Robert Charrette: Find your own truth

"But there's a bleeding fortune here just waiting to be gathered," Harrier whined. "I didn't come for money." "Well, I bloody well did. There's enough opal here to let us all live like bosses of the biggest megacorps. You can't just walk away from this."

"I can and I will. I have more important things to do than grub up money." Sam walked to the bridge.

By the reflection in the pool, Sam saw Harrier scramble to his feet and point an accusing finger. "That's why you're walking out with a bleeding fortune in your hands."

"I'm walking out with someone's salvation," Sam said. He crossed the bridge.

"Tarring up your words don' change the truth. I walk away now and I'm leaving behind all the wealth I've ever dreamed about.''

Sam trod up the path from the pool. "You know the way here now," he said wearily.

"Cor, mate. That don't do me no effing good." Sam turned to find Gray Otter on his heels. He nodded to her. To his surprise, she smiled back.

Harrier demanded his attention with a curse. "You owe me, Twist. I couldVe been killed here. You owe me."

"The pay you agreed to is in escrow in Perth." "Perth!'' Harrier slammed his hat to the floor of the cavern. "Cor! I won't be able to come back once you close that fragging magical gate."

"That's true, but you will be able to leave here whenever you want. I sensed that in the spell that makes the barrier. So dig to your heart's content. We'll leave you one of the Mules and enough supplies for a few days. That should give you enough time to gather more than enough opal to make you rich. Of course, the bunyip might come back."

Harrier eyed the pool. It looked still as still as it had before the bunyip had erupted from it. With a shiver, the small man scurried across the bridge to join them.

Urdli knew something was wrong even before he emerged from the rock through which he traveled. He could feel that the mana form surrounding the hold had been disturbed. As was proper the inner ward opened for him, but as he passed through he sensed that it had been altered. There was trouble. He didn't know the seriousness of the situation until he had pulled himself through into the mundane world, and the wan opaline glow cast his spindly shadow across the capstone. It was empty.

"Purukupali! O Great Creator, how could you have made such a fool?"

Urdli felt his skin burning with anger. A few other guardian stones had also been pried from their wards, but most remained in place. This had been a haphazard looting, an ignorant destruction of the ancient balances. Whoever had done this had not even known what he was doing.

The sundered capstone was a bad sign, but he still had a small hope that the opening of the door had gone unnoticed by the ancient spirit. Perhaps it had not yet reclaimed the portion of its power that lay entombed here, giving him a chance to block the opening until he could gather others to seal it again. If he probed the well and the spirit was awake and aware, it would try to take him. He feared that he was not strong enough to deal with it by himself, but no one else was here. If he took the time to summon others, the chance would likely be lost.

He hesitated. He had no desire to become a pawn of the enemy. Old as he was, he was not yet ready to surrender his life, or his freedom.

Necessity was a strong argument, as was duty. But shame was a goad. He was the warder. If he made no attempt to set things right, his disgrace would know no bounds.

Urdli called upon the great spirit of the Rock and wrapped himself in its protection. Here in this place of great power, the spirit was powerful. He felt as durable and strong as Rock itself. Strong enough? There was only one way to find out.

He planted his feet, dug his toes into the stone to hold his body steady, and sent his spirit down into the well of the capstone. The way was filled with fairy cobwebs that fluttered as he passed. The place was empty. What had been constrained here was gone.

Relief at not having to face that which terrified him warred with frustration at finding it gone. The proscribed power had escaped, and the old enemy would be stronger. But there might yet be time to prepare. With luck, it would focus its attention on other feuds before returning its envious and malicious eyes toward his own kind.

Though his gathered strength might have been insufficient to deal with the old one, Urdli had no fear of the lesser inmates of the holding. He turned to the other wells of internment and found two of them empty, their occupants dispersed. Fortunately, the spirits still only stirred sleepily within the other wells. The long slumber imposed a lethargy on them that was to Urdli's advantage. Calling upon the power he held, he drove them back down into their dreaming. To seal the wells, he scooped opal from the wall seam and molded it in his hands to create new guardian stones. He set each in place with spells that made these stones replacements for the stolen ones. At least some of the problems would remain entombed here.

The effort exhausted him. He released his hold on the Rock spirit and lay back to rest, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. When he awoke, he was hungry. There was no food to be had here, but he could drink from the pool. Crouching over it, he gazed down into the milky water. His reflection showed him a haggard face, dark eyes sunken into black pits of exhaustion that were obvious even against his dusky skin. He dispersed the disturbing image by dipping his hands into the water, but his worries remained. There was still much to do.

After his drink, he called the bunyip. When it did not respond, he was not surprised. The thieves could not have successfully departed with the stones without first overcoming the bunyip.

He crossed the bridge and walked up the slope to the tunnel. Crouching to clear the low ceiling, he traveled the short distance to the gate of the inner ward. He adjusted his senses and read its structure, seeking the anomaly he had felt when crossing the ward on his way to the chamber. Finding the flaw was not difficult. One of the thieves, a magician, had opened the gate and set it to admit four persons, though only three had left. Urdli tugged on the structure, restoring it to its original form. Later, when he felt stronger, he would reinforce the ward.

He turned back to the chamber and scanned it with the deep sight. There was no sign of life, either amid the field of glowing prisons or down in the depths of the pool. The bunyip was dead, but so was one of the intruders. The beast had done its work, at least in part. A new one would be necessary.

Passing through the ward, Urdli walked to the cavern's mouth. There, in the crisp, clean air, he caught the faint scent of the blood-soaked rocks. His deep sight saw the stain, and he felt the wound in the rock where the piton had been driven. Another of the intruders had died here.

He stepped off the ledge and, supported by his will, descended to the plain below. The grave of the climber was painfully obvious. The thieves had made no attempt to hide it. He left it alone; likely it would not offer any useful information.

The marks of vehicles scarred the ground nearby. Wide, deeply treaded tires ran to a protected cranny, then away again. Within the nook was a profusion of footprints. They meant little to him. He was no expert, but it looked as though there were only five sets, the climber and the four who had penetrated the holding. He gazed out along the path the tracks took. The trail would not remain long in the Outback. Already he could see a storm racing to cut across the thieves' spoor.

He was angry with them. And with himself. The guardian stone, though bereft of its primary function, was still an item of power. Its recovery was imperative, as was the punishment of the thieves. He could not track them mundanely, but there were other ways. He began to gather materials.