Bridgebreaker (The Echo Worlds Book 2) (14 page)

His eyes snapped open at the sound of a footfall on sand.  There, an elf stood, taut and alert, staring at Cendan with golden amber eyes.  A hint of a smile crossed the Elf’s face until he looked around.  Then, turning to Cendan, the once calm face was quickly filled with anger.  Whirling towards the Bridge, the Elf yelled something that Cendan couldn’t hear or understand; though he must have been the subject because the Elf pointed at Cendan with a hand shaking in anger.

Cendan turned his attention to where he had tried to form the copying pattern.  There!  Some pattern had formed, and he could only hope it would take him back to the Rivenwood and the Shrouded.  Obviously not a safe place either, but not everyone there was out to get him.  He ran towards the copied pattern and threw himself towards it with one glance back to the Bridge.  King Lachnin and three new Elves were through, and Lachnin was not overly happy to see him.  An elf cocked an arrow his way, but Cendan never saw it loose.

Pain engulfed him, worse pain than the travel there.  He would later compare the feeling to being on a beach with high winds and being near sandblasted apart.  Everything hurt, and all he could do was huddle into a ball as he fell through his tunnel, his tunnel to somewhere.  Solid ground greeted him with a heavy thud, and all he could do was groan.

“Cendan!”  Heather’s voice came to him as the grass he was on tickled his face.  He had made it.

________

Heather ran towards Cendan as he lay on the grass.  His clothing smoked, giving off a strange smell, and what she could see of his skin was raw and painful looking.  Gardener Xid had taken one look as Cendan came through and ran towards the wood.

“Xid... left me there.  Left me to the Elves.”

Heather nodded; not that Cendan could see it.  She had known there were some vocal members of the Shrouded, backed by some Elders, who wanted nothing to do with trying to help the Bridgefinders.  She’d personally been approached by some when the decision to warn the Bridgefinders had been made.  She’d been tempted, but had followed Rivenwood’s lead.

At first her decision had been one based mostly on saving her own skin.  If Grellnot managed to beat the Slyph, something she found to be likely, and then Grellnot defeated the Bridgefinders, then all that raw power would make him very powerful.  So powerful that she doubted that the Shrouded could do anything to the thing to stop it.  True, there had been some curiosity about the now nearly mythical Bridgefinders.  The Shrouded only talked about them in a historical tense, and knowing they were still around, she had wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

She’d not been impressed until she’d entered their headquarters.  It was a phenomenal work of magic and skill, one that even she, from a vastly different background, could appreciate.  And then there was Cendan.  She looked down on the man, on the edge of exhaustion and in pain.  Cendan had complicated every damn thing she’d done in the short time she’d known him.  Her feelings were confused, her mind was confused, and even her physical responses to the man were confused.  She wasn’t about to leave him here though.  Not at all.

She helped Cendan to his feet though he wasn’t totally able to walk right.  For once he didn’t question her, or what they were doing.  As fast as she could, she took him on a different path, toward Rivenwood’s tree and away from the direction Xid had gone.  Xid was probably already in communion with whatever Elder had put her up to this.  Now that they had been exposed, she wasn’t sure what else they were going to try, but they would have to do it soon.

“Damn, you are heavier than you look Bridgefinder,” Heather muttered.  Pausing to lean against a rock, Heather reached through to her fetish to try to find something that would help them move faster.  There was no such thing as a flight pattern, to the profound disappointment of generations of young Shrouded casters.  Not even a fast travel pattern.  But… there!  A pattern used to make things easier to move.

Quickly working the pattern, drawing on the stored magic in her fetish, she worked it on the shoes Cendan was wearing.  That should at least mean that the dragging would be easier as the pattern would keep his feet from digging into the ground.  Heather wished she had time to talk to Rivenwood herself.  As it was, she wasn’t going to stick around.  She was going to take Cendan and get out of here.  She didn’t know where they would end up, but being away from the rest of the Shrouded, at least while Cendan was under her care, was probably a good thing.

Grellnot stood on rock, hearing the noises of the creatures he had gathered as they stood behind him.  Grellnot cared nothing for them, and they were only there because of their fear.  Grellnot could taste it in the air; they were reeking of it.  The smell made him hungry, and happy.  The foolish things were all going to die when the attack started.  Grellnot was no fool, and he could count, for she had far more at her disposal.  Even the things behind him – Goblins and Trolls, Jabbers and Xacin, Grublings and Montoes – they loved her just as much as the things that she had gathered.

Grellnot knew some would turn on him, regardless of how many Grellnot ate or threatened to eat.  Stupid creatures were just a distraction; something to occupy her defenders so Grellnot could face off against her.  The Slyph, one on one.  Grellnot felt his hunger grow at the thought of her magic being his, savoring the raw feeling of it, becoming one with Grellnot.  The tinkling sound of the Finders shinies on his neck still were comforting, but Grellnot wanted more.  Did she even have bones to crunch and savor?  Would there be a treasure to hang here on the necklace when he had eaten his fill of her flesh and magic?

Grellnot turned toward his assembled horde.

“Grellnot find you all!  You serve Grellnot!  Grellnot can smell your fear, your hate.”  Grellnot spat onto the ground and grinned at the assembled things.  The first line shrank back, the rank smell of terror wafting to Grellnot like flowers in a garden.  “Grellnot not care.  You serve!  Or you die.”

A large Jabber moaned, its thousand mouths making a noise like a low rumble of thunder.

“Grellnot will lead you onward.  The Slyph will die.”

Chatter broke out in a group of Grublings, pale worm like things with spider-like legs.  Grellnot couldn’t understand Grublings, but it didn’t matter.  Leaping from the rock, Grellnot landed in the midst of the pale things, grabbed the nearest one, and bit it in half.  Chewing it slowly, Grellnot heard silence fall over the things he had gathered.

“You fight for Grellnot, or you die.”  Throwing the body of the Grubling on the ground, he leapt forward, not letting the things behind him see the look of disgust on Grellnot’s face.  Foul thing; not tasty; no blood.  No rich blood, just a pale, pasty, gummy flesh thing.

“Follow!” Grellnot yelled as he heard the things slowly and quietly follow.  Grellnot was marching to war.

________

Exiting the Rivenwood was easier than Heather had hoped it would be.  Greenguard let them past without a word, and the pattern she had used made the going a lot simpler.  Cendan had regained some strength and was at least helping more as they made their way to his car.

“Why would Xid do that?  I mean, I know Rivenwood said some didn’t agree, but to leave me there?  I just…  I don’t understand it,” Cendan asked out loud, still woozy from everything that had happened.  He winced occasionally, his skin still red and painful in places.  Heather didn’t say anything at first.  She kept glancing behind them and making sure they weren’t being followed; at least physically.  Once they were in the car, she planned on warding the hell out of it, but she didn’t want to waste the time now.

“Heather, did you know she was like that?” Cendan asked, finally starting to come fully around.  “And what the hell did you do to my feet?” he asked as he almost tripped and fell.  “Feels like I’m walking on oiled ice.”

Heather sighed.  “No of course I didn’t know Xid was one of those.  You knew there were factions though, some people always have to try to have their way.  Xid hid her feelings on the matter well.  She must have just been looking for the chance to get rid of you.”

Cendan nodded as he stumbled again.  “And the feet?”

Heather gave him an eye roll, “You couldn’t walk, and you were getting hard to drag around.  I used a pattern that reduces friction so that I could actually move you until you could walk on your own.”

Cendan gave her an appraising look; that was a rather good idea he knew.

“Well can you undo it?  Walking like this is hard.  I don’t even want to try driving.”

Heather closed her eyes for a second, and suddenly the ground felt solid again to Cendan.

“Thanks,” Cendan said quickly.

They walked in silence, both glancing back.

“Why aren’t they after us?” Cendan muttered.  Heather waved her hand in a see saw motion.

“I think, and it’s just a guess, that Xid’s move to leave you at the mercy of King Lachnin and the Elves was a plan of opportunity.  When it failed, they really didn’t have a plan to fall back on.  And of course, those who want to help you and yours were probably shocked at the attempt.  Some may plot behind his back, but no one wants to go up against Rivenwood when he’s paying attention.”  Heather looked behind them as well.  “That being said, once we get in the car, I’m going to throw some magical protections up.”

The car.  Cendan felt like he’d been stuck in a medieval fair for a week and was returning to the real world.  The air temperature got warmer as they walked, just as it had gotten cooler closer in.  They turned the corner into sunlight, blue skies, hot summer air, and his car.

“Hot,” Cendan said out loud, “Got to find a pattern to deal with that!”  He flashed a grin as they got in.

An involuntary gasp escaped him as he sat.  Parts of his body were still really in pain.  Nothing was broken, and he wasn’t actually bleeding, but the burning hot car seat against new pink skin was not a feeling he liked.  Heather took out her fetish and concentrated.  Cendan opened himself to the sight without thinking about it, watching her gather magic from both outside and from the well inside the fetish.  Patterns he somewhat recognized as a variation of the warding she had done that first night, on his house, flowed around the car, but with a new twist he’d not seen.

“I see the wards, but what was that last one?” Cendan asked as Heather very quickly put her fetish away.

“Drive, Cendan,” Heather motioned him.  “That last one will make it harder for anyone to scry out our location while we travel.  It can still be penetrated, but that combined with the car in motion will be extra difficult.”

Cendan nodded, pulling out of where he had parked several days ago, and heading back towards town.

“Ok so, first things.  Where are we going?”

Heather shrugged in response.  “Your guess is as good as mine.  Your house isn’t a great choice; they know where that is.”

Cendan nodded.  “I’d go back to the Bridgefinders lair, but Marcus is there.  Hell, he’s probably found a way to block me from coming back.  I’m also highly worried about Jasmine.  I still think she shouldn’t have stayed behind.”

Heather opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again.  They rode on in silence, Cendan trying to concentrate on driving, rather than the aches and pains he felt or the creeping sense of exhaustion covering him.  Heather shifted next to him, nervously fidgeting in her seat.

“So... what if I told you… I... could get us into the Bridgefinders lair?  You called it a lair, right?” she blurted out.

Cendan didn’t say anything at first, unsure of how to respond.  “How?” Was the eventual response.

“Well, when we went in before with... Jasmine, I sort of copied the pattern.”  She wasn’t looking at him, but he could hear the sound of uncertainty in her voice.  “Look, I didn’t know if I’d need it, and so, as a rule of thumb, I study every pattern I come across, even if I don’t think, normally, I’d use it.”  Head turned toward Cendan, she continued.  “I can get us in.  Both of us.  I’m not letting you out of my sight after what happened the last time.  With Marcus I mean.”

Cendan slipped into autopilot driving as he tried to think this over.  He wasn’t surprised she’d copied Jasmine’s entry pattern in retrospect, or at least had tried to.  He didn’t like it though.  It was again one of those trust things.  Heather had basically taken advantage of him with magic, then taken him to her group, her Shrouded, allowing him to learn more magic in a few days than he’d ever learn on his own.  Then she saves him from a faction that wanted him gone, at the same time as now telling him she can break into the Bridgefinders lair.  Good and bad, mixed into a great big mess.  So typical for him with women.  Even with a woman who he wasn’t even sure how he felt about.

“Cendan?” Heather asked, cutting into his train of thought again.

“Yeah sorry... I… ok fine.  Bridgefinders it is.  At least the other Shrouded, or at least the ones who want to get rid of me, can’t get in.”

Heather snorted.  “They won’t be after you anymore.  Their gambit failed; there’s no reason to chase you once you get into the lair again.  The whole purpose of that exercise was to block you from taking your training back to the Bridgefinders.  Once your back why fight?”

Cendan nodded.  She was right though he still felt weird about the whole damn thing.

“Not that your training will help much without Jasmine and Marcus.  And they both hate magic,” Heather added.  “So... I’m going to stick around and help.”

Cendan cocked an eyebrow at that.  “Oh?  Why?  I mean, yes we can use the help, but...  The Bridgefinders aren’t likely to be your cup of tea.”

Heather laughed out loud this time.  “True, but I’ve invested too much time in you, Cendan Key, to have you get killed in some stupid way that I could stop.”

Unsure of what else to say, Cendan didn’t respond, and they rode on in silence.  Heather kept taking glances at him, which he ignored for the most part.  He could see the growing annoyance on her face each time he didn’t say anything though.  Cendan didn’t know what to say as usual.  People, and women, in general were hard to process for him most of the time.  Though recent experiences had shown him that if enough other things were going on, his social awkwardness seemed to vanish into the background.  But put him here, in a one-on-one situation, and whatever in him that rose to the occasion when things were bad or dangerous, apparently left him totally when riding in a car with a woman he had a highly complicated relationship with.

So in the quiet they rode, Cendan deciding that not saying anything was better than saying the wrong thing, whatever the wrong thing was.  Finally, after a long stretch where the only sound was the tires on the road, they parked near to the Red Orchid.  Cendan half wondered if the entrance had been moved since he’d been gone.  Jasmine would have most likely told him if that was the case, he hoped.

“Before we go in, I want to fill the well back up in my focus.  I honestly don’t know what we are going to find in there.  Add to the fact that I hurt all over, I’m tired, and I’m sick of people trying to kill me, I want to be ready for whatever,” Cendan added, looking around.

Heather nodded, but didn’t say anything back; her face blank.  Cendan sighed to himself.  Maybe not saying anything had been the wrong thing.  Reaching out, Cendan slowly made the pattern to refill the focus, feeling the decidedly different ‘taste’ of the magic here.  Out in the Rivenwood, things had a rough feel, he realized, somewhat random and unsettled.  Here in the city, and by the Bridgefinders lair, the magic had a different feel.  He couldn’t put his finger on it; it just felt, more organized and more predictable.

“You ready?” Heather asked, after some time had passed.  Cendan had been silent, eyes closed.  Slowly nodding, Cendan readied himself.  He’d actually already filled his focus, and had been searching through the saved patterns on the Key, looking for anything that might help him feel better.  There was one that might help, but since he didn’t want to get into finding all the old patterns from Oakheart yet, he wanted to wait until he was alone to actually try it.  And maybe after a good meal, and a really long nap.  His stomach growled at him a bit in protest.

He’d had lunch, but that had been prior to the work on the Bridge and the whole crazy situation with Xid.  At least the lair had a fully stocked kitchen.  As they walked, the half block to the back stairs that led down to the transition point, Cendan wondered how far Jasmine had gotten with Marcus.  The fact that he hadn’t heard anything didn’t mean much. He had been in Rivenwood, not exactly a mecca of cellular phone connections.  However, turning the corner, he saw the car Jasmine had been driving that night when she’d come back with Heather, still parked in exactly the same spot.  It hadn’t moved.  That wasn’t a good sign.

“Should that be there still?” Heather asked, pointing to the vehicle.

“No.  It shouldn’t be.  The fact that is…  I don’t know what it means, but it’s not a good thing,” Cendan answered.

“Gotcha.  Sounds like fun,” she responded in a deadpan way.  He wasn’t sure if she was trying to be funny or not, but the slight attempt at humor did reduce the feeling of stress he was starting to feel.

“Well, at least we won’t get attacked with Magic.  Marcus doesn’t use the stuff.  Is there a pattern to deal with more physical stuff?  I would prefer not to get cold cocked again, and even less so today.  If you didn’t know, I don’t think it’s been a terribly great one.”  Cendan waved his hand towards his body.  “Not really up to snuff.”

Heather laughed again.  The slight tension that had existed since her comment in the car mostly evaporated now in their shared need to find some way to deal with the unknown situation they were about to get into.  The outer door leading down to the transition point was open as well and looked like it hadn’t been closed either in the days that Cendan had been gone.  A small, drying water puddle from a rain storm had formed, and some loose trash had blown in.  Not a good sign either.  Was the way into the lair still even here?