Eventually the sleds came to a halt and everyone stepped off and stood in the same flat landscape they had been travelling through for days.
They watched, still in silence, as Dartun sauntered towards the glow of an immensely high doorway, which seemed to hover just above the ice, fifty paces away. A group of the red-skinned rumel stood by it, armed with swords, but showed no sign yet of having seen either the cultists or the undead. Their armour caught the rays of the new day's sun, and their presence made Verain wonder just how many waited beyond.
She watched Dartun produce an aldartal, a narrow brass tube employed to pause time. As he approached, Todi and Tuung put their two arms around each other, and-
– suddenly were some way off, now taking a few belongings from their sled. She looked up to realize that Dartun had just unfrozen her in time, having the aldartal still in his grasp.
'You OK?' Dartun enquired of her.
'Yes,' Verain said, pulling her hood up and pushing the loose strands of her black hair under it. Dartun gave her a loving glance.
'We're finally here. This is it,' he said with a smile.
'I'm a little scared.'
'It's the unknown, that's all. It's all we're ever scared of. I'll look after you, I promise.'
She looked behind them and saw that everyone else was now motionless. Even the undead stood with precision stillness. Up ahead, the rumel soldiers, too, were perfectly still. In the snowy haze, the Realm Gate glowed invitingly.
'I'll just get this lot undone and then we're off,' he said cheerfully. Dartun headed back to free the rest of his order from the bonds of time.
He left the dogs in a state of suspension though, as they wouldn't be required for the next stage of the journey.
As he marched back to join her, everyone else plodded after him. It was a surreal sight, these few dozen men and women, all cloaked in black, tramping across an ice sheet.
They continued towards the red-skinned rumels, Dartun pressing ahead alone, clearly the most eager. There were twenty rumels in total, but that showed no indication of their numbers beyond. Were these ones just as wary about being here in another world as Verain was to be stepping into one? A bitter wind forced her head down, but she continued walking in the footsteps of the cultist in front. When she looked up again she noted how the light from the Realm Gate didn't cast any shadows. Just how ancient was the technology that had created this thing? It loomed higher and higher, and the nearer she got to it, the more impossibly tall it seemed.
Above the howl of the wind, Dartun was saying something. '… we must now remain cautious, because of our lack of knowledge of what lies beyond. Whatever relics you carry, make sure you have them at the ready.'
His form was now almost just a silhouette against the bright light. She sensed him glance back to her and smile, and couldn't help but be infected by his keenness. The man knew what he was doing. For a moment she forgot about their immediate situation, remembered that they were lovers. Just what exactly did he hope to find here? That was another thing about him, the constant air of mystery. Always playing with secrets.
At that very moment Dartun Sur walked with casual grace into another world.
FORTY-FIVE
Tuya regarded Marysa as the female rumel stood watching the blurred figure of Jeryd pass the front window on his way to work. Faint flurries of snow slashed past the glass, morning sunlight penetrating in between. As Marysa turned to face her, she realized she was pretty for a rumel. Even without youth on her side, she still possessed a youthful charm. Her dark, almost-black skin gave her an exotic air – you didn't see too many of that colour in the city, most being brown or dark grey. Perhaps this added an allure of mystery that Investigator Jeryd could never really solve.
The two women now sat enveloped in thick layers of brown robes that did nothing much for either of them except keep them warm. For a long while there was a tenuous silence brought about from suddenly being thrown together. Visitors often possessed the power to inflict self-consciousness on their hosts and she could see a hesitant look in the rumel's eyes, as if she too was uncertain at how to handle the situation.
They were startled by the sound of a snowball striking the window.
'Would you like some tea?' Marysa enquired.
'Thanks,' Tuya said, 'but you don't have to be polite to me. I can easily understand you not wanting someone like me in your home.'
Marysa stood up and walked over to the kitchen area. 'Jeryd merely said you were in trouble, and that people were after you.'
Tuya wondered if Jeryd had informed Marysa of everything she had been through, of the destruction she may have caused. Not something to bring up, though, as it didn't make for an easy conversation.
'I work as a prostitute,' Tuya said bluntly.
Marysa glanced back at her. 'Oh.'
Another snowball hit the glass.
'It's not as bad as you'd think. I'm selective.'
So cosy, with the clink of cups, the crackling fire, the water boiling.
'I'm in a little trouble with some people who'll be looking for me. They wanted what I couldn't give them.' Tuya laughed inwardly: what exactly could she not give a man? 'You know, you're really very lucky to have someone like Jeryd. He seems such a good sort.'
'He is.' Marysa spun around rather too quickly, her expression warning Tuya to stay away from the husband she loved.
'You know, I've never loved anyone like you must have done,' Tuya said. 'Never even been in love.'
'Really?' Marysa enquired, and there was genuine interest in her tone.
'That's right, never. And I'm in my forties. I've not met any man with whom I could form a connection. I suppose, in my job, it's easier if you don't get too attached to people.'
'I can understand that.'
Tuya continued, 'I've had men who've had their little infatuations with me. Lonely men, in particular, seem to become infatuated so easily.'
'Why do you do… what you do?' Marysa said, embarrassed but curious.
Tuya thought about this for some time. 'I'd like to say for the money. It's easy money, after all. I don't have to do much, just use whatever I've been blessed with. But there's an emptiness now that I just can't explain, like a spiritual scar.' She touched the side of her face. 'Sometimes you know you've walked so far down a particular path that you've nothing left but your dignity. Dignity to keep on down that very same path, even though it's the wrong one. Because when you stop, when you think… that's when it hurts the most. Some sort of dignity is all I've got left.'
Tuya resisted the urge to cry, but she could tell by the fact that Marysa was now walking towards her that she was failing in this. Marysa placed a hand gently on Tuya's.
A sound now from the roof.
Tuya looked up. 'What's that?'
'It's those damn kids,' Marysa said, 'throwing snowballs at our house. It usually stops after half an hour, but it doesn't half drive you crazy.'
A snowball smashed the windowpane and exploded inside, accompanied by squeals of childish laughter.
*
Now working in his chambers, Jeryd checked his crossbow. They didn't make them now like they used to. You used to get some slick firing mechanisms that were so straightforward to reload. Insert and click. The new one he held in his hand was problematic, because you had to insert the bolt so deep before it locked in place. Sure, it fired much further, so they claimed, but you spent far too much time reloading, in which time a knife could rake across your throat and it was all over. He needed something quick and deadly, promising a swift shot in the dark. The rumel held the weapon this way and that, then shook his head. It would have to do.
