The latticework of cracks finally gave way. The globe of Mirrodin collapsed inward in a colossal implosion, then the mana core exploded. In a conflagration of energy and power never before seen by mortal eyes that lasted no longer than a heartbeat, Mirrodin suddenly ceased to be.
“Glissa?” Lyese said, “What happened? Can you stand?”
Glissa blinked. The flare was over. She shook her head and allowed Lyese to pull her to her feet. “I’m fine.”
“Was this a ‘flare’?” Bruenna asked as she pressed a silver cloth against Glissa’s forehead. The stabbing pain that had preceded the flare disappeared instantly.
“Either that, or I’m losing my mind,” Glissa said. “But this one was strange. I’d seen other worlds before, this seemed-almost like someone was trying to give me advice.”
“Is it good advice?” Bruenna asked.
“I think so,” Glissa said. “Something along the lines of ‘keep doing what you’re doing.’ So right now, that means we help the Kha with his immediate problems, which are also our problems, and somehow we all might come out of this-whatever ‘this’ turns out to be-alive.”
“Makes sense,” Bruenna replied in a tone that indicated the matter was anything but settled, but she wasn’t going to push the point. She eyed the sky and saw the small group of skyhunters who were heading out to meet the mage at the edge of the Mephidross. “It’s time we split up if I’m going to keep my appointment.”
“You’re right,” Glissa said. “Good luck with Geth. Don’t trust him. Not even a little bit. And protect your neck at all times.”
“I can take care of myself,” Bruenna said. “And what I can’t take care of, the leonin will,” she added, nodding at the approaching riders.
“I’m sure of it,” Glissa said, though she was anything but. The flare had shaken her, but she still wasn’t sure why. The Mirrodin she had watched die had no green moon. The Mirrodin she lived on did and so far hadn’t imploded. What kind of message was that? ‘Stay the course’ had been her best guess for the others’ sake but Glissa knew that was an evasion.
Fortunately, she would have plenty of time to mull the matter over on the long ride out to the leveler cave, where they would hopefully find the Krark. “Okay, Lyese, you’re with me. Let’s go find some goblins. And remind me not to stare straight into the green moon.”
Glissa bit off a strip of dried djeeruk meat and handed the rest to Lyese. She wasn’t that hungry, and the thought of coming to Dwugget as a leonin ambassador-to say nothing of the residual effects of the powerful flare-already had blinkmoths fluttering chaotically in her abdomen. It wasn’t unlike the way she used to feel those rare times she and Kane been free of duties and studies long enough to enjoy each other’s company. Except Kane had never put her off her food.
Maybe that’s why I wanted Bruenna to do this, she thought. She’s a leader. Leaders negotiated. Negotiation was not Glissa’s style. Glissa liked problems that could be solved with a sword, or in exceptional cases, a construct-flattening explosion of magic. Still, they needed information to stop Memnarch, and the Krark seemed to know more about the inner world than anyone else on the surface, except perhaps the trolls and the vedalken. That the leonin might receive aid from the goblin cultists against the nim was secondary to Glissa, though ostensibly the main reason the Kha had sent them on this mission.
They had reined their zauks to a trot so they could eat while moving, giving the elf girl a chance to really take in the landscape of the Oxidda foothills. Their surefooted mounts easily navigated a collision of rocky outcroppings, flat, ferrous mesas, and corroded iron boulders. Here and there, magnetic energy held similar boulders floating above the ground, adding an air of unreality to the landscape.
The tall, rustling razor grass of the plains was gradually giving way to hardier varieties, and clusters of silvery scrub became thicker, rustier, and more frequent the farther they went. Corroded gullies cracked the dusky ochre ground, but the zauks easily cleared them with one step even at this pace. Glissa patted the bird on the neck, and it cawed affectionately. Or hungrily. Or angrily. The elf girl really wasn’t sure.
Glissa slipped the seeksphere from a pouch on her belt and held it up to inspect the fine markings. The silver ball was no bigger than a goblin’s eye and bore tiny notches and symbols that remained fixed in position no matter which way she turned the object. Shonahn had shown her how to enchant the seeksphere to home in on a single individual, but Glissa had been called on to perform the spell herself, which consisted of simply saying the name of the person you were searching for three times while holding the ball close to one’s lips. The trick was that only someone who had seen that person could activate the device. Bruenna had one too, also enchanted by Glissa, to find Geth.
Despite Shonahn’s assurances that the seeksphere was such a simple artifact that it was virtually impossible to fool, Glissa was beginning to suspect the gadget was broken. At first, they’d seemed to be going in the right direction, but they’d veered off into the rocky foothills and now it seemed as if they were headed straight into the mountain caves ruled by the despotic goblin shaman and his fanatic followers.
“Lyese, this can’t be right,” Glissa said, waving her sister to a halt. She shook the seeksphere with frustration, but it still pointed straight into the iron peaks. “The Krark were not this far into the mountains. And the goblins that do live in the mountains aren’t friendly with the Krark or anyone else.”
“You’ve been through a lot,” Lyese said with a game attempt at maturity. “Okay, maybe that’s an understatement. But is it possible your memory might be, I don’t know, a little knocked out of alignment?”
“Don’t be-” Glissa began, but the suggestion gave her pause. Who knew what toll the last few weeks had taken on her mind? What had the flares done to her sense of self? For that matter, what had the frequent loss of blood done to her brain? “You could be right, I guess. Or maybe they just left. Or maybe … damn.”
“What?” Lyese asked.
“Or maybe I’m overlooking the obvious answer-they’ve been taken by the shaman’s followers. The mountain goblins might have attacked Dwugget’s people just out of spite.”
“You think they’re captured?”
“It’s the most logical conclusion,” Glissa replied. She cast her eyes back over the foothills to the open plains. “Those leonin had better show up soon.”
“Why?” Lyese asked.
“Because this just turned into a rescue.” She patted her saddle to reassure herself that her bow and quicksliver arrows were close at hand. “I’ll go without the leonin if I have to. You can stay here and let them know where I’ve gone.”
“No way!” Lyese objected. “I can fight just as well-okay, maybe not just as well as you, but I am Tel-Jilad Chosen, you know.”
Glissa turned her mount around to look her sister in the eye, and came face-to-face once more with the mutilation and injury Lyese had suffered. She was young, yes, but no younger than Glissa had been when she bagged her first djeeruk. And she was fairly certain that Lyese, young as she was to Glissa’s eyes, was much older than Slobad or Bruenna in actual years. What right did she have to keep her sister away from a fight? None, she knew. It was entirely selfish. She just couldn’t stand to put her sister in danger again. It wasn’t fair, but it was true.
With effort, she buried the impulse.
“Okay,” Glissa said grudgingly, “but don’t get out of my sight.”
“Touching,” a gravelly voice said. “We’ll make sure to lock you up in the same cell.” Glissa whirled and scanned the area, trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. She needn’t have bothered. In a flurry of movement, over a dozen armored, thuggish-looking goblins rose from the scattered scrub brush. Most had shortbows trained on the elves, while some brandished wicked hooked spears that Glissa knew were as deadly at a distance as they were in close combat.