season avatars 01 - seasons beginnings (35 page)

himself to the rim of the water clock. Sal-thaath levitated himself until

he stood opposite Kron.

“On the count of four.”
Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter, I hope

You can hear me. Take Your Avatars home and keep them safe, espe-

cially my wife.
“One, two, three…”

The hoop hovered over the Avatars.

“Four.”

Taking a deep breath, Kron jumped into the pot. His feet seemed to

stretch out as they entered the void. Before his hands became trapped,

Kron released the hoop. He twisted his head to watch it. A flash of gold

descended to the ground, but Kron focused on Bella, on her flecked

eyes. For a heartbeat, her gaze met his.

Then she was gone, and the rest of the Avatars with her.

As the water clock swallowed Kron, Sal-thaath followed him.

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y - T W O

The Water Clock

The water clock was bigger on the inside than it appeared. Kron

found himself in a space as big as his workshop, the walls curving away

from him. Water came halfway up to his knees, freezing his feet. He

flexed his toes, using the fire-starter to warm the water. Rows of holes

all around the pot appeared dark, but the opening let in enough light for

him to see Sal-thaath hovering at eye level. He regarded Kron for a mo-

ment with sadness, as if part of him still regarded Kron as a substitute

father. Then he smiled.

“You don’t have to die right away, Kron.” The boy’s voice bounced

back from the clay walls. “Mother already packed a lot of life energy

into her crystal house for me. And I can stretch time out in this vessel.

We can play for a very long time.”

“I don’t like your games, Sal-thaath.”

The boy pouted. “Why do you have to be so mean?”

“There’s a difference between being mean and being stern. If your

mother had done a better job with you, you’d understand that.”

Kron assessed the pot. It was well made, with thick, solid walls, a

good choice for storing time. But it was an artifact too, and therefore

something he could use. If he couldn’t counter time directly, he could

shape it. Or trap it.

Kron wiggled his toes, urging the fired clay to soften and become

malleable again. The neck of the pot shrank in on itself, and the edges

flowed into each other. The row of holes beneath water level closed up.

Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs
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2 4 1

Sealing the water clock and destroying its capacity for storing time

would not be an instant process. If Sal-thaath suspected what he was

doing, he could halt or reverse Kron’s changes. A distraction was

needed.

“What did you do to that ball I gave you?” Kron asked. “How did

you put a soul inside it?”

Sal-thaath stared at him with open eyes. “I wanted to make it into an

artifact for storing life energy, something I could carry with me. Maybe

if you teach me how to make something like that, I’ll be nice to you and

not hurt you for too long.”

“Not if you’re going to put another soul in there.”

“Not just any soul. Bella’s.”

Anger made Kron lose his concentration for a heartbeat, or at least

long enough for the top to reopen. He clenched his fist, willing the neck

to close. Then he started on the rows of holes. The interior of the pot

dimmed before Kron could enchant a stone caught in the clay to give

off light.

Sal-thaath looked up. “What’s going on?” For the first time, he

sounded like a real boy, scared. Despite the wrench at his heart, Kron

forced himself to ignore the child’s fear and keep working.

Sal-thaath sprang over to the pot wall, but the hole in front of him

sealed itself before he could poke his finger through it.

“Kron!” he whined. “This isn’t fair!”

“Was it fair for you and your mother to torment and kill humans

without magic?”

Sal-thaath pounded on the wall. “Mother! Help!”

Kron ruthlessly finished making the walls completely solid. Nothing

could get in—or out. At least for now.

Sal-thaath turned from the wall, tear streaks gleaming on his cheeks.

His expression hardened. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Kron normally made portals out of openings, spaces where someone

could pass through. But this jar had given him another idea. What if he

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S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n

could use the jar itself as a portal? If he’d entered at one end, then per-

haps he could create another opening and escape to somewhere else—

back to Vistichia, where he’d sent the Avatars. But, what would he do

with Sal-thaath? The Four wouldn’t want the child in Their realm, and

Their magical barriers might keep Sal-thaath—and Kron—out. Maybe

Kron could seal Sal-thaath in the jar. What else could he do with some-

one who’d already died and returned back to life? It seemed cruel, but

it was less cruel than letting Sal-thaath go free.

Kron swept his arm in a circle, and the walls thinned, then flowed

toward the line he’d indicated. Sal-thaath glanced around and tried to

push through the new divider before it became solid.
Oh no, you don’t.

Kron borrowed the strength of the fire-starter’s metal and placed it into

the clay wall. The last he saw of Sal-thaath’s face was the boy staring

at him through a small gap, a forlorn expression in his eyes. The after-

image lingered for a few heartbeats in Kron’s mind once the wall was

complete. Then the wall trembled as if struck. Would Sal-thaath be able

to age it to destruction? Kron knew he had to leave before that hap-

pened.

He pushed against the outer edge of the jar, wishing now he’d left

the water holes open so he could see where he was.
Don’t be silly,
he

reminded himself.
You just have to see the place you’re portaling to in

your mind.
He thought of the Avatars’ courtyard as he’d seen it that

morning—was it still the same day? So much had happened. He ban-

ished all distractions and pictured the walks, the garden beds, the apple

tree in the corner. But the jar didn’t open. It rocked back and forth, as

if torn by Sal-thaath’s own struggle to escape.

Kron tried to break the jar, but neither magic nor his fists prevailed.

Even the wall separating him from Sal-thaath no longer responded to

him. What was going on? He’d never had an artifact stop working like

this before. Maybe the unknown metal was too strong. How much

longer could he stay in here before he needed air? Did time even have

any meaning when he was trapped in here with a magician who could

manipulate time?

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Kron rapped against the dividing wall, but the only response from

Sal-thaath was to rock the water clock harder. It almost felt as if he

wanted to push the entire jar to some unknown location. Perhaps if he

reached the crystal house, he’d be able to access its power. That

wouldn’t be good for anyone.

Well, if Sal-thaath can move the water jar, I should try to move it

away. Could I move it to Vistichia?
The distance would drain his

strength, but it would keep Sal-thaath from using his death-derived

magic. Kron wasn’t sure if Sal-thaath would be able to pass through the

Four’s barrier around the city, even if he was encased in a jar. But if he

could, then Kron would leave him for the Four to deal with.

Kron reached out with his magic and grabbed the entire water clock.

The effort made his vision dim. He focused instead on recalling every

detail of the Avatars’ courtyard. As before, he reached and reached

without connecting with the location, even though he’d just sent the

Avatars there. Had they arrived safely? Could their presence be affect-

ing his ability to portal there? He hoped that was the case.

Kron tried recalling several other locations in or near Vistichia: the

clearing in the woods where Salth had opened the portal, his first home

with Bella, the marketplace, even the harbor where he’d found the shell.

Nothing worked. He struggled to recall other places while the water jar

rocked back and forth and he fought for breath. All he could think of

was the Four’s new temple, or rather the former palace where the Ava-

tars had performed their soltrans.

SpringSummerFallWinter, help me....

At last his magical senses locked onto a solid location. Kron strained

with the last of his strength to bring himself and the water clock there,

even as the jar seemed to pull in another direction. A single heartbeat

stretched into forever as he clawed with every part of his will for home.

Then, with a loud crack, the jar split in two. Kron rolled out of his half

onto a dusty stone floor and lay there, gasping for breath.

“I knew I felt Kron Evenhanded!” Spring’s bright voice called.

“Welcome back, old friend.”

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S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n

He eased himself into a sitting position. Standing in front of him

were the Four Gods and Goddesses. Physically They hadn’t changed,

but They’d traded Their clothes for styles Kron didn’t recognize. Spring

and Fall wore long-sleeved, floor-length gowns of yellow and red re-

spectively, Their dresses embroidered with flowers. Summer and

Winter wore loose black leggings with white shirts and black overshirts

cut down the middle. Although Spring smiled at him, Winter looked

thoughtful, and Summer and Fall glowered.

Kron eased himself to his feet. “Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter.” Part

of himself urged him to bow to divinity, but he settled for nodding at

each of Them. “I’m glad to see all of You, but I wish You’d returned

sooner.”

Winter turned His head, a half-smile on His face.

“There’s nothing funny about this situation!” Kron shouted. “Why

did You urge the Avatars to face Salth so soon? They weren’t anywhere

near ready! The whole mission was a disaster. I don’t even know what

happened to Sal-thaath. And where are the Avatars? Are they safe?

Why couldn’t I portal to their house?”

“So many questions.” Spring stepped forward, hand stretched to-

ward him. “You were right, Kron. The Avatars weren’t ready for Salth

back then, but they needed to learn that for themselves. The memory

has given them reason to master their magic.”

“That, and Chaos Season,” Fall muttered.

“He’s not ready to hear about that, Fall.”

“Hear about what?” Kron asked. “And...memory? It hasn’t been that

long since we faced Salth, has it?”

The Four were silent, shifting so he couldn’t get even an indirect

look at Their eternal eyes.

Kron shuddered. “How long was I in that water clock?”

“Long enough that no one uses water clocks anymore.”

“Spring...”

“It’s been twelve lifetimes, Kron.” She lowered Her voice. “Over

eight hundred years.”

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Kron collapsed. Impossible. This had to be impossible, even for

Salth and Sal-thaath. But the Fours’ strange clothing and grave expres-

sions confirmed Spring’s story.

“The Avatars? Bella? What happened to them?”

“You might as well ask what hasn’t happened to them,” Spring re-

plied. “They may be gifted with Our power, but they’re still mortal,

Kron. While you were trapped, their spirits have passed from body to

body, life to life.”

“You mean she’s dead? Bella’s dead?”

“The Fall Avatar you knew as Bella died thirty-four years after your

ill-fated journey to Salth’s realm. But she was reborn twenty-two years

later. She’s lived and died ten times since you last saw her.”

Kron stared at Spring, trying to absorb what Her words meant.

Her smile became gentle. “Kron, Bella is currently named Ysabel

s’Ivena Lathatilltin and will turn eighteen falls this year. We have ar-

ranged matters so that she is still unmarried, not even betrothed. You

have the chance to win her heart again.”

“Then where is she?”

“She lives at the other end of Challen—that’s the name of Our entire

domain. Do you remember that group of refugees you met on the way

to Salth’s realm, the first group of people to smelt steel? That’s what

they call the metal your fire-starter is made from. Ysabel’s father is de-

scended from them. These people have found ways to travel safely in

Salth’s domain, and you and the other Avatars will need this knowledge

for your next attempt to break Salth’s house.”

“You still want us to try that? We accomplished nothing!”

“Oh, yes, you did,” Winter said. “You drove a gold wire into her

crystal house. She covered the end with crystal, but it’s still there, an

imperfection you can exploit.”

Fall stamped Her foot. “And you need to get it right this time, Kron,

so the seasons stop getting mixed up.”

“Mixed up?”

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S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n

“We think it happened when you tried to transport Sal-thaath into

Our city.” Spring’s voice cooled slightly. “You two battered against

Our barrier for hundreds of years, and you damaged it enough for Salth