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Authors: Pamela F. Service

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BOOK: Storm at the Edge of Time
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“I do not want to talk about it.”

“You'd better, though. You probably saved our lives.”

After a long pause, Tyaak said gruffly, “I had been training as a navigator. I was good at it. My father said so, everyone did. But it is a complex skill. Some people are good at languages, others have a way with engines—I
just had a knack for the mathematics and instrumentation used in navigation. Then once, on a training mission, our little ship developed a core disphasing, and most of our systems were damaged. It was up to me to navigate back to the nearest base. It was difficult with some of the equipment out, but I did it. We survived. It was only afterward that I discovered that our entire navigation system had been out. I had done it totally … on instinct.”

“So, did you tell anyone?” Jamie asked.

“No! It terrified me. No one should have been able to do that. I was afraid it was some primitive, demeaning Human skill I had inherited from my mother. I didn't want anyone to know.”

“Well, now you know you needn't worry,” Arni said. “Most normal humans couldn't do it either.”

“Why not shut up,” Tyaak snapped, “and do something about a fire.”

“Won't,” Arni said, crossing his arms.

Jamie was too cold to be stubborn. She picked up the staff and poked its tip into the grass at her feet. “Look, let's all three hold this thing and think about fire. Then at least we can imagine being warm.”

Jamie didn't know what the others were thinking about, but she imagined the fires they sometimes had in the family room. Her parents would be reading; her brother would be studying, stretched out on the floor with the cat on his back. The picture made her achingly homesick, so she switched to a summer campfire. Blazing at first, so you had to keep turning yourself like meat on a spit, one side to the flames, the other to the cold dark pine woods. Then dropping to dancing
yellow
flames in which you could see dragons, dancers, and fantastic cities. Finally came the coals, glowing embers like newborn jewels, perfect for roasting marshmallows and stretching toes toward to soak up the last of the warmth.

She could almost feel it again, warming the tips of her toes and slowly spreading its healing warmth upward. She sighed and opened her eyes, and still the embers glowed at her, smug and fierce like the eyes of dragons.

“We did it,” Arni whispered.

“How?” Tyaak said, but no one gave an answer. The fire grew from embers to a small patch of cheerily dancing flames. The lack of fuel didn't seem to bother it at all.

“You know,” Jamie said after a time, “we should be giving some thought to this. Is it us, is it the staff, or is it both? If we can …”

Her words dried up. In the stormy darkness beyond their shelter, there was something darker. A shape moved toward them.

Their fire glinted in its eyes.

Chapter Ten

Staring in terror at the thing, Jamie slowly realized it was not one of the Viking raiders. It was a horse, a shaggy gray horse. Her eyes flicked to its back, but it carried no rider.

The horse, however, was staring just as hard at her. Its eyes in the firelight were bright blue. With a snort, it took several steps closer and roughly butted each of them with its head. Then it nudged the staff at their feet.

Arni jumped up. “It's him! Urkar's a horse!”

“Ridiculous!” Tyaak said.

“Why?” Jamie asked, thinking about blue-eyed sheep and owls. “He said that outside the circle nearly the only thing he had power to do was change shapes. And look at the eyes.”

“It's an animal. A blue-eyed animal.”

Standing up, Jamie tentatively patted the horse's
neck. “All right, but it's just the kind of animal we need to get out of here before anyone tracks us down.”

“But there are three of us,” Tyaak pointed out.

The horse turned and trotted off into the rain and wind. Jamie was about to snap that now they didn't even have one horse, when they heard several whinnies and saw their horse returning, herding two others as if it were a sheepdog.

Arni was jumping about like an excited flea. “He's rounded up two farm horses for us. I get the gray!” Grabbing the staff, he burst out of their little shelter and swung onto the blue-eyed horse's back.

The shaggy brown horse nearest Jamie did not seem very happy to be there. It stood with head down and legs braced against the wind. Jamie guessed the gray horse had gotten it there with a little mind control and a lot of bullying. She patted its shoulder. It shivered but stayed still. Stepping onto a broken stone wall, she clambered awkwardly from it to the horse's back.

The blue-eyed gray nudged and nipped the remaining horse, a black mare, over to another wall so a reluctant Tyaak could do the same. “I cannot believe how primitive this is,” he muttered once he was mounted. “Using animals for transportation.”

Jamie snapped, “So maybe you'd rather walk all the way back to the stone circle with sword-swinging Vikings at your heels?”

The gray horse nickered, stepped over to their fire, and deliberately crushed it out with one hoof. Then it gave the other horses swift nips, and they were off.

Once they were fully clear of the sheltering ruins, the rain and wind hit like a club. Jamie flattened herself
against her horse's neck, surprised that the animal could even stand up in this, let alone see where it was going. The sheets of rain were so thick, she could scarcely glimpse the horses ahead.

After seemingly endless riding, she noticed that the rain, if not the wind, was slackening. Then, as if they'd stepped through a curtain, the rain stopped and the howling wind tore apart the clouds that had covered the moon. By its chill light, Jamie could see they were following a narrow mud-slick road cutting through grass and heather. She strained to see ahead and caught the glint of moonlight on two stretches of water.

The horses moved steadily on; Jamie clung to hers for warmth as much as for safety. She was sorry she no longer had her cloak. It would be just as soaked as her other clothes, but still it would be one more layer against the wind. Her fingers were too cold even to feel the coarse mane she was clutching. She wondered how long it took for someone to die of exposure.

A cry pierced the wind. A bird, Jamie guessed, but what would a bird be doing out on a night like this? The cry came again, clearly from behind. Awkwardly, Jamie turned to look.

Riders. Four of them, coming fast. One called again, and she knew it was not a friendly hello. It was a Viking war ciy like the ones she'd heard during the raid.

The gray horse jolted into high speed and the others followed his lead, making their riders clutch frantically to stay on.

Jamie peered ahead through her horse's flying mane. Yes, she could see it—the stone circle. Not far now. But their pursuers were not far, either.

The ditch encircling the stones, stretched like a shadow across the ground ahead. Suddenly Tyaak's horse stumbled and the boy went flying into the heather. Horrified, Jamie looked behind. The riders had nearly caught up with them. If they didn't know who was carrying the staff, they might go for Tyaak. She yanked at her horse's mane, trying to make it turn, but it charged straight ahead until it met the gray horse charging back.

One Viking had already dismounted and was running with upraised ax toward the fallen boy. Tyaak struggled to his feet and tried to dodge, but the gray horse, with Arni clinging to its back, galloped past him, reared, and brought hooves down on the startled warrior. Through the screaming wind, Jamie heard a cry and a muffled thud as the man toppled to the ground.

Jamie saw another rider bearing down on them. She kicked her horse and it shot off willingly, but in the wrong direction. Yanking at its mane, she tried to turn it toward the stone circle. The other rider was close behind her now, but cutting toward them came the gray horse.

Jamie tugged at her horse again, and it turned so suddenly she found herself slipping from its bare back and flying onto the heather-carpeted ground. Not very softly carpeted, she thought as she lay breathless, looking up at the racing moonlit clouds.

The Viking reached her. Coldly he looked down from his horse, his eyes like pools of darkness. It was the mustached blond from the island. Then his attention snapped toward Arni, who was barreling toward them, yelling and brandishing the staff over his head. Jamie
saw the man's face light up. He had seen what he sought.

The blond warrior raised his own cry, drew his sword, and drove his horse toward Arni's. The little gray veered away, but not soon enough. The sword swept down toward the boy and all he could do was raise the thin wooden staff to ward off the blow.

Steel met wood in an explosion of light. Fire ran down the staff to the sword and ignited the warrior as if he were a fuel-soaked rag. His horse reared in terror and threw the flaming man to the ground.

Jamie staggered to her feet, then turned away, trying not to be sick. Nearby, Tyaak was trying, too, and failing.

Then Jamie remembered the other two warriors. Like dark shadows, they were closing in. Arni, still clinging to the gray horse, feebly shook the now darkened staff at them. They halted. Jamie and Tyaak both took this chance to run for the stone circle. They were close now, and with every stride they were coming closer. Jamie heard hooves but didn't dare turn. Just think about feet, she told herself, feet pounding over heather and moon-pale grass.

The ditch. Down it and up again. Through the circle of stones, Tyaak just ahead of her. She turned. Arni and the gray reached the ditch and leaped it. Behind them, the two riders were about to follow.

Then they were gone. No, Jamie realized, they were probably still there, leaping over the ditch. It was their quarry that was gone. As the mists swirled and spun, Jamie sank shakily to the ground. She had never been so happy to be miserably dizzy in her life.

The mist cleared to show the changeless stones and the high, crystalline stars. The silence was so deep it almost hurt her ears. Jamie looked around her. Arni and Tyaak were nearby; but in place of the horse, Urkar stood in the center of the circle, black staff in hand. He raised it point downward and jabbed it into the earth.

Jamie cringed against an expected explosion. But the earth only trembled slightly and was still.

As though reading her thoughts, Urkar turned their way. “It's just one staff. I need three to do anything worth doing.”

“It did pretty well back there,” Arni said quietly. “Correction:
You
did pretty well. The staff has its own little ways, but it was your power it fed on.”


I
did that?” Arni gasped. “I cremated that man?” “With a little channeling from the staff. But don't fret. If he had guessed the kind of threat you posed, he would have tried something of the same on you. He had the power, that one, though it came from the other source.”

With a casual pass of his hand, Urkar started a small campfire. “But never mind all that. You succeeded. And quite frankly, I wasn't at all sure that you would, family or not. Come, warm up a moment.”

Suddenly the flames twisted flat as a rush of wind howled through the circle. Spinning around, Urkar raised his arms and yelled something into the sky. The wind faltered and died away.

“The storm!” he explained angrily to the huddled children. “It's drawing closer. I can't stop time, for all that I can move within it. At its front end, time is still
moving forward, and that is where the storm will break. You must be off after the second staff.”

Even Tyaak could only groan in protest, but now his groan was one of three.

Urkar sighed. “Mortals! You need to rest and recover. Get over here by the fire, then.”

Willingly Jamie did so, slumping into an exhausted heap on the heather. The heat of the fire seemed to reach into every fiber of her. She closed her eyes, nestling into a cocoon of healing warmth. Dimly she heard Urkar's voice ranting about patience. It seemed as distant as the stars.

Chapter Eleven

What woke her was change, like falling asleep in a steadily moving car and waking when it stops.

There was cold and the noise of wind, vast outdoor wind. Jamie rolled over on the crackly, pungent plants. She opened her eyes.

It was night. She sat up. A half moon lit up the broken stone circle and the white tourist placards.

Confused, Jamie sat on the cold ground, torn between delight and startling sadness. It
had
been a dream. She'd gone out to the stone circle to defy those petty signs. She'd fallen, hit her head, and had this long, incredibly real-seeming dream.

It was over. She was safe, and yet she felt she'd lost something precious. Even the idea of doing things supernatural instead of just seeing them wasn't all that bad. But that had been a dream, too. And it was a great
relief to know she would not be lost in some dead time, pursued by terrifying powers. She was finally safe.

Or she would be as soon as she trotted back to their house, let herself in, and crawled into bed. Cautiously Jamie stood up, but the dizziness had gone. She took a few steps toward the road.

“So this is your world, is it?”

She almost screamed. Spinning around, Jamie stared into a dark greenish-brown face. Beside the alien boy, a smaller red-haired boy smiled excitedly. “A lot more stones have fallen. Do priests still tell you to stay away from here?”

Stunned, Jamie stammered, “No, just tourist signs. You're real.”

“Believe me,” Tyaak said sarcastically, “I am just as
delighted
to see that you are real, too. I had almost convinced myself that some native insect had bitten me and I was having a toxic hallucination.”

“You two are awfully hard to convince,” Arni said. “Magic is real. I guess it isn't always fun, but it
is
real.” Jamie thought the boy sounded a little less enthusiastic than he had before, but she couldn't blame him. Before “magic” came into her life, the only killing she'd seen had been on TV.

BOOK: Storm at the Edge of Time
2.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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