Strange Attractors (31 page)

‘If you’ve found this message, you’re most likely looking for my notes on re-booting his hard drive, only that term is antiquated, of course. All the information you need is in the key codes, activated through holo-projection. The password is long. Don’t be daunted. If you watch the stars today, you will see it written in the sky.

‘All my love to you, Roses of our family line.

Docturi Janicia

May 23, 2098

Half Moon Bay, CA’

Kreshkali passed the letter around to the others.

‘What does it mean?’ Hotha held the paper as if it were sacred. He read the words again. ‘Activated through holo-projection.’

‘It’s a theory of consciousness,’ Grayson said. He was flipping through the textbook, pausing on an image of a chromosome magnified two million times its actual size. He passed it to Rosette. ‘This is what we’re after.’

‘Looks like a worm.’ She passed it to her mother.

‘Holo-projection?’ Hotha asked.

‘It’s a techno term for glamour,’ Kreshkali said. ‘The ability of consciousness to conjure an image and project it into “reality” for others to see. All we have to do is work out the password and tap into the key codes. The answer will be there, in the DNA.’

‘In my blood,’ Rosette said. ‘What’s the password then?’

‘She didn’t make it easy,’ An’ Lawrence said. ‘Watch the stars today? She couldn’t have known what day we would read this. Where do we begin?’ An’ Lawrence stood, leaning onto the back of the chair.

Rosette and Kreshkali exchanged smiles.

‘What was her sun sign?’ Rosette asked. ‘Scorpion?’

‘Yes, Scorpio—shrewd, secretive, intense.’ Kreshkali laughed. ‘Clever as daybreak. She was a cryptic witch but I can see the key to this lock now.’

‘Care to share?’ Hotha asked.

‘It’s written in the stars, of course.’ Kreshkali went to the nearest computer and switched it on.

Grayson frowned. ‘I don’t get it.’

‘She left us a date,’ Rosette said, tapping the note at the bottom. It was the first time she’d spoken directly to him since her arrival. ‘All we have to do is run the chart and read the planetary longitudes, or maybe the declinations. The password will be there.’

‘And then?’ Grayson’s brow remained wrinkled.

‘We use these diagrams to image the strands of DNA, projecting them like a glamour onto a blank wall,’ Rosette said. ‘As we insert the password, the key codes will open and we’ll have the information we need to bring Jarrod back.’ She looked at her mother. ‘Is that about right?’

‘Perfect, dear. Done and well done.’

‘Thank you.’ She beamed. ‘Now if you will all excuse me, I’m heading up to the gates.’

‘Drayco?’ An’ Lawrence said as Scylla jumped to her feet.

‘He’s just launched out of the portal and I think he needs to see me, right now!’

‘Go,’ An’ Lawrence said. ‘Before he terrorises the place.’

‘But he’s so gentle,’ Grayson said.

‘Not today.’ Rosette left the library, Scylla and Fynn on her heels.
I’m here, Dray. I’m here. It’s all right. I’m on my way.

Xane pounded the iron, sweat trickling down his temples. He had no idea how he was shaping the shoe to the precise fit, pumping the bellows to achieve the perfect white heat in the forge, using the hammer with the exact amount of force to draw out the toe-clip and finding just the right angle on the anvil to flatten one side of the shoe the minuscule amount necessary to match the mare’s right front hoof. He didn’t question it past a rushing feeling, a private moment of joy. He simply got on with the job.

With seven new nails hanging out the side of his mouth, he lifted the mare’s hoof, straddling it to rest between his knees. With the shoe in place, he set the first nail, tapping gently until giving one hard thwack to catch the bevelled edge. The nail popped out the side of the hoof wall, exactly where he wanted it. He repeated the process, three on the inside, four on the outside—all in neat rows. He twisted off the ends with his claw hammer, clenching the stubs tight with the nailing block and tapping them down, snug and secure. He finished off with a light rasp over the nail heads to smooth them and bring up a shine. When he put the hoof down and stood back, he’d never seen a better job in his life. He was certain that Willem and
the Stable Master would agree, but the looks on their faces were strained.

‘Walk her out,’ Willem said.

Maybe they were going to reserve judgement until they saw she was sound. She would be, of course. What were they worried about? He led the mare down the length of the breezeway, the sound of the men’s conversation hot in his ears.

‘He’s not even been to the shoeing barn more than a dozen times,’ Willem said. His voice was a whisper, not intended for Xane’s ears, but he heard him clearly enough.

‘I hadn’t thought to apprentice him there yet,’ the Stable Master said.

‘Seems we hardly need to.’

‘Hardly.’

‘He could instruct the Master Farrier.’

‘True.’

‘Have you noticed his words of late?’ Willem asked. ‘He’s using ones I never heard come from him before.’

‘I noticed.’

‘What do you think? Temple witch?’

‘Possible. The beasts passed him by without attacking. He admitted it himself.’

‘Do you think he’s from Dumarka?’

‘That would explain the way he has with animals. But why reveal it if he is a spy? Why show off such skills that an apprentice could never have?’

‘Maybe the hemlock’s addled his mind. He might have forgotten his purpose.’

‘Possible.’

‘Do we report him?’

‘Not yet.’ The Stable Master sighed. ‘He was just a kid on the street, with uncanny good horse sense. Now this.’

‘That’s how it can seem, with a witch’s glamour, sir.’

Xane turned the mare around and headed back, keeping his face smooth. He wanted to defend himself, to say that he really was just a street kid, but he kept silent, his expression unconcerned. Beneath the mask his mind churned over the facts. If he was who he remembered, Xane the street boy, brother to Shaea, where did he learn to shoe horses like a master, and why was he having such strange memories? And what about being able to hear and see anything he put his mind to, no matter how far away it was?
Anything I put my mind to.

For the moment, he put his mind to being the new apprentice who seemed to have a knack for blacksmithing. He planned to avoid being reported, whatever it took. He halted the mare in front of them, beaming his warmest smile. ‘She’s sound as gold,’ he said, slapping her neck affectionately.

‘That she is, lad,’ Willem said. ‘Stable her now and clean the tack. You’ll need to oil the saddle to get those scratches out.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Xane said, leading the horse away. He heard them even after he rounded the corner.

‘Keep an eye on him, and keep him close,’ the Stable Master said.

‘I’ll have a legion ready to march if we turn on Temple Dumarka. You want him along?’

‘By your side.’

‘Aye, sir,’ Willem said. ‘Nothing will get past me.’

Xane frowned as he led the mare back to her stall. The thought of marching on Temple Dumarka upset him, angered him, and he had no idea why. His loyalty was to Corsanon, wasn’t it? He’d seen what the temple cat had done at the gates. He didn’t know those guards, not that he could recognise them after the mauling,
but that didn’t explain his lack of compassion.
Lack of compassion? Willem is right. I do sound smarter, even in my own head.

He picked at the scab on his neck. There was no way he would be fighting the Dumarkian witches and their huge temple cats. Not because he was afraid, but because he didn’t want to hurt them. He laughed at his own thoughts.
How could I hurt a temple witch? I don’t even know how to use my sword much past a basic block and strike.

He went to the tack room, grateful to find no one there. Alone with his thoughts, he pondered the events of the last few days, his mind going again to the woman in the coach and her black temple cat.
Who are you, my beautiful witch? And more important, where did you go?

Rosette ran down the halls and out into the baking heat of the courtyard. The sky was hazy with smoke, the mountains spewing ash. The skyline was tinged sulphur yellow. She didn’t hesitate when she reached the bottom of the steps. She flexed her knees and sprang into the air, the ripples of her transformation making her hair dance around her face. In the next breath her feathers ripped through the sky as she shot over the trees towards the gates. The road became a single thread, snaking through the red sand. The corrugations on the dunes smoothed out until not a ripple was seen. She tilted her head slightly, spotting the Three Sisters flapping hard to stay abreast. Hotha ran below, chewing up the ground in his wolf form. Scylla led the way and Fynn ran behind.

Drayco!
She spotted her familiar. He was out of the portal and racing through the gates. She didn’t miss the blood-soaked fur, even from her height. Teg ran
beside him. He was all right. Relief.
I’m here, Drayco. Stop. Let me land. I’m here. I’m safe.

Maudi!
The temple cat slowed his pace, panting as she circled above him. Teg morphed, his wolf form blowing away with the wind and leaving him standing on two legs, holding out his bare arm for her to land.

Thank you!
She back-winged onto his wrist, jumping off as she shifted, the shock wave knocking him back. She was on her knees in the red dust, her arms around her familiar’s neck, her face buried in his crusted fur. ‘Drayco! I’m fine. You didn’t have to worry.’

‘
He did a long sight more than
worry
,’ Teg said.

She looked up at him, noting the fear in his eyes. ‘I’m glad you’re safe.’

‘Me too.’

Hotha caught up, skidding to a halt and shifting. Teg startled when the elder Lupin embraced him.

‘Are you all right, son?’

‘Nothing a long meditation won’t fix, but I can’t say the same for the guards we left behind.’

‘That bad?’

‘Drayco ripped through a dozen Corsanon warriors before we bolted to the portal.’ Teg looked behind him. ‘I’m just glad the Entity got him to you so quick, Rosette, and kept the Corsanons out.’

‘I can’t imagine what they are thinking now.’

Maudi, I had to find you.
He rubbed his face with his forepaw, flakes of dried blood falling to the ground.
They tried to stop me.

‘Oh, Dray.’ She hugged him tight. ‘It was a calling spell, an accident really. Kreshkali was looking for Janis Richter’s journals, her notes to help us bring Jarrod back, and it turns out they are in my blood.’

Kreshkali did this to you?
His tail snapped.

‘She meant no harm.’ Rosette stroked down his
hackles. ‘I’m so sorry this happened to us both.’ Rosette wanted to ask Hotha something about La Makee but he was having a private exchange with Teg. The younger Lupin did not appear comfortable, whatever was being said. ‘Come, Dray.’ She gave her familiar a playful slap. ‘Let me bathe you and find us both a meal.’

‘And then we best see what this fracas has caused in Corsanon,’ Hotha said.

She exchanged looks with Teg.
Trouble?

You could say that.

‘What a wondrous woods!’ Shaea turned in circles, her arms outstretched, her head tipped back to the dark green canopy. Beams of sunlight streaked down, dappling her skin. Her cloak was laid out over a boulder to dry and her hair flowed behind her in long strawberry-gold streams.

Shane watched her before taking in the tall, red-barked trees; their tips seemed leagues above him. The warm scent of the forest was a refreshing change from the cold desert land of Corsanon. Clay and the girl seemed curiously unconcerned by their new surroundings but he was not so naive. He recognised the scent and ambiance of the Dumarkian Woods, but when he looked for the meandering stream and the high arched bridge that led to the temple, it was nowhere to be seen. Where once there were open walkways and broad stone steps that led to the turreted meditation hall there now stood a few tumbled columns and a long granite slab covered with brambles and vines. This was not the Dumarka he knew, and he didn’t recall asking to be taken here in any case.

‘Wondrous and strange,’ Clay said to Shaea. He tuned his guitar and picked a sweet melody, the lightness of it floating away on the breeze.

‘It may be more strange than wondrous,’ Shane said. ‘It’s not how I remember it. What happened at the gates of Los Loma? Did either of you speak to the Entity?’

‘I did.’ Shaea stuck out her chin.

‘What did you say?’ Shane and Clay asked at the same time.

‘I said, get us as far away from here and the filthy streets of Corsanon as you can. And look!’ She spun around again, her dress opening like an umbrella. ‘We are in a beautiful green forest the likes of which I’ve never imagined.’

‘Someone’s imagined it,’ Shane said, grumbling.

She stopped spinning, letting her hands fall to her side. ‘Why so glum? We’re free!’

‘Are we?’ He looked at them both, stopping Shaea as she began another twirl. ‘We’ve no supplies, no idea of where or when we are. No idea of what might befall us after sundown.’

‘What do you mean
when
?’ Shaea asked.

‘Long past this temple’s day for sure,’ Clay said as he continued to play.

‘Exactly. What do we do now?’

‘Explore,’ Shaea said. She frowned back at him. ‘Don’t you want to investigate?’

A single kite cried out above them and Shane sighed. ‘I don’t see that we have any choice.’

‘There’s always a choice,’ Clay said.

‘Is there?’ Shane crossed his arms. ‘I’d love to hear it. What are our choices in this matter? Sit and play music until the sun goes down only to be eaten by bears at night?’

‘I suppose that would be one choice.’ Clay laughed. ‘But that’s not one I’m considering.’

‘Do share,’ Shaea said.

‘First up, we can always go back into the portal and see where else it will take us. Maybe it was just fulfilling Shaea’s wish, to experience some land far from Corsanon, lush and green. I suspect we only need to close our eyes and agree on a place to get us somewhere new. Imagination is everything, don’t you think?’