A Girl From Nowhere (The Firewall Trilogy #1) - James Maxwell Page 0,64

a white-walled dream on the horizon that became smaller and smaller.

Wanting nothing more than to be back in her body, she searched for her lifeline and saw the glowing white cord connecting her to a place in the distant canyon. She pulled on the cord. Immediately she flew back toward the canyon, down to the ravine, and sped directly to the small collection of tents where Mugrak had made his camp.

A moment later her eyes refocused.

“What happened?” Mugrak asked.

“Something . . . someone . . . was keeping guard. I swear it’s true.”

Mugrak grunted. “Never fear, I believe you. You met the Protector’s mystic sentinel. The Protector has a mantorean up in that tower. I was hoping you might escape her notice.” Mugrak shook his head. “To cast so far . . . I am impressed.” He met her eyes. “Blixen will have more questions for you. The next time you cast, it will be for him.”

18

“Fare you well,” Syrus said. The skalen’s voice became grave as he stood with Taimin and Lars near the hidden entrance to his home. “And be careful. War is coming to Zorn. Be in no doubt. You are heading into danger.”

“It’ll be worth it in the end,” Lars said. “No matter the risk.”

Taimin knew that Selena was right: individuals should be judged on merit, and Syrus was one of the good ones. “Thank you,” he said. “I mean that.” He patted the bow on his shoulder. “I’m in your debt.”

Syrus shook his head. “I have told you, young human, there is no debt.”

As Lars said his goodbyes, Taimin was tense. All he could think about was Selena. She had put herself forward, offering her ability to the skalen so that the three of them wouldn’t be killed. By now she was almost certainly at the Rift Valley, where she would have to make a choice, and he knew what she would do. If she refused to help the Protector of Zorn’s enemies, she wouldn’t be useful anymore. She would die.

Syrus and Lars were still talking. “You remember my directions to Zorn?” the skalen asked.

“Seared into my mind.”

“Once again,” Syrus said, “be careful of the Rift Valley. I don’t have to tell you that the bax don’t like humans at all.”

“That’s where I’ll be going,” Taimin said.

“Not me,” said Lars. “As soon as I get to Zorn, I’ll tell them about the things we’ve learned, but I’ll leave the soldiers to do the fighting. I’m getting old. Give me a job butchering meat or tanning leather and I’ll happily take it.”

“The route I’ve given you will take you straight to the plain,” Syrus said. He glanced at Taimin. “If you want to go to the Rift Valley from there, that’s your choice. I know your reasons. Just keep your wits about you.”

Three days after leaving Syrus’s homestead, Taimin and Lars emerged on the far side of a narrow pass and stopped to gaze over the landscape. Tall mountains loomed behind them. A cool breeze blew from the heights, but Taimin knew that the air would become hotter as they descended. The bright blue sky contrasted with the colors of brown and rust below.

The two men were silent as they stood together on the slope, where the high ground gave them a sweeping view of the broad plain and the immense canyon on their distant left. The plain spread across the land until the Rift Valley at its edge fell away in a long, broken escarpment, as if some monstrous creature had plunged from the sky to devour mouthfuls of dirt and rock, leaving behind the impression of gigantic teeth. Deep and wide, the canyon splintered into countless smaller ravines.

Taimin glanced at Lars. The skinner scowled as he stared at the horizon. “Can’t see it,” he muttered.

“Still wondering if the white city is real?” Taimin asked.

“Zorn is real,” Lars said. “But there’s a difference between knowing it and seeing it for myself.”

Taimin returned to his inspection of the great canyon. “She’s down there, somewhere,” he murmured, more to himself than the older man beside him.

Lars clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll find her, lad. I’m sure of it.”

Taimin didn’t reply. Instead he patted Griff’s flank and, now that they were on open ground, pulled himself onto the wherry’s back. Griff whined, excited. He hadn’t had a chance to stretch his legs in a long time.

“All right,” Lars said. “You’re in a hurry, lad. I can see that.”

The two suns beat down from overhead. Lizards clung to