NINETEEN - Encounter

Pug motioned the others to stand back.

He piled the physical mana up, then took his and Owyn’s two crystal staves. ‘As I see it, this gate ceased working when the connection on the other side was broken, for that must have been where the power originated.’

‘But where is the other side?’ asked Owyn.

‘Somewhere in the palace at Krondor, or nearby. They could have rendered Gamina senseless and taken her anywhere, and then to this world, but the trick Makala pulled with creating that temporary portal in my study required the original gate to be very close.’

Owyn asked, ‘Why?’

‘When we have time, I’ll explain the theory behind it, but leave it for the moment that the device Makala gave me didn’t have the power to transport me between worlds. It simply keyed me into a rift that existed nearby.’

Owyn seemed to understand. ‘Did you ever discover why Dhatsavan and the other gods of this world froze the mana like this?’

Pug shook his head as he stood up and backed away from the machine. ‘I think it was a desperate ploy; if they did this at the height of the battle perhaps the Valheru judged the world destroyed and moved on; they might have sensed all the magic going away and feared they would be trapped here. We may never know exactly why. And I’m in no mood to return to the pillars to discover why.’

‘How do we calibrate this thing without a power source?’ asked Owyn.

Pug held up the Cup of Rlynn Skrr. ‘This is what we will channel the power with. Dhatsavan told you it was a key, and with it you could reach other worlds.’

‘Of course,’ said Owyn.

Pug pointed to his head. ‘Here I have the knowledge. And for that I’ll need your help.’

Owyn blinked. ‘How?’

Pug said, ‘I need to warn all of you: this is something that may not work, or might even lead to our destruction.’ He addressed the last to Gorath and his daughter. ‘I wish I could spare you the risk, but my experience with rifts tells me we shall have but a few seconds to attempt this gate.’

Gamina said, ‘Just tell us what to do, Father.’

‘After I instruct Owyn, I will count aloud, and when you hear me say “three” we will attempt to activate this rift gate. If this works, a shimmering silver light should appear between the two poles and turn an opaque grey. The instant you see it turn grey, jump between the poles. It might help if you and Gorath held hands. Owyn and I will follow a moment later.’

He showed them where to stand. Then he said to Owyn, ‘This is perhaps the most difficult thing you have ever been asked to do. You have both the energy and knowledge, though the second is only recently within you.’

Owyn said, ‘I don’t understand.’

Pug nodded. ‘My powers are still weakened, because of my misuse of the cup. While my memory has returned, it may be some time, days perhaps, before I can recapture even part of my powers. But you have power, what you brought with you, as well as knowledge gained from me when we shared the cup.’

‘But I don’t know anything about rifts,’ Owyn objected.

‘Close your eyes and stop trying to think about what to do. Just relax and let things come to you.’

Owyn looked dubious but he closed his eyes. Pug waited a few minutes and said, ‘You’re still trying. Think of something else?’

‘What?’

‘Think of something boring, perhaps a tome you read a long time ago that didn’t interest you, or one of Elgohar’s lectures at Stardock.’

Owyn laughed, and suddenly something entered his mind. ‘I . . . wait, something . . .’ He opened his eyes. ‘I laughed and there, for a moment, I knew something about rifts.’

‘Close your eyes and think of something else,’ said Pug.

Owyn took a deep breath and closed his eyes again. He let his mind drift and memories came flooding back. He remembered his older brothers mocking him as he studied the few books his father possessed, and he remembered a girl in the town he liked but never spoke to, though she probably would have been flattered by the attention of the Baron’s son. Then he remembered meeting Patrus and that old scoundrel’s less than deferential attitude to his father, and his deep wisdom buried under that rough, country-bred exterior. He could see the old man in his mind’s eye and could even hear him talking about the spells he could teach the boy.

‘I tell you, boy,’ said the memory of Patrus, ‘the trick to making fire erupt from your fingers is nothing. You just have to want the air around the finger to get hot, and if you get it hot enough, if you want it enough, then the fire appears.’ Owyn remembered trying that skill for hours until suddenly it happened.

Then in Owyn’s memory, Patrus was saying, ‘The structure of a rift is best understood if you ignore common references to three-dimensional location. The idea of being “here” and then being “there” is an impediment rather than a help. If you think of a rift as a “gate” between two places that can be side by side at any moment, if you will. . .’ Patrus’s voice droned on in Owyn’s mind, but the lesson was so obvious as Owyn listened.

Suddenly Owyn’s eyes opened. ‘I know what to do!’

‘Good,’ said Pug. ‘I once had Macros guide me while I utilized my power to enter and destroy a rift, so now I’ll guide you. Gamina?’

‘Yes, Father?’

‘If you could link Owyn’s mind with mine, and then get ready to jump, please.’

She took Gorath’s hand and said, ‘When you’re ready.’

Pug nodded and Owyn suddenly felt their minds linked by Gamina’s. Then Pug held out the Cup of Rlynn Skrr in one hand, and the crystal staff in the other. He put the staff firmly on the ground and said, ‘Ready?’

Owyn put his staff into the pile of mana and said, ‘Ready!’

‘One, two, three!’

Owyn took the energies given him by the staff in his hand and let them flow down the staff to the pile of mana that lay at the base of the rift machine. He willed it all to move back up the staff, through him, to Pug to the cup he held. A blinding flash of energy erupted from the cup and filled the space between the poles.

It was like reaching out and moving aside a curtain, thought Owyn. He even knew where he wanted the rift to form. He opened his eyes and saw a shimmering silver wall turn grey before him, then he saw Gamina and Gorath jump and vanish through it. ‘Now!’ shouted Pug and Owyn, still gripping Pug’s hand, jumped after his companions.

He felt himself pass through a grey void, a moment of sensationlessness, and then they were stumbling on a stone floor, trying to keep from falling over Gorath and Gamina.

The room was dark, with a faint light entering the window.

‘Where are we?’ asked Gorath.

Pug laughed. ‘In my study, in Krondor.’

Gamina jumped to her feet, clapping her hands in delight. Even before she could speak, the door flew open and Katala hurried in, wearing her nightdress. She clasped her daughter to her heart then put her arm around her husband. ‘I knew you’d find her,’ said Katala.

Pug luxuriated for a moment in the presence of his wife and child, then said, ‘Makala has much to answer for.’

Katala said, ‘The Tsurani? He’s behind your disappearance?’

‘It’s a long story, my love. Gamina will tell it to you when you’re both safely at Stardock.’

Katala looked at her husband and said, ‘Where will you be, husband?’

Pug looked at Gorath and Owyn. ‘We must go to Sethanon.’

James looked at Patrus and the old magician shouted, ‘Worry about yourself, boy. I can take care of myself!’

James was inclined to agree. Arutha’s healing priest had concocted a restorative. No matter how tired they were when they lay down to sleep, by sipping a tea made from the magic herbs, they were fully restored the next morning.

They had ridden like madmen, running horses into the ground, trading mounts three or four times a day, commandeering mounts along the way. They had warned Baron Highcastle and allowed themselves one night of luxury, sleeping in a bed, and they left the next day with a new retinue and remounts, while the exhausted soldiers who hadn’t had the luxury of the magic restorative would follow after with Highcastle’s garrison as it force marched to the Dimwood.

They saw tents and banners in the distance, as they crested a rise in the road, and headed toward the northern boundary of the Dimwood. They slowed as Kingdom sentries flagged them down. They reined in before a sergeant of the Royal Krondorian garrison, who recognized both squires. ‘Where’s the Knight-Marshal?’ asked James.

‘In the command tent with the Duke, sir.’

‘Which duke?’

‘The Duke of Crydee, squire,’ said the sergeant.

James asked, ‘Martin’s here? Good.’ He motioned to the others to follow and headed toward the large pavilion tent which dominated the encampment.

Reaching it, James reined in and dismounted, handing the reins of his horse to a lackey. The others were a step behind him, though Patrus looked as if the long ride was finally wearing him down.

At the entrance to the pavilion, James said, ‘Tell the Knight-Marshal Squires James and Locklear are here.’

The guard disappeared inside, and a moment later motioned for them to enter. James and his companions went into the command pavilion and found Knight-Marshal Gardan studying the map on the table before him. Looking up, his dark, wrinkled face split into a grin, one that seemed to light up the tent. Yet his eyes looked troubled. ‘I hope your arrival means Arutha is coming right behind.’

James said, ‘He’s on his way, as is Highcastle, and should be less than a week behind.’

‘A week!’ said Gardan.

‘We ruined some horses getting here,’ said Locklear.

‘You’re to move at once to the Sethanon garrison,’ said James. He looked around. ‘I was told Martin was here.’

‘He was,’ said Gardan. ‘But he and his trackers are already heading into the woods.’

‘What brought him here?’ asked Locklear.

‘Tomas sent word to Crydee and suggested it might be a good idea for some special talents to appear here in the woods.’ He pointed south. ‘Martin, his trackers, and a company of elves are out there skulking through the woods, looking for Dark Brothers.’

‘So Delekhan’s on his way?’ asked James.

‘He’s here,’ said Gardan. His finger pointed out a point on the map, a ‘V formed by two rivers that ran through the Dimwood. ‘He showed up behind us two days ago. I don’t know how he did it, but instead of being in front of us, he was behind us.’

‘We think he’s using a rift machine,’ said James.

‘Damn,’ said Gardan. ‘If the Riftwar taught us anything it was that once one of those damn gates is open, they can walk soldiers through as fast as they can get them lined up and on the march.’

‘Can’t be a big one, though,’ said Patrus.

‘Who’s this?’ asked Gardan.

‘Patrus is my name,’ answered the old magician. ‘If it was big, he’d be on the march.’ Patrus pointed to a place to the southwest of where Gardan had pointed. ‘Is there a ford or bridge around there?’

‘We’re trying to find out,’ answered the Knight-Marshal.

‘Come on, boys,’ said Patrus.

‘Wait!’ said James. ‘Where are we going?’

‘If that pointy-eared devil is already here, then he’s getting ready to move out. If he’s not here yet, and we can close that damn machine down before he comes through, his boys’ll start running north like their tails was on fire, if they had tails.’ He grinned. ‘Those dark elves just don’t like being far from home.’

Gardan looked at James. ‘Who is he?’

‘It’s a long story,’ said James. ‘I’ll tell you after all this is over. But he’s the only magician we’ve got, and unless Pug shows up we’ve got’ to make do.’

Patrus made a face. ‘Make do? I ought to go home and let you sort this out.’

‘Sorry,’ said James. ‘Tired, that’s all.’

‘That’s all right, Jimmy. You get me to that damned machine and I’ll shut it down.’

Locklear looked sceptical. ‘I was under the impression that it was a special sort of magic, rifts, I mean.’

Patrus said, ‘Special to make, no doubt. What little I’ve heard about rifts isn’t good; most of the time they show up because a magician made a mistake.’ He winked. ‘But messing magic up, that’s easy.’

James said, ‘I hope so, because if we can cut off most of Delekhan’s army before they get here, we just might keep the lid on this boiling kettle until Arutha and the rest of the army get here.’

Gardan made a sweeping motion with his hands. ‘We have a very fluid front. They’re dug in here, here and here,’ he said, pointing at three different places along a river. ‘Lord Martin went this way.’ He indicated a pass between the two closest points. ‘He thought he might be able to slip past the dark elves.’

James shook his head. ‘If there’s a human who might slip through the woods past dark elves, it would be Martin Longbow, but even that’s a little hard for me to imagine.’

Gardan smiled. ‘We’re providing him with some distractions.’

James returned the grin. ‘Well, then, if it’s loud and lively, we might be able to follow after him.’

Locklear said, ‘Are we ever going to get any rest?’

Patrus looked at the younger man and with an expression of contempt. ‘Get killed, boy, and you’ll get all the rest you’ll ever need. Now, come on and let’s get after it.’

Locklear nodded in resignation. James said, ‘We have a better chance if we travel light. Do you have any scouts still in camp?’

Gardan shook his head. ‘No, they’re working with Martin and the elves along that river. If you’re lucky, you’ll bump into them before you meet any of Delekhan’s forces.’

James said, ‘Well, we’ve got a good half-day’s light left, so we should probably head out.’

‘How are you fixed for stores?’ asked the Knight-Marshal.

‘We have enough food for a week,’ said Locklear. ‘We loaded up before we left the last change of horses.’

Gardan said, ‘Then let me give you the current password, “Krondor’s Eagle”, as we have some human renegades from Queg mixed in around here, too.’

Locklear said, ‘After I got Gorath to Krondor, I was hoping I’d never see another bloody Quegan mercenary again.’

Gardan said, ‘You have my permission to kill as many as you like when you meet them, squire: now get out of here.’

James laughed and led Patrus and Locklear out of the tent. He pointed to their horses and asked a guard, ‘Any fresh remounts nearby?’

The guard said, ‘Over there, squire. Captain Philip’s taking care of cavalry for the Marshal. He can set you up.’

They took their horses and led them toward the cavalry command, and Patrus said, ‘Oh, joy! Another horse to ride!’

Locklear said, ‘Would you rather walk?’

‘Right now, boy, you bet I would,’ was his answer, followed by his signature nasty laugh.

James shook his head. He was trying to like the crusty old magician, but he was finding that as time wore on, it was getting harder to find reasons not to strangle him.

James motioned the others forward, and they rode within sight of a recent skirmish. Three renegade humans and one moredhel lay dead in a clearing, and from the number of arrows in the corpses, it was apparent they had been taken by surprise. Only elves would be able to ambush a moredhel scout, James was certain, so hopefully that meant Duke Martin and his companions were in the area.

‘Do you think the elves will remember us from our last visit to Elvandar, or mistake us for Quegan renegades and start shooting?’ Locklear asked.

‘Why don’t you ask them?’ replied a voice from behind a tree to his right, before James could speak.

Locklear and James reined in as a tall man dressed in brown-and-green leather stepped out from behind a tree.

‘Martin!’ said James. ‘I’m pleased to see you, Your Grace.’

Martin, Duke of Crydee, once known as Longbow, stood holding the weapon that had given him his name. ‘Well met, James, Locklear. Who is your friend?’

Patrus looked around as a group of elves seemed to materialize from behind the trees. ‘Patrus is my name.’

‘He’s a magician, and he’s here to help us shut down the rift machine,’ answered Locklear.

‘This is Lord Martin, Duke of Crydee.’

Patrus nodded. ‘Odd-looking Duke, if you ask me.’

Martin smiled a half-smile very similar to his brother Arutha’s. ‘Court dress isn’t particularly useful when running through the woods, I have found.’

‘Well, there is that,’ said the old man, scratching his neck. ‘We’re looking for that machine. You have any idea where it is?’

‘I know exactly where it is,’ said Martin. ‘A large company of moredhel left for the south this morning, and we slipped in behind their lines and came back upriver. I didn’t see the machine but I saw enough guards in a small area to be pretty sure where it is. Besides, there’s an odd feeling in the air, and it puts me in mind of that Tsurani machine in the Grey Towers back during that war. I’m sending word to Gardan so he can bring up the forces with Arutha when they get here.’

‘Too late,’ said James. ‘Patrus is of the opinion - ‘

‘Patrus doesn’t need anyone to tell his opinion for him, boy,’ said the old man. To Martin he said, ‘Duke, that pointy-eared bastard has probably only managed to get a few companies through with him else they’d be cleaning up the woods with the Kingdom forces already here. He’s almost certainly on his way to Sethanon, which is where these boys say he wants to go, so you’re probably facing some rear guards. But, if that machine stays open until the Prince gets here, well, there’s no telling how many more goblins and trolls and other bloodsuckers you’re going to be looking at before you can battle your way down to Sethanon.’

Martin was too concerned about what the old magician said to worry much about his lack of protocol. ‘What do you propose?’

‘Get us close to that damn machine, then set up a diversion and draw as many off as you can, say fake a major attack then fall back slowly, and if we can slip in, I can disable that machine.’

Martin glanced at James, who shrugged.

Martin said, ‘Very well, follow us, but you’ll have to come on foot.’

The three riders dismounted and one of the elves took the horses. ‘Lead them back to the Knight-Marshal and tell him what you heard here. Tell him also that I expect we could use some relief to the west of the old stone bridge.’

The elf nodded, took the horses and left. Martin glanced at the sky through the branches. ‘Good, this will bring us to the bridge at sundown, and you should be able to slip across the river in the dark while we distract them at the bridge.’

‘Slip across the river?’ said Patrus. ‘You mean as in get wet?’

‘Yes,’ said Martin with a smile. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to wade. There’s a shallow ford about a mile upriver and I doubt the goblins know of it.’

‘Goblins?’ asked Locklear.

‘We’re seeing mostly goblins and Quegan mercenaries. I think most of the moredhel went south with Delekhan or whoever is leading that detachment.’

James was silent for a moment, then said, ‘Locklear, how’s your Quegan?’

Locklear said, ‘Pretty fair. How’s yours?’

‘Not as good as yours,’ said James. ‘I didn’t grow up in a port town like you did.’

‘What’s Krondor? Landlocked?’ asked the younger squire.

‘You don’t see many Quegan traders in the sewer, is my point.’

‘Oh,’ said Locklear. ‘Why?’

‘Just that I don’t think we were likely to run into too many goblins or dark elves who spoke Quegan up at Northwarden, but I’m willing to bet you a good meal we’re going to find some of those damn Quegans around here.’

‘You’re not thinking of doing the “we Quegan mercenaries” thing again, are you?’ said Locklear with a look of concern on his face. ‘That worked fine when we were lying to trolls, but if there are some real mercenaries here . . . I don’t speak it well enough to fool a Quegan.’

‘We’ll worry about that problem if we come to it,’ said James.

Locklear rolled his eyes upward and said, ‘Great.’

James said, ‘Martin, instead of trying to mount an attack, why don’t you chase us into the enemy’s arms?’

Martin raised an eyebrow in curiosity. ‘Are you sure?’

‘No, but let’s do it anyway,’ said James with a grin.

As the sun set in the west, the sound of men running and shouting in Quegan for help reached the mercenaries at the bridge. Three men, two young and one old, raced for the bridge and in the distance pursuing soldiers were evident in the haze.

James was first to reach the bridge. Out of breath and looking desperate, he pointed and, in Quegan, shouted, ‘Attack!’

The second young man said, ‘Hold this bridge! We’ll get help!’

The mercenary leader turned to the troll who commanded his company and was about to ask what to do when an arrow arched overhead, landing nearby. Ducking behind the scant shelter afforded by the sides of the old stone bridge, he turned his attention to the attacking elves as the three who carried the warning ran for help.

James kept going and looked over his shoulder. Martin and the elves were doing their best to convince those at the bridge that there was a major offensive being launched at them.

James halted and motioned for Locklear to stop, allowing Patrus to catch up. The old man was clearly winded, and James asked, ‘You all right?’

Patrus nodded. ‘Not quite as fast as I once was. Give me a moment, then let’s do it again.’ He smiled his evil smile. They paused while Patrus caught his breath, then he nodded and they hurried off.

They were running toward where they thought the rift machine was hidden, in a small depression between two sheltering hills. A group of moredhel ran toward them and Locklear shouted in Quegan, ‘The bridge is under attack!’

The leader was a tall moredhel, with a set of shoulders to match Gorath’s. He wore a heavy fur jacket which left his massive chest uncovered and he shouted. ‘I don’t speak your Quegan dog’s tongue!’

James paused, and took a deep breath. ‘I speak the King’s Tongue,’ he replied, trying to accent his words. ‘The bridge is under attack. The trolls sent us for reinforcements.’

‘Attack?’ He turned to one of his warriors and sent him toward the bridge. ‘I am Moraeulf, son of Delekhan and second-in-command to my father. I command here while Delekhan travels to Sethanon. Whom do you serve?’

Locklear glanced at James, and James said, ‘We serve - ‘

‘Tell him about the elves!’ shouted Locklear, interrupting James as they had rehearsed.

‘Elves?’ said Moraeulf. ‘What is this of elves?’

‘And a tall human with a bow, able to hit a man at a thousand yards, is with them,’ said James.

‘Longbow!’ said Moraeulf. ‘It can be only Longbow. His death will bring me honour.’

James said, ‘What did he call the other?’

‘Calin, I think,’ said Locklear.

‘The Prince of Elvandar is here!’ he shouted, grabbing James by the shirt and easily lifting him off the ground.

‘That’s the name,’ said James, not having to work to look fearful. ‘Prince Calin, is what he said.’

‘Call my guards! We go to kill the eledhel prince and his human friend! I shall eat their hearts!’ shouted Moraeulf, dropping James. ‘Where are they?’

‘At the bridge to the west,’ said James, sitting in the dirt.

The six moredhel ran toward the bridge, and James shouted after, ‘I’ll send the rest after you!’

Locklear helped him to his feet, and said to James, ‘I can’t believe that worked.’

‘It will only work until that hothead gets tired of chasing Longbow and the elves through the wood. I guess we have maybe half an hour. Let’s go.’

James again ran through the trees and when he saw another band of moredhel guards near a clearing, he shouted, ‘Moraeulf said to come to the western bridge!’

The leader of the moredhel, an older-looking veteran said, ‘We are to guard this machine.’ He pointed to the rift machine and James realized he was standing in front of it. In the evening gloom and among the trees he would have walked past it had he not been drawn to the guards.

‘Moraeulf said we should guard it,’ said Locklear.

The warrior cast a sceptical glance at him, but James said, ‘He told us to tell you that we Quegan dogs are fit enough to guard the machine; you must come to hunt eledhel. Prince Calin and Martin’ Longbow attack the western bridge.’

The effect was instantaneous. The moredhel dashed off to the west.

Standing next to the machine, James said, ‘I wonder if Calin knows of the high regard in which his dark cousins hold him?’

‘I think he’s been around long enough to have some idea,’ said Locklear. Glancing at Patrus, he asked, ‘Can you stop this thing?’

As he asked the question, a squad of six moredhel appeared through the gate, walking down the ramp. James instantly took on a commanding manner and said, ‘We are being attacked in the west! Go support Moraeulf!’

They hurried off in the direction he pointed and Locklear said, ‘One of these days you’re going to run into a moredhel chieftain who just isn’t going to believe you.’

Patrus said, ‘Let me look at this thing.’ He walked around the machine, a platform only six feet deep and ten feet across. Two men could walk through it comfortably side by side, but no more. ‘I see they had to bring a lot of stuff here to build this,’ said the old magician. ‘That’s why it’s so small.’

James said, ‘The one the Tsurani used in the Riftwar was easily six or eight times as big, from what Arutha told me. They could bring waggons through it.’

‘This could handle a small cart, maybe,’ said the magician. ‘Well, let’s see what I can do to turn it off.’

He found several devices carved in the wooden pillar closest to him. They were inset with gems. He ran his hand over them top to bottom. When he got to the one second to the bottom, a spark shot out, knocking him over. As James helped him back to his feet Patrus said, ‘Well, I learned something.’

‘What?’ asked Locklear.

‘Not to touch that damn crystal again.’

He walked around the machine and as he returned to where James was, another six moredhel appeared. James again instructed them to find Moraeulf and they did as he instructed.

‘Can you do this?’ asked Locklear. ‘Maybe we can set fire to it.’

‘That might do it,’ said the old magician. Then his voice lowered, and he added, ‘But I doubt it. Magic like this doesn’t burn easy. Give me a few minutes, boy, and let me study this thing.’

James and Locklear looked at one another and both silently echoed the other’s thoughts: they might not have a few minutes to give.

Pug took a deep breath and said, ‘Owyn, you’re going to have to help me again. My powers are coming back, but I can’t rely on them right now to take us to Sethanon. You will have to transport us there.’

‘Me?’ objected Owyn. ‘I don’t know how.’

‘Yes you do,’ said Pug. ‘Much of what I know, you know. You just don’t realize it yet. Now, relax and let me guide you.’ He held out a metal orb.

Since having Gamina’s mind-touch to link them, Pug was able to reach Owyn and help him focus his magic. ‘You have to reach out. Sethanon is out . . . there,’ he said softly while Gorath watched.

Pug almost whispered. ‘You have to reach out and - ‘

Suddenly Pug’s eyes widened. ‘The rift! I can feel it!’

Gorath said, ‘Where?’

‘Somewhere near Sethanon! That is where Makala and the others must be operating.’

‘Let us go there!’ said Gorath. ‘If Delekhan and his allies are there, that is where I must go.’

Pug nodded and gripped Owyn’s shoulders. ‘Close your eyes and let me guide you. This is just like stepping through a door.’

Owyn did as he was asked and in his mind’s eye he saw the doorway. He felt Gorath’s hand rest atop Pug’s as mentally he stepped through the door.

And fell through the void.

Then landed unceremoniously on the ground.

Looking up, they saw James turn to Patrus and say, ‘How did you do that?’

James held out his hand to Owyn and Pug, and Locklear did the same for Gorath. James said, ‘If there was ever a more propitious entrance, I’ve never heard of it. You are welcome.’

‘Thank you, James,’ said Pug. He glanced at Patrus and said, ‘Who is this?’

‘Name’s Patrus,’ said the old magician walking past Pug and studying the machine. ‘One side.’

James said, ‘This is Pug.’

‘I know,’ said Patrus. ‘Saw him from a distance once. Came to Timons looking for magicians for his Academy. Hello, Owyn.’

‘Hello, Patrus. How did you get here?’

‘Long story.’

Another party of moredhel appeared in the rift machine and James shouted, ‘Elves are attacking Moraeulf to the west! Go aid him!’

The moredhel were disoriented by the passage and one glanced from James to Gorath. Gorath shouted, ‘You heard him! Run!’

The moredhel ran.

‘They’re coming through at about five-minute intervals,’ said James. ‘No more than half a dozen at a time.’

‘That’s still seventy an hour,’ said Locklear, ‘and Arutha is at least a day away. Martin and some elves are keeping things lively to the west of here, and Gardan is coming from the north, but unless we close this thing down, we’re going to have a thousand or more moredhel here by this time tomorrow.’

Gorath asked, ‘Where is Delekhan?’

‘He and his honour guard are already on their way to Sethanon,’ said James, ‘according to his son.’

Gorath said, ‘We must go there!’

‘First we must stop this machine,’ said James.

Pug said, ‘I can help, but I am without power to do it by myself.’

Owyn asked, ‘What do I do?’

Patrus jumped up on the platform and said, ‘You stand there and keep a safe distance, boy.’

Pug asked, ‘What are you doing?’

‘You know what has to be done, magician. This sort of thing can’t be done gracefully or without risk.’ He smiled at Owyn and said, ‘Pay attention to him, boy. He knows a thing or two.’ Then he jumped into the gate.

‘That’s the wrong way!’ shouted Pug.

But rather than rebound as Pug expected, Patrus seemed to enter slowly into the gap between the poles of the machine. His staff began to glow brightly and with a wild-eyed determination, he shouted, ‘You know what you must do, boy! One of us must do this, and I’m old and near the end, anyway. Do it!’

Pug gripped Owyn hard on the shoulder and said, ‘Give him your strength!’

Owyn asked, ‘What?’

‘He can only close the rift from within! Give him your strength! Make it quick!’

Owyn closed his eyes and let Pug guide him once more. He raised his hand and a flow of energy ran down his arm and out his fingers and struck the old magician as he hung halfway in the gate. Patrus shouted; it was unclear if it was a scream of pain or a yell of triumph. Then the rift blinked out of existence and a roar of wind exploded through the poles, knocking them all to the earth.

James was the first back on his feet, looking around. ‘Where’d he go?’

Pug shook his head. ‘He’s gone.’

Owyn said, ‘Gone?’

‘He knew what he was doing,’ said Pug. ‘I once closed a rift from inside. I had the help of Macros the Black, and I barely survived.’

Gorath said, ‘He died bravely.’

Owyn let the pain wash over him a moment. Patrus had been his first teacher and while he was a gruff old man with few endearing qualities, the boy respected and admired him. After a long moment, he sighed and stood up.

James said, ‘I don’t know how long it is before Moraeulf and the others return. But that wind that just blew through here had to alert someone.’

Pug said, ‘We must leave anyway.’

‘Which way?’ said James. ‘I have no desire to try to work our way through the moredhel lines again. I’ve run out of clever ploys and misdirection.’

Pug said, ‘We must go to Sethanon.’ He looked at Locklear and James. ‘You know why, and soon the others will, too.’

Gorath said, ‘If Delekhan is in Sethanon, then so must I be!’

Pug said, ‘Form a circle.’ They did and joined hands. ‘Put your mind at rest, Owyn, and I will again guide you.’

Owyn did as he was bid and Pug led him mentally. It was getting easier for the young magician to do this, and he responded more quickly to Pug’s direction.

Suddenly they were somewhere else. They felt a sensation of movement, and displacement. ‘We are almost - ‘

They struck a barrier of pain and even Gorath screamed in agony as they were repulsed from their destination. The powerful moredhel was the last to lose consciousness as he saw the others lying on the cold soil, stunned and twitching in pain. Then he fell into a mindless stupor.