Gallen put an arm around Maggie’s shoulder and whispered, “Lie low and make your way home in the morning,” then tapped Orick on the muzzle, stood up and leapt over the log quietly and began running downhill on the soft humus, letting the pine needles cushion the sound. Orick leapt over the log and ran beside him, glancing at Gallen fearfully. Gallen poured on the speed, thinking, by God, they won’t see my heels for the dust.
But at that moment, the dronon lifted its head and hissed, making some spitting noise. Gallen had been running up behind the creature, but now he saw that it had a clump of eyes on the back of its head. The dronon pulled out its incendiary gun, but Gallen was too close for the creature to use it.
Gallen whipped out his knives, screaming, “Hold or you die!” and the ogres were so stricken with surprise that they scuttled backward a step.
Gallen was almost to the arch, and he snatched the pouch in one smooth move.
Fast as a striking serpent, one of the ogres grabbed Gallen’s wrist, spinning him around. Gallen concentrated on holding onto the key as he slashed the giant’s corded wrist. Huge gobbets of blood shot out, drenching Gallen’s hand, but the giant held on. Gallen slashed again, jerked backward, and fell to the ground, still holding the key.
He looked up. All three vanquishers had recovered from their surprise. In unison they lunged.
A piercing shriek rose behind them. They halted for half a second, and Maggie rushed between one ogre’s legs. Gallen felt Orick’s teeth biting into his collar as the bear tried to drag him under the arch.
Gallen scrabbled to his feet enough to kick backward a step, faintly aware of the ghostly lavender light radiating from the arch.
Orick roared in fear and Gallen kicked again and Maggie was with them, dragging Gallen backward. He saw the giants’ faces twist in rage, yet suddenly Gallen was swept away through a cold, brilliant light.
Chapter 6
When Gallen and Orick took off down the hill toward the vanquishers, Maggie had felt a thrill of fear as she realized they planned to leave her. She buried her face in the dirt, trying to make herself as small as possible, then heard Gallen’s shout.
Below her in the woods, she saw the green and blue lights of wights rushing uphill toward her, and she realized she was in the thick of it.
Her fear suddenly turned to anger. She got up, saw Gallen and Orick struggling to get the bag with the key from a vanquisher. She rushed down the hill, screaming, and bowled into Gallen and Orick, pushing them through the gate.
An icy white light took her, and she had a strange sensation of gliding, as if she were a leaf fluttering through the wind.
Maggie fell back and hit the ground rolling, tumbling against Orick’s warm fur. Gallen landed on top of her. She was furious, wanted to hit someone. Maggie shouted, “Gallen O’Day, you …” Then she just sat and stared, her mouth open in wonder.
They sat in a meadow surrounded by a lush forest, thick with undergrowth. It felt like summer. A warm evening breeze rushed across her back, ruffling her hair, and in the distance a tiny oblong lavender moon hung on the horizon behind a swirl of clouds.
There was no sign of a gate from this side. Maggie looked around, just to be sure. All around them, broad-leaved trees whispered and rippled in waves under the wind. Locusts sang in the darkness. Overhead was a sky filled with more stars than Maggie had ever imagined.
Gallen got up, folded his arms and stood staring. “What?” he asked, absently. Orick sniffed the air.
“Gallen, is your head filled with nothing but blubber?” Maggie shouted. “You’ve done it to us bad! I don’t like the looks of this place.”
“Fale,” Gallen whispered under his breath. “The vanquishers called it Fale.”
Suddenly, carried on the wind, there were screeching sounds from above. A flock of white birds hurtled overhead in the twilight, creaking like rusty hinges, some diving into the trees as if to catch insects in the air. The birds passed.
Gallen put his hand to his mouth and shouted, “Everynne? Veriasse?” He stood waiting for an answer. None came.
“I can’t smell them,” Orick grumbled, standing on his hind legs to sniff at the wind. “Not even the faintest trace of a scent. They didn’t come out here.”
“What?” Maggie asked. “They had to come out here. They came through not five minutes ago!”
“Maybe,” Gallen wondered aloud, “it’s not like a gate so much as a hallway. Maybe it branches. Leading to different places. Everynne called it a maze of worlds. Maybe we made a wrong turn.”
Maggie looked at the sky full of whirling stars and an odd-shaped moon. The trees smelled strange, and the evening breeze was soft and warm. Nothing like Tihrglas. She couldn’t begin to imagine where they might be.
“You mean we got off on the wrong world somehow?” she asked. “Gallen, you reeking bag of fish, I ought to knock you in the head! What did you have to do this for? What were you thinking, going after the key that way? You could have gotten us all killed! I know what you were after-that woman Everynne. You’ve been hot for her from the moment you first saw her. Why, if someone lopped off your head, it would be no loss. Your gonads would still do all the thinking!”
Gallen shrugged. “The vanquishers had another key. I had to warn Veriasse. Besides, I didn’t ask either of you two to come along.”
Maggie glared at him. “You left me! Both you and your dumb bear left me. As soon as those ogres began shouting, every wight in the country rushed up the hill toward us. I had to throw in with you! And if I hadn’t come to your aid, we’d have all been killed! We could have all stayed home, hidden safe in the woods, but now…!”
Gallen said, “I’m sorry. I would never wish any harm on you. I’d never have dragged you into this.”
He had such an expression of grief on his face, and he spoke with such sincerity, that Maggie had a hard time staying angry. She pointed her finger at him and then shook her fist. “Just admit one thing. Just be honest about one thing: don’t you dare tell me that you came here to talk to Veriasse. It was Everynne you were after. You’ve been giving her looks all day, and don’t you dare deny it, Gallen O’Day, or I’ll beat you with a stick.”
Gallen shrugged. “I couldn’t just let her get killed.”
Maggie figured that was as much of a confession as she’d ever get from him. She got up and looked furiously for the crystal key. She had fallen on it when she rolled through the gate. Its lights were gently fading. Maggie picked it up. She could see little worms of silver inside, bits of wire and small circles made of gold, odd things that looked like a priest’s communion wafer.
Orick grunted. “I’m hungry. Is anybody else hungry? Where do you think we could get some food?”
“Aye,” Gallen said, “I’m hungry. And thirsty, and tired. And I’ve no idea which way to go, do you?”
Orick gave a little bawl, bear talk for, “No, and it really makes me mad.”
“If we head off on a straight path,” Gallen said, “maybe we’ll meet up with a river or a road.”
Maggie looked toward the falling moon on the horizon. It seemed as good a direction as any to take, and if she left it to Gallen and Orick, they’d never make up their minds. She began hiking through the forest and the others were forced to follow.
The uneven ground featured no real hills be few flat spots. They pushed their way through broad-leaved plants that made the sound of tearing paper, and everywhere she could hear mice or rats running through the dry undergrowth. Often, tumbled white stones protruded from the ground.