He wondered why Pylees hadn’t gone with the other barbarians to take Jatn and the capital. Andar would like to think that she was against such cruelty, but she’d been in favor of the men fighting over the possession of Siki’s body and the women doing the same for Andar. Not one person in that town seemed to oppose the idea. At least in Jatn, someone would’ve voiced outrage if barbarians had been the ones captured. At least Andar hoped so.

  Andar noticed that something had happened to the land farther out from the forest. It was as if an earthquake had ruptured the surface, with cracks radiating out from deep fissures, too deep for him to see the bottom from here. He would get a better look when he was at the river.

  He and Toothy waited for the bearlike creature to leave before they approached. Andar’s thirst had really started to sting his dry throat during the time he stared at the water, and now he lay down at the river bed and cupped water into his mouth until he was satisfied. Toothy drank with his head fully submerged. Andar stared at his little friend, worried the currents would pull him under at any moment, but the strong muscles of his thick legs held him firm.

  When Toothy was done, Andar walked up the river until it was narrow, the water speeding through. Here he jumped over it with a long leap.

  He turned around to speak to Toothy on the other side.

  “I’ll be right back. I just want to check what happ—”

  Toothy ran and jumped over the river. The fat little guy soared! He landed just before Andar, sticking all four feet to the ground with supreme balance.

  “Skyfire and ash,” Andar said as he looked closer at Toothy’s legs. He had thin ankles, but there was a good chunk of muscle at the first bend. Andar didn’t think those bends were knees but more like the ends of the animal’s long feet, reminding Andar of the legs of a cat, only much larger.

  Andar ventured closer to the cracked earth with Toothy right behind him. There was a clear entrance to a cavern previously hidden by a hill. But much of the cavern had collapsed deeper in.

  “This must be where KRenn fled from the kasigerr. Then the kasigerr caved in the cavern on top of him.”

  “Blargh,” Toothy said with some alarm to his froglike voice.

  Andar looked in the same direction as the animal. He was stunned when he saw the same young man from before, the one who’d spoken to the kasigerr. He was close enough to hit with a rock if Andar was to pick one up and throw it at him.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Andar could see clearly now that the young man was only a few years older than he was, perhaps twenty. He could’ve been older, however, for he had the skin and wrinkles of an older man. It was his youthful dark eyes that told Andar he had not seen many years. His black hair was long and straight, light enough to be blown by the gust of wind that passed between them.

  Andar figured he could run into the forest and probably make it, but he wouldn’t. The mage did not look at him aggressively but cautiously. Andar didn’t know what the young man was capable of, but the young man didn’t know what Andar was capable of either. Except for one thing. Andar had destroyed the rift, the rift that this man had likely made.

  Andar was glad for his sword, though it became difficult to keep from drawing it as the mage approached him. Andar looked around for the kasigerr. The beast was too large to hide anywhere nearby, but there was one tall hillside a few miles away. Andar supposed the enormous beast could be lying down behind it.

  The mage came closer, eventually stopping just a few yards away. It was a good place to stop, Andar thought, for neither of them could draw their weapon and hope to close the distance quickly enough to surprise the other.

  Does he even speak the same language?

  “You are not a summoner,” said the young man. He had a familiar accent. Given that his hair was black, he was no Analyte.

  He’s a barbarian!

  “Why do you think I’m not a summoner?” Andar replied.

  “Do not pretend, or I might pretend things also. Is that what you want?”

  Andar smiled politely, but it would be dangerous to ignore the thick tension between them.

  “I will not pretend anything if you don’t either,” Andar agreed. “I’m not a summoner. How did you know?”

  “Because I can feel it.”

  Andar didn’t know exactly what the young man had felt or if he was lying. If he’s being truthful, what else can he feel? He must know it was me who destroyed the rift, but does he have any idea how?

  “What’s your name?” the young man asked.

  “Andar. Yours?”

  “Deza.”

  “You are…” Andar suddenly remembered how they hated the word “barbarian.”

  “I am what?” he asked.

  “You are from Disetel.”

  “Yes, and you are a human from western Aathon. You traveled with the other humans to Analyte land to destroy my rift.”

  The most shocking thing about that sentence was not that he had made the rift, for Andar had already assumed that. It was that he somehow knew what was going on in the light realm.

  He really does have eyes in our realm. Or he did while the rift was open.

  “Did you see us in the light realm, or did you feel what we were doing?” Andar asked.

  “I figured it out,” he said, choosing neither option.

  “How?” Andar asked.

  “I knew humans traveled east to destroy the rift, because my brother told me.”

  Andar was somewhat surprised Deza had answered his last question with what sounded to be honesty. Perhaps he really did want there to be trust between them. Or perhaps Deza just wanted Andar to ask about something else….

  “Who is your brother?”

  But Deza didn’t answer this time. Andar sensed a sudden change in the young man’s demeanor and felt inclined to draw his weapon.

  The silence drew on. Andar was about to take out his sword when the tension was broken by Toothy ripping a hunk of grass from the earth. The animal ground his snack between his teeth as he stared at the two of them from their sides. If he had any idea what was about to occur between Andar and Deza, he didn’t show it.

  Andar wondered if this mage, this summoner, could control Toothy. Andar had assumed the animal was loyal to him, but Toothy could be one more enemy to worry about in the fight that seemed destined to occur.

  As Andar surveyed his surroundings, he noticed that there were no other creatures in sight. There were no sounds of roars or howls in the distance. It was almost as if Deza had quieted the entire dark realm for him and Andar to speak.

  Andar realized something else, then. There was no cocoon of Artistry protecting Deza from the Esitry. Andar no longer needed to put any effort into keeping up his cocoon, but it was still there. Without it, Andar would be poisoned within moments. How was it that Deza did not need one?

  But more importantly, who was his brother, and was he here somewhere?

  Deza had a sword in his sheath on his belt, similar to Andar. Where he got such a weapon, Andar had no idea, unless he’d brought it here from the light realm. But what did that mean about his past?

  Andar had so many questions, but Deza still hadn’t answered the last about his brother. Andar tried another.

  “What is it you want?”

  Deza leaned forward as if he might make a sprint for Andar at any moment. “For my people to have a better home,” he answered.

  “What’s wrong with the current home of your people?”

  Deza appeared annoyed. “You have been to Disetel. You know what it’s like there.”

  “How do you know that?” Andar asked, trying to keep from panicking. What didn’t this barbarian know about him? Could he even know that Andar had destroyed the rift in Disetel?

  He probably felt me doing it. But how did he know it was me and not someone else? I suppose he could assume it would be the same person who destroyed the great rift, but he doesn’t answer my questions as if he’s assuming anything. He seems to know.

  Andar grew irritated as Deza stared at him without answering. He wondered just how dangerous this mage could be. But Andar could be just as dangerous. He wanted Deza to be the one worried.

  “Answer me,” Andar said.

  Deza did not appear worried, however, as he gave his answer. “I felt someone enter the rift in my homeland and destroy it. I doubt that person can be anyone but you. You then destroyed the rift I made in Analyte land. I know how you did it, and I know why you did it. What I don’t know is how you managed to arrive in Analyte land from Disetel as quickly as you did. You have not entered this realm until now. What did you do?”

  Was this the only reason Deza hadn’t attacked yet? Deza needed to know the answer to this one question?

  Andar wouldn’t reveal that he took a portal made by his brother, a rift in the light realm from Disetel to the Analyte palace. Even KRenn Trange had not predicted that a portal could be opened from one spot in the light realm to another.

  At least Andar wouldn’t reveal it until he knew everything he wanted to know.

  “I will tell you if you answer my questions,” he said, still unsure if he really would. Andar had no intention of helping this mage, who had admitted to creating the great rift which had led to the loss of so many lives. This mage had also sent the kasigerr after KRenn, forcing KRenn to run to the cavern that was very close to here where he was poisoned in a way that eventually killed him.

  “What questions?” Deza asked hesitantly.

  “Why did you make the rift?” Andar asked.

  “You know why.”

  “Confirm it for me.”

  Deza didn’t answer. Andar wondered if this was a proud man who would attack Andar not for a political purpose but because of his ego. Perhaps it was best to play nice for now.

  Andar asked, “Was it so humans and Analytes had to work together in the east so your people could take over the west?”

  “Yes,” Deza agreed immediately.

  Andar believed him. “But then you have to know that humans will take back their cities.”

  “Their cities? Are you not human?”

  “You know I am.”

  “Then why not say they are your cities?”

  “Because I will not be the one fighting for them.”

  “You won’t?” Deza sounded as if he didn’t believe Andar.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Andar said. “You must know that humans will take back the Western cities. Many of your people will die, so why attack them at all?”

  “That is not something I plan to reveal.”

  Andar was annoyed at first, but he realized that Deza could’ve lied. At least this way he was being honest.

  “Fine,” Andar said. “Tell me instead how you ended up here? Surely you weren’t born in this realm.” And how do you live here without a cocoon of Artistry protecting you from Esitry?

  “I will let you know. When I am done, you will tell me how you traveled quicker than horse and boat. Yes?”

  “I will,” Andar agreed. He might prove that to be a lie later, but we shall see.

  “I came here through the rift in Disetel. It was made naturally by a wisdom tree. You damaged the roots of that tree enough to destroy the rift, so you should know that I did nothing to create that one.”

  Andar had no idea if that was true. He didn’t have a single thought as to how a man could create a rift. But what he really needed to know was just how powerful that kind of man would be.

  “Why did you come here?” Andar asked.

  “To create a rift in Analyte land,” Deza said. He spoke the words as if his task had been honorable. It made Andar want to draw his weapon and attack.

  “Didn’t you know what it would do to the Analytes?”

  “Of course. That was the point. We knew it would take humans many years before they finally traveled east to help the Analytes stop it, but I admit that it took you humans even longer than we anticipated. Since I made the rift, I have returned to the light realm several times, but I always have come back here to assist the growth of the rift and the kasigerr.”

  Andar needed to know something. “Did you speak to the last man who was here, KRenn Trange? He also called the beast a kasigerr.”

  “We did not speak,” Deza said.

  So it is true that you attacked him from a distance before he had a chance to explain himself.

  Now the only reason he allows me to speak is because he wants the answer to my speedy travel in case it might help his people. Well it won’t unless they have a mage like Leo who can use the Taesitry from a testing stone.

  Andar readied himself for combat, though he still wished to avoid it. The most dangerous kind of foe was one with unpredictable power.

  He wasn’t sure he believed Deza’s tale about entering the rift in Disetel to make one in Analyte land. There were too many details he was leaving out, such as how he could survive here and why he had not gone back as soon as the other barbarians sailed to Aathon from the south. Perhaps he needed to do something else, or he was waiting for something else to happen in the light realm. Or perhaps Andar’s destruction of the great rift had ruined whatever plan he had.

  “I have answered your questions,” Deza said aggressively. “Now it’s time you answer mine. How did you travel so quickly? Was it some kind of rift?”

  “I will tell you as soon as you throw your sword away from you.”

  Deza pulled his sword out of his sheath. But he held onto it as he regarded Andar. Eventually he tossed it aside. It clanked as it fell a few yards away, about the same distance Andar was from his potential enemy.

  “Now you do the same,” Deza said.

  Andar took out his sword. Part of him wanted to charge the mage right now, lock him in place with Artistry, and end his life before he attacked, but Andar had more honor than that. This man had not yet proven he wanted Andar dead. There was a small chance that Andar’s death would be meaningless to Deza. Andar had to hope for that.

  He took out his sword and tossed it. Toothy seemed frightened even though the weapon landed nowhere near him.

  “Blargh blargh!” He scampered around a bit, but Andar didn’t watch him for long. His gaze was on Deza.

  “Tell me,” the mage urged him.

  “It was a rift,” Andar admitted. “But I didn’t make it. I can’t.”

  “KRenn.”

  Andar didn’t have to feign sadness at the mention of the late mage’s name. “Yes,” he lied. “He died later. Did you know?”

  “I didn’t. I’m sorry.” He sounded genuine, surprisingly.

  “Why did you do it?”

  “He came to the rift I had made in hopes of destroying it.”

  That was true, Andar supposed.

  “Until I met you, I thought it was him who had destroyed the rifts after he had returned to the light realm,” Deza said. “How did he die?”

  “Esitry poisoning.”

  It was silent for a moment. Deza’s expression was tight with sadness, but Andar didn’t know how genuine it was.

  “Why aren’t you dying from Esitry poisoning?” Andar tried.

  “I exposed myself to Esitry gradually. I’m immune to it now, like a summoned creature in the light realm that learns to tolerate Artistry.”

  Andar didn’t believe him. It really seemed that this mage was stuck here. It was the only explanation as to why he had spent so much time in the dark realm. He couldn’t go back to the light.

  “Something happened to you in the light realm before you came here,” Andar figured. “I can feel it,” he lied.

  “You feel nothing.”

  “What happened? Perhaps I can help.” Andar was earnest. If they could avoid bloodshed, he would do it at all costs.

  Deza let out his breath and seemed to relax somewhat. Andar wanted to relax as well, but he worried that this mage had a surprise planned.

  “You didn’t mean to come to this realm,” Deza stated.

  “No,” Andar said.

  “But you knew you would once you destroyed the link holding the wisdom tree in the light realm.”

  “I did.”

  “You must’ve known you could’ve died?”

  “I figured I would,” Andar admitted.

  “So you sacrificed yourself.” Deza paused. “I did, too. And now we are both stuck here.”

  Andar believed him. So if both of them were in the same situation, did that mean they weren’t enemies?

  “How did you sacrifice yourself?” Andar asked. “The truth, Deza. Please.”

  The young man was nodding. “It has been a very long time since I could speak with someone besides my brother. Now with the rift gone, even he cannot hear me. You are the only one left, so I might as well speak to you.”

  Andar leaned forward. “What really happened to you?”

  “What do you know about the source of Artistry?” Deza asked.

  Shocked, Andar wondered if this mage could possibly know about Rolan, who was the commander of the army who had given Andar work and allowed him to keep their meager home in Jatn. Rolan had wanted Andar to dig in the Tisary until he found the source of Artistry. The commander had been working on the assumption that the source of Artistry must exist and must be closer to the surface within the Tisary than anywhere else. It was only there that they might reach it through digging.

  Of course, Andar would not forget his last day digging. He had reached a muddy substance that pulled him under. His rope had broken. It was only because of Leo feeling Andar’s panic through their stalwart link that Andar was still alive today. Since then, Andar had wondered if there really was a source of Artistry, or at least one that could be reached.

  “I don’t know much,” Andar admitted. “There was some belief that the source of Artistry could be found through digging in the Tisary, but I haven’t heard of any success in regard to that. I doubt it exists.”

  “It exists.”

  Andar saw nothing to indicate the man was lying, but this could be a trick.

  “How do you know?” Andar asked.

  “I’ve seen it.”

  “When?”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35