had died fighting. Again, he noted how Xiri reminded him of… of…
He had tried so hard to forget her death, to forget the pain he had suffered… that Dru had forgotten her name.
“Is something amiss?”
“Nothing,” he snapped back. The shamed sorcerer knew his face was crimson. “My memory has failed me. That’s all it was.”
“I see.” She did, in a sense. He could see that. Xiri knew that whatever had disturbed the Vraad had been very personal. It was a comfort that, unlike Melenea, the elf did not probe the open wound merely for her own amusement. Instead, Xiri glanced up at the blue sky and said, “The day will be gone and we will still be here wondering what to do.”
Dru hesitated. Their key to escape might lie within the empty square where the rift was. Despite his desire to never return there—and the possible threat of the guardians, who might decide that eliminating an elf and a Vraad was worth breaking their own rules—the rift was probably the only hope they had. Even if Sharissa crossed over with the rest, there was no way she would be able to locate him. Not here.
They had to go back.
“I know a way.” When she waited, a slight, patient smile enhancing her smooth, pale features, he forced himself to go on. “Do you remember when I rode into sight?”
“I remember. Your steed frightened me. I had never seen such an animal. Are all your horses like that?”
The thought of a stable filled with Darkhorses eased the tension in his mind and almost made him smile. “Hardly. What I ask is if you remember how I appeared?”
“I did not see that. I assumed you came from behind some building.”
He had forgotten that no one had noticed the two of them until he and Darkhorse were already riding toward them. Dru shook his head. “No, we didn’t. What you and the avians missed was the rift in reality through which we emerged. A hole, if that brings to mind what I’m trying to explain.”
“A hole?” She rose, ever lithe in her movements. “You found a hole such as the one my people are supposed to have used?”
“Not just any. It leads to where the originators of this… experiment… last lived. It may hold the key to controlling everything.”
Xiri gazed back in the direction of the clearing where she had first seen Dru. “The Sheeka never knew how close they were.” Turning to the tall Vraad, she asked suspiciously, “Why did you ‘forget’ to tell me this before?”
There had been a time when nothing would have shamed the master sorcerer. Now, it felt as if his face burned all the time. “I was frightened. I… didn’t want to… return to the central chamber.”
“What was in there?” Her suspicion had turned to sympathy. From all she had likely been told about his kind, shame was not something Xiri would have expected from him.
Now it was his turn to gaze back in the direction of that terrible place. “The memories of the last of that race. The truth about Nimth. A feeling that the Vraad are too much like them and will fade away even as they have.”
“All races fade with time. The Quel, the Sheeka, and their predecessors are all examples of that. Even the elves will pass on.” Xiri gave the ruined city a look of contempt as she added, “For all our ‘failure’ to live up to their expectations, we elves have lasted longer than most.”
“I don’t believe we have to fall. Not until all reality itself fades away.” Dru clenched his fists. “I can find it fairly easy. I could never forget now.”
“What about the guardians?”
He met her eyes, found no fear in them, only honest worry. “You’re the one who reminded me we have no choice. I’d hoped you had a way out of here, a way to travel to where my… to where your people are.”
Xiri put a hand on his arm. “I know the Vraad have come. You could not exactly hide it, Dru. We will deal with them when we return home.”
She had not said “if,” which strengthened the sorcerer’s resolve a bit, though he was certain Xiri had used the word for her own sake. Neither of them wanted to think what would happen if the guardians, especially one of them, did, indeed, decide the Vraad and the elf could be removed despite the rules laid down by the long-gone lords.
“You are not so bad, for an