But not now. She felt a sudden compulsion to undertake a difficult task. Driven to deprive Jerome of his water source, she descended to just below the dam, lowered herself into the damp but waterless streambed, and set to work pulling and prying the stones of the dam, bit by bit dismantling it until water trickled over the lowered barrier and flowed over her feet. Her shoes, already badly scuffed and scoured by sand, their soles worn thin from climbing over rocks, would be ruined, but she refused to let that matter.
Some of the lower stones were so firmly wedged together that she had to use power to budge them and pry them loose. Icy water now swirled over her ankles, numbing her feet. Still she labored, rolling aside the lower stones, too large and heavy for her to lift.
The water now reached halfway between her ankles and knees, but she judged correctly that it would go no higher because it flowed downstream more rapidly with each rock she removed. When she cast aside the last layer of rocks, the pool emptied and the water rushed past, giving her only moments to clean her hands in the flow and capture a couple of mouthfuls before the water tumbled down the mountain to soak into the thirsty ground below.
She climbed out of the stream and rested a bit before attempting to go home. While she labored at the destruction of the dam, she’d decided that she would not search for Lore. He might have returned home without her, possibly believing her dead, or he might be dead. Jerome might have captured him. She worried about him, but by now Aunt Kyla, Aunt Abigail, and Aunt Leah would be worried about her. If she could transport herself, she would need all her power to do it. Better use that power to get home and let Aunt Kyla and others of the Community locate and retrieve Lore if he had not returned.
She removed and discarded her ruined shoes and rubbed her feet and legs to restore circulation until the numbness wore off. Warmth returned quickly as the hot sun beat down. She stood. It was time to try to return home. She breathed a plea to the Power-Giver and, picturing Aunt Kyla clearly in her mind, she willed herself to be at Kyla’s side.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CONFUSION
Trille was the final member of the Community to arrive. Kyla rapidly filled her in on her plans, and Trille declared her willingness to help, adding “Though I don’t know what use my gift will be in the barren land you describe.”
“None of us knows exactly what gifts will be needed or what will be required of us,” Kyla said. “I believe each of us has something important to contribute.”
Only Leah and Winnie would stay behind to care for Dreama and keep watch over Petros. The rest all agreed to try to be transported to the land of Jerome’s imprisonment, though Abigail objected at first, wanting either to stay with Leah or to have Leah accompany her. Although Kyla reminded her that Leah, not being gifted, would be in too much danger and that Abigail, being a powerful healer, would be a vital part of the group, it took Leah to persuaded Abigail by saying that as one of the Community’s oldest and most gifted members she was obligated to set a good example by going with the others.
So at last they were ready and the time arrived to go. Everyone gathered in the living room and formed a circle. They joined hands. Winter, looking frightened, kept his portfolio with him, clutched firmly between his arm and his side, leaving his hand free to grasp the hand of Darnell Mack, next to him. Holding the portfolio that way looked awkward, and she should tell him to put it down, but Kyla guessed that having it with him helped to calm him, so she said nothing.
Camsen Wellner cleared his throat. “Should we not pray to Ondin for guidance before we undertake this unlikely journey?” he asked, no doubt prepared to offer such a prayer.
Kyla didn’t want to anger the priest. They would almost certainly need his talents for sculpting and throwing fire and for creating illusions. Yet to her the worship of Ondin was based on delusion. “It is better to ask the Power-Giver’s help,” she said as gently as she could. “You may pray to Ondin on your own. But let us ask for the Power-Giver’s guidance and for the power needed to defeat Jerome.”
She took a deep breath and sent a silent plea, Please don’t let us fail. Keep me from making a terrible mistake, please, Alair. Aloud she said, “Power-Giver, we beg you to infuse us with power, both individually and jointly, sufficient to the task ahead of us. We ask your guidance and your help in this rescue effort.”
I will do all I can, Alair’s voice spoke in her mind, startling her. It had been so long since he’d spoken to her. There is more at stake here than you know, he continued. I must warn you that Jerome owes much of his power to an evil Dire Lord, who has given him gifts you will find difficult to combat.
Kyla shuddered. Why didn’t you tell me this before? And why haven’t you spoken in so long?
I didn’t want to worry you, came his familiar voice And Claid has been rationing my power.
She sighed. Alair hadn’t changed much, even as Power-Giver, from the arrogant and infuriating mage he had been. But was Claid, the Dire Lord whom Alair had held in thrall for many years and on whom his present existence depended, really rationing his power? She recalled how often Alair, when a human mage, had blamed Claid for failures that were Alair’s own.
Claid will help us, won’t he?
Claid is even more unpredictable as a powerful Dire Lord than he was when he assumed a human guise. You can’t count on him.
Kyla didn’t believe that. Alair had always refused to trust Claid. If she needed his help, he would give it, she felt sure. They had to go ahead with their plan. Too many lives depended on it.
And how many lives would be lost if the plan failed? Or even if it succeeded? No, she couldn’t think of that. Come what may, it was time to take the group to confront Jerome. She tightened her grip on the hand of Trille, on one side of her, and Lore on the other. “We’re ready,” she told Lore.
Renni glared at Jerome, tempted to tell him that letting her see him as human made him no less a monster in her eyes. She held back, knowing how dangerous he was. If she could erase his memories as far back as she could, which was probably not more than a month or two, it wouldn’t undo the damage he’d done in that time, but it might prevent his doing more. He met her glare with the kind of amused look one might bestow on a naughty child. She did not avert her gaze but launched her power at him and waited for the look of confusion that typically followed memory loss.
He burst out laughing. “You think your puny power is a match for mine? You can’t harm me, little fool. Let me show you what my power can do.”
They were standing on sand, hot and dry, and Renni felt that sand shift beneath her feet and seep over them. She began to sink, being drawn deeper into the sand, which rose to her knees, then to her hips. It didn’t stop until it reached her waist. Now she had to look up to Jerome, who had remained standing firmly on the surface of the sand.
“Let’s see,” he mused. “Shall I let you sink further?”
As if in answer she fell deeper, so that the sand covered her breasts. Its weight against her chest made it hard to breathe. Her feet had grown numb. She had lifted her arms when the sand reached her waist, so her hands and arms remained above the sand. The urge to dig at the sand and push it away from her body was almost overpowering, but she refused to yield to it. She would not give Jerome that satisfaction.
“It would be amusing to bury you deeper and watch you die,” Jerome said. “I may do that, but not right now. Let me take you to some friends of yours first.” He waved his hand and the sand fell away from her body, spreading out so smoothly that it no trace remained of how it had piled up around her.
Jerome reached out and grabbed her arm. She tried to pull away, but his hold had the strength of a steel clamp. She could not break free. He grinned at her discomfort. “Come,” he said.
And with that single word he and Renni were swept up in a rushing wind and seconds later set down on stony ground, a welcome change from soft sand. At first her mind refused to accept the scene that met her eyes. In front of her a fountain of sparkling water seemed
to surge mysteriously from the flat soil. In the center of that fountain, the water gushed over two figures. She blinked at the astounding sight, slow to take in the horrible truth. Ed and Marta stood like statues in the midst of that fountain.
“Wouldn’t you like to join your friends” Jerome asked, his hand still clamped around her upper arm.
Jerome’s question jolted her from her bemusement. She looked more closely at the fountain. The water wasn’t moving. Carefully she stretched her free arm toward the fountain and brushed her fingertips across the surface of the supposed water. That surface was waxy and dry, definitely not water. Stalling for time, she gave it another tentative touch. Like wax it was smooth, cool, and slightly resilient.
“You haven’t answered my question,” Jerome observed.
“Are you giving me a choice?”
He wasn’t, of course. She had to come up with a plan. Fast.
Petros strained to hear through Ed’s ears the conversation going on between Renni and Jerome outside the solidified fountain in which Ed and Marta were imprisoned, trapping him along with Ed, who was unconscious, perhaps due to something Jerome had done. Fortunately, Jerome did not know about the hitchhiker in Ed’s mind.
Although it was difficult even for him, with his special ability, to hear through the strange stuff that imprisoned Ed and Marta, Petros could distinguish enough of the conversation to gather that Jerome intended to add Renni to the collection within the false fountain. To do that, Jerome would have to release briefly whatever spell kept the fountain solid. That moment could give Petros his only chance to free himself. Ed’s unconscious state might allow him to move Ed’s body.
He’d lost his legs so long ago. Would he remember how to walk? But he’d only have to lurch forward, toward Jerome. If he could catch Jerome unawares, possibly Renni could do something. Or Marta might awaken. He’d heard she had lots of power.
A lot of ifs. But he had to try. He searched for and found the link in Ed’s mind to the muscles in his legs. That was all he had time for. Even though he’d been expecting it, when the stuff that looked like water but was not pooled around Ed’s feet the suddenness of his release jolted Petros.
Jerome dragged Renni into that gooey pool and slammed her up against Marta. Petros caused Ed’s body to lurch forward. The stuff he’d been standing in sucked at his feet, but Petros managed to keep Ed upright and moving in an awkward stumble. Somehow that haphazard motion brought Ed’s body around in a circle, so that he came to a stop just in front of the action.
Jerome released his hold on Renni to grab Ed. Renni grabbed Marta and yanked her out of the sticky stuff. Now the pool was empty, though Jerome had grabbed Ed and was pushing him back into it. Petros lacked enough control to resist.
Marta grabbed hold of Ed’s arm and pulled. She didn’t free him from Jerome’s hold, but she must have awakened him. He took control of his body, and once again Petros became only an observer.
“Go ahead, Lore,” Kyla said. “Focus on the land, and we’ll all feed you as much power as we can.”
He nodded and closed his eyes. The room around them dimmed slightly and then brightened again.
“Hey, what’s happening?” a familiar voice called out.
Veronica!
Lore’s eyes popped open. Veronica walked around the outside of the circle to stand just behind Kyla. She glared at Lore. He cursed silently.
“So you did come back here,” she said. “Why didn’t you look for me? I came that close to dying.” She held up her hand, her thumb and index finger little more than a hair’s breadth apart.
“I thought you’d come back on your own,” he said. “And when I learned you hadn’t, I was afraid you’d died in that sandstorm. But we’re just getting ready to go back there. We’d have looked for you immediately.”
Instead of responding, she looked at Kyla. “You’re going there? All of you?”
“All of us except Winnie and Leah. They’ll stay here to care for Dreama and watch over Petros. The rest of us will try to get there,” Kyla said. “We have a better chance with you to help us.
Did you see Jerome? Or Marta and Ed? Or Renni—she’s gone missing now too.”
“I didn’t see anyone,” Veronica said. “I didn’t look for anyone. When I got out of that sand, all I could think of was finding water. I did find some, or I would have died.”
Lore wanted to ask her where she found water, but the question might lead Veronica to probe more deeply into what happened to him in that land. If only someone else would ask. No one did, not even Trille, whose talent depended on the presence of water.
“Well, I mean to try to find Marta and Ed and to rescue them if Jerome has them,” Kyla addressed Veronica. “It’s time that we all confront Jerome. Now that you’re here, we’ll be that much stronger when we face him.”
Veronica shook her head. “I don’t have much power right now. I haven’t had anything to eat for way too long. I wasn’t sure I could make it back here.”
“You did, so you should be all right to go with us. We’re ready. A few seconds later and you would have missed us. The Power-Giver must have delayed us just long enough for you to join us. Come on, get in the circle and take my hand.” Kyla held out her hand.
Veronica shook her head and made no move to take Kyla’s hand.
Lore was relieved that Veronica hadn’t, after all, died in the sandstorm, yet he did not want her going back with the group. Jerome would almost certainly prefer not to have to deal with the temperamental girl.
And, fortunately, she was being temperamental now. “I have to eat something,” she said. “You don’t understand what I’ve been doing. I’m starved. You go on. I’ll join you later.”
“That’s unwise and selfish of you,” Kyla said sharply, continuing to hold out her hand.
Lore chuckled to himself. Kyla had said exactly the wrong thing.
Veronica’s cheeks reddened with anger. “I’m not being unwise. I need to rebuild my strength. If you think that’s selfish, I’m sorry, but I know what I need. You can either wait awhile or go without me.” She flounced off toward the kitchen.
“Come back here,” Abigail called. Veronica kept going, and Abigail broke from the circle and started after her.
“No, Abigail. It’s no use,” Kyla said. “In that mood she’d be no help to us anyway. If she can’t see how important this is, let her go.” Reclaiming Trille’s hand and squeezing Lore’s, she said, “Let’s get there.”
As soon as Abigail returned to her place Lore clasped Kyla’s hand tightly, and his other hand gripped Marchion’s. He closed his eyes and sent a mental message to Jerome: We’re coming—finally.
Undeterred by the lack of response, he pictured Jerome in his mind and focused on that mental image as he received an infusion of power from all those in the circle, drawing especially on Marchion, who fortunately retained his power of enhancement, though equally fortunately, he must not have regained his power to see auras.
Lore felt the sudden chill and then a rush of wind. “Hold tight,” he said, though he doubted anyone would hear. His feet rested on solid ground. Someone near him let out a heavy breath.
A loud scream made him open his eyes on an unexpected scene.
Renni let out a shrill scream when Jerome slung her into the puddle of thick goop that had been the fountain. And that stuff started moving upward, quickly covering her ankles and oozing up her legs. She tried to pull free of it but could not. Jerome grabbed hold of Ed and shoved him into the goop beside her. He reached for Marta. But Marta had moved beyond his reach and through her power was lifting rocks and sand and hurling them at Jerome. He shielded himself and remained unhurt but distracted, not only by the barrage Marta was sending at him but by—Renni’s eyes widened—the circle of Gifted that appeared so close that when Kyla released the hand of Trille she could reach out and touch Jerome’s arm. Instead, still holding Lore’s hand, she backed away from Jerome.
Renni lost sight of the group as Ed swung h
is body in front of her, grabbed her around the waist, and, grunting, lifted her free of the goop. It surrendered its hold on her legs with a loud gurgle and pop. With a strength she wouldn’t have thought he had, Ed tossed her clear of the sticky fountain. She landed on her rump, yelped, and struggled to her feet. “Marta,” she yelled, “We’ve got to get Ed out of there.”
Marta was already running toward her husband. Renni yelled again, “Be careful! Don’t get into that stuff.”
By now the goop had risen to Ed’s groin and looked more like water, though Renni was well aware that it would neither feel nor act like water. Ed had saved her from it but he could not save himself.
She ran to Lore. “Get Ed out of there,” she said, shaking his shoulder. “Transport him. Hurry.”
“Calm down,” Lore said, jerking away from her clutch. “He isn’t going to be hurt.”
“Lore, you’re a fool. Jerome will kill us all if we don’t do everything we can to stop him.”
“No. Listen, everyone,” Lore shoved Renni away and raised his voice to address the rest of the group. “Jerome just wants to talk to you. You need to hear what he has to say.”
“Idiot!” Renni screamed.
“Stop it, Renni,” Kyla ordered. “We didn’t come here to fight among ourselves.” She turned to Lore. “Lore, what are you saying?”
“He’s saying he’s a traitor,” Renni yelled as she rushed to help Marta pull Ed from the stuff climbing up his body.
It was no use. They could grasp his hands, but no matter how hard they pulled, they couldn’t free him, and they couldn’t get close enough to grab his body and lift without stepping into the goop and getting caught themselves.
A Mix of Magics (Arucadi: The Beginning Book 3) Page 14
