Strange Attractors (52 page)

Where are you going?

To Dumarka. I want to get there before they do.

We need more than the two of us to defend the temple.

If Kreshkali is doing what I think she is, we won’t. Can you bespeak her?

I will. And you?

I’m going north, picking up Drayco and the bards. Meet you in the Dumarkian Woods?

Meet you there, if the mistress consents!
He turned north, crossing the road and heading west, tuning his mind towards Kreshkali. No answer.

And, Teg.
Rosette’s voice sounded distant.
Stay off the road. Stay out of sight.

Aye. Thanks. I thought that was what I’d been doing.

He thought he
had
stayed off the road and out of sight. But the lad on the grey mare came to mind, giving him a tingling sensation in his spine. Interesting. He ran on, keeping north, keeping alert. A few leagues off the main road he stopped at a creek and drank his fill. He sat on the bank, watching the water float by.

Mistress? Are you about?

He sent his thoughts out to Kreshkali, wondering if she was near enough to hear him but keeping his mind shield up in case the Corsanon temple priestesses were close by too.

Where are you, Teg?

He stood, his tail waving back and forth of its own accord.
I’m north of the main road.
He sniffed the air.
Not far from the sea. A creek, a stand of eucalypts, scattered oaks.
He shook his head.
Way too many flies.

Show me.

He opened his eyes wide, taking in the river and the pastures beyond the gum trees lining the waterway, thinning into small scatterings of oak and laurel; rolling fields spread out before him and windswept cypresses leading to the sea.

I’ve got you. Sit tight.

He crouched to the ground, his front paws in the stream. He drank again, his tail sweeping the leaves from side to side.

Rosette heard the whistle before she spotted the lads. She smiled. At least the high end of her hearing was coming back. The shrill notes from Shane’s instrument flew up to meet her, an eerie melody with the lower
notes missing—like the sound of a tiny bird calling. Clay was sitting on a stump, playing his guitar. She couldn’t hear the chords or the sound of his voice; only the flute and the rush of the wind registered.

Maudi?
Drayco was on his feet, sniffing the air.

Shane stopped playing and scanned the sky. ‘Dear heart.’ He held out his arm, giving her clear landing.

I’m coming.
She stalled overhead, dropped to his wrist and morphed to the ground. Drayco jumped up, his paws on her shoulders. She tussled with him, gripping his neck. ‘I wasn’t gone long, lovely.’

Both lads were talking at once. She couldn’t understand either of them. She held up her hand for silence and motioned them to sit. Raking the ground in front of them, she drew a map with her finger, pointing out the groups of Corsanon warriors and those from Temple Los Loma, and the Lupins and An’ Lawrence’s riders as well.

‘Crap, Rosette,’ Clay said slowly. There was no mistaking his words.

Again they talked at once, gesturing to her, to the map and into the distance.

‘I’m sure all your ideas are grand, but I’ve got to get to Temple Dumarka. I’ve got to catch up with Kreshkali. I’m not certain what she’s planning, but Corsanon has it in their mind that the temple cats have become minions of evil. They are out for blood. I have to help.’

More talking. She couldn’t make out what they said.

‘Look, you two, stop. Ride with us to Dumarka. Stick to the coast road and stay out of the warriors’ way, either side.’ She leaned close, making her voice soft in her head. ‘I could use the help.’

They were mounted up and tailing her seconds after she morphed into wolf form. They galloped behind her and Drayco, all headed for the Dumarkian Woods.

Kreshkali hugged the coastline, spotting the stream. She followed it inland until the grove of gum trees was visible, their white bark peeling in long strips as they did this time of year, blue-green leaves dancing in the breeze, a hint of their medicinal fragrance in the air. Teg had shifted to his human form and was bathing in the creek, his naked shoulders dappled with sunlight. She circled, calling out in her falcon whistle.

Mistress?

Is the water warm, Teg?

Freezing. I love it.

She perched high in the treetop, fanning her wings as the branch swayed under her weight. He climbed out of the water, his body glistening. He was nearly hairless, his skin tan, smooth, muscles flexing as he wrung his hair and shook out his clothes. He had stunning tattoos, unusual among Lupins. Maluka was the only other one she knew who’d been marked. She exhaled, realising she’d held her breath.

He put on his pants and extended his bare arm for her to land. She gripped his wrist before hopping to the ground. The shock wave made him squint. When the ripple passed, he opened his eyes, dark, dreamy, aware.

‘I thought I sent you to An’ Lawrence,’ she said. ‘What are you doing this far north?’

‘I found Rosette.’ He shook his head. ‘She found me, actually.’

He filled her in while she stripped off her cloak and knelt by the stream, washing her hands. The water played over her tattooed fingers, turning the ink jet black. She drank the cool water with its faint taste of
the earth. ‘Rosette’s heading to Dumarka? Alone? An’ Lawrence is facing off the Corsanons, their four to his one? What about Hotha? Where’s he now?’

‘South, backing up An’ Lawrence.’

‘You mean getting himself trapped between the Corsanons.’

‘We all are now.’

Kreshkali took his hand and he pulled her up. He held on for a moment as she stood in front of him. Warmth. Energy. He let go.

‘Are you run out yet?’ she asked.

‘I’m Lupin. I never run out.’ He gave her a half smile and she pretended not to see it.

‘I wish I’d put La Makee in the midst of this mess. Let her get a taste of what she’s done,’ she said. She clicked her tongue. ‘Here’s what we’ll do.’ She retrieved her cloak, clasping it at the neck. ‘You catch up to Rosette and Drayco. The bards are with her?’

‘On horseback.’ He nodded.

‘All right. Good. You stick with them and cut in front of those temple witches and their warriors.’ She squeezed his arm, the muscle like steel under soft skin. ‘Stay hidden. I think a Lupin trophy is high on their list of priorities.’

‘Rosette said that too.’ He looked at her hand still on his arm and stepped closer. She told her legs to take a step back but her body didn’t obey.

‘And you, Mistress? What will you do?’ he whispered.

She swallowed. ‘I’ll get Hotha and half his Lupins to meet us.’ She hesitated. ‘At Dumarka.’

He stepped closer still, his breath sweet, warm.

‘Teg. We’re in the middle of a battlefield.’

His hand touched her cheek.

‘Teg…’

He lifted her chin and bent towards her. She felt a thousand choices rise up to meet him. When his lips touched hers, she let them all melt away. The kiss washed over her like waves on the shore. When he stepped back, she looked at a man she’d never seen before. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.

‘I’ll meet you in Dumarka,’ he said.

She nodded, dropped to one knee and leapt, arrowing into the sky. Her falcon whistle sounded over the headlands as she let the thermals carry her higher.

N
ell blasted through the portal, the sulphur taste in her mouth sending her into coughing fits. A flock of sea birds took flight, filling the sky with white noise. The Three Sisters added their caws and croaks, flapping in circles, black against the grey ash. Nell leapt to the air, joining them, flying the perimeter of Temple Los Loma before dropping into the courtyard. Grayson and Maluka were below, shoulder to shoulder, Fynn behind. She whistled loud and back-winged onto Grayson’s arm.

‘Makee!’ Nell screamed as she morphed, taking in the burnt buildings and broken water ducts. ‘This is her work?’

‘She isn’t here,’ Grayson said, shaking his head.

‘She isn’t, but she’d want to be.’ Nell stormed up the steps, leaving the others to follow. ‘Where is everyone?’ She strode through the hall to the library. Annadusa came trotting down the stairs, her hair unbraided, trailing behind.

‘I’ve sent them back, most of them,’ she said, meeting Nell halfway.

‘Back where?’

‘To Gaela. To Los Loma, Gaela.’ Annadusa held up her hand. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Nellion Paree. You weren’t here. You don’t know what’s happened.’

‘I can see what’s happened. The mountains are boiling, ice caps melting, seas rising. Is all of Half Moon Bay under water? The Sierras about to blow?’

Grayson nodded. Annadusa confirmed as well.

Nell let out her breath, clenching her fists. ‘I will not lose this temple ground. I will not let Earth go under.’

‘Nell.’ Grayson put his hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off.

‘This is a glamour. Can’t you see that?’

They stared at her. Blank.

‘This is a consensus reality. One of many. That’s all. I will change it.’

Grayson brushed the ash out of his hair. ‘A glamour? If so, it’s a damn convincing one.’

Annadusa stepped closer. ‘Nell, Earth’s had it. She’s fighting back.’

Nell’s eyebrows lifted. ‘You think so?’

‘I do.’

The others nodded.

‘And just what kind of consensus reality do you think a belief like that would create?’

Annadusa crossed her arms under her breasts. ‘You’re saying it’s our fault?’

‘I’m saying this reality, set in motion by La Makee, must be changed! She’s closing the door on this world.’

Maluka’s head shot up. ‘To keep the trackers out of Gaela!’

Nell turned to her. ‘Precisely.’

‘Isn’t that going to mess with the many-worlds? Cutting off Earth?’ Maluka reached for Grayson’s hand and he took it.

‘Right again,’ Nell said.

The others sank into chairs, eyes on Nell.

‘We can turn it around,’ she said, her voice softer.

Annadusa frowned. ‘How.’

‘First up, we run a little experiment.’ She had their attention. ‘We restore some natural balance to these rampant molecules. We need to open some doors.’

‘They aren’t locked?’

‘They are, but I’ve got the keys.’

‘You’re not the only one,’ Grayson said.

‘How’s that?’

‘ASSIST. They’re closing in.’

‘Out here?’

Maluka shook her head. ‘They’re using the portals.’

Kreshkali felt a rush of relief. She’d spotted Hotha just as she, Nell, got back to Temple Los Loma. There was still time. She winged in, Hotha’s eyes closing when she morphed in front of him.

‘You look flushed, my queen,’ he said, shielding his face from the shock wave.

‘Headwind.’ Lupins loped past, barely visible in the tree cover. ‘Hotha, can you bring some of the clan north, to Dumarka?’

‘The scouts have slipped by? Are they on the doorstep?’

She nodded.

‘You’ve been consulting with Teg?’

She felt heat rise to her face and dispelled it. ‘He’s given me the lie of it, yes.’

‘But only a taste?’

She knitted her brows. ‘Don’t play games with words, Hotha. This is the moment, the crucial one. We can save Temple Dumarka or we can lose her forever.’

Hotha winked, apparently not ready to let it drop. ‘He’s your apprentice. My son…’

She smiled. ‘And a fine one. Thank you. Now answer my question. Can you come with me north? I don’t have time to beg.’

Hotha tilted his head. ‘What about the spell? Makee?’

‘I’ve left Makee with a little puzzle to ponder. Rosette has the spell.’

‘Good work.’

‘She is my apprentice as well.’

‘A testimony to your…’

‘Hotha, shut up! For a bloodthirsty race, you Lupins have a hard time keeping your minds on the battle.’

‘Bloodthirsty?’

‘As the stories go.’

‘The stories be wrong.’

‘I’m beginning to believe that now.’

He stepped closer, leaning in. She planted her hand on his chest, sending a wave of energy to his heart. ‘Dumarka? Now?’

‘Where are your birds?’

‘The Three Sisters? Nell’s got them, Temple Los Loma.’

‘They might have served better here.’ He looked skyward. ‘Scout?’

‘I’ll fly.’ She touched his cheek, giving him a light pat. ‘Don’t pout, Hotha. I won’t let you run into the Corsanon temple witches.’

‘Unless they’ve woven a glamour even you can’t see through.’

‘Unless that.’

His eyes softened and he leaned towards her face. She clapped her hands, dropping to one knee before launching skyward.

Bring the Lupins, Hotha, plenty of them. Corsanon must not set foot in Dumarka’s sacred woods.

Xane felt the clouds approaching. The wind got under his skin and he knew the storm was uncanny. He shivered. He really didn’t like the cold. He liked even less riding with the Corsanon temple priestesses. They were silent, using mental speech among themselves, or so he suspected. He couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear their horses either—the tall, perfectly matched palominos with their long flaxen manes and tails—not a snort or a stumble. They never put a foot wrong. He felt out of place and not just because he rode an unschooled grey mare that spooked and crow-hopped at every twig that snapped and every owl that hooted.

He felt claustrophobic. It wasn’t too many leagues into the tree cover before he couldn’t stand it any more—the constraint, the formality, the foreboding. He was desperate to get away and imagination seemed his only escape. He let his mind wander, a young dog without a leash.