Wizards At War

“But for the time being, you’re okay,” Nita said.

Yes, said the Defender. And I thank you very much for asking. It sounded bemused.

Nita nodded. She looked down from the rise and saw that all the pup-tent accesses were gone now, and Kit and Ponch were standing with Sker’ret and Filif. “Looks like we’re ready,” she said.

Ronan reached out and grasped the Spear. “Let’s go.”

They bounced down to where the others were waiting. Ponch was jumping around, the line of light between him and Kit stretching and shrinking to accommodate him. “Why should you be so nervous?” Sker’ret was saying. “It went just fine the last time.”

“Except that we lost four days getting here,” Kit said. “And that wasn’t nearly as long a jump as this one’s going to be.”

He glanced down at Ponch, whose bouncing went on uninterrupted. It’ll be all right, Ponch said. I know where we’re going. Come on, let’s go!

“Maybe I’m just feeling paranoid today,” Kit said, not quite glancing up at the Pullulus, “but I think we should be in physical contact when we go.” He reached his spare hand out to Filif, who wound a few fronds around it; Sker’ret took hold of some fronds as well from behind Filif, and held a rear handling-claw up.

Nita glanced at Ronan. He shook his head. “I think I’d sooner keep a hand free,” he said, lifting the Spear.

Oh great. I get to hold his hand. Nita swallowed, took Sker’ret’s claw with one of hers, and with the other, took Ronan’s free hand. It was sweating.

She smiled slightly. “All set,” she said to Kit.

Kit looked down at Ponch. “Okay,” he said.

Ponch took a step forward; they all followed, and the gray surface of Metemne vanished behind them.

***

Darkness. For a couple of breaths, that line of light between Ponch and Kit was the only thing Nita could see as they all moved forward together. When she glanced nervously over her shoulder, she couldn’t even see the Spear, though she could still feel Ronan’s hand in hers. There was a surface of some kind under their feet, but Nita couldn’t see it, couldn’t even feel it. The sensation was most peculiar.

“Is it usually like this?” Nita said to Kit—or tried to say. But when she spoke, there was no sound.

Sometimes it is, Kit said silently. Sorry, I should have warned you.

It’s as if there’s no air, Filif said.

I’m not sure there is, Kit said. What’s weird is that whether there is or not, you don’t feel like breathing.

How much longer? Sker’ret said. He sounded somewhat unnerved.

Ponch? Kit said.

Not long.

They kept walking. Nita found herself having to count paces by how her legs moved, since when she put her feet down, she couldn’t really feel anything. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. This is so weird! Fifteen. Sixteen.

The count went past twenty, and still there was nothing but that darkness. Past thirty, and nothing. Nita was having to resist the urge to start singing or whistling, partly because she knew she wouldn’t hear anything, which would just make her feel creepier. And it wouldn’t take much to start imagining the Pullulus infesting this darkness, pressing closer, pushing in—

Nita swallowed and went back to concentrating on counting paces. Forty. Forty-one. Forty-two. Forty-three…

She blinked, not sure whether she was really seeing a dim gleam of light far ahead, or whether she was hallucinating it. No, it’s there, all right, Nita thought. But what is that? The light seemed faintly greenish; as they walked, the green color seemed to get stronger. Fifty. Fifty-one. Fifty-two—

The source of the light quickly grew closer, as if they were moving far faster than a walk. The light began to distinguish itself into shades and patterns; tall dark pillar shapes rose up within it, casting long shadows across the greenness. And then the light swept around them and closed up behind, sealing the darkness outside….

Nita let go of Ronan’s hand, wiping the sweat off against her vest, and stood there gazing up and around her. The dark shapes were huge trees, hundreds of feet high, as broad in the trunk as sequoias, but with broad leaves rather than needles. They towered above the little group, vast branches overhanging the green grass at their feet, and moving shadows from sunlight far above patterned the grass as a slight wind stirred the branches. At the head of the group, Ponch was bouncing up and down excitedly. Kit, looking chagrined, let go of the wizardly leash. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered. “Go on…”