Miami Days and Truscan (22 page)

“Smart stone,” I said and got up to summon the girls. No point in waiting until morning, we needed breakfast and we needed supplies. I started issuing orders. I was getting pretty damn good at this queen gig.

We didn’t leave at first light, but it wasn’t long afterward when we prepared to mount the faltons in the stables, Johnny and Dal standing silently to the side. Johnny was shell-shocked, I think; Dal rebellious. He wanted to go, too, and stubborn as his father, tried one last time.

“Two is not enough on such a quest.
Please
let me go with you, I won’t be any trouble, I’ll—”

Dalph stepped in front of him and knelt on one knee, so that Dal didn’t have to look up.

“Son, you are the heir of Trusca. We can’t take you with us. Trusca is your responsibility should anything happen to me. And Johnny will help you hold her just as he helped me. Please don’t make us ride away with the memory that you’re angry at us.”

Dal threw his arms around his father, and I moved in to get my hug, too. We led the faltons out of the stable and prepared to mount. I looked back before I urged Andromeda into movement and could see the tears on Dal’s cheeks as he stood by Johnny, Johnny’s hand resting on his shoulder.

“Johnny, you
will
take care of my son, won’t you?” I called back.

“With my dying breath,” he answered, and there being no kindness in delay, not for us and not for the ones we were leaving behind, we touched our heels to the Faltons’ sides and raced through the city gates, headed south, toward Trusca’s stone of power, which had finally decided to make its presence known.

Chapter Twenty-One

One summer during my college years, some of my friends got a hare-brained urge to drive cross-country to Los Angeles and unfortunately, they’d convinced me to go with them. What I remembered most about that drive is that once you passed out of the last wooded areas of East Texas, the country from there to the California foothills consisted of nothing but miles and miles of nothing.

This was pretty much the same thing. We were out of the usual patrol boundaries within a day and a half of leaving Trussa, into country that was not totally unknown, but seldom explored, as the Truscans concentrated their energy on the threat before them, not on the emptiness behind them. We relied on the dried provisions packed in our saddlebags, and we were lucky enough to find a little water here and there. Dalph didn’t want to waste riding time on hunting, and fresh meat became a fond memory, much mourned by the fourth day.

The nights were uneasy; we were restless in each other’s arms, and I was afraid to fall fully asleep in the event the stone decided to call Dalph again. I hadn’t been exaggerating when I argued my case for accompanying him based on the fact that he was virtually helpless when the stone reached out to him; I couldn’t imagine the pain that had made this man actually moan aloud in his sleep.

During our fifth night in what I had privately dubbed to myself the Truscan Badass, with some uncharted mountain range looming larger and larger, the stone did call again, though thankfully not with the same impact as it had attacked him back in Trussa. I was alerted this time by that fact that he was shaking, but at least he wasn’t wringing wet (and a good thing, too—it was
cold
out in the Badass at night), and he wasn’t moaning. When I got him awake, he admitted that his head ached, but said that it wasn’t anything like the first time.

“So what does it mean? Are we close?”

“Yes, another day, maybe two. But-but—”

He seemed at a loss as to how to explain, which surprised me, as I believe I’d made it abundantly clear that Dalph was extremely articulate in both Truscan and English. I tried to help out.

“But are we going the right way?”

“Yes. But it’s
showing
me things, things I don’t understand.”

“Like what?”

“We’re in Pria. I think. The capital.”

“And that would be?”

“Well,
we
call it Pig City. The Prians call it Prius.”

“And what else would you or they call it? Of course. So the Truscan troops are invading?”

“I think so. But what’s happening, what I see, I don’t know what could
do
that, there’s nothing, no weapon that I know of—”

“The stone?”

“No,” he said immediately. “It’s not the stone itself. I don’t know how I know, I just do. But the city’s on fire, only not all at the same time, and Kruska’s stronghold, it’s still intact. But the fires are moving, they’re coming, only not together. It’s like one structure goes up in flames. And then another does, only it’s not the next structure as it would be in a fire; it’s one several buildings over. And I don’t know, I’ve never seen—”

I hated to see him so agitated. And I had never thought to be so Truscan, but that’s what this journey through the Badass was doing to me. The closer we got to the mountains and the stone, the more I believed that the stone had helped Brentar the Strong save Trusca, and that it would do the same for Dalph.

“Let it go, Dalph. When we get there, it’ll tell you. Let it go. Let’s try to get a little more sleep, dawn’s still pretty far off.”

We settled back down and did at least grab a few hours of rest, however fitful, and though Dalph said we were close, the start of the actual mountains slowed us somewhat. I equated the mountains with those of the American west; not the towering Rockies, but the mountains further west and south, like the Sierra Nevada range, beautiful, but precipitous and treacherous. We still hadn’t made it by the next night, when the stone sent Dalph the same message.

“But
what
is it trying to tell me?! I’ve never seen anything like that, Tess! We have nothing,
nothing
, in this world that could wreak that type of damage!”

“You have the stone,” I repeated. “And it’ll tell you.”

And by early evening of the next day, we approached the entrance to a cave, and even
I
knew the Power Stone was inside. It hummed; raw power crackling through the air. An ordinary horse would have been spooked, I’m sure, but the faltons never even tossed their heads; rather, it seemed as though the humming was calling them home, too. And what further proof did you need, I thought, that the faltons were
überhorses
, beloved creations of the Truscan gods?

We dismounted, dropped the faltons’ reins loosely over the scrub on the outside of the cave, and walked toward the entrance. Dalph and I paused as one, and joined hands. No one had laid eyes on the Power Stone of Trusca for five hundred years, and only a fool would not be fearful. Both of us had a lot of faults, but neither of us was a fool. We gave ourselves a couple more seconds and then, there being nothing left to do but walk inside, we did.

Our respective reactions, which were not exclamations so much as softly breathed prayers, immediately labeled us as products of our own worlds, no matter how Americanized Dalph was, or how Truscanized I was becoming.

“By Trusco’s sword!”

“Holy Mary, Mother of God!”

They twinkled; they entranced; they beckoned. The lights that pulsated from their centers met and merged and played against each other as they ranged over the light spectrum, varying shades of red twining with orange and yellow, hitting blue, changing to green, darkening to indigo, twisting to violet and then to darkest royal purple, constantly shifting rainbows of color dancing in the air above not one, but five of the legendary Stones of Power, arranged in a circle on the pillar of stone that stood in the middle of the cavern.

We simply stood and stared for a moment, entranced, in awe. They appeared to be made of clear crystal and yet managed to capture within them every shade of color. They varied in size from probably four inches in circumference down to one. If the legends were right (and why should they be doubted at this point?), the largest stone would have been the one originally hidden in Trusca. There was a noticeable gap in the circle, a gap wherein, by my calculations, the second largest stone should stand.

I was the first to break the silence.

“The legends say that Canton of Canor terrorized the world, looking for the Power Stones.”

“Yes.”

“And so obviously, Brentar was either always ahead of him or behind him. And brought them all here.”

“Yes. Except one.”

“Pria’s stone.”

“Exactly.”

“You think—”

So close had we grown, both physically and emotionally, that there was no need for me to complete the question.

“I know. I know that Pria has found the stone. And it’s in Kruska’s stronghold. That’s why in the visions the stone sends me, the surrounding buildings are in flames, but the stronghold isn’t. We have to reach Pria’s Power Stone.”

“Yes.”

“But I still don’t know how.”

“I don’t think the stones went to all this trouble to just leave us hanging. We wait.”

“We wait. Let’s tend to the faltons, they’ve earned a rest.”

“Should we make camp here, do you think? In the cave?”

“Yes. I think I ought to be near the stones.”

That certainly made sense, though it was a little disconcerting to be so close to this legendary power source. We brought the faltons in, unsaddled them, and left them to move freely about. There was actually a small spring on the far right side, which would certainly make the wait easier, both for us and for the faltons. There was no worry that they would bolt or stray, as there would have been with ordinary horses; both Pegasus and Andromeda would stay near us.

And when we had settled in, for how long a wait we didn’t know, we sat down beside each other on the bedrolls that Dalph had fixed as comfortable as possible, locked hands, and stared at the stones. It was hard not to; they were mesmerizing, and in hindsight, I think they intended to be, were meant to be. In only a matter of minutes, I found myself actually unable to look away and, I swear, began to feel myself float. Then I heard the wind. The noise began as a slight whistle and quickly moved into what felt like gale-force, a physical impossibility in the confines of the cave. I clutched Dalph’s hand even tighter, struggling to hear him as he spoke over the rushing roar.

“Tess! The moon! The moon is—”

And then I heard no more until I came to my senses, how much later I didn’t know. No bedroll was beneath me; I felt the softness of sugar sand. I opened my eyes to the night sky; velvety blackness as only graces the semi-tropics, with brilliant points of diamond star light dancing over the slow and inevitable movement of the tide. I didn’t feel Dalph’s hand; I was holding onto soft fur. The moon, he’d been saying something about the moon. I shifted my eyes, and there it hung, not fully risen, but at least fully emerged from the depths of the ocean waves. It was yellow. And it was full. And I knew why we were here.

I struggled a bit to sit up, the sand kept giving way beneath my hands, as only the finest beach sand does, and over to my right, saw the landmark that, to my relief, established for me exactly where we were. I reached over to Dalph.

“Don’t worry. I know where we are.”

He made a whining sound deep in his throat, and I couldn’t resist.

“Don’t whine, honey. I hate it when you whine.”

Of course, he issued a half growl at that, and I laughed. Wolf really wasn’t that hard to understand if you knew the personality underneath it.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s nothing to joke about. Well, welcome to my world. We’re in Cape Florida State Park. It’s on one of the islands off the coast of Miami, in the Biscayne Bay. I mean, really, welcome to
my
world. See that lighthouse?” I pointed. “That’s how I’m sure where we are, which is good, ’cause when it’s time to go back, I don’t want to be running around looking for the exact spot.”

Dalph made another guttural noise.

“Of course we’re going to get back. It sent us for a reason. Thank God the park closes at sunset and doesn’t have a campground. I’d hate to be dodging campers. Keep an eye open, I don’t know if they have security guards roaming around or not. Probably not, and hopefully only one or two if at all.”

I started walking up toward the area rest rooms and pavilions, looking for a pay phone. Dalph followed me, more growling emerging from the back of his throat. Poor baby; I know he was frustrated as hell, but I really didn’t want to explain right now. I needed confirmation of my theory, and I needed it from a man Dalph probably wouldn’t be too happy meeting. Ex-boyfriends and lovers were all well and fine when they were a world and dimension away but I figured that might change once said ex-boyfriend and lover materialized in the flesh. However, I had no choice. I stopped and laid it on the line for him.

“Look, I know why we’re here. I know more than that. Remember when you told me about the stones the first time? You said, ‘some even say they open the doors between the worlds.’ Well, they do. And they choose when they do and they choose whom they let through. Your mother came through because
you
have to be
exactly
who you are, right now, to be the king who’ll bring home the last Power Stone. Johnny came through because
you
have to be
exactly
who you are, right now.
I
came through because I’m the final reason you are who you are,
right now
. And also because
I
know what it sent us after and how to get it, what your visions actually show. And I’m real sorry about this,” I said as I wound down, feeling absurdly like Marty at the end of
Back to the Future II
, “but there’s only one man who can help us now.”