Fifteen
About Face,and Back into the Mist
Gin startled awake and sat up to see Sath trying to move around the room without making any noise. “What happened?” she demanded. “How long was I asleep?”
“I don’t know, Gin, a few hours? I dozed off myself.” He was looking under the two cots in the room. “They took our food too, I suppose? My stomach is growling louder than I have ever heard in my life.”
Gin chuckled. “I don’t know where my pack ended up. I’m assuming it came off when the portal reached out and grabbed me, but I’m not sure. I woke up in this place, with you calling out to me through the bond, and that is most of what I remember until I actually saw the Mother Dragon.” She shivered at the memory.
“Yeah, she’s quite a sight. Gin, we need a plan.”
“We have one. You stubbornly keep the collar on, and I will try to talk my way out of the trouble I’m in, then we both get out of here.”
“Details have never been your strength, have they?”
Gin made a face at Sath and then tried the door again. Still locked. She pressed her ear up against it but didn’t hear anything. Sath suggested in their bond that his hearing was better, but she waved him off. “I wonder just how much magic I have?”
“What?”
“Stand back, I’m gonna try something.” For once, the memory of the old days with the Fabled Ones did not make Sath smile. “Seriously. Step away from the door.”
“Feels like a trap.” Sath did not move from where he stood, arms crossed over his chest. He reached up to try to shift the collar. “I’m game if you are, Gin, but I have a bad feeling about this.” She shot him a pointed look, and he put his hands up and stepped away from the door to just behind her.
“I don’t think we have many options, do we?” Gin’s hands were on her hips as she tapped her boot against the stone floor, a sign that she was trying to decide on a course of action. She closed her eyes and focused on the place where her magic lived, coaxing it to build as she thought about how the door looked when it was open. “Those hinges are rusty—I didn’t notice that before, did you?” She opened her eyes, and Sath shook his head. “Right, here goes nothing.” Gin called up one of the most destructive spells she knew, channeling her magic into fiery power and aiming it at the door. Magical force, not fire, flew from her fingers and assaulted the hinges on the door, blowing bits of rust and metal in every direction but leaving the metal door intact. “Na’hina!”
Sath placed a hand on her back, not knowing what to say. He moved closer to the door after holding a hand up to her to keep her from removing his fur the way she had the rust and studied the lock. “You are a marvel. Gimme a second.” He squatted down and inspected the knob, and the bolt as Gin came to stand right behind him. “You blew the knob loose. I bet I can pick the lock.”
“You know how to pick locks? Since when?”
“I had a life before you, ya know.” Sath chuckled as he carefully pushed one of his clawed fingers into the lock, feeling around for a moment. A satisfied smile spread across his features, and Gin gasped as she heard the click of the lock. “See? Nothing to it.” He stood up, made a show of dusting himself off, and then turned the knob. He pushed until veins stood out on his neck, making the striped pattern of his fur undulate. “The, um, door opens outward, right?”
“Sath.” Gin pushed past him with a loud sigh, took hold of the knob, and pulled the door inward. It swung with such force that she lost her footing and barreled into Sath—barely shifting him. “Sorry.”
Sath smiled suddenly. “We are overlooking one of our best assets. Your tracking ability is second to none. Is there anyone approaching or close by?” Gin closed her eyes and concentrated, moving closer to the door and then stopping suddenly, just before she ran right into it. She shook her head and opened her eyes.
“There’s no one out there. I mean NO ONE. I reached out as far as I could with my magic, and I don’t sense any living thing. What do you think that means?” Gin frowned. “I hope it doesn’t mean that all of my magic is used up now.”
“It means this is most definitely a trap, but we need to go while the door is open and the coast is clear, I suppose.” He tugged on the collar again. “I’m beginning to hate this thing—I mean more than the other one when I was younger if that’s possible.” Gin reached for him, and he pulled back from her. “I’m still going to wear it, though. No sense in giving away our advantage until we have to, right?” Gin sighed but nodded.
“Let’s get going then. I’m still not sensing anyone, but we don’t know how long we will have a clear exit—or if someone is waiting right outside the door.” She crept out the door, but Sath paused a moment before following her. The hallway was long, with only a few doors along its length. Gin could see four doors altogether that were all shut, plus the one she had just walked through. One of them had to lead to the outside—wherever that was.
Shut the door as you come out, Sath.
Why?
No sense in advertising what we are doing, right?
Sath pulled the door shut quietly behind him with a wry grin as the lock seemed to click into place when the door settled into the frame. From the outside, there was no evidence of the magical blast that had cleaned up the hinges, but there was no doorknob.
Which way at the end of the hallway?
Gin paused and again closed her eyes. She felt movement behind her as Sath closed the distance between them, ready to strike if they were ambushed. She opened her eyes and pointed to the right, then crept around the corner with Sath right behind her. There was an open doorway there, and it looked as though a staircase descended beyond.
I don’t sense anything on the staircase, but I can’t see anything past that.
You think maybe they left us here to mind the house?
No, I mean, I can’t see anything past the stairs. It’s like they go down to nothing. But I’m almost positive someone is coming from the other way, behind us. Something just doesn’t seem right about all of this, Sath. Did we take the wrong way? I’m just not sure. There are other doors, let’s try those first. I have a bad feeling about that staircase.
I know, but there’s only one way to find out, right?
Gin headed for the first door, a few paces down, and on the left-hand side of the hallway. As her hand grazed the wall, something about the feel triggered a memory of a castle near the seaside—Bellesea. But that was back home, and they were undoubtedly NOT home, right? She shook her head to clear it and then concentrated on that door.
Anybody home in there, Gin?
No. No living beings. Let’s have a look.
Her fingers were steady as she turned the doorknob—finding it unlocked was a welcome surprise. Gin pushed the door open as slowly and carefully as she could and stuck her head inside. Three dwarves sat around a table, steins in hands, playing cards askew and falling into their laps. She gaped at the scene—how did she not sense them?
Gin?
Sath, there are people in here. Dwarves. But they don’t seem to be moving.
Let me see.
Sath pushed the door open, and she stepped to the side as he entered the room. “Greetings!” His voice boomed, and Gin almost had to cover her ears because she also heard him—translated, of course—in the bond. She knew some of the dwarves' language because of traveling with Teeand, but not as much as Sath did. “Fellas? You’re right, Gin, they aren’t moving, but I don’t think they are dead.” He took a cautious step closer, one hand extended to tap the closest one on the back, and his hand disappeared into a ripple in the air. “Na’hina!” Sath exclaimed as he yanked his arm back.
“It’s another time trap, isn’t it?” Gin’s voice was more pinched and afraid sounding than she had intended, and Sath clearly responded as he moved in between her and the strange trio of frozen dwarves.
“If they are still alive in there, then yes.”
Gin looked around the room—there was a large knapsack near the door, a
nd she moved closer to it. “Ugh, how did I miss that before?” The humming that she felt upon opening the door grew louder the closer she got to the bag. As slowly as she could, Gin reached for the strap on the bag and pulled it to her. It disintegrated as it grew closer, finally ending up a pile of brittle leather and dust.
“How did you miss what?” Sath was rubbing his hand over the top of his head in earnest now. “Gin, we need to get out of this room.”
“How did I miss the magic holding them in stasis—it has a very distinctive feel, Sath. I noticed it every time we entered Bellesea until Taanyth was dead.” She swallowed hard. “Have you noticed how much this place looks like Bellesea? Less ruined, of course, but still, don’t you think it is familiar?”
Sath nodded. “But Gin, you have to believe me, this is not what I meant when I said we were going to –“ Gin held up a hand to stop him from talking. “So, if that bag is any indication, we can’t remove them from that trap.”
“No.” Gin looked at them sadly. “At least they all look happy, and maybe inside there time is moving—however slowly—and they are enjoying themselves.”
“They are dwarves with steins; of course they are enjoying themselves.” Sath chuckled, but the mirth was not genuine. “Let’s leave them to it.” Gin nodded, and after saying a silent prayer to the All-Mother, she followed Sath out the door and pulled it shut.
“Next one?” Sath nodded and followed her to the next door. This one had a window in the top quarter of the door. Bars lined up across the opening, and Sath paused a moment as he looked at it. “I see what you mean about the similarity to Bellesea,” he whispered.
“Can you see what is in there? I don’t sense –“ Gin fell silent as her magic found one heartbeat in the room. Friend or foe, it couldn’t tell, but there was definitely someone alive in the room. “Sath, there is a –“
“Elf. Male. Alynatalos.” Sath boosted Gin up to look through the window. “His clothes look rather modern, don’t you think?”
“They do.” Gin cocked her head to one side. “It isn’t anyone I know, but how could it be if he has been here since –“ The man turned and looked right at her as Gin’s eyes widened. He mouthed something at her as he balled up his fists and struck out at the invisible barrier that kept him inside the room. “Sath, if we can see him move, then maybe he hasn’t been here that long. We have to get him out of there.” She vaulted out of Sath’s arms and flung the door open before he could stop her.
“Gin, wait!” Sath swiped for her, but she ducked out of his arms and ran headlong into a magical barrier and was hurled backward into him. It felt as though she had been struck down by wizard’s lightning, and she looked down at herself for signs of charred clothing or flesh but found nothing.
“Do NOT do that,” she said, shaking her head and blinking. Once she could again see clearly, she looked up into the face of the high elf. He had moved over to the barrier and was staring down at her with concern. He said something, but she couldn’t hear him. “I wish he could make the bond, Sath, we could –“
“No.” Gin’s head swiveled as she looked at Sath in surprise. “We can’t get him out of there. That is strong magic – dragon magic. We have nothing to match that on a good day.”
“I killed Lord Taanyth, don’t forget.”
“With the wizard’s assistance.” Sath helped her to her feet and moved closer to the barrier. The man shrank back, looking back and forth between Gin and Sath and pointing frantically as he shouted. “Well, I guess I know what period he is from, don’t I?” Sath raised his hands and stepped away from Gin, and the man calmed down. “He thinks I’m the Bane of the Forest.”
Gin moved in front of Sath. The closer she got, the more she could hear the muffled sound of the man’s pleas, but she still could not understand the words. “Listen to me,” she said, pulling in all of the power of the Nature Walkers past that she could summon. The man stilled. “Good. I know you can’t understand me, but I will return for you. I promise.”
Gin. Sath was an irritating presence in the back of her mind, but she mentally waved him off.
I will come back and save him, and you can come with me if you like. Gin looked at Sath pointedly as he fumed and ranted through their bond, but he eventually stilled.
I can’t just leave him here, but we have to keep moving for now. We will return once we have more magic to combat the trap. Sath? The silent treatment? Really?
Let’s just keep moving.
There was only one more door, near the end of the hall. Gin sprinted ahead and opened it, finding a staircase. Checking with Sath in the bond first, they moved quickly down the stairs, only stopping for a moment to look out the window at the landing when it turned back on itself.
What can you see?
Water. Lots of it, off on the horizon. Perhaps we are on an island? I can’t see straight down, so I don’t know how close we are to the shore. Maybe she left me here to rot and brought you here to join me?
Perhaps. Can you see anything else?
No. There’s mist rising off the water, and it’s obscuring the—wait, Sath, I can see the sun, it’s about midday I’d say.
Good. I’ve no desire to explore in the dark, thank you.
Me either.
Gin paused a moment, enjoying the safety that came with her bond with Sath. So many times in the past, he had come for her but had to find her first. Now he always knew where she was—and how she felt, and, once she allowed him in—what she was thinking. That last one might take a bit of time. She resumed her careful trek down the stairs to find an archway at the bottom—no door. Gin held up a hand to tell Sath to wait and stuck her head out of the arch to look around. Again, just like the room at the top of the stairs, there was no one guarding the outside.
Let’s go. It looks clear.
Dragons aren’t nocturnal, are they? Does this seem at all odd to you?
Very odd, but I’m not going to complain.
Sath reached for her hand as she slipped out the archway, moving as quietly as she could. They stayed close to the outer wall of the building, occasionally pressing up against its cold stones when they came to a corner. The building was not as big as the Great Halls in the Outpost, but almost, and was built similarly. Gin ran her hand along the stones, feeling the nearly undetectable marks in the bricks left by the tools made to create it. The mortar in between the large bricks was weathered—most likely by the salt air—but held firm.
Sath, I think that this is older than the buildings back home, at least older than the buildings in the Outpost.
Aye, it does seem to have withstood a lot more, but think about the design of the Outpost—it has a high wall around it, and that may protect it.
Maybe.
Still no one around?
I’m not sure. This mist is a lot thicker down here on the ground, and I think it might be magical somehow. That may be why I can’t sense anyone through it.
By design, I’m sure, if this is a prison. It looks so much like Bellesea. I’d almost swear that’s where we are. But that isn’t possible, is it?
I’m not sure. Let’s keep moving.
Gin made mental notes of the landscape that she could see as they moved around the building. They had the sense that there was an ocean on three sides of the building, and as they reached the archway again, they turned to face away from the building. That seemed to be the way to go further inland, and there was no way that Sath was going anywhere near water without a boat—and even then, it wasn’t a sure thing. She looked up at him, inclining her head toward the landmass ahead, and he nodded as he squeezed her hand. The mist was still thick, and at any moment, Gin expected to run headlong into a wall.
The prison—as she had begun thinking of the building they had just left—was right at the midpoint between sand and grassy land, and the further they moved away from it, the more the ground sloped upward. It was not a mountainous terrain by any stretch, but the trees were more sparse here, though, so the grass was a lighter co
lor than the deep verdant greens of her home. Gin looked over her shoulder every so often, taking note each time of how the mist obscured more and more of the stone edifice. After a few hours, the prison was covered entirely, but she thought she saw more water ahead. The mist had not lifted but was not as thick as it had been earlier in the journey. Suddenly, as though a blindfolded was ripped from her eyes, Gin could sense others ahead of them. She stumbled under the weight of the feeling. Sath stopped, sensing her sudden confusion.
“We need to go to the northeast, I think. I overheard Ysil speaking about a place called La’al Drygyr. Do you know what that means in Eldyr, Sath?”
“Drygyr means dragon. La’al means—well, it’s either a number or a color, because I can remember it being a part of one of the songs the nanny taught us to help us remember.” He closed his eyes a moment, and Gin smiled as she heard him humming a tune under his breath. “It’s a color; La’al means red. So la’al drygyr means red dragon.” Sath looked very proud of himself for a moment until the gravity of the situation hit him. “Gin, do you think -”
“That she was talking about an actual red dragon? Probably, but surely not THE red dragon. You don’t think that is Lord Omerith? The one Guardian I have never been able to contact? I don’t know if I hope so—or hope not.” She closed her eyes for a moment to gain her bearings and then headed northeast, with Sath right behind her.
Sixteen
The Opposite of a Jailbreak
“Gin, hang on a second.” Sath was again standing with his arms crossed over his chest as he often did when he was sorting something out.
Darkness: A Guardians of Orana Novel Page 14