The Rift War (18 page)

"Be gone." Meghianna flicked her wrist at the glowing yellow mass that encased Edrout.
With an audible
pop,
it vanished. Only a few blue sparks in the air remained.

"I thank you, Lady," Baedrix whispered.

"You did well without me." The Queen of Snows smiled and patted his shoulder. "You
carried your part well. Edrout no doubt believes Emrillian is a child, either hiding in Quenlaque,
or she has yet to arrive."

"Not a woman grown, ready to do battle," Emrillian said, stepping out through the
shielding magic and leading the other two horses. "Thank you, Lord Baedrix."

"I live to serve." He bowed and tugged on his sword belt. "Will you take this back, or
should I keep it to continue the illusion?"

"Edrout is no fool. As long as he knows I ride with you, he will not attack. Not until he
has built up his allies and his numbers," Meghianna said. "Back to the tower, then on to
Quenlaque, to prepare for war."

"We might have a war on our hands before we reach Quenlaque," Emrillian said. She
stepped up to help Baedrix take Braenlicach from his sword belt to return to her. "Grandfather
contacted me. We have company coming." A tiny snort of laughter escaped her when Meghianna
and Baedrix both gave her confused frowns. "Our friends are coming from Moerta with
unwanted company. Grego sent a warning, though he certainly doesn't have the knack yet for
speaking through the Threads."

"And you do?" Meghianna chuckled when Emrillian blushed at her teasing criticism.
"Ah, I am still muzzy in my head from sleeping, waiting, living in my memories. I didn't hear
Mrillis contact you. What does he say we should do?"

"He said I am queen in my father's stead, and a good student, so he trusts me to devise
my own strategy without him looking over my shoulder." She grimaced as she finished
re-attaching the sword to her belt, and immediately swung up into the saddle.

"And?" Baedrix asked, deciding to be amused by the exasperated tone she used, and to
ignore the fact that the man she spoke of with affection and frustration was Mrillis the enchanter,
in whom was anchored all the magic of the entire world, through the missing Zygradon.

"I think I would be a fool not to take advantage of those with far more experience and
wisdom. Aunt Meggi, you will ride with us?"

"Of course. What did you think I would do?" Meghianna swung up into her saddle.

"I think that with the threat to the dome even stronger now, you might ride to catch up
with Grandfather and Graddon, to prepare to either brace the dome against collapse, or bring it
down under your own terms." Emrillian nudged her horse, and the three of them moved out of
the clearing.

"Stronger how?" Baedrix said. He shuddered at the thought of the dome woven of
Threads collapsing down across the entire continent of Lygroes. With only a vague idea of how
magic kept the land safe in a slower current of time, he had a vision of being thrust forward into
the future like a boy slung mud pies with a slingshot. The people of the future would suffer, and
the mud pie itself would be annihilated.

"If the Directorate people acted quicker than we thought and took our friends captive for
at least part of the journey..." Her face went grin, and her eyes lost their focus as she gazed
westward toward the unseen coast. "They could be attempting to drain power from the Threads
sooner than we anticipated. If I were in their place and invading people's homes in pursuit of a
dangerous, deadly metal, and I lost contact with my team..." Her mouth flattened more.

Baedrix pitied her, the weight she carried, and he admired her for calmly facing what
had to be a grim and unwelcome realization. He only partly understood what she talked about,
after the brief lessons given on the structure of the world of the future.

"I would step up the schedule to tap and drain the power of the Threads," Emrillian said.
"I would attack where I could, on as many fronts as I could. They will send ships to the edge of
the Death Zone, carrying their equipment, and send more people down the tunnel. And for every
day that we live here, ten pass for them. They have plenty of time on their side." She dug her
heels into her horse's sides.

"Teach me about your world, Emmi," Meghianna said as their horses trotted through the
gap in the trees. "I need to see Moerta through your eyes, your heart." She cast out Threads of
purple and green and blue, streamers that hung in the air until Emrillian let go of her reins and
reached for them. The Threads flashed silver and faded into the air.

"Let me ride point," Baedrix said, urging his horse around them when the trail widened.
"You'll be distracted."

"Not that much, but enough. Thank you," Emrillian said. "We are in a race now. Don't
spare us."

"Yes, Highness." He exchanged a grim smile with her as they exchanged places. "Lady
Warhawk."

* * * *

Grego stood at attention at Emrillian's side, watching the gaping black mouth of the
tunnel from Moerta. He reflected that less than two days ago, the people had waited with joy as
Mrillis, Graddon, Emrillian and he came out of the darkness. There was a difference this late
morning. Some arriving were friends, servants of the queen. Others were possible enemies. It all
depended on who Kayn had sent, and if the man had been paranoid enough to lead the assault
team on the Rakkell estate himself. And if he had brought the power siphon equipment. How
effective would Mrillis' technology-killing spell be against equipment that drained away the
power behind the magic?

"They come." Meghianna strode through the trees and shadows to the cleared area
where Emrillian and her inner circle of supporters waited.

Grego smiled, seeing how some people stepped back or jerked, startled at the
appearance of the Queen of Snows. He liked Meghianna much more than all the various
incarnations of her, played out during dramas at the Archaics meetings. The resemblance
between her and Emrillian was strong, despite her coloring. The affection between Meghianna
and her niece was very clear, and Grego relaxed, knowing such a powerful enchantress would
keep Emrillian safe no matter what happened.

"Aunt Meggi, do you sense anything?" Emrillian asked. She almost left the improvised
throne that Eleanora insisted she use, to impress the newcomers.

"You mean, their minds? Their thoughts and potentials?" Meghianna shook her head, a
faint smile gleaming softly. "Your
imbrose
is strong. Use it."

Emrillian wrinkled her nose at her aunt and settled back in her chair, pouting for a few
seconds until a mischievous smile destroyed her pretense of regal disappointment. Next to her,
Eleanora watched the casual interplay, her face a mix of amusement and wonder. She leaned a
little closer to Emrillian. Standing on the other side of the throne, Baedrix straightened and stared
ahead, as if he could see through the shadows of the tunnel mouth.

The whinny of a horse and the soft tapping of hooves on stone came from the darkness.
A shaft of light broke the blackness. It turned to blue, glittering for a second. Grego flinched,
remembering the discomfort and shock when Mrillis placed the translation spell on him. He
wondered how the newcomers reacted to their taste of enchantment. They would like it less if
they couldn't understand the words spoken to them.

In the forefront of the group emerging from the shadows walked Liris, the man who had
run the estate in Moerta. He was dressed for the time and culture. Grego wondered what the
man's position would be here in Quenlaque. Steward, seneschal, advisor?

After him walked the three other members of the Rakkell household, followed by an
even dozen people wearing the one-piece field uniforms of the Science Directorate. The fact that
they were on foot and not driving powered carts was encouraging. They all carried heavily
loaded packs. Grego wondered how much equipment they had to abandon in the tunnel when all
power died under Mrillis' protective enchantment.

What mattered most to him was that Kayn was nowhere among the bruised, somewhat
grimy, bandaged people who walked out, blinking in the change of bright sunlight after tunnel
dimness. He didn't care about the visible weapons among all their equipment, even though it had
meant they had come prepared to take the star-metal they found by force, and forcibly evict the
residents of the Rakkell Estate.

Behind the Directorate people walked others in Archaics costumes, with battered
homemade chain mail, armed with swords, bows, and spears. They walked proudly, in formation
as if for a tournament pageant. Shalara and Karstis walked together. Her bow guard and his
browband sparkled with magic in use.

"They did it," Grego murmured, turning to meet Emrillian's wide grin.

"I count at least thirty." Emrillian gripped the arms of her chair. "Grego, you should take
point on this."

"My first duty as Queen's Ambassador?" he murmured. He glanced at Baedrix and
Meghianna, who both nodded approval. Baedrix made a half-bow, gesturing for Grego to step
out and proceed. "Estall, protect us," he said, and rubbed his star-metal ring as he bowed
formally to Emrillian, then turned to walk out to meet the new arrivals.

Liris led the way from the tunnel mouth, heading straight for Emrillian. He gave
head-and-shoulder bows to the Valors who stood at attention, weapons ready but not drawn, forming
an aisle leading to the throne. Halfway across the clear space, he gestured at the Science
Directorate people to wait, and then he and the household staff continued the rest of the way to
meet Emrillian. He winked at Grego as they passed each other. The Archaics split, going around
the Directorate people, and some of them broke ranks, hurrying forward a few steps and calling
his name when they saw Grego. They slowed soon enough when Valors stepped forward,
weapons flashing in the late morning sunshine.

"Welcome, Archaics. Welcome loyal friends, to the kingdom of Quenlaque," Grego
called.

"Quenlaque?" Dr. Reynod looked around, turning so fast that Grego's neck ached in
sympathy. "Cavvon?" he said, voice cracking.

He had the look of someone who'd spent his life behind a desk, studying a computer
screen. Only emergencies could drag him from his office, away from reports and charts. From
his dusty brown hair to dull blue eyes to the slightly slouched shoulders and beginning of a
potbelly, he was someone unable to enjoy the reality pulsing with life all around him. Grego
knew he was a hopeless case.

"It's me." He hadn't had much contact with Dr. Reynod, but knew his reputation. This
wouldn't be as problematic as dealing with Kayn, but Reynod's one-track mind and sometimes
childish attitude would set the tone for the others, who were on his team specifically because
they would follow his lead.

"Grego?" Brysta stepped out from the knot of scientists following in Reynod's
shadow.

He groaned, knowing a manageable situation had just gone sour. What he needed was to
take her aside to talk for fifteen minutes, tops. Brysta's familiarity with the Archaics and with
Emrillian could either be her biggest help in acclimating to the reality here, or her biggest
hindrance.

"Is this where you vanished to?" She gestured at Shalara and Karstis. "Is this the big
secret they were keeping from me, all their cryptic little comments? I don't like your friends very
much. It's a rotten trick."

Definitely a hindrance.

I'm sorry,
Emrillian said.
If I could have prevented her from coming, I
would have.

Grego didn't turn to look over his shoulder at her. He knew the sympathy creasing her
face.

I made my choice for Quenlaque long ago.
He squared his shoulders, took a
deep breath, and continued forward. "Welcome, members of the Science Directorate, to the land
of Lygroes and the kingdom of Quenlaque."

"Now is not the time to play games," Brysta began, her voice a wail, before two of her
co-workers caught her and pulled her back into their sheltering knot. They all paid more attention
to the Valors with their drawn weapons, stern faces focused on them, than on Grego and their
leader. Brysta looked pale as she fell silent. She gave him one pleading look of pained betrayal,
and let her friends hide her from view.

"What do you mean, Quenlaque?" Narrow-faced Dr. Reynod looked around, blinking as
if he saw the Valors and their weapons for the first time. The other Directorate people stayed in a
clump behind him, muttering and peering around cautiously. Someone held out a scanner and let
out a few muffled curses when the device didn't light up.

"I mean the real, original Quenlaque, castle and fortress, headquarters of the High King,
Athrar Warhawk. All this land is what is left of the continent of Lygroes. Most of it belongs to
Quenlaque, but the southern portion is under the control of the Encindi and rebels." Grego
gestured south and thought a quick prayer of thanks that he had spent some time learning
yesterday and this morning, instead of being strictly a teacher. He hadn't thought about having to
teach others from his own time and culture about this world and time they had emerged into. The
Archaics wouldn't need to be taught--they would devour information with religious fervor.

"Seriously?" Reynod sneered and gestured around at the armored Valors, at Emrillian
and the household staff, who had been greeted now and moved toward the tents waiting for them.
He made a rude gesture at the Archaics, who stood at attention while stealing wide-eyed glances
in every direction, their grins wider and brighter with every moment that passed. "It looks like
more play-acting. How did you get down the tunnel? And those mutated animals that attacked
us..." He shook his head. "Whatever games you people are playing, you're in over your heads.
Two members of my team are dead. Forget all the things Kayn has said about you. You are
definitely not a harmless lunatic with something useful to offer."