The Way of the Black Beast (25 page)

Cole tilted her head like a big sister revealing the truth about boys. "No, you don't. Oh, my dear, sweet little Malja, life can be so unfair. Your fathers opened world after world, trying to unlock their secrets. They found many worlds with no magic at all — just machines. So they came to me. They wanted me to build many things — machines to stabilize the portals, machines to boost their magic, machines to test the portals, all kinds of things."

"And you did this, of course."

"Jarik and Callib aren't the types that really offer much choice, now are they?"

"I suppose not."

"Well, there it is. I built what I could, but we still couldn't get through the portals. One morning, they opened a portal, and it must have materialized right beneath your mother because she just fell into our world."

"Fell?"

"We all stood there, just stuck in shock. We'd never had anything like that happen before. She had a baby in her arms — you. And she clutched you tightly like she knew what was about to happen. She stared at us with the widest eyes I've ever seen. Scared me into praying to the brother gods for a moment."

"What did she say? What did she look like?"

"She looked a lot like you — long, dark hair, strong face. If not for the fear in her eyes, she'd have been a striking woman. She spoke a lot, but it wasn't in any language I ever heard. Callib, though, he reacted like she had come to cause another Devastation. He saw something in that portal, and it scared him something awful. He shut down the machines and yelled out his magic. The portal sealed and sucked your mother back into it in the process. You, however, remained."

"She let me go?"

"No. The force of the portal stripped you from her arms. She screamed as it brought her back in. Most heart-wrenching thing I ever heard in my life. Callib stared at you like you were the spawn of evil. He wanted to destroy you. Dissect you, too, no doubt. But Jarik picked you up, and that was that."

"Then why did they get rid of me? If I'm the only one who can pass through the portal, if Jarik saved me, if any of what you're saying is true, then why toss me into the woods?"

Cole stifled a yawn. "Didn't know what they had, did they? I'm sure they wish they could take it all back just so they could use you. Now, I've told you enough."

"You sit there and tell me everything."

"You going to kill me? Then who'll tell you the rest? I gave you some of it, but I still have a few bits left and those'll keep me alive, thank you. So, now, I'm going to sleep. We've got a lot of hiking to do tomorrow."

Malja kicked her heel into the dirt and swore. As Cole rested her head on the ground, Malja joined Skvalan in squinting at the fire. She tried to stay angry at Cole, but the woman had given her more information than she ever had before. She saw her mother reaching for her like the campfire flames straining toward the night sky. Sleep would be a long time in coming.

* * * *

The rain began before sunrise — heavy, thick drops at first followed by drizzle, then heavy again. The ground became mush in seconds. Malja, Cole, and Skvalan hiked through the damp forest and over muddy hills, keeping their heads down and saying little. Being Muyaza, Skvalan cringed under the cold droplets, but Malja refused to baby him, and she suspected he would resent such help anyway. Skvalan would push through his cultural issue, if for no other reason than to prove his toughness and his worth to the group.

Malja required no proof from either Skvalan or Cole. Hiking mile after mile in chilling rain without the aid of horses proved enough. She only wished they could move faster. Jarik and Callib had hours on them, and the bastards could float over obstacles that slowed Malja's progress. She didn't fear losing them — with Cole's help, she would find them. But with the frame in their possession, Malja feared they'd have too much time to cast their spells.

Cole stopped. Massaging her hip, she said, "My, my, my. Take a look at that."

Malja trudged back and followed Cole's gaze. In the distance, nestled discretely behind a wall of oak, stood the ruins of an old mansion. Vines had engulfed much of its front helping obscure it from notice even more.

"We should keep moving," Malja said.

"Hold on. There might be supplies in there. At the least, we could get dry, build a fire, get warm."

"We're already too far behind," she said, seeing Skvalan's longing. "Stopping here will only make it worse."

"Maybe so, maybe not. Who can really know? But I know this — if I don't get a tiny bit of comfort, I won't be worth a thing in another mile."

Malja considered leaving Cole behind. She could find the City of Ashes on her own. Two powerful magicians couldn't be that difficult to locate — people talk, and Jarik and Callib were probably well-known in the city. She could do it. It would take longer, that's all. She took several steps up the path. A lot longer.

She kicked the muddy ground. "We'll rest for an hour, then it's back on the hike."

Cole had the sense to stay quiet.

Skvalan broke apart another hand-crafted chair to feed the fire. They were in the foyer — a massive room of marble columns, curving stairs, and stained-glass. Two statues guarded the front door — the Prophet Galot on the left, and the magician Moonlo on the right. Moonlo looked gaunt compared to the well-fed image of Galot, but his stern expression spoke to the firm will power and unending faith that helped him write and spread the Book of Kryssta.

"Guess they couldn't make up their minds," Cole said.

"What?" Malja asked. Cole had been flitting about the mansion, commenting on its fine architecture and relatively good condition since they had arrived. Malja chose to ignore her as much as possible.

"The owners," Cole said. "Not very religious, I guess. Or maybe too religious."

"Sit down already. You're the one who said you needed rest."

"I know, but this place is amazing. People have probably walked by for a hundred years and never knew it was nestled back here like a buried treasure. You understand that? It's practically untouched."

"That's right. So we've got chairs to burn."

Skvalan tossed the last bits of wood into the fire and settled with his back against a thick column. Cole rolled her eyes. "Well," she said, drawing out the word like a disapproving parent, "the two of you may have no appreciation for the riches to be found here, but I do. Enjoy the fire. I promise to return for some rest before we go, but first I've got to see what else I can find."

"No, Cole, you stay," Malja said, but Cole continued to rummage through a pile of discarded things in one corner. "We are too close to the enemy." Cole moved on to a small wooden desk with numerous drawers. "This is not the time for scavenging."

"Praise Kryssta and Korstra and whoever else you fancy, look what I found." From the bottom drawer, she pulled out two bottles of wine. The labels were torn and faded but the distinctive pyramid-shaped bottle meant they were Luntland — among the finest wineries before the Devastation. So fine that people still knew the name. "Here's one bottle for you and one for me. Now I'm off to check the rest of the house." With a triumphant gait, Cole sped up the stairs.

Malja and Skvalan wasted no time. A clean strike from Viper cut open the bottle. Skvalan found a light, metal bowl in the trash pile. Malja raised her first toast to Cole — an undamaged bowl like this was rare. If she had a horse, Malja would have loaded it with everything she could find. Instead, she and Skvalan emptied the bottle by the bowlful.

"You don't talk much," Malja said, resting her woozy head and watching the fire's smoke weave up to the ceiling three floors above.
Didn't mean to drink so fast.

"No speak well."

"That's okay. I'm comfortable around quiet ones."

Silence settled between them. Sounds of Cole bumping through the house mixed with the drumming rain like the beginning beat of Cole's music magic, but between Malja and Skvalan — silence. Until Skvalan sniffed loudly and said, "We go soon."

Malja opened her eyes (she hadn't realized she drifted off). "I know. I want to go, too. But I'm starting to think Cole is right. I mean, obviously, we don't have to track them. Cole knows exactly where they're going. And there's no way for us to catch them — we're too slow on foot. So, might as well rest and do the best we can tomorrow."

Skvalan placed his small pack under his head. "No good."

"I know no good. That's because I'm lying. I mean all I just said is true, but I'm not telling it all. See, I don't care if Jarik and Callib open another world. I don't even care if they destroy this one. I just want Tommy back. That's all. I should never have left him. That's why I've kept pushing us so hard. And now maybe Cole's right. She won't say it out loud, but maybe she's right. Maybe Tommy's in the middle of Dead Lake. Maybe he's dead."

Skvalan opened his bag and pulled out his wife's braided hair. "Wife dead. I see. Tommy no see. Tommy no dead."

"Don't give up, eh? Don't worry. I'm drunk and I'm babbling. Trying to convince myself. Prepare. Gregor always told me to prepare for the worst, because then you won't be disappointed. Trouble with that is you can end up lying to yourself. Jarik and Callib — I know them. I try to tell myself they were something else, but they're not. They're evil. And they raised me, influenced me for ten years. Maybe that makes me evil, too. Can a person overcome that? I know Callib wants to change everything, run the world his way. But he'll destroy everything good. Then they'll be nothing left for Tommy. So, I guess I do care if they cause another Devastation. That's something, right?" The fire crackled and Malja watched the sparks drift upward. "I do care."

Skvalan stroked the braided hair with his thumb.

"I've drunk too much. Don't listen to me. I'm just tired and angry and confused. And drunk."

Malja closed her eyes and felt her body drift with the sparks and sweet-smelling smoke. Things had been simpler long ago. She woke each morning with one easy task — hunt for food. After that, the day was hers. If she could just let go of all her rage, just forget Jarik and Callib — they never existed. Only Gregor. He was her father.

But every time she tried, reality reared in her mind. Now she saw her mother reaching out for her. Now she saw Jarik taking her away. And now that bastard had taken Tommy. He must have. Any other scenario would have left a body or blood or some evidence. To leave nothing at all but scorch marks — that's the work of magic.

Even though she heard laughter from her mouth and her body shook, Malja also felt tears trickle on her face. "It's over," she said, jerking Skvalan from his own slumber. "I can act tough forever, and it won't matter. I care. I do. But we can't stop them if we can't get to them. You want to know why I agreed to come in here, why I got drunk, why I let Cole go running around? Because it's over. We lose."

Skvalan shook his head and spit to the side. He might not have understood a lot of her words, but Malja could tell he understood her tone. Perhaps the alcohol had gotten to her or the unyielding stress — whatever the cause, she felt tears. Not crying, pitiful tears but raging, frustrated ones. She wanted to pummel something, assert her strength, remind this Muyaza why he feared her not too long ago. She watched the fire cast orange and black against the walls. She didn't move.

Cole darted into the room, her face flushed, and said, "You must come see this."

If not for Cole's urgency, Malja would have rolled over and slept. Instead, she let Skvalan help her up. They followed Cole through the elegant corridors of the mansion. These weren't the sterile white of Barris Mont's old office or the decayed grandeur of Ms. Nolan's place. These walls hinted at a youthful, new wealth with plenty of technological remnants that Malja had no knowledge of how to use. No wonder Cole wanted to snoop around here.

Cole led them into a wide open room of cool, smooth stone and sharp, musty odors. A blue, boxy contraption on four wheels filled up half the room. Cole ran her hand along the thing and slapped its metal body.

"Have you ever seen one in such good condition?"

Malja rubbed her head — she still felt a bit tipsy. "What is it?"

"Why it's a grounder, silly."

Malja inspected the grounder again, trying to imagine it as one of the rusting, hollowed out shells that dotted the world. "Didn't know they had wheels."

"They did, and a lot more. This one has been sitting here, protected from rain and wind and animals and thieves, just waiting for us. All it needs is some power and a little attention, then it'll run."

Skvalan nodded. "It is like horse?"

"Better than a horse. With this we can follow the old roads and even with stopping to clear overgrowth and as long as we don't suffer any major breakdowns, we'll reach the City of Ashes by tomorrow night. We just have to change the batteries." Cole hefted a pack of two large cylinders encircled with a coil.

"Well," Malja said, "unless one of you has suddenly become a magician and can produce electricity, this is all pretty useless to us."

"These batteries are in excellent condition. The best I've ever seen. Even if it takes us two days to find power, we'd still—" Cole stopped, her mouth agape, her eyes lost. "Willie?"

Malja turned around. Willie stood in the doorway.