Lyndon Hardy - Riddle of the Seven Realms

"The rotators in possession of the origin? That was some time ago and-" Jankol stopped and rubbed his chin. "Such a trip would be costly indeed," he said after a moment, "much more than the device you bring, despite its claim. There is no way we could exchange six and transport you there as well."

"The device is all that I have," Astron said. "Take us to the origin and for that I will explain its many virtues so that you can use it as well. Then I am sure you will agree to exchanging a dozen rather than six."

Jankol puckered his lips. "An explanation after the journey but before the exchange," he repeated. His eyes darted quickly to the other reflectives, as if in warning, and no one spoke. "Once we are in possession of the power, then, in good faith, we will decide what the additional payment will be. Yes, yes, I think the reflectives can agree to that. Of our good faith you can be assured."

Astron felt some of the tension dissolve, but not all. He wished he could be more sure, but it seemed to follow the pattern that Kestrel had explained. Now if he could only get Phoebe's flame started before the reflectives discovered that their duplicity was the lesser of the two.

ASTRON had waited anxiously while the reflectives signalled from one node to the next that they were coming. Jankol could not quite believe that he could travel with Astron and Phoebe in their engine without worrying about the forces of symmetry. The time to the next move had been half spent before they finally were on their way, pushing the engine in the sand with Jankol and two of his lieutenants harnessed in the very rear.

Astron had hoped that, with the additional muscle, their rate of speed would improve, but the warriors were unused to much walking and the pace was hardly more than he and Phoebe had managed alone.

"Kestrel, I still do not understand the point of the rush," Astron heard Phoebe gasp beside him as they approached the node one away from the origin. "As I have said, without Nimbia or the services of some other wizard, it is futile to press as hard as we have done. And even if we get to where you seek, Jankol and the others will-will expect what you have promised."

"We will face the events one at a time." Astron glanced to the side between breaths. "Do not waste your energy with idle words. Concentrate only on our objective."

Astron heard the confidence in his voice as if someone else were speaking. His demon's mind knew the truth of what Phoebe said, but somehow his body would not admit it. Instead it seemed totally caught up in pushing onward toward his goal. His mouth was dry. His muscles ached from the strain. Irritating pains occasionally shot from his shoulder where the leather had begun to dig into the soft, unscaled skin. Even the weight of the rucksack containing the harebell pollen had become a heavy burden. Yet there was no other choice but to continue. To stop would be to surrender to the despair of the stembrain or whatever humans had in its place. To be marooned forever was a very long time for a demon.

"The chronoid with the long hair is correct." Jankol suddenly stopped pushing against his harness. "The next move is about to take place. We can rest here comfortably until it is over and then resume travel when we are refreshed."

"What about the rotators?" Astron said. "Had we not better circle around this oasis and continue?"

"But we are indeed fortunate," Jankol said. "Our own brethren now occupy this one and-perhaps several more as well. There is no reason why we will not be welcome."

Astron started to reply when he heard a deep vibrant gong from the direction of the oasis. He felt a tingling in his feet. The ground started to vibrate at a frequency just below his hearing. His nose wrinkled. A flick of motion from the oasis caught his eye. The trees had begun to oscillate. In slow unison, they swayed from side to side. Then the water from the pond sloshed outward to bathe the roots on one side. A great wave of sand, like a ripple in a blanket, seemed to race toward him with breath-catching speed.

The tremor passed under Astron with a mild shifting of his support. He felt his thoughts turn sluggish and difficult to understand. He heard the reflectives call out to the oasis, but their voices had become twisted, sputtering sounds that he barely recongized.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the tremor in the ground stopped. The distant rumbling died away. Astron's head cleared and he was able to think.

"We should not wait until the origin," Jankol said. "My comrades at the oasis say that they prepare for a massive attack. If we are to use your device, it will be here and now. Evidently the rotators press too forcefully; we must employ everything that we can."

Astron's nose wrinkled. He tried to capture the subtle flavor of his disorientation, but with each passing heart beat it faded farther and farther away. He looked back at the oasis and the large clock that was ticking at the water's edge. He saw the warriors there testing the sharpness of their swords, some of them still stretching and arching their backs. Despite the striking clock and trembling ground, they had just barely aroused from their sleep.

Rotarians and reflectives-the two sides were not so very different, he thought. Without prior knowledge, he would be hard put to tell them apart. Images of the ritualistic regimen swept into his mind-plan, eat, sleep, and move; scanning parchment maps of the polytopes, mixing water and pulpy juice, carefully planning non-symmetric sleeping positions around the oasis-

Astron stopped short and looked at the clock striker as it cocked for another stroke. The vision of the swirling juice and water stuck in his thoughts. "Perhaps it is not so wise," he said quickly to Jankol. "All of the interchange with the realm of the chronoids-what happens when you have shifted so much that there is little to tell their universe from yours?"

"We have a bargain." Jankol ignored the question. "Your device is to aid along with all the rest."

Astron started to say more when the gong sounded a second time. Again he saw the treetops start to sway back and forth. The water in the pond spewed from its banks in a foamy spray. A wave of sand much higher than before pulsed away from its creation.

"Brace yourself!" Astron yelled as he was suddenly thrown from his feet. With a wrenching groan, the long beams of the engine snapped their leather bindings and he tumbled to the ground. Gears ripped from their lashings; tins of flour dropped to the sands, exploding their contents in sprays of deep orange. As if he had been struck by lightning from the realm of men, Astron heard a painful clap of thunder that filled the air and reverberated into a distant rumble that left him dazed. The sky seemed to shimmer for a moment with thin lines of iridescence arching from horizon to horizon.

Astron breathed the sweet taste of air deeply and shook his head from side to side. As the sky began to return to its former steady brightness, he saw Jankol and his lieutenants, completely unfettered, trying to lash the engine back to the way it had been.

"No, no more use of devices of the chronoids." Astron's tongue felt heavy in his mouth. "Stop them all. Wait until we understand better what the consequences truly are."

Jankol stopped his mending. He puckered his lips and looked at Astron through squinted eyes. "What you say is most strange. On one hand, you speak of the virtues of a device from another realm; on the other you entreat instead that such engines not be used. It is a behavior somewhat inconsistent for one truly from beyond the flame."

Astron felt a sudden stab of panic. "No, there is no inconsistency," he answered quickly. "You see it is merely a matter of, a matter of-" He tried to look Jankol squarely in the eye but when the words would not come, he turned his face aside. Scowling, he wished for Kestrel's quickness of thought.