It disturbed him, but not because they were so violent.
Because he wanted to do it again.
He felt like something dark at his core, something that he had kept leashed all his life, had broken loose and was running renegade. He, who took control whenever he could, didn’t feel in control of himself at all. He shifted restlessly in his seat. When he glanced at her Aryal was frowning, lost deep in thought.
She broke the silence first. “Dragos had said that to the best of his knowledge, Numenlaur had only one crossover passageway, the one that led here to Earth that was barred so long ago. But the Numenlaurian army was in the Lirithriel Elves’ Other land when we confronted them, so is there really only one crossover passageway from Numenlaur or does it connect to that Other land as well?”
When the Earth had been formed, time and space had buckled, creating Other lands that were connected to Earth and sometimes to each other by dimensional crossover passageways. They were magic-rich places where combustible technologies didn’t work, and where time ran differently than it did on what Quentin liked to think of as the mainland.
Sometimes the Other lands were immense, as was the Dark Fae land of Adriyel, and they had several crossover passageways to other places. Sometimes the Other lands were mere pockets of space that led nowhere.
Quentin’s eyes still felt dry from the sleepless night and the long flight. He rubbed them as he said, “Dragos is right. Numenlaur does only have one passageway.”
She sent him a frowning glance. “You know this for sure, how?”
“I talked to Ferion when I went to get supplies,” he told her. As she turned her head to look at him fully, he added irritably, “Don’t get pissy about it, and keep your eyes on the road. I wasn’t selling state secrets. Dragos never said anything about keeping our assignment under wraps.”
She looked like he had stuffed a slice of lemon in her mouth, but after a moment she grumbled, “Fair enough. I wasn’t aware that you had a personal connection to the new High Lord.”
“It’s not a close connection,” he said. “We’re family by marriage.”
“It’s close enough that you were able to get him on the phone,” she pointed out.
He pressed his thumb and forefinger against his closed eyelids until he saw red stars. “When I was younger, we spent some time together, took vacations and went hunting, that sort of thing. Now that he’s become the High Lord, I think getting him on the phone is going to become harder and harder to do over time.”
She mulled that over. “I’ve heard that Ferion was the late High Lord Calondir’s son, but is he Beluviel’s son too? It takes two to make a baby, and the woman has the more significant role in the process by far, but at some point Beluviel always disappears from the conversation.”
“Ferion is not Beluviel’s son,” he said. “He was born a long time ago. I don’t know the whole story, other than Beluviel and Calondir hadn’t always gotten along. They had been living separate lives when Ferion was born. Later, they came back together when the Elven demesne was formed in what became the United States, and they stayed a strong partnership ever since, at least in a public and political sense. I can’t speak to the reality in their private lives.”
Aryal pursed her lips. “Since Beluviel was Calondir’s consort, why didn’t she become the High Lady, or whatever she would have been called?”
He shrugged. “Like I said, I’m not on the inside of that family circle, but from what I’ve heard, Beluviel didn’t want to become Lady of the Lirithriel Elves.”
“Pity,” she said. “I don’t have anything against Ferion, but I’ve always liked Beluviel.” She glanced at him. “So what did he say when you talked to him?”
“Dragos was right, Ferion’s overextended. He has thought of Numenlaur but has not had a chance to do anything more than send a small party of Elves to guard the passageway. He also sent some trackers over Lirithriel’s Other land to trace the path of the Numenlaurian army back to its source.”
“Why?”
“He wanted to make sure that Gaeleval hadn’t abandoned any enthralled Elves who might have been too sick or injured to keep up with the rest of the army.”
Aryal winced. “Do you know if they found anybody?”
“Nobody alive,” he said grimly.
She swore quietly.
Quentin took a deep breath. “Anyway, Numenlaur isn’t the only crossover passageway in the Bohemian Forest. There’s one that leads to the Lirithriel Other land too.”
Aryal frowned. “I guess I’m not surprised. There may be even more than those two passageways. The Bohemian Forest is a very old and witchy place. Not sentient like Lirithriel Wood was before it burned, just witchy.”
Quentin understood what she meant. The Bohemian Forest, called
Quentin had spent some time hiking there when he was younger. At first he had gone to look where the fabled Numenlaurian passageway was rumored to have stood, but the magic used in barring the passageway hid it from outside eyes and he was never certain he had found where it was supposed to have been located.
He told her, “Well, Gaeleval took advantage of the proximity of the two passageways. He marched his army out of Numenlaur, through the forest, and then into the Lirithriel Other land through the second passageway. Nobody here on Earth knew a thing.”
“If Ferion’s got Elven guards on the Numenlaurian passageway, then our assignment is little more than in name only,” Aryal said. She blew out a sigh. “Well, the main part the assignment isn’t. More than half the reason Dragos sent us here was to get rid of us.”
Quentin angled out his jaw. He couldn’t deny it. He looked sideways at the same moment Aryal did. He was immensely surprised when they both burst out laughing at the same time.
It felt strange, almost good, like they shared a moment of camaraderie. His laughter faded and he scowled at the thought. “We may not be doing any of this for Ferion, but he’s glad we’re going to check on the passageway. He asked me to give him an update when we get back. There’s no cell phone reception in the forest, and he hasn’t heard anything from the guards since they went in.”
Her eyebrows rose. “How long ago was that?”
“He didn’t say exactly, but from the gist of the conversation, I think it had to have been at least three weeks ago.” Quentin tried to straighten his legs as much as he could. His muscles were protesting sitting for so long in such confined spaces.
“And he hasn’t heard from them since?” She shook her head. “Sloppy. They should have sent someone out with an update by now.”
He sighed. “Yes, an update would have been good, but you don’t know that it was sloppy. They might have found some need to cross over to Numenlaur. If that happened, then you’ve got to factor in time slippage from the Other land. Ferion didn’t sound too worried. He’ll just be glad to hear how things are going.”
After that they fell silent again, as if talking with some kind of civility had been enough of a strain that they couldn’t sustain it any longer. Just over an hour into the journey, a bit south of Plze
, they switched highways to continue in a more southern direction that would take them to the northern edge of the Forest. After passing through another urban cluster, they passed quickly into countryside again.
The Forest was growing in popularity as a vacation destination, and it had several camping grounds along with ski resorts. They would be able to drive in a fair distance before they would have to park and hike.
Still, Aryal had to slow the Peugeot as the roads grew narrow and winding. The amount of traffic dropped to almost nonexistent. Even though the low surrounding mountains were streaked with patches of white, probably both ski resorts and campgrounds were all but deserted. The weather was too warm for satisfactory snow cover for skiing, but too cold and damp for all but the hardiest of campers.
Aryal spoke, disrupting the long silence. “If I was on my own, I would have taken to the air by now, and I would scout for the passageways by feeling for land magic.”
Quentin rubbed his face. “It might still be useful if you did that when we got closer.” He looked at her over his hand. “I just realized you’re old enough to remember the time before Numenlaur closed itself off from the world.”
