mana swirled away from him and coalesced into a ragged bolt of energy that ravened toward the monster. The creature screamed as the half-focused mana tore at its being, ripping through its essence and scattering fragments like sand before a storm wind.
Twisting in agony, the beast threw itself back toward the water. Its outline flowed and its proportions shifted as it jerked and flailed ineffectually. It seemed caught in a transition state, unable to take a definite action or even a definite form. The monster crashed back into the pool.
Sam watched it sink until its dark shadow was lost from sight. Without expecting an answer, he asked, 'What in hell was that thing?'
'Bunyip,' Harrier said shakily. Then he giggled, showing that he was still close to hysteria. 'Say what?'
'Bunyip,' the Australian repeated. 'It's a beastie hereabouts. Ain't never seen one before.' 'Then how do you know this was one?' 'Bunyip's a shapechanger. Lives in water and is very nasty. I figure that fit the bill. You took him out pretty good. You're one hot wizboy.'
Sam ignored the praise. He had failed to defeat the beast before it killed Jason. Over the Australian's shoulder, he could see Gray Otter kneeling by the edge of the pool. She was crying.
'Come on,' he said to Harrier. 'Let's go get the prize.'
Harrier nodded enthusiastically and followed him across the bridge. The Australian spent most of the crossing scanning the water. Twice he stumbled and nearly knocked them both into the pool.
The far side of the pool was broader than the space from which they had fought the bunyip. Its surface was rougher, too, with small outcroppings and hollows scattered about. The area sloped gradually up to the wall seamed with opal.
'Cor,' Harrier said, his eyes caressing the iridescent brilliance of the rock.
Sam noticed that several of the outcroppings on the floor were also tipped with opal. Near the center, a flat- topped chunk of dark rock projected almost a meter from the floor. On its surface lay a single opal crystal of surpassing size.
Harrier at his heels, Sam approached the dark pedestal. Unlike the other gems this was a fire opal, a far more precious kind. The eight-centimeter stone looked as though a great flame burned in its heart. Sam held his hand close to it without affecting the bright glory of the gem's brilliance.
Harrier reached to take it.
'No!' Sam could sense the power of the stone. 'Don't touch it. For it to have maximum ritual potency, I must gather it myself.'
Harrier stepped back, seeming frightened by Sam's intensity.
'Sure, Mr. Twist. It's all yours. There's plenty here for everybody.''
Sam ignored the Australian's blathering. He touched the stone and was only mildly surprised to find it warm. It was truly a stone of power. He tried to lift , but he could not get a grip. His fingers seemed to slide from the surface.
He cupped his hands to either side and concentrated. The world around him receded until Sam was aware only of the pulsing stone and himself. Slowly he brought his hands together, cradling the opal between them. His fingers tingled as they touched the oily surface. Focusing his concentration more sharply, he exerted his will on the stone. Wind whipped through the cavern, sighing through the holes worn in the stone with a frightening whelp. It shifted slightly.
The great gem seemed reluctant to move. Carefully Sam turned it in his hands, assuring himself that it was free before easing it from the hollow in which it rested. He sensed the vibration before he heard the rumble from deep in the earth. A craek appeared in the top of the blackish stone and raggedly curved away from the hole where the opal had nested. A second crack appeared, then a third. More followed, until eight fissures radiated from the nest. The cavern shook. Sand and small particles rained down. A soughing moan breathed through the chamber.
But the floor didn't drop away, nor did a huge boulder come rolling in to smash him. The moaning died away and the rumbling softened and stilled. Before his eyes, the seams of opalescence in the wall dimmed. Silence and calm returned to the chamber.
His prize in his hands, Sam rose shakily to his feet. With a whispered prayer of thanks, he turned his back to the opal-streaked wall.
'Where are you going, Mr. Twist?' Harrier asked. 'There's lots more.'
Staring at the gem, Sam answered, 'This is all I'll need. I'm not sure I can handle even as much power as I feel in this stone.' 'But you can't get back without me.'
Sam smiled. 'You and Mudder aren't the only ones who ever learned to navigate.'
Across the pool Gray Otter's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed as her face took on a calculating expression.
'But there's a bleeding fortune here just waiting to be gathered,' Harrier whined. 'I didn't come for money.' 'Well, I bloody well did. There's enough opal here to let us all live like bosses of the biggest megacorps. You can't just walk away from this.'
'I can and I will. I have more important things to do than grub up money.' Sam walked to the bridge.
By the reflection in the pool, Sam saw Harrier scramble to his feet and point an accusing finger. 'That's why you're walking out with a bleeding fortune in your hands.'
'I'm walking out with someone's salvation,' Sam said. He crossed the bridge.
'Tarring up your words don' change the truth. I walk away now and I'm leaving behind all the wealth I've ever dreamed about.''
Sam trod up the path from the pool. 'You know the way here now,' he said wearily.
'Cor, mate. That don't do me no effing good.' Sam turned to find Gray Otter on his heels. He nodded to her. To his surprise, she smiled back.
Harrier demanded his attention with a curse. 'You owe me, Twist. I couldVe been killed here. You owe me.'
'The pay you agreed to is in escrow in Perth.' 'Perth!'' Harrier slammed his hat to the floor of the cavern. 'Cor! I won't be able to come back once you close that fragging magical gate.'
'That's true, but you will be able to leave here whenever you want. I sensed that in the spell that makes the barrier. So dig to your heart's content. We'll leave you one of the Mules and enough supplies for a few days. That should give you enough time to gather more than enough opal to make you rich. Of course, the bunyip might come back.'
Harrier eyed the pool. It looked still as still as it had before the bunyip had erupted from it. With a shiver, the small man scurried across the bridge to join them.
Urdli knew something was wrong even before he emerged from the rock through which he traveled. He could feel that the mana form surrounding the hold had been disturbed. As was proper the inner ward opened for him, but as he passed through he sensed that it had been altered. There was trouble. He didn't know the seriousness of the situation until he had pulled himself through into the mundane world, and the wan opaline glow cast his spindly shadow across the capstone. It was empty.
'Purukupali! O Great Creator, how could you have made such a fool?'
Urdli felt his skin burning with anger. A few other guardian stones had also been pried from their wards, but most remained in place. This had been a haphazard looting, an ignorant destruction of the ancient balances. Whoever had done this had not even known what he was doing.
The sundered capstone was a bad sign, but he still had a small hope that the opening of the door had gone unnoticed by the ancient spirit. Perhaps it had not yet reclaimed the portion of its power that lay entombed here, giving him a chance to block the opening until he could gather others to seal it again. If he probed the well and the spirit was awake and aware, it would try to take him. He feared that he was not strong enough to deal with it by himself, but no one else was here. If he took the time to summon others, the chance would likely be lost.
He hesitated. He had no desire to become a pawn of the enemy. Old as he was, he was not yet ready to surrender his life, or his freedom.
Necessity was a strong argument, as was duty. But shame was a goad. He was the warder. If he made no attempt to set things right, his disgrace would know no bounds.
Urdli called upon the great spirit of the Rock and wrapped himself in its protection. Here in this place of great power, the spirit was powerful. He felt as durable and strong as Rock itself. Strong enough? There was only one
