Chapter 14

14.

         Valreck scooped up a handful of the desert sand and let the grains slowly sift through his fingers. Glancing up at the assembly gathered near him, he said, “I’d like to thank you all for coming. I understand that this was done on somewhat short notice. But, I assure you, it’s very necessary.” Standing up, he brushed the remnants of sand from his palms with a quick motion, adjusting his deep blue robes as he moved toward his glass chair, which gleamed brightly in the strong sunlight.
         “Come on, is there really even a need for this?” Tolin asked, crouching at the edge of the small lake, his hands sculpting jagged geometric shapes from the water. The pool of clear blue water lay at the center of the small oasis, its surface otherwise undisturbed except for the occasional cool breeze that drifted through, rustling the branches of the broad-leafed trees that ringed the area, forming shadows not unlike giant hands. One lay across Tolin’s face, darkening his features. “I think everyone knows what’s going on. If they don’t then they’ve been in a coma, as far as I’m concerned.” Shaking the water from his hand, he dried his palms off on his plain workman’s pants, although when he moved the fabric crinkled like it was new. His white shirt seemed to shine in the brilliant sunshine. His eyes flickered to the others, his face severe, his mouth a tight, thin line, as if daring them to answer.
         Rathas, balanced expertly on the balls of his feet on his broad couch directly across from Tolin, replied, “I quite agree with dear Tolin. Why, you might say that anyone still oblivious to the recent happenings must have just crawled out from under something heavy. Right?” His smirk was directed at Tolin, who flushed.
         “Bastard, I told you-“ he half-snarled, as the lake suddenly bubbled and a dragon’s head formed of water burst out of the pool, its mouth opening wide and reaching for Rathas, the rippling shadows of the teeth bisecting the man.
         “Enough!” Valreck shouted, just as the dragon shape suddenly shuddered and exploded, showering fat droplets of water all over everything. Everyone stayed dry. “Tolin, leave your bruised ego somewhere else for the moment. You’ll get no sympathy from any of us, nor will I allow you to use this as a forum to enact whatever sort of petty revenge you have in mind. Am I understood?” he barked. Then, spinning on Rathas, he said, “And by all the gods, Rathas, the second sentence out of your mouth and already you dispense with the veiled insults-“
         The small man kicked his legs out and fell lengthwise onto the couch, bouncing a little as he faced Valreck. “Veiled? Ah, Valreck, I am clear as glass.” His brightly colored garb seemed to be constantly shifting, falling into garishly clashing patterns as much as it had moments of harmony. “I think you misrepresent me.”
         The woman sitting between Valreck and Rathas sniffed, “Even glass can become fogged in the calmest of weather.” Her lithe form was curled up on a raised cushion of sorts, although her movements barely seemed to disturb the fabric. Ever so often she looked about to fade out completely, but that might have been the effect of her soft grey clothing, which made her seem part of the cushion. For some reason it helped her blend into the background, no matter what the color was. Pointing a slim hand at Rathas, she said, “Even your plainest words hide knives. You don’t fool anyone.”
         “Perhaps,” Rathas smiled thinly. “But with me, at least you know what you’re getting.” Rolling onto his side, he put an arm out, indicating the lake, “Besides, there was nothing wrong with Tolin’s little pet. It certainly improved the view. There was no need to rid us of it, Valreck.”
         “He didn’t,” an aged voice said to Rathas’ left. “I did.” Adjusting a blanket that lay over her legs as she sat in her usual chair, Maleth gave Rathas a mock toast with her teacup and said, “As you yourself often remind me, I am old and don’t have time for nonsense. Especially coming from you. Keep it up, and the next illusion I disrupt may play a bit closer to home, Rathas.” Her thin lips smiled pleasantly at the man.
         Rathas returned the smile with a tight one of his own. “As you say,” he said simply. He flipped his legs over and agilely landed on the arm of the couch, away from Maleth, balancing delicately, his back against the edge.
         “So,” he said, putting his hands together and looking out on everyone with his wide eyes like nothing had happened, “shall we fill in those who are coming in late?”
         Valreck took a deep breath, settling in his chair. His chair acted like a prism, refracting the sunlight into its components, splattering the spectrum all over the surface of the water. He found the effect rather soothing. “Yesterday,” he began, his gaze dancing from person to person with a quietly nervous energy, “we had a visit from what we suspected, and I think have since confirmed . . .” this with a nod toward Rathas, who otherwise kept his expression motionless, “. . . was the Time Patrol.”
         Part of him tensed, expecting an explosion of reactions, of shock and fear and paranoia and disbelief. Other than a raised eyebrow from the woman on his left, the others stayed where they were. Which Valreck knew would be the case, by this point the Time Patrol’s presence was no huge secret and whatever awe and surprise the mere mention of the name elicited had since been dissipated as the day had wore on.
         Maleth took another sip from her tea cup and then set it upon the empty air, where it hovered sedately. “I won’t ask how you confirmed it, since I suspect there’s only one way to truly do so,” the old woman said, “but it is interesting news.” Valreck noticed that her wavery reflection in the water seemed to be of a much younger person. Perhaps it was a trick of the light. “I wonder what possible reason they would have to come seek us out here? I doubt it was to get our opinions on current events, now, hm?” Her gaze settled on Valreck all too calmly, her milky eyes probing with feathers that he knew concealed daggers.
         “We assumed initially that whatever purpose they had here wasn’t for our benefit,” Valreck replied carefully, picking his words with the sense that if he choose the wrong one, it might explode in his face. “We know little about the Time Patrol, but we know that it’s a military force. It felt safe to conclude that they were not here on a sightseeing mission.” He wished he could inject more offhand humor into his voice, but there was no masking in this venue. It would have been laughably obvious, even under ideal circumstances.
         “They were certainly armed,” Tolin interjected, sitting crosslegged on his chair, elbows resting on his knees, and his hands supporting his face. A gentle wind discretely rustled his hair.
         “No doubt they were,” the other woman said. “But Maleth does raise an interesting point, one I’d like to add to.” In one hand she swirled a glass of ice water that had appeared there. “By all reports there were only . . . what? seven of them who were discovered?” She looked to Maleth for confirmation, which the old woman gladly gave.
         “That we know of,” Tolin said, somewhat tersely.
         “Yes, yes,” the woman said with borderline condescension. “But assuming that what we saw is what was sent . . .” she spread her hands, the glass fading out, “it makes no sense. If they sought to capture us, then I doubt we would be here having a discussion about it, we would either be in their custody . . . or dead.” A grim smile touched her lips, directed at no one in particular.
         Valreck felt a need to interrupt, useless though it might be. He could already see where this was going. Threads hummed invisible in the air, spun by a million hyperactive mad spiders, but even with an infinite amount of choices, sometimes there was really only one path. “However, if they didn’t know where we were-“
         ”Then it seems unlikely that they would send a mere seven soldiers to brazenly waltz up the road like it was a morning stroll.” Her voice was disarmingly vicious. “Remember how Kilun was taken? He stepped into his tent and was never seen again.”
         Valreck inwardly winced, feeling sadness stab through him. Junyul had brought that up deliberately, he was sure. Kilun had been a friend, a witty, dryly calm sea of sanity in the barely contained madness that always seemed ready to spin out of control around them. His disappearance had been unexpected and sudden, seemingly unnoticed by all except for him. Coming as his uncertainty with the cause was beginning to develop, it was probably the main impetus that drove him to leave, even if he hadn’t realized it at the time. There had been so many reasons, in the end. Choosing one was a perverse form of favoritism.
         “Perhaps he was recruited,” Rathas said archly, the gaudy splotches on his clothes looking not unlike a warped face. “It would be ironic, no?”
         “Indeed,” Junyul said dryly, traces of her old accent curling and wilting the word. “But why not send only one person, a spy, to ferret out information about us . . . and then, when the moment is deemed to be right . . .” her eyes looked coldly out on the assembly, although her face contained a certain odd glee, “bang!” and she clapped her hands together in a swift motion, creating a mild thunderclap that sent everyone an inch back in their seats. “We are taken, just like that,” she finished. Valreck even thought he spotted a small puff of smoke wafting from her palms. How ostentatious, he thought, with a small grimace. What heights we won’t stoop to in the name of authenticity.
         “They were Time Patrol,” Valreck stated flatly. “That much we’re certain of.”
         “But I’m not debating that,” Junyul replied sweetly, her fingernails briefly flashing like claws in the light. Even her shadow seemed sharp and jagged, broken glass burnt in the sun. “All I am saying is that unless everything we have heard is grossly exaggerated, the Time Patrol is nothing if not efficient. That’s how they’ve lasted so long as an organization. An attack from them would have been executed with precise force and had us immediately neutralized. That, as our continued freedom can attest, was not the case. So,” and settling back, her chair seeming to engulf her, Junyul absently opened a tear in the cushion and lazily pulled a plump fruit out of it, “that leaves the question which I think needs to be asked. Why else could they have been here, if not for us? Has anyone considered that?”
         “Of course it was considered,” Valreck answered icily. “But we thought it best to err on the side of caution. I do not think that was unwise.”
         “Not at all,” Maleth agreed, nodding sagely. Valreck braced himself for the backhand. “Close observation was the best course of action, until we were able to discern the reason for their presence.” She was all too reasonable. “I was not able to tell, but I understand someone was sent who was in a position to discover such information.” Her tiny and withered lips twitched into a barely disguised smile as she turned to face Tolin. “And so, my dear boy, what did you find? You’ve been quiet this whole debate, perhaps you can shed some light on this dreadful subject.”
         Tolin made a face as if swallowing something unpleasant, but a second later answered in a near pleasant tone, “I was able to determine that they were Time Patrol.” Looking at the others for backup, he added, “I thought that was significant, since we were unsure.”
         “And indeed it is,” Maleth said, wagging a finger in the air. Her smile was a blast of sand thrown in your eyes. “And were you able to find out anything else?”
         “No.” Tolin refused to meet her gaze.
         “Oh?” Maleth asked, stretching the syllable out sadistically, her lips forming an “o” of surprise. “And why is that? Did something happen to you? Were you in danger? I hope not.” Her concern was liquid and opaque, the pale surface concealing a more caustic concoction underneath.
         “They were killed,” Tolin replied tightly.
         “So quickly?” Maleth inquired, her words a knife darting in and out of Tolin’s defenses. Tolin somehow kept his composure in the face of this, but a wind that sprang up near him rattled the leaves on the palm tree above him with a sound like tumbling bones. “Why, they had barely been here three hours.”
         “It must have been an accident,” Junyul said, smiling placidly. “How unlucky of them.” The pool rippled with tiny waves, making a tinkling sound not unlike laughter.
         “Well, it was the type of mistake you make only once,” Rathas said, laughing briefly. His eyes swept from one woman to the other, before meeting Valreck’s even gaze. His mockery was meant to defuse, perhaps, though what this was building toward Valreck could not see. Part of him wished to step in and end this nonsense immediately, but the other part warned him to sit back and let it unfold. Maybe in their zeal they would show cards they had not meant to reveal. Kilun had said as much to him. If one wishes to actively gain, there must first be loss. The rule of the Universe. In a closed system there must always be an exchange. However, the passive observer may spend only time and thus the gain may turn out to be much greater than otherwise assumed. Or that was the illusion at least. Kilun had harbored no ideals that he was somehow cheating the system. There has to be a balance, he said to Valreck, one night over a crackling fire, the wind perhaps mingling with the faint cries of a girl who might have shown them all the way. And the Universe is patient. To collect in full, it will wait. It will.
         “They saw me,” Tolin snapped, the vitriol of his words not having an appreciable effect on anyone present. “They saw me and I had to kill them. Or else they would have known for sure and we’d all be dead. All of you, any of you in the same position as me, you would have done the same thing . . .” his gaze swept out like steel wire, looking for the slightest sign of dissent. At his feet little sand men struggled and fought, bashing each other back to their components.
         “Well maybe not quite the same thing,” Rathas said smoothly, his smile clear and oily. “But Tolin here does make a valid point . . . there really was no easy way out of it. Once they’d spotted him . . . if he didn’t confront them right then, we’d have to worry about them continuing to poke around. And if not then, some other time perhaps. They may or may not have been searching for us, per se, but the Time Patrol has a reputation, probably deserved, for being gloriously tenacious and it no doubt was only a matter of, if you’ll excuse the expression, time . . .”
         “We may not have been a primary target,” Valreck said, feeling the need to refocus the discussion before it spun wildly out of his control, “but they wouldn’t have gone away and ignored us. I think we can all agree on that.”
         “I can agree,” Maleth said, “but I still think it’s been terribly botched . . .” The timbre of her voice never wavered, she could have been describing what she had for breakfast the day before. “Not only have you broadcast our presence in a not too shy fashion to the Time Patrol, but by trying to eliminate their threat with an equal lack of subtlety, we’ve no doubt all earned a visit in our rooms in the middle of the night.” She coughed slightly, covering her mouth with her hand, but Valreck knew it was all for show. “I said to hide,” her voice leaving a dagger-like wake in the air, causing his chair to vibrate subsonically. “What was so difficult about that, Valreck?” Her shrunken body appeared so much larger against a sudden glare. “What part of keep your head down and stay the hell out of their way were you unable to understand?” She was trying to shout but Valreck made sure all he could hear was a faint whisper. He had expected this.
         “It wouldn’t have mattered,” Tolin suddenly blurted out.
         “What?” Maleth asked, her gaze seeming to kick up the sand along the line of her sight. “What are you talking about?”
         “What my friend is trying to say . . .” Rathas interjected sweetly, “is that in the excitement of retelling his story, he inadvertantly left something out.”
         “Secrets, Tolin?” Junyul murmured, balancing the stem of a flower on her fingertip. She shifted her hand and caught the plant in her palm, which it disappeared into. “And here I was thinking you were so . . . open.”
         “They had someone there who . . . like us,” Tolin stated, regaining more of his confidence. Maleth said nothing, merely glared at him, though Valreck could feel the tendrils of her displeasure washing over him as well. Let her seethe, he thought severely, she would rather cover her body and cower in the dirt. Soon enough she will be.
         “You mean . . . aggressive and delusional?” Junyul asked with a smirk.
         “Not like him,” Rathas laughed, though he glanced at Tolin first to gauge the man’s reaction. A sand-man was beating the head of another against the chair, a barbarian’s parody dealt out in miniature. Tolin’s face was deliberately expressionless, a mask so fine the seams might not even exist. “You know, with our abilities. What’s the word so in vogue these days . . . oh that’s right . . .” he snapped his fingers, his shirt flared and darkened, “mindbenders.” The word seemed spat particularly at the old woman, who merely pulled a tea cup out of the air and sipped placidly, her eyes blinking a quiet challenge.
         “She saw me,” Tolin added, head pivoting from left to right like some bored lizard. “She saw me and told them and then pulled me out of invisibility halfway through the fight.”
         “Well then,” Junyul sighed, “this makes matters vastly more complicated.” She lifted her palm and the sand parted to expel a plate of glistening fruit. The revelation didn’t appear to bother her all that much and Valreck wondered if she already had known. So much of what they did was for show. If all the barriers came down Valreck didn’t doubt he’d find himself sharing the room with four strangers.
         “Not necessarily,” Maleth disagreed. “It depends on what happened to this new wrinkle. Since Tolin was being so efficient, I assume he was able to eliminate her in some fashion. Then we’d have no reason to worry, right?” The sweet sarcasm struck Tolin like a chilled wind, causing his mouth to tighten in a thin line and his back to stiffen.
         “Yes and no,” he admitted after a moment.
         “Well, you get points for creativity,” Junyul mocked lightly, tossing a piece of fruit casually in his direction.
         Tolin caught it automatically, only to look at his hand and find that it had become a large black beetle. Curling his lip in disgust, he closed his hand around it, causing a faint crack and a clear fluid to trickle of his clenched fist. When he opened his hand again, it was empty.
         “I managed to wound her,” he told the rest, “but in the confusion she managed to escape.” Quickly he added, “I’m tracking her now by her trail of blood, it should only be a matter of time before I find her. Probably by the end of today.”
         “If she hasn’t left the planet,” Junyul pointed out skeptically. “And called for reinforcements.”
         “She’s still in the forest,” Rathas said suddenly. Both Valreck and Tolin gave him a sharp look, which Rathas returned with a quietly smug stare. To Tolin, he said, “I told you that I would help.”
         “Then where is she?” Tolin demanded. The water bubbled again. “Don’t let this be one of your games again, Rathas . . .”
         “In the forest,” the other man said again, unperturbed. “I don’t know where, you know I can’t tell location in those circumstances,” his answer was almost tiredly petulant, as if this was a well worn point gone over one too many times. “Especially when you consider what I have to work with. But I don’t think it was all that far from where you last saw her.”
         “And when was this?” Valreck asked, wishing Rathas didn’t enjoy springing these surprises on them with such regularity. He had known about the girl from Tolin, although the admission had taken some digging. But Rathas had made no mention of going after her. He was again struck with the image of trying to control four wild animals, all tied to him, all straining to run in different directions, with the effort a visceral tear he felt right across the center of his brain. In a past not distant enough, a dry voice said with barely suppressed glee, And we shall all have our roles and it will be clear and it will be all that is expected of us, and in the end, it will be nothing that we are incapable of doing. The voice shivered over the gap, leeching from buried ditches in his mind, dense vapors clogging overrun pathways. No, you were wrong, Mandras, Valreck thought harshly, with the old twinge of regret, it was not that way and it will never be that way. When you limit a man into a box, then you destroy the man, or make him into something less.
         “Last night,” Rathas answered, his clothes falling into a pristine white hue. Nobody was fooled. “She was still running around the forest, bumping into trees and tripping over stuff in the dark. The show was quite amusing, I have to say.” He didn’t laugh.
         “She was still alive, then,” Tolin asked, his voice utterly neutral, a question veiled in his inquiry. Even Valreck could hear the nested statements inherent, although the meaning was hidden to him. He thought of Mandras again, promising them a world closed to nothing, where knowledge was a given and not a quest. Men and women will know everything there is to know about one another, because secrets will be eliminated, erased as all the doors are thrown open, all the prisms and barriers and distortions made clear. We will know our place, the voice said, slithering along old knotted trails, and it will come as no surprise, because it could not have been any other way.
         “She was,” Rathas said, meeting Tolin’s gaze directly. “But I don’t think you have anything to worry about. You won’t find her much different from how you left her.”
         Tolin let out a faint sigh, noticeably to Valreck only because he was actively staring at the man, waiting for just that sort of reaction. It hadn’t been the answer Tolin had been expecting. Why? His relief was palpable. What had he been afraid of? But he dared not ask here. It would leave him open on too many fronts. He and Rathas would discuss this later, if he could find the man. His whereabouts were becoming harder and harder to pin down lately.
         “Good, then she’s still alive . . .” Tolin replied, his voice flat. Two sand-men hugged in the shadows of his chair. A twitch from his foot might send them flying apart, broken. There is no force as capricious as fate, Mandras railed, and that is why it must be brought into line. That is what we will do. That is what we have done.
         No, Valreck replied silently to a man who could no longer hear him, if he ever did. No, you didn’t. You fool, you never could. I wonder what it took for you to finally see.
         “. . . she’ll be easier to get information out of than the Time Patrol soldiers . . .”
         I only hope, he thought, that they were easy on you, in the end. On all of you.
         “You hope,” Junyul said pointedly, while Rathas merely smirked, clearly trying to hide the expression.
         “Something is always better than nothing,” Tolin said dryly. “Unless you’ve discovered how to wring beads of information from a stone.”
         “Not as of yet . . . but give me time,” the woman replied in a lazy fashion, a fingernail idly drawing an old pattern on the cushion of her chair. The marks flared briefly and then turned black, like scars. Her half-closed eyes flickered up to Tolin. “You can waste all your energy squeezing the stone when instead all you might need to do is . . . break it . . .” she gestured and a little man at Tolin’s feet fell apart in a small explosion of sand. The other sand-man put stubby hands to its head and pantomimed crying. “. . . and collect what seeps out.”
         “Good luck, dear,” Maleth said, her voice revealing neither condemnation nor encouragement. In her fingers a net was slowly taking shape, her hands deftly knitting the fabric.
         “Is he awake yet?” Valreck asked Junyul, determined to steer the conversation as best he could. Nobody wishes to lead, but nobody wants to follow either. The only reason they acknowledge my leadership is because it makes it easier to blame someone.
         “Not that I can tell,” she told him, boredom badly disguising a pointed interest in their prisoner. Her body seemed to fade out again, becoming transparent. “He’s been in a sort of coma since you gave him to me . . .” she leaned toward him, “which reminds me, don’t you want to put him somewhere more secure? I can’t stick around all the time to watch him and I can’t trust anyone else.”
         “I can take responsibility for him,” Valreck said. “When you get a chance, bring him to my home, I can make accommodations for him there.” Taking a deep breath, he said to Tolin, “And you have taken care of the other soldiers?”
         “They shouldn’t be going anywhere for the near future,” was all Tolin said. A wild, schizoid flicker of colors across Rathas’ tunic added weight to the statement. Valreck could only imagine what measures the man had taken. He had never claimed to enjoy his work, but it didn’t stop him from giving well over a hundred percent. I like to think I’m doing this for the right reasons, Tolin had told him once, as they watched the graves being dug. It’s the one thing I’m good at.
         “Then we need someone to watch that area until we come up with something more permanent,” Valreck said. “Maleth, I imagine you have someone you can send . . .”
         “Perhaps,” the old woman replied, not looking up from her knitting. The net was very wide now, and growing. “Am I expected to keep a constant watch . . .”
         Valreck frowned, thinking. “I don’t think so . . . just tell your person to look for anything suspicious and you can just check in every so often to ensure nothing odd has happened.”
         “Then what?” Junyul asked. “We can’t keep them there forever. Eventually someone will try and find them . . . and when they do . . .” her words created brief heavy bubbles in the air, laden with the import of her implications. They popped without incident, showering the assembly with a brief, greasy rain.
         “We are not capable of starting a fight with the Time Patrol,” Maleth said darkly, looking through the net. Folding it neatly and placing it in her lap, she added, “We’ll be destroyed before we even know what is happening.”
         “Such pessimism,” Rathas remarked, shaking his head in mock criticism. “I thought only optimists lived to your age?”
         “Neither do,” Maleth replied. “I’m a realist, that’s why I’m still here.”
         “Then we have to convince our prisoner that we mean no harm,” Valreck said, “and hope he will keep the Time Patrol from our throats.” Frowning again, he said to Tolin, “In fact, it may be wise to render the other soldiers captive as well. If we treat them all with care, perhaps they’ll be lenient.”
         “Remember what I said about optimists,” Maleth warned, her fingers curling the net around her hands. The fabric had turned to a dried rust color. “They won’t be inclined to calmly discuss things with us over cake and tea.”
         “Yes . . .” Valreck murmured, his mind spinning with the options, trying to find one that fit the problem, discovering that to make the choices work, he had to widen the hole they fit in. Sometimes the puzzle truly had no solution. He looked down, leaning his chin on his hands, eyes narrowed in thought.
         “We should get as much information as we can out of the prisoner,” Rathas said from somewhere far away. “This way, if it goes bad, if something happens . . . it may give us an edge.”
         “Yes,” Valreck said, lifting his head abruptly to stare at everyone else. He was vaguely surprised to see them all still there. “Junyul, bring him to me as soon as you can. Rathas or anyone else who is available is free to join me. Otherwise try to stay as spread out as you can. Tolin, try to find that girl before anything permanent happens to her. Maybe we can use her as leverage as well, if necessary. Everyone, keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary, no matter how strange and try to keep the rest up to date. The less false information and guessing we have floating around, the better prepared we’ll be.” Valreck felt a chill run through him. This is the thing he had always tried to avoid. This was why he left. It always balances, a ghost gone too soon whispered to him. It may take time, but it always does.
         Junyul made a soft noise, which Valreck took as assent. No argument? That was rare. Perhaps it was his more commanding tone, he thought wryly. A sudden thought occurred to him, and turning to the woman, he asked, “Would it be easier for me to come to you-“
         He stopped.
         Junyul was staring at nothing, her eyes glassy voids in her pale face. Absently she touched her cheek and her hand passed completely through. Valreck felt the chill again.
         “Junyul!” Valreck called out, reaching over to shake her, stopping just short of touching her. What was going on? Rathas was already beginning to get up, his attire blurring into colors Valreck had no name for. “Answer me!”
         “What . . . oh . . .” she roused herself, as if numb and looked at Valreck without seeing him. “I’m just fine, sorry, I . . . for a second . . . I . . . hey . . .”
         She flinched back from nothing violently, burying her face in the cushion. When she looked up again, blood was running from her mouth. “Dammit, what . . . what . . .” she said, picking herself up.
         Tolin was standing now, and Rathas had taken two steps toward the cushion, his face suddenly worried. It was all happening so slowly. Detached, Valreck wanted to watch a drop of water fall, to see it twist and turn freely in its endlessly stretched out descent.
         “Who . . .” Junyul said quietly, looking behind her. Then her face twisted in pain and she shouted, “What are you . . .”
         With a burst of prismatic light, she blinked out completely.
         Rathas reached the cushion just in time to see it fall apart into a pile of sand at his feet.
         Around Valreck the world blurred and shifted, falling down in tatters. Not knowing if anyone would hear, he cried, “Whoever is closest, get there fast! Find out what’s going on!” As he spoke, Rathas turned to him with wide eyes and then fell apart in pieces, disintegrating with the rest of the background.
         The last thing Valreck clearly saw was Maleth, holding up her net as if admiring the superb craftsmanship that must have gone into it.
         Then his home whipped abruptly back into focus, spiraling into his vision, replacing the desert scene. Shuddering briefly, Valreck shook his head, putting his hands on his knees to suppress another shiver, shifting his body in the chair to let the blood flow back into his legs.
         Standing up smoothly, heart pounding, he crossed quickly over to his window. The bright day greeted him without incident, the sunlight gently warming his hands where he placed them on the sill.
         The world outside appeared no different. Valreck wondered how true that really was.
         Is this the beginning? he wondered, closing his eyes and resting his head on the window, feeling suddenly tired. Is this truly, how it begins? Faint sounds vibrated through the glass, ghosts twice removed screaming messages he’d never understand.
         I don’t know, he thought. It may have finally begun.
         Outloud, he said to no one at all, “What do I do?”
         Or, it may already be over.