“Stay close,” Zachary told Karigan. He drew his sword.
The Weapons maintained their tight cordon around them. Blades hissed through the air as they were brought to bear against the enemy. The Weapons were like avenging gods as they clove into the Lions. Swords clashed. Blood spattered against canvas. The table holding the game of Intrigue toppled and sent game pieces flying.
The Lions proved equal in strength and grace, but they were outnumbered, and more Weapons entered the tent behind them. Black and crimson blurs of motion leaped and plunged and parried like mirrors of one another as they moved through forms too rapidly to name.
Lions fell, but so, too, did Weapons. She cried out when a curved sword gutted Willis and then was whipped around flinging off blood and was driven into Ellen up to the guard. When they fell, the other Weapons filled in their positions, keeping the cordon tight around her and Zachary. Her hand was clammy on the hilt of Captain Mapstone’s saber and shook.
Steady, girl, she told herself. But she knew she was not advanced enough of a swordmaster to stand against the Lions, that her back was not strong enough, that she was out of condition. She glanced at Zachary, saw the grim intensity of his expression as he observed the action around them. Though she would die in a fight, fight she would to protect him.
The Lions pressed forward trying to reach Zachary even as more of their own fell to Weapon blades. Another black-clad warrior fell, blood gouting from his neck.
“Liam,” Zachary growled. Karigan hadn’t known him well.
The number of Lions dwindled and it would soon be over for them, but they fought ferociously on. One crashed into her and knocked her sword from her grasp. Before she could reach after it, the sickening miasma she’d come to know all too well descended on her. Her stomach churned as her surroundings turned fluid and spun. Torq materialized behind Zachary, ready to grab him. Before the Weapons realized what was happening and could react, she launched herself at Torq and tackled him to the ground. Shouts erupted around them. Torq lost hold of the travel device and it rolled beneath the feet of a Weapon and Lion locked in combat.
She reached after it. Torq, behind her, grabbed her and tried to push her aside, but she elbowed him in the face and crawled ahead. A boot heel kicked the orb once more out of her reach. She started to crawl after it, heard Zachary call her name. A glance over her shoulder revealed Torq right behind her and Zachary trying to break through combatants to reach her.
Torq grabbed her ankle and raised his dagger. She tried to kick free of him. His blade missed and sank into the ground beside her leg, but he held onto her with a grip like a manacle. A Lion tripped backward over him and he lost hold of her. She wormed ahead and grabbed the orb. She took a deep breath and held it with both hands.
Torq had hold of her again. Sweat poured down his tattooed face, and he pulled on her leg drawing her toward him. In desperation, Karigan rotated the two halves of the orb.
Where? it quietly asked.
An image came to mind before she could stop it, and she and Torq whirled away.
She hit the ground spinning. When she came to a stop, everything continued to rotate around her. She retched into the white earth. White earth?
Dear gods, what have I done?
She forced herself to look up despite the disorientation. She did not see Torq, but one of the Lions had crossed with her. He wobbled on his feet and gazed in shock at the strange world of the Blanding.
She thought to use the travel device just to escape, but then she realized she no longer held it. It had rolled out of her hand and beneath a bridge. There were three bridges, the same ones she had seen before when she’d come through with Duncan and the Riders. One bridge crossed back to the mountains, the second to Eletia, and the third she did not know where it went. It was under the third bridge the orb had rolled.
She rose unsteadily to her feet, and her movement caught the attention of the Lion. He bellowed and launched himself at her. She reached for her sword, but realized it was not at her hip. It was on the floor of Zachary’s tent. She ran.
She ran for the middle bridge, the Lion pounding after her. As she gained the arch, the Lion was right behind her and it occurred to her that death lay both ahead and behind.
The moment the mist between worlds started to part and brighten with sunshine, the moment she felt the damp vapor of the Alluvium on her face, she dove onto the bridge’s deck. Momentum carried the Lion forward and he leaped over her into full sunshine. He halted in what must have been pure astonishment and gawked at the sight before him, the rapids of the Alluvium racing their way into the valley. He looked upon what so few mortals had ever seen.
But discipline was discipline, and he turned back to Karigan, sunshine glinting on the curve of his sword as he raised it for the killing blow. At that moment, arrows thudded into his back, and the tips of their leaf-shaped heads punched through his chest. He looked down in shock. His sword clattered to the bridge and he dropped to his knees. Blood trickled from his mouth and deepened the crimson of his robe. When he crumpled over, she saw the shafts of five white arrows bristling out of his back.
She carefully crawled back through the mist into the Blanding lest the Eletians impale her with arrows, too.
She climbed to her feet and dusted white soil off her breeches. When she looked up, she saw Torq turning in circles looking bewildered. Oh, no. She must get the travel device before he regained his equanimity. She took a step toward the third bridge where she’d last seen the orb, but it was too late—he had noticed her.
“What is this place?” he demanded. He stared directly at her. His skull tattoo looked even more pronounced with the bleaching effect of the white world.
Karigan did not answer, but sprinted toward the far bridge. Torq was right behind her and knocked her to the ground. She kicked and flailed, broke loose, and tried to crawl away, but he grabbed her ankle just as he had back in the tent. She planted her foot in his face. He howled and let her go.
She scrambled to her feet and ran, but he was quick to recover. He grabbed her and they fell to the ground again. This time he pinned her on her back.
“You’ll regret that, Greenie.”
She struggled, but his weight pressed down on her. “What are the Varosians doing with my colonel?” she demanded. “Where are they taking her?”
Blood glided down Torq’s jaw. “The Witch? She’s to be King Farrad Vir’s slave, but I’d be more worried about yourself—I promised her I would tear apart any Greenies I came across, and I aim to keep that promise.”
He gripped her throat in a choke hold. She grabbed his wrist, but it was about as thick as a tree trunk and as unmovable. She struggled, wiggled, gasped, but she could not breathe, and the more she struggled, the harder it became, the world dimming around her, darkness closing in.
She heard a rustling, like wings. Was it Westrion come to take her to the heavens? Had it all been for naught, all her striving, all the battles and danger? Was this all there was?
Be at peace, Karigan, came the whispers. Sleep in peace . . .
Torq stood. Her vision lightened and she could breathe again, but she felt so tired and so heavy.
“What is this? What are these things?” Torq’s voice sounded so far off.
She knew she should get up and try to reach the orb, but she just wanted to rest.
Yes, Karigan, rest in—
Nyssa stirred in her mind. Get UP, you stupid Greenie!
Karigan sat straight up, feeling in a fog, and finding herself in a fog.
Get up! Nyssa screamed at her, and kept screaming to block the whispers.
Karigan clambered unsteadily to her feet, felt the brush of a shroud against her arm. She jumped aside only to find wraiths billowing and floating around her in a graceful ballet. It was a mesmerizing dream, and they were everywhere as she turned about. Their whispers crooned in the back of her mind, a song, a calling.
Leave, you idiot, Nyssa hollered at her.
Startled, she stumbled forward and almost tripped over Torq, who lay curled on the ground beneath a blanket of mist. He slept with a tranquil expression on his face. Some of the wraiths that hovered over him turned to her. Their bloodless faces sent a jolt through her heart. One extended a clawlike hand toward her, its poison nail leaking yellow ichor.
Run! Nyssa yelled.
Run where? Karigan wondered. She was surrounded.
The bridge, idiot girl. Must I think of everything?
Karigan pushed her way through the wraiths. They reached after her. She felt a poison nail scratch along her sleeve. They called out to her, but she fought against it by reciting swordfighting forms in her mind: Aspen Leaf, Crayman’s Circle, Raven’s Sweep, Ice Slide . . .
Then she remembered the travel device and changed course for the far bridge.
Yes, come to us, Karigan, the whisperers called.
What are you doing? Nyssa demanded, her voice incredulous.
Karigan found a cluster of wraiths beneath the arch of the bridge, tentacles extended from their torsos holding the travel device between them. The tentacles pulsed a dull red. Were they feeding off it? There was no grabbing it now.
She turned to run back to the bridge that would return her to the mountains, but crashed into a wraith. It felt much more substantial than it looked.
Rest, it told Karigan. Sleep in restful peace.
She tried to remember more sword forms, but could not seem to.
The world faded around her. Nyssa’s voice became an irritating background noise. A pulsing tentacle whipped out and adhered its flat tip to her forehead, and the wraith’s claw with its poisonous nail was poised to grab her wrist.
Sleep in restful peace, Karigan, it told her. Sleep . . .