“What if he’s dead, Lucky? What am I going to do?”
Sariana pulled harder on the blade handles. She would not allow herself to even think about that possibility again. Gryph wasn’t dead. She would know if he were dead. That realization gave her comfort and energy. The blades and fins of the river sled sent the small craft skimming over the surface of the sluggish river.
The sled was a model of efficiency, but even so Sariana’s arms ached by mid-morning. She switched to the foot pedals for a while and tried to estimate her progress. The sled was making good headway but the river was flowing more swiftly and powerfully now as the gorge narrowed. She glanced toward shore and wondered if she should tie the sled along the bank and go the rest of the way on foot.
One of the problems was that she didn’t know exactly how far she had to go. She was counting on the odd sixth sense she seemed to have developed to let her know when she was getting close to Gryph. It had always worked best at short range, she reminded herself encouragingly. She had always been so acutely aware of him when he was near.
Absently she fingered the elegant pin on her cloak while she scanned the steep walls of the gorge. The water was definitely getting rough and the sled was slowing rapidly. The shoreline was not particularly inviting with its scrubby vegetation and rocky terrain, but Sariana knew it was time to get out of the sled. She decided she would tie up the craft somewhere around the next bend.
She heard the roar of the rapids a few seconds before she felt the sled begin to buck. Sariana grabbed the blade handles, steering desperately for the shore.
Putting the small craft at an angle to the strong current proved to be a mistake. It heaved once and then the whole right side lifted majestically up out of the water.
“Lucky!”
The lizard was already moving, darting into the safety of one of Sariana’s cloak pockets. Sariana fought for control of the sled as it heaved again in the rough water. But she knew she did not have the expertise to save the boat. It was going to flip over and her biggest fear was getting trapped beneath the sled.
“Hang on,” she muttered to the hapless lizard as she sealed the pocket of her cloak. “And hold your breath if you can.” She bunched up the cloak and tied it around her shoulders so that it was out of the way. Then she grabbed the blade sling Gryph had entrusted to her and leaped out of the sled.
The water was cold, a shock to her system, but she had little time to think about it. Sariana’s main concern was fighting through the rough current to get to shore. It wasn’t that far away, she told herself, and the water wasn’t that deep. She could make it.
But the driving power of the water was a force with which to reckon. It knocked the breath out of Sariana as it flung her carelessly against a boulder. She clung to the rock, gasping for air as she gazed longingly at the shoreline. Right now it seemed a hundred kilometers away. Lucky made anxious noises from deep inside the wet cloak.
Sariana glanced downstream and saw that the river sled had been driven against the bank. It was upside down. She decided that, on the whole, she would rather be where she was than underneath the sled. She sought for handholds on the rock and grimly fought her way out of the water.
Once seated on top of the precarious perch, Sariana ripped open the pocket of her cloak. The scarlet-toe blinked back at her. Lucky was clearly disgruntled but otherwise unhurt.
“Just hang on a little longer while I figure out how to use this gadget Gryph gave us,” Sariana said bracingly to the skeptical looking lizard.
Sariana concentrated, remembering Gryph’s terse instructions. She selected the blade with the thin cord wound around its shaft. Then she notched the blade, cocked the bow and aimed it at the dense foliage around the shoreline. Cautiously she released the tension in the small weapon.
The blade left the bow with a jolt that took Sariana by surprise. She held onto the rock to keep from falling into the raging current. Even as she made a grab for her balance the arrow was thudding into some unseen object in the foliage. The thin line it was trailing went taut in Sariana’s fingers.
Sariana gingerly tested the line. It felt strong and tightly anchored. She pulled a little harder and it went abruptly slack in her hands as the blade dropped out of its target.
“Damn it to the Lightstorm!” Sariana’s temper flared, overcoming her fear. Savagely she jerked at the limp line, pulling it back through the water.
A few minutes later she was holding a lapful of ungainly rope and a blade. She realized she had no idea how to recoil the line and rearm the bow.
“Of all the stupid, idiotic weapons,” Sariana raged. “Dumb westerners and their gadgets. Arrogant Shields and their silly toys. I tell you, Lucky, I’ve about had it with the western provinces. Nothing is simple and straightforward around here. Nothing is logical and dependable. Do you think an easterner would have designed a crazy weapon like this? Or a useless sled that gets tipped over by the first wave it encounters? Never in a million years.” She glared at the line spilling over her wet skirts.
It was a good, strong line. If one ignored the overly clever bow and the useless blade, one was still left holding a strong length of rope.
“I think, Lucky, that the key here is simplicity, not clever gadgetry.” Sariana picked up the end of the rope and reached down to loop it around the rock on which she was sitting. Water splashed over her hands and arms as she worked, but it proved relatively simple to tie a strong knot.
Sariana regarded her work dubiously for a few seconds and then tied a second knot just to be on the safe side.
“Ready Lucky? Don’t feel bad. Neither am I.” She resealed the lizard’s pocket. Then, holding onto one end of the line, she coiled it around herself a couple of times. Cautiously she slipped down the side of the rock into the water.
The rushing river caught her, trying to yank her downstream. It snapped the blade bow from her grasp. Sariana didn’t try to hang on to it. She was too busy clinging to the line she had wrapped around herself. She paid it out slowly and deliberately. It proved stronger than the river. She was able to fight a controlled retreat out of the rough water into a calmer area.
Finally she felt the river’s grip slacken. With renewed energy Sariana waded toward shore. A few minutes later she was sitting on the bank, the blade in her hand.
“I’m afraid that Gryph is just going to have to get another blade bow,” Sariana told Lucky as she tossed aside the useless blade. The line to which it was attached was yanked back into the middle of the river by the force of the current and the blade disappeared into the water.
“Gadgets,” Sariana muttered and started pulling off her soaked clothes.
Lucky scrambled out of the cloak pocket and headed for a nearby sun-warmed rock. Enroute he treated himself to several mouthfuls of leaves. Sariana looked wistfully at the sled which had snagged on the opposite side of the river and wondered if the food in the storage lockers had survived. Given her present position, it didn’t much matter. The wrecked sled might as well have been on the moon for all the good it did her.
Sariana left her chemise to dry on her body, picked up some of her wet garments and started forward, “Enough fun and games, Lucky. We’ve got to keep moving.”
Her chemise dried fairly quickly. By mid-afternoon Sariana’s cloak was also dry. The skirts of her traveling dress took longer, but she was finally able to put it on as the late afternoon shadows filled the gorge. When she was dressed once more she looked down at herself in wry disgust. Everything she had on showed evidence of its recent ordeal in the river. A few things, such as the bodice of the dress, appeared to have shrunk. Ahead of her was the dismal prospect of a night spent alone on shore with none of the recently maligned western gadgets to make herself more comfortable.
She wondered again just how far Gryph could have gotten the day before. The canyon walls loomed over her, rising to eerie heights and leaving very little sky
visible as evening approached. Wearily she lowered herself to a rock and tried to figure out what to do next.
For the first time since she had deliberately compelled Gryph to make love to her, Sariana tried to use the freakish new sense of communication she had discovered within herself.
“It’s probably just like every other western gadget,” she informed the lizard as she sat on the rock and gazed out over the river. “A clever, intriguing toy that’s ultimately useless—especially when you really need it.”
She had just finished uttering the words when the tendril of awareness brushed her mind.
“Gryph!” She knew it was him. She was beginning to recognize the sensations of his mind. Those sensations were as unique and as identifiable to her as his physical features. He was somewhere nearby. She knew it.
Reenergized, Sariana floundered through the underbrush and over the tumbled boulders that lined the river. The roar of the rapids cut off all other sound now. Sariana struggled to hold on to a vague sense of direction she had picked up from the fleeting touch of Gryph’s mind. She followed it blindly, heedless of the oncoming night, the rough terrain and the snagging undergrowth.
A few minutes later she came to a halt, aware that the sense of direction had changed. Gryph was no longer in front of her. She was certain of it. He was above her somewhere.
Sariana tipped back her head and scanned the dark walls of the canyon. He couldn’t be up there, she thought. She must have misread the feeling of direction she had gotten. But he was close. He had to be somewhere near. She was certain of it.
Uneasily, Sariana eyed the boulders that had cascaded down the steep wall in front of her. Perhaps if she climbed higher she could get a clearer impression of where the stray thought had come from.
She was groping for toeholds in the darkness when the booted foot appeared above her on top of the boulder she had been about to climb.
Sariana screamed and jerked backward, nearly losing her balance. Lucky hissed inside the pocket.
“Only a very strongly linked Shieldmate would have come this far in search of her lord,” the stranger said as he bent down and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. With seemingly little effort he pulled Sariana up the side of the boulder and stood her on her feet. Then he flipped on a small vapor lamp, revealing a scarred face. “Chassyn always did have the luck of the day. Until recently, that is. Come with me, Sariana. You are expected.”
“Who are you?” she whispered, tugging her wrist free.
“I am Lord Targyn.” A startlingly formal inclination of the head accompanied the introduction.
“You’re a Shield.” She glanced at the weapon kit hanging on his belt.
“The strongest one of all,” Targyn murmured.
“I’ve always admired modesty. Let actions speak for themselves, I say. No need to brag.” Tension seemed to be having its usual effect. Her ever-nimble tongue was gearing up for battle.
Targyn smiled strangely. “I, too, am a great believer in action. Are you ready?”
“Depends. Where are we going?”
“You have come to search for your lord, have you not?”
“If we’re talking about Gryph, I should tell you I don’t think of him as my lord.”
Targyn frowned. “Chassyn is your husband, isn’t he?”
“Actually, I don’t think of him as either a lord or a husband. I think of him more as being a nuisance. But it’s mutual. I’m sure he thinks of me precisely the same way.”
“Enough of this nonsense. Come with me.”
The scarlet-toe shifted slightly within Sariana’s pocket but made no sound as Sariana bit down on her tongue. She had been around Gryph long enough to know that Shields tended to expect others to obey them.
“Arrogant bastards,” Sariana mumbled as she started walking.
“What did you say?” The Shield moved up silently behind her.
“Nothing,” she assured him. “You know, it’s getting hard to see. Could you hold that vapor lamp steadier? A little professionalism would be appreciated.”
Targyn appeared rather bemused by her display of annoyance. Without a word he moved closer and aimed the vapor lamp more carefully.
“Thank you,” Sariana murmured dryly, then realized she was stepping over the last tumbled rock and into the wide mouth of a cave.
A large vapor lamp flared into life at the back of the cave and a figure moved forward. Sariana recognized the shape and carriage of the man before she saw his face in the glow of the lamp.
“Etion! What are you doing here?”
Rakken smiled his charming smile. “As it happens, I was just about to sit down to dinner. Will you join me?”
Sariana stared at him. “I’m sure you realize, Etion, that I’ve had a number of shocks recently. This is one of the biggest. As it happens, I’m starving. I will gladly join you for dinner under two conditions. The first is that you take me to Gryph. The second is that you promise to give me some explanation about what’s going on here.”
Etion nodded gravely. “Chassyn will be joining us for dinner, so that takes care of condition number one. As for condition number two, I think that can be dealt with also. Targyn? Will you join us?”
Targyn strode into the lamplight, scowling. “I don’t think you should let Chassyn out of that chamber. He’s dangerous.”
“You assured me he was harmless enough as long as he was kept in the twist.”
“That’s true, but I still don’t like having him out in the open.”
“You’ll be there to protect me if he somehow escapes the twist.” Etion spoke soothingly, as if to a fractious child. “There is no doubt that you are the stronger Shield, is there?”
“None.” Targyn lifted his head proudly and strode past Sariana and Rakken. “I’ll get Chassyn.”
Rakken sighed as the other man strode off. “Thickheaded bastard,” he murmured under his breath.
Sariana drew a silent breath of relief. At least Gryph was alive and apparently unharmed if he could take a meal. She would take this one step at a time, feeling her way through the quagmire of events the same way she had felt her way through the House of Reflections.
The first task was to handle Etion Rakken. She couldn’t begin to imagine what he was doing here, but if he had taken Gryph prisoner, it was clear he was on the wrong side in this mess.
“It would appear your journey upriver has been a little rough,” Etion remarked as he graciously extended his arm and led Sariana down a corridor of gray metal. Once inside the corridor there were no vapor lamps. The illumination seemed to come from within the metal walls. Sariana gazed around in wonder as she spoke to Rakken.
“I lost the sled and had to swim to shore. I tell you, Etion, things like this never happened to me when I lived in Rendezvous.”
Etion smiled faintly. “I’m well aware of how unexpected life can be in the west.” He paused in front of an opening carved in the corridor. “My humble chambers await.” He bowed her into the room with a mocking flourish.
Sariana stepped inside and glanced around the odd room. It was a strange shape to her eyes, as if it were all just slightly out of proportion. The ceiling was a little too low for psychological comfort. It was lined with more of the metal she had noticed in the corridor. The glow of the illumination imbedded in the metal seemed vaguely wrong to her eyes. Instead of the soft, warm glow of vapor, it was a harsh light that jangled the senses.
“You get used to it,” Etion said wryly.
“The light? Where does it come from?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I tried to take the ceiling apart a couple of months ago to find out, but I couldn’t cut through that gray metal. The prisma cutter might do it, however. I’ll give it a try one of these days. Sit down.”
Sariana stepped slowly toward a round table that seemed a little too close to the floor.
A bench of the same metal ringed the table. It was contoured in a slightly sloping fashion. When she sat down she felt uncomfortable.
“Etion, what is this place?”
“I wish I knew,” Rakken said quietly as he went to the wall and pushed against it. A panel slid open revealing an assortment of familiar looking wines and ales. “A glass of wine, Sariana?”
“I could use it.” She tried to speak calmly, as if everything that were happening was perfectly routine. Rakken handed her the wine. “Where’s Gryph?”
There was a movement in the open doorway behind her.
“Right behind you,” Gryph announced in a rough voice as he walked slowly and awkwardly into the room. Targyn followed. “I don’t suppose there’s any point asking you why you disobeyed my orders, is there, Sariana?”
“Of course not.” Sariana jumped to her feet and went flying toward him. She stopped when she realized there was something wrong with the way he was standing. His hands were behind his back and he seemed to be having trouble staying on his feet.
“By the Lightstorm, what’s wrong? What have they done to you?” she snapped, circling him to assess the damage.
Rakken chuckled. “Nothing yet. He’s in a twist. Another witty little western invention designed by Shields to use on the bandits they take prisoner.”
Sariana stared at the strange mechanism strapped to Gryph’s waist at the back. Leather straps that appeared to be under extreme tension came from openings in a metal case. The straps were attached to Gryph’s wrists and ankles.
“There’s some give in the straps as long as he moves very slowly and cautiously,” Rakken explained easily. “But if he makes any sudden moves—such as grabbing for my throat—the straps tighten and lock. He’ll wind up flat on his back, possibly breaking an arm in the process. Here’s your wine, my dear. Chassyn? What can I get for you?”