nearby boulder.
She was in mid-air when the grenade blew. Elizabeth felt the shrapnel hit her side as the force of the explosion altered her flight. She crashed twenty feet to the right between two large piles of jagged rocks.
Gregory’s nose was in the dirt when the German’s grenade went off. Still, the concussion from the blast was enough to momentarily daze him. By the time he regained his senses and managed to get to his hands and knees, the Nazi was upon him.
Haushofer came in hard and fast. A body block drove Gregory’s face back into the dirt. Instinct made the Lascion move. He rolled onto his back just as the German hit him again. This time, Haushofer grabbed hold of Gregory’s collar as he struggled to stay on top of him.
Gregory rolled and kicked trying to twist from the German’s grasp. The buttons on his shirt gave, allowing him to rip away from Haushofer. The two scrambled to their feet, the German still holding onto Gregory’s shirt. Haushofer threw the shirt in Gregory’s direction as he pulled a knife from the back of his belt and lunged at the Lascion’s bare chest.
With no time to think and no experience with which to guide his reaction, Gregory merely swung his fist at the man. His longer reach saved him. Gregory’s hand bashed into Haushofer jaw before the knife could do any harm.
Stunned, the German’s eyes went wide as the knife fell harmlessly to the ground. For an instant, neither combatant moved.
Again Haushofer was the first to recover. But instead of charging, he turned and headed for the hole.
“Oh no you don’t,” Gregory shouted, stumbling after the German.
His long, Lantian legs compensated for his injured ankle and brought Gregory within reach. He dove catching the German’s feet. Haushofer fell, hit the gravel, and slid toward the black hole.
Scrambling up, Gregory hobbled closer and launched himself at the German’s back. He was still in midflight when something slammed into his right side. The impact sent him flying sideways as he plowed into the gravel beside the German.
Inhaling with difficulty, Gregory was aware of a searing pain in his right side. Reaching over with his left hand he felt the area just beneath his ribs. It was wet and warm.
“What the …?” Then he saw the creature he had shot. It hadn’t stayed down!
“The feran,” Gregory gasped as the witch’s words came back to him. “It’s mucked up everything.”
The feran shook off the effects of the collision, gained its feet and dove onto the Lascion. The brute’s weight was suffocating, the pain in his side, excruciating. He was pinned down, and could only watch as the feran let out a bloodcurdling howl, opened it jaws wide, and moved in for the killing bite. Locked onto its prey, the feran didn’t notice the shadow.
Gregory heard a whooshing sound and a snap that sounded like a branch breaking. A warm liquid rained down on him. Wiping his eyes, Gregory strained to see what had just happened.
“Ahhhh!” he yelled and stared in horror. The lower half of the feran was still sitting on his chest. “Holy …” Gregory gulped. “It’s been bitten in two.”
Grimacing from the pain in his right side, Gregory pushed the feran off and rolled to his left. Grabbing his side, he willed himself to stand. Teetering, he turned toward the German and gasped as he saw the satchel lying beside Haushofer.
‘The feran must have dislodged it,’ he reasoned, though he thought for certain he had tied it securely to his back.
Knowing that he had to do something didn’t seem to help. It was all Gregory could do to stay on his feet. Back and forth he swayed as he watched the German stir.
Slowly, Haushofer rose to his knees, then saw the satchel. With a triumphant smile, the German reached out, grabbed the satchel, and leaped toward the black hole.
Gregory pushed with everything he had left. It wasn’t so much a leap as a fall. Still, it got him to the hole as the German was disappearing. Desperately, Gregory reached out. The pain in his side exploded as his fist grabbed leather. Then came a violent jerk that tightened the leather strap around his hand. Gregory struggled to stay conscious as he felt his shoulder dislocate. Willing his hand to hold, he slid toward the edge of the hole. Gregory hung on, bracing himself against Haushofer’s descent.
Then somehow, the strain on his arm ceased. Seconds later the satchel popped up out of the hole. With it came Haushofer’s hand, arm, and shoulder. The hole, apparently because Haushofer wasn’t moving forward, was spitting the German back out.
The thought of another confrontation was too much for Gregory. Haushofer would win, and there was nothing Gregory could do about it.
As that thought came, his vision dimmed, a light flashed, and as Gregory lost consciousness, the German dove, empty-handed, back into the future.
CHAPTER 22
Sifting through the wreckage that was once her body, Elizabeth found the little things, like the fact that her heart was still beating, comforting. But then there was the leg twisted into a position she could never have managed on her own. Besides that, and perhaps a few other orthopedic concerns, the real kicker was the abundant warmth she felt spreading over a great deal of her body.
‘I’m leaking,’ she fumed with a pain-filled grimace.
Her anger was self-directed. The idea that she would be dodging hand grenades had never occurred to her. Worse yet was the price she was paying for her oversight. Haushofer was getting away.
“Focus, girl, you can do this,” she urged herself as she gritted her teeth and repositioned her limbs. She was able to stop her mind from interfering. Her body responded. It was not enough to resume chasing bad guys, but it was sufficient to halt the bleeding and allow minimum motion.
“Clothes stopped most of it,” she told whichever of her cells that might be listening. “Otherwise …”
‘If you were bigger, you wouldn’t be as delicate,’ the voice came as the earth shook from the pounding thump of the dragon landing beside her.
‘Gossamer,’ Elizabeth replied, so relieved to see her. ‘Believe me, this isn’t normal.’
‘Nor, I hope, is this foul magic that loathsome beast brought with him.’
Elizabeth didn’t bother explaining how humans ran their world. The idea that a significant portion of the human race devoted their genius to the art of killing was not something
she wanted to elucidate upon to the dragon. Instead, she inquired about Haushofer’s location.
‘He managed to slip through the tear in time,’ the female dragon answered.
‘You saw him?’
‘Fetch … saw him off,’ Gossamer replied. ‘But not before giving him the present he deserved.’
Looking up at the dragon, Elizabeth could have sworn she saw the dragon grin. Curious, she asked, ‘What present?’
‘Fetch reprogrammed the beast’s energy field. From this point on, that creature will only reap what he has sown.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘He—wait! Fetch is telling me that there is trouble.’
Elizabeth felt the dragon go silent. The sudden shift and the talk of trouble alarmed her. She tried to stand. When her leg refused to hold her weight, she sat back down and watched the dragon as Gossamer began to pace silently in front of her. When the dragon’s tail started rapidly swishing back and forth, Elizabeth began to worry.
Finally, she couldn’t take it any longer. ‘Gossamer, what’s wrong?’
‘Your friend is hurt. We must hurry.’
‘I can’t,’ Elizabeth wailed. ‘My leg.’
‘I’ll repair it as we go.’
‘You can’t. I blocked the magic.’
‘No time to argue … don’t move.’
The dragon reached out with her foot and snatched the witch off the rock she was sitting on. Gossamer’s smooth motion was followed by an equally smooth turn and bound as she took to the air in the direction of the transition point. Seconds later, Elizabeth knew the reason for Gossamer’s haste.
“Gregory!” she screamed the moment the dragon set her on the earth.
He didn’t move.
‘I am sorry,’ Fetch projected. ‘He was just too empty.’
“No,” Elizabeth moaned, racing to Gregory’s side; her injured leg functioned normally, but the witch didn’t notice the improvement. Only the pale body of her lover filled her awareness. Quickly kneeling, she touched his chest. His life spark was faint. “He’s still alive,” she cried frantically searching for a solution.
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