Rob Scott - The Larion Senators

‘So what I’m saying is that sixty-six days in Eldarn equals fifty-five days in Colorado. So I should have arrived in Charleston exactly seven weeks and six days later. Right?’

Garec shrugged. ‘Your lips are moving, Steven, but I just hear noise.’

Gilmour said, ‘Steven, you should have arrived in Charleston on a Thursday in December.’

‘Top marks, Gilmour,’ Steven said, ‘Thursday, December eleventh, to be precise.’

‘But you didn’t,’ Brand guessed.

‘No, I didn’t,’ Steven said. ‘I arrived on Tuesday, the ninth, and returned here to the fjord north of Orindale on Friday, the twelfth.’ He grimaced as he remembered the dreadful tragedy at Charleston Airport and his sleepless three-day race to the Idaho Springs Landfill and Lessek’s key.

‘All right,’ Gilmour said, ‘so, you’re off by forty-eight hours, give or take a few. Over sixty-six days, that’s less than an hour a day. Who cares?’

‘We all will if we choose the wrong date to bring this table over to Jennifer Sorenson, and she hasn’t begun opening and closing the far portal yet.’

‘That might drop us anywhere, right?’ Garec asked.

‘The bottom of the ocean, the top of a mountain glacier, anywhere.’ Steven grimaced. ‘Not helpful.’

‘All of a sudden, you have my undivided attention.’

Gilmour looked confused. ‘What does your first trip have to do with when Jennifer Sorenson will open her portal tapestry?’

‘When I left Denver on Friday, the twelfth, Jennifer agreed to open the portal at seven a.m. and p.m. every day and keep it open for fifteen minutes, but she wasn’t going to begin for two months.’

‘Two months? Why?’

‘Because I figured we would need that much time to find Hannah in Praga.’

‘I don’t understand any of what you’re saying, Steven,’ Brand interrupted. ‘How does this tell us when we can get rid of this table?’

‘Sorry, Brand,’ Steven said, ‘it’s a little complicated. Since I came back to Eldarn, I think about seventy days have elapsed – I’m a bit fuzzy on our time at Sandcliff Palace.’

‘It wasn’t the most gripping holiday I’ve ever taken either,’ Garec said.

‘Anyway,’ Steven went on, ‘seventy days here is the equivalent to fifty-eight days in Colorado.’ He’d missed his maths quandaries.

‘Give or take,’ Gilmour clarified.

‘So February twelfth is sixty-two Colorado days since I last saw Jennifer Sorenson.’

Garec sat up, finally grasping Steven’s problem. ‘That means we have to wait four days before Jennifer opens the portal?’

‘We should wait six or even seven days,’ Gilmour said. ‘Remember, you were off by a couple of days last time.’

‘True, but then again, maybe I miscounted the days we were travelling. Some of our time in the Blackstones is more than a little hazy in my memory.’

‘All the more reason to be cautious.’ Gilmour was convinced he was right. ‘The last thing I want to do is to drag this thing through the jungles of Siam just because you made a maths error.’

‘Uh, Gilmour?’ Steven said.

‘What?’

‘Siam isn’t really there any more.’

‘What in the rutting world have you done with it?’ Gilmour feigned shock and horror.

‘We call it Thailand now.’

‘What kind of rutting name is that?’ he huffed. ‘I enjoyed Siam, wonderful cuisine.’

‘Sorry.’

Brand said, ‘So we find a barn, hide out for six days and then take this thing across the Fold?’

‘Yup.’

‘Very well,’ Brand said, ‘I think it’s time to alert Gita. With luck, they can be marching on Capehill in six days – and even if Mark has sent riders north, they won’t reach Traver’s Notch until well after the army has begun moving.’ He looked down at his boots.

Gilmour read his mind. ‘Feel free to go, Brand. Seeing us to Wellham Ridge and then through Meyers’ Vale was courageous; both you and Kellin have done more than we should have asked.’

‘I don’t even know how many of my company made it back to Traver’s Notch,’ Brand said quietly.

Steven gestured towards Kellin. ‘You two ought to be able to get back without any trouble. Travelling as a couple, you can pass yourselves off as almost anyone. The work we have yet to do here is all voodoo anyway; Gilmour and I can handle it.’

Brand pressed his lips into another rare smile. ‘Thank you. But I feel as though Gita would want us to remain with you two, at least until the table is safe. With Mark Jenkins almost certainly coming south to find you, I worry-’

‘You can bring nothing to bear against Mark,’ Steven interrupted. ‘Our best option is to avoid him until Gilmour and I can figure out how to divorce him from the spirit holding him hostage.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ Steven said, ‘it’s not your fault. Gilmour’s right: you and Kellin have done far more than Gita expected of you, of that, I’m certain. You belong with your comrades. Go to them.’

Garec had been staring out between the trees, watching the river wind its way towards Orindale. He looked over at Kellin; she avoided his gaze.

Gilmour broke the tension. ‘There is one more thing you can do for us, Brand.’

‘What’s that?’ Kellin was happy to have something to say.

‘Find us a farm. We can’t be carting this table back and forth across the valley. Ride ahead; watch for Malakasian scouts; I’m sure they’re out there.’

‘Unless it’s Mark travelling alone,’ Garec said.

‘Great gods, if you encounter him, don’t engage him, no matter what he might say or do, no matter how innocent he seems,’ Gilmour said in a rush. ‘Turn and flee; get back to us as quickly as you can – in fact, stay off this path. We’ll move into the forest as well. It’ll be more difficult, but riding along this river is inviting trouble.’

‘Very well,’ Brand said, looking at Kellin. The Falkan woman didn’t appear to share Brand’s enthusiasm for the assignment, but she nodded regardless. From what Steven had told her, coming close enough to hear what Mark might have to say, innocent or not, would mean death for them both.

‘Find us a farm,’ Gilmour said, ‘then ride for Capehill. You’ll be there in ten, maybe twelve, days with hard riding and a fair wind.’

‘This time of year you never can predict the storms across the plains; they can be merciless.’ Garec caught Kellin’s eye and blushed. He silently chided himself for a fool; this was no time for childhood crushes.

‘Can you give us a few days? Perhaps three or four?’ Brand asked. ‘Let us find a farm tomorrow, a suitable place for you to secrete the table until the path across the Fold is clear. Then, give us a couple days to ride; I’d like to be north of Wellham Ridge before you knock Stalwick senseless. Maybe if Gita is delayed, even a few days, and we ride hard, we can reach our lines before they engage at Capehill.’

‘I will wait until the day Steven, Garec and I plan to open the portal and escort the spell table into Colorado,’ Gilmour said. ‘That gives you six days. You understand that I don’t want to wait longer than that for fear that we may find ourselves across the Fold for more than just an aven or two.’

‘I hadn’t thought of that.’ Garec looked nervously back and forth between Steven and Gilmour. It was apparent that he had not considered making the trip.

‘Ah, Garec, you’ll love it,’ Steven said. ‘I’ll take you for Thai food.’

*

‘Thadrake?’ Jacrys wheezed. He blinked to clear his blurry vision, but it didn’t help. He rubbed his eyes, then closed them and pressed down hard; he saw bursts of yellow, red and gold. Afterward, he could see well enough to discern that night had fallen and someone was moving about in the corner of the room, maybe folding blankets. The master spy was afraid that in addition to stabbing him through the lung, barely missing his heart, Sallax, that horsecock from Estrad, had hit him hard enough to leave his vision permanently out of focus. Remembering the fight in Carpello’s warehouse, the way Brexan had distracted him while Sallax tried to crush his skull with a table leg, Jacrys seethed. ‘I’m glad you’re dead, you bastard rutter,’ he muttered.