have been there before?”
“More times than I can safely count,” Curatio replied, hand upon his chin as though he were deep in thought. “And the guardians were creatures of her pure nature?”
“They were,” Arydni said. “When last I was there, they had begun to fade somewhat, as though their essence had been darkened by something, I know not what. Perhaps the absence of their God-mother drains their vitality and spirit. In any case, they were much less pleasant than in previous encounters.”
“Some of them were fairly humorless to begin with,” Curatio said, removing his fingers from his chin, “so I imagine that this is not a change for the better.” He looked sidelong at Cyrus. “Best have the army ready for a fight going in. Vidara feeds those creatures their life energy and controls the direction of the realm. Without her presence, it may become … unruly.”
“An unruly goddess’s realm,” Vaste said with all irony, “I can hardly contain my excitement. Why, last time I was in a ruly one, I was almost smashed to chunks. I can’t wait to see what they come up with here.”
“Whatever it is, I hope it hits your mouth first,” Vara said, turning away from him. Her fair hair moved like a whip being cracked as she spun away.
“You say that now, but when you need a heal, it’ll be a different song entirely,” Vaste said. “You know, if you sang.”
Cyrus looked back at the army already forming into a spiral around the portal, ready to march in a column ten wide. The spell casters were sprinkled in up front, Cyrus saw, dotting the first few rows here and there. Good. That’ll help if we get ambushed just inside the gate.
“Officers,” Cyrus said. Nyad formed the middle of a short line with Vaste and Curatio sandwiched between Vara and Cyrus, their swords drawn. He looked back to see Arydni next to Odellan. “You follow right behind, okay?”
“How do we get to the Realm of Life from here?” Nyad asked. “Doesn’t this portal lead to other upper realms, as well?”
“Watch,” Curatio said. “Eleni, iliara, eyalastar.” The portal spun before them, the empty space around the longways stone ovoid crackling with energy and light of a sort Cyrus had never seen from one of them before. It glowed green, a verdant color like the grasses of Perdamun lit by a summer sun. The healer looked at Cyrus. “On your command.”
Cyrus looked down the line at Vara and saw her give him a sidelong glance in return, subtle and cool, like everything else she did in his presence now. “All right,” Cyrus said, “let’s get this inquisition under way.” He marched forward, the clank of his plate metal boots hard against the stone floor. The glowing green portal drew closer and closer, and Cyrus could see the runes etched on the outer stone surrounding it. He took one last breath of the stale catacomb air before he stepped into the glowing green energy and felt the world distort around him.
His sense of direction shifted as if he were underwater, as though his legs were pulled from beneath him and set right again. He looked next to him and saw Nyad distorted, her cheeks growing large as a chipmunk’s, then her head shrinking to the size of a pin, as though he were looking at her through thick and uneven glass.
It was over in a moment, the distortion gone from his vision, and he stood on a moonlit field, the smell of something decaying filling his nostrils. He paused just for a moment to get his bearings. There was a dark shadow in the distance ahead, something that looked like a wild, overgrown hedge, with spiny sticks poking out over the top of it. The grass upon which he stood looked nearly dead, even under the moonlight. Cyrus looked back to issue a command to the army, but behind him stood an empty portal, the light gone out of the center, giving him a clear look through to the other side as though nothing had ever been in the middle of the frame.
“Uhh …” Cyrus said, “our portal’s
“More times than I can safely count,” Curatio replied, hand upon his chin as though he were deep in thought. “And the guardians were creatures of her pure nature?”
“They were,” Arydni said. “When last I was there, they had begun to fade somewhat, as though their essence had been darkened by something, I know not what. Perhaps the absence of their God-mother drains their vitality and spirit. In any case, they were much less pleasant than in previous encounters.”
“Some of them were fairly humorless to begin with,” Curatio said, removing his fingers from his chin, “so I imagine that this is not a change for the better.” He looked sidelong at Cyrus. “Best have the army ready for a fight going in. Vidara feeds those creatures their life energy and controls the direction of the realm. Without her presence, it may become … unruly.”
“An unruly goddess’s realm,” Vaste said with all irony, “I can hardly contain my excitement. Why, last time I was in a ruly one, I was almost smashed to chunks. I can’t wait to see what they come up with here.”
“Whatever it is, I hope it hits your mouth first,” Vara said, turning away from him. Her fair hair moved like a whip being cracked as she spun away.
“You say that now, but when you need a heal, it’ll be a different song entirely,” Vaste said. “You know, if you sang.”
Cyrus looked back at the army already forming into a spiral around the portal, ready to march in a column ten wide. The spell casters were sprinkled in up front, Cyrus saw, dotting the first few rows here and there. Good. That’ll help if we get ambushed just inside the gate.
“Officers,” Cyrus said. Nyad formed the middle of a short line with Vaste and Curatio sandwiched between Vara and Cyrus, their swords drawn. He looked back to see Arydni next to Odellan. “You follow right behind, okay?”
“How do we get to the Realm of Life from here?” Nyad asked. “Doesn’t this portal lead to other upper realms, as well?”
“Watch,” Curatio said. “Eleni, iliara, eyalastar.” The portal spun before them, the empty space around the longways stone ovoid crackling with energy and light of a sort Cyrus had never seen from one of them before. It glowed green, a verdant color like the grasses of Perdamun lit by a summer sun. The healer looked at Cyrus. “On your command.”
Cyrus looked down the line at Vara and saw her give him a sidelong glance in return, subtle and cool, like everything else she did in his presence now. “All right,” Cyrus said, “let’s get this inquisition under way.” He marched forward, the clank of his plate metal boots hard against the stone floor. The glowing green portal drew closer and closer, and Cyrus could see the runes etched on the outer stone surrounding it. He took one last breath of the stale catacomb air before he stepped into the glowing green energy and felt the world distort around him.
His sense of direction shifted as if he were underwater, as though his legs were pulled from beneath him and set right again. He looked next to him and saw Nyad distorted, her cheeks growing large as a chipmunk’s, then her head shrinking to the size of a pin, as though he were looking at her through thick and uneven glass.
It was over in a moment, the distortion gone from his vision, and he stood on a moonlit field, the smell of something decaying filling his nostrils. He paused just for a moment to get his bearings. There was a dark shadow in the distance ahead, something that looked like a wild, overgrown hedge, with spiny sticks poking out over the top of it. The grass upon which he stood looked nearly dead, even under the moonlight. Cyrus looked back to issue a command to the army, but behind him stood an empty portal, the light gone out of the center, giving him a clear look through to the other side as though nothing had ever been in the middle of the frame.
“Uhh …” Cyrus said, “our portal’s
Similar Books
