The Crystal Sorcerers (33 page)

Mark got slowly to his feet and went to Ikawa to mutter, "He's just amazing."

Ikawa, smiling, looked at Mark. And in the clarity of that moment, he knew that if a gateway to Earth could ever be opened, the men would cross back through as friends, and remain that way, no matter what madness their old world was still creating.

"So we won!" Tulana shouted happily. "I could sure use a drink!"

"I think we all could," Ikawa laughed. Tulana's words had certainly summed it all up. They were alive, and their precious world of Haven would survive.

With his left hand, Mark rumbled in his tunic and pulled out a silver flask.

"Allic's," he said. "He left it behind the night he left. I've been keeping it for him."

Clumsily Mark uncorked it, and offered the first drink to Ikawa. Then they passed it on to their circle of comrades, who stood laughing with joy and exhausted relief.

"We have survived again," Ikawa whispered. Looking over at Leti, he smiled.

"So there was Tulana, as naked as the day he was born, and he actually sneaked up on Leti and hugged her. I thought she was going to lose her last meal." Mark laughed, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"And you should have seen Ikawa's face," Kraut interjected. "It looked like he was going to kill him."

Ikawa forced a smile and shook his head as he looked over at the drawn features of his old friend and lord.

Allic smiled to show that he was interested in the conversation, but his exhaustion was evident.

Jartan and the attack contingent had returned that morning. The reunion had been a painful one as both sides, now fully aware of what had happened, eagerly sought the faces of loved ones, and in more than one case had retreated to a private room to hide their grief at the terrible price that had been paid.

Minar had lost a beloved son.
Chosen had left as silently and mysteriously as he had arrived, his only living granddaughter gone. Several of Jartan's grandchildren were dead as well, and many of the party had suffered some injury, either physically or worse yet, to their inner senses from the horrors they had fought.

Whether or not Gorgon had survived the destruction of the portal was not known. Jartan's attack had reached to the final gate into the nightmare world which was Gorgon's home, and had pressed no further--for that was a place no one of Haven could endure. They had started back, leaving a wake of destruction behind them, laying down barriers and traps, sealing Gorgon off.

The rescue of Allic had been a near thing as well. The relief force, led by Storm, had arrived to find Allic and eight survivors cornered in a cave and fighting off repeated attacks. It would take time, Ikawa realized, for Allic to heal--not just physically, but also from the nightmare of what he had endured.

"The druid and the portal?"
Allic asked. "What happened?"

The group looked over at Kochanski, who stood in the corner with Sara beside him holding a possessive arm around his waist.

"It won't work. I'm trying to create a replica from a hazy memory of seeing Stonehenge years back while in
England, but the druid's version is a model of how it appeared two thousand years ago. I guess I just never realized how precise the reproduction would have to be here on Haven. Besides, the druid told me he tried countless times to go back, always without success."

"So there's no going back, then?" Storm asked.

Kochanski shook his head, and a smile that almost looked like relief crossed his features.

"I guess not."

"That's too bad," Storm replied, and Mark chuckled at the obvious lie.

Ikawa looked around the group. He could sense the tension leaving most of them, the burden of the decision having been lifted. Only two of his men, and Smithie, looked crestfallen, though he could only hope that with time they would come to accept their new world.

He bid a silent farewell to his parents and the world he had left. He would always regret that they could never know that he was safe, that his world had not ended in an unnamed skirmish in
China, but in fact had barely begun.

"I think it's time you got some sleep, Allic," Storm said affectionately, kissing her brother on the forehead.

He looked at the circle of friends around him and nodded.

"You've got the best of
worlds
right here," he whispered. "Believe me, I know."

Ikawa nodded and came up to take Leti's hand.

"Of course, Mark and Ikawa need their sleep now as well," Allic said, a mischievous grin lighting his face.

"You've got to be kidding," Storm laughed. Taking Mark's hand, she left the room, the rest of the group following.

"Come on, Kochanski, let's go for a swim. There's a beautiful spot--a secret place only I know about," Sara said as they stepped into the hallway.

"Are you crazy? The last thing I want to see is water," Kochanski replied, looking nervously at his friends, who filed past him. "I was thinking of going with the guys for a drink."

"Well, I'll come along then," she announced.

Going down the hallway, they passed through Jartan's audience chamber, again aswarm with activity as the god set about bringing order back to his realm.

Kochanski looked over at the column of light as he passed through.

"Sorry about the portal, Kochanski," the god whispered in his mind.

"Actually, I'm glad it turned out the way it did," Kochanski thought in reply. "We all thank you, though, for making the offer to us."

"You deserved it. But I must say I'm glad you'll be staying. Once things settle down we'll have a talk."

"With pleasure, my lord."

"Take care of that granddaughter of mine. Give her a couple of more years and you might find her a wonderful lady to be with. And for all our sakes, don't get her angry, or we'll never hear the end of it."

As Jartan's thoughts pulled away, Kochanski felt as if he heard booming laughter.

"Did he say something?"

"Nothing, kid."

"I'm not a kid," Sara replied, pressing close to him. "I'm damn near eighteen."

"In my book you are, at least for the next year or so. After that, we'll talk."

"You promise?" She looked up at him, beaming.

"Sure." He couldn't help feeling
a growing
warmth for her, even though she did drive him crazy.

Leaving the chamber, they turned down a hallway that led past the workshops. A door swung open, and Kochanski felt Sara's grip tighten.

"Hi, Kochanski."
Deidre, her eyes warm and seductive, looked straight into his. "Going any place special?"

"Well, I was going to join my friends for a drink to celebrate," Kochanski replied, unable to drop his gaze.

"We were planning to go there
alone,
" Sara interrupted, her voice dripping with venom.

"Oh, I'd love to join you, though," Deidre replied.

She looked back through the doorway.

"Grandfather, I'll be back later," she called, and closed the door behind her.

She came up on Kochanski's other side even as Sara pulled him along.

"It's Sara, isn't it?" Deidre said sweetly. "Tell me, are you still enjoying school?"

Kochanski gulped, wondering if, after all that had happened, he'd live to see the end of the day.

The druid looked up and saw the door closing.

Damn girl. She'd kept him out of a good fight, hovering over him and not giving him a moment of peace. In addition, the Sorcerers Guild was already putting heavy pressure on him to tell them the secret of how he'd extended his lifespan. After all, he was over two thousand years old, and a sorcerer's life expectancy was only a thousand years, or at most, twelve hundred.

Maybe he would share the secret formulas--maybe not. He did know that none of their bribes had piqued his interest yet. Oh, well, he had lots of time.

Still, he
had
been under a lot of pressure lately. Maybe he could slip away for a while. There were a number of interesting young ladies about, and it would do his spirits good to meet some of them.

He looked back at the model on the table.

All wrong, all of it wrong. And what was that fool doing by knocking down the lintels and leaving them scattered about? What conjuring could he ever hope to do with it?

The druid lowered his staff to knock the model apart, and the piece of amber which had come with him from the old world--now shaped as his most sacred crystal--started to glow.

Startled, he hesitated.

There was a tiny snap of light in the middle of the model and he drew closer, holding his staff above it and gazing in.

People! There were people on the other side! And another
Stonehenge!

He could never allow this to happen. These men who had come to him might be all right, but Caesar--dead or not--had sworn to hunt him forever. He still considered himself fortunate that Kochanski had believed him when he'd said he'd never been able to find Earth. The fool!

"I'm still alive, you bastard! You'll never get me!" the druid roared.

The images on the other side shifted, faces looking about in fear. He laughed darkly, screaming a cursing incantation, and brought down the staff to smash the model into a thousand broken splinters.

No, they'll never get me,
the druid laughed to
himself
, panting from the excitement.

He went to the door and started to open it, then looked back at the fragments. With a wave of his hand they reassembled, but the pattern was different, though already he wasn't sure how.

Ah, well, other things to worry about, such as the ladies. He quickly combed his hand through his long flowing beard, fluffing it out.

He waved the door open, stepped into the hallway, and looked back once more at the model.

Already he wasn't quite sure what had happened.

Must have been that wonderful brandy I snuck earlier.

Now, brandy and ladies
together,
he thought gaily. Humming a tune from the old fertility rites, he closed the door behind him.

Sarnak cleared his throat, and the argument that had been raging among his advisors instantly ceased.

"Let us summarize what we have learned. Gorgon was presumably killed by the blast. Correct?"

"There is a ten percent probability that he managed to leap back through the portal as it blew. Therefore, there is a very slim possibility he still lives. However, his armies are decimated, and Jartan and his allied gods left Gorgon's realm in a shambles. So, as a player, he is off the board."

"And Patrice?"

"More difficult to determine, sire.
If she had an escape hole with powered pentagrams as we have set up here, she could easily have fled relatively intact. But she is an outlaw without a power base, since Jartan has already assimilated her realm. Her sole strength, assuming she lives, would be that she is in possession of the Crystals of Fire."

"Which would give her tremendous individual power, but nothing else," interjected another advisor.

"Hmm," Sarnak mused. "Perhaps we can use this.
Ralnath,
set up a team to surreptitiously investigate all the outer worlds she might have ported to in an emergency. I'll expect my first report in a ten-day."

"Anything else for now?" he continued, glancing down the conference table. "All right, you are dismissed until tomorrow."

As the advisors stood and mingled, Ralnath followed his master into his inner office.

"Sire, I have news that I knew you would not want mentioned at the staff meeting. The information reached me as the meeting was about to begin." He paused nervously, trying to gauge Sarnak's mood. "It is an analysis of the potential danger to you that our sensitives and detection team have been picking up."

Sarnak's face froze slightly, and though his voice remained calm, his eyes went flat and lifeless. Ralnath had seen this reaction before, and trembled inwardly.

"Well?"

"Not good, sire. We've determined that Boreas has made a breakthrough in farseeking." He paused for a reaction or comment,
then
continued hurriedly.

"Apparently the offworlder Giorgini came up with a new method of directional finding. He has set up sites across the world with sensitives and farseekers. They cannot locate you by themselves, but over a period of time they will be able to pick up your aura in a general area and be able to triangulate these findings to center your location."

Sarnak turned away, to seemingly study the map on the wall. "I presume destroying those stations would be useless."

"Correct, sire. It would merely alert them as to their effectiveness."

There was a period of silence and Ralnath wisely kept his mouth shut, though he watched Sarnak's aura begin to brighten as the demigod fought for control.

"How much time?"

"They calculate three to six months, sire."

Again there was a moment of silence; then Sarnak said briskly and casually, "I wish to see the report in its entirety before we come to any hasty conclusions. If it is correct, then we have to set up alternate plans of action. That is all for now, Ralnath. You may leave me."

Ralnath was grateful to be dismissed. His master was never
so
deadly as when he reacted in so detached and perfunctory a manner.

When he was alone, Sarnak's self-discipline began to deteriorate rapidly.

Boreas will find me, he thought desperately. That creature of ice and hate won't just kill me--he shivered--I'll be tortured for eons. If he can find me here, shielded as thoroughly as I am, then he will be able to track me down wherever I run, be it this world or another.

In desperation he analyzed his options. There was only one solution he could think of.

Now I am truly accursed, for I will have to awaken the Old Gods. Only they will have the power to save me from Boreas.