He didn’t remember anything about the journey through time and space and alternate dimensions the last time he’d gone. This time, Carter, the Talos, felt immense pressure, so intense it felt like his bronze body was on the verge of exploding. For a fleeting second, he wondered about Ellie. If this was so physically hard on him, could her human body withstand it? She’d withstood it before. He clung to that hope as they crashed into darkness, then light, then darkness again. A sea of it. Immense and boundless, endless, broken up by a million pinpricks of color. Cold air swooshed over his bronze flesh, and then they were careening towards light again, a brightness like the sun on a Texas summer day. He glanced down to check on Ellie. Her face was screwed up as if in concentration, or pain. Her eyes were squeezed shut. He felt another stab of worry, but could do nothing about it. They fell into the searing heat, which was apparently the opposite end of the portal, through it, and back into darkness.
With a grunt, the Talos hit a cold, hard floor and rolled, sheltering Ellie, catching her against his chest, his hand under her head, protecting her vulnerable human skull from the impact. Dizziness washed over him, a sensation he wasn’t used to in this form. His stomach roiled. For a few seconds, he lay there on his elbows, body weight suspended over Ellie’s to keep from crushing her while he regained control of his senses. Finally, the Talos raised its head, looking around.
Darkness.
His initial concern was that they somehow hadn’t completed the trip. That they’d simply landed somewhere in-between, in some nether region.
No. He recognized the rough, uneven hardness beneath him. It was a floor. Concrete. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw steel beams overhead. Steel posts supporting the ceiling. Wooden pallets. Stacks of goods. A forklift in the corner. They were in some kind of warehouse. Why here, wherever it was?
Before bothering to ascertain that, he checked on Ellie first. Letting go of the Talos, Carter resumed his human form so he could feel her pulse with human fingertips, flesh on flesh. Her heartbeat thrummed strong and steady. She’d simply passed out during the crossing. Gently, he eased her head down, wishing he had something to put under her and even over her. It was a bit chilly in the warehouse, and, as usual, his shirt was gone, ruined during his transformation into the Talos.
In his hand he still gripped the sword, and the shard of Stone still bit into his palm. Carter shook his head wryly. All this warring between Sean and Nosizwe over the Stones of Fire. Maybe they weren’t anything more than portals to another dimension. Maybe whoever originally had them didn’t gain anything, except a vehicle to travel to another world. But, like any vehicle, it had to be powered by a fuel source. Apparently that fuel source was him, the Talos; or the Talos’ blood. He mulled that over as he climbed to his feet, looking around.
At the opposite end of the vast space was a closed door. Light leaked into the warehouse from around it. He couldn’t see or hear anything human. He slid the shard of Stone back into his pants pocket, but held onto the sword. Carter didn’t know anything about the proper techniques for sword fighting, but if push came to shove it couldn’t be too difficult to ram a blade into someone’s gut. Anyway, it was a viable alternative, at least until he could get his hands back on his normal weapons.
There were no windows in the warehouse, so Carter started for the door, winding his way around pallets and posts, trying to keep quiet. He didn’t want to risk alerting anyone unnecessarily. Unluckily, it was dark enough in the warehouse that as he crept around one post, he didn’t see the edge of the pallet sticking out past the load that was stacked on it. His foot caught, ramming into the wood, and he swore softly at the pain.
Carter heard a soft intake of air and a woman’s voice.
“Who’s there?”
He froze, his mind racing. Should he answer? The woman, whoever she was, might think it was a rat or some other critter sneaking about. He was tempted to keep his head down and attempt to sneak out until she spoke again.
“I heard you,” she said, her voice a little firmer now. “I know somebody’s there. Who is it? If you’re bringing me food, could you at least turn a light on? How would that hurt you?”
This time, the voice struck a chord of familiarity. Carter raced through a line of women he’d known, trying to process it. Memory quickly came back with a reply. That cop. Detective Ewing. She’d been there on the country club grounds, and was supposed to get Ellie to safety after he sacrificed his life for hers.
Standing from his crouch, he called her name quietly.
“Detective? Detective Ewing? It’s Carter Ballis.”
A heartbeat of silence. She didn’t gasp this time, but when she spoke, he registered the shock in her voice.
“Carter Ballis? But you’re—” She stopped, switching gears mid-sentence. “Where’s Ellie? How is she?”
“She’s here. She’s fine. Where are you?”
“Over here in the northwest corner. Cuffed to a post.”
“I’m coming over.”
As Carter headed that direction, his eyes adjusted better to the lighting—or lack thereof. He approached, seeing the cop’s figure firming up out of the darkness. She sat with her back against a steel post, just like she’d said. Her arms were stretched behind her, bound behind the post. She
