“I don’t think that’s possible,” Sath said as he tried to keep his voice even and confident. “We’ve definitely ended up somewhere other than where we meant to go because we didn’t really mean to GO anywhere—but we are somewhere. If we were in the middle of the spell, we wouldn’t be…us…here…? I don’t know what I’m even saying, Gin, this kind of magic is really your thing, not mine.”
“Maybe you used the wrong vial?” Gin said, speaking carefully. For the most part, Sath was just Sath with her, but she had experience with the Rajah and the Bane of the Forest, and though she tried not to be, she was still a bit wary of Sath under those circumstances. She chuckled a little bit in an attempt to lighten his mood when she heard the low rumbling growl start in his chest. “I mean, I had my eyes closed, Sath, so I don’t know…”
“It was the correct vial, Gin, the wizard told me how to use it, and that’s exactly what I did—but we are not anywhere near the Forest now. Your Sephine keep us, it seems we are IN a rift. We are in the Void between the worlds.” Sath’s voice was tight and pinched, and Gin was relieved that the growl still reverberating under his skin did not seem to be directed at her.
“So, what do we do?”
“You tell me, you said your wizard brought you here before.”
“He is not my wizard, and I said it did NOT look like this before.” Gin tried to keep her voice calm and steady, but panic was overtaking her and bringing Sath along for the ride. A rift? The Void? How would they get back home? Who would look after things if they didn’t? “Oh, Khujann…” she whispered, and suddenly Sath grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her up to his eye level.
“None of that, you hear me?” he said, thankful on a deep level to have something on which to focus other than the dark expanse around them. “We will figure this out, Gin, you and I, and everyone we love will be fine until we do. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Rajah,” she said, rolling her eyes. Inwardly Sath was pleased. The fear he had heard in her voice could have shut her down completely, and he was not going to be able to manage this—whatever it was—if she was not there with him. Completely there with him, in mind and body. He released her slowly until her boots were firmly on the sandy, rocky ground beneath them.
“I see movement over there,” he whispered to her. “Perhaps we are not alone, after all.” He took off to the right, hopping nimbly from stone to stone to a nearby larger rock. Gin followed him but then stopped in absolute horror when she recognized the figure that Sath was heading toward.
“Sath!” she hissed loudly. He paused and turned to look at her as the figure seemed to catch sight of him and moved toward them. “Sath come back! Don’t you know who that is? It looks like a dragon, like—It can’t be!”
Sath slowly turned back around toward the gigantic creature that stood just inches from him now. It was undoubtedly a dragon—it was Lord Taanyth, the mad Father Dragon, but he didn’t seem to notice Sath’s presence. Sath stood still, waiting for some word or attack or anything from Taanyth…and there was nothing. The dragon sniffed the air, shook his massive head, and remained standing between Sath and the next large rock. Slowly, agonizingly, Sath turned back toward Gin and returned to her side. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the dragon until Sath was safely back with her. “That can’t be good,” he whispered as he again wrapped an arm protectively around Gin. “He was definitely real, but it was like he didn’t know I was there. I mean, I’d rather not engage him, but Gin, Taanyth is dead. How is he here? What part of the Void is this? This is not good.”
“No. Not at all.” Gin pushed his arm away and sat down on the rocky ground. “We need a plan, Sath, and we need it soon.”
Eight
The Void Between
They sat in silence for a long time. Sath’s mind was occupied with an internal tug of war: he wanted desperately to protect Gin and fix things, but at the same time, he was fighting a rising panic that he could do neither of those. Gin looked through her spell book for something helpful as well as to attract attention away from her shaking hands. Finally, Sath noticed the tremor when he heard one of the pages rattle as she turned it. “Gin, don’t worry,” he said quietly. “You know that I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“As long as there isn’t a bard around, anyway,” she muttered in Elvish. She was well aware of the effect both the words and the language would have on him, and it turned out that she was right on the money with both.
“Really?” Sath hissed as he got to his feet. “Still hung up on that?”
“No. I mean yes, but…no, I’m not still hung up on that. I’m sorry,” Gin lied. “I am just worried, frustrated, and not
