Page 195 of Sword & Shadow
“As an expert in the art of smuggling,” Deckard met his silver-gray stare, “would you have any ideas about how one might slip a dead fish into a Mage’s saddlebags?”
Rafferty’s grin grew wicked. “I might have one or two.”
“Name your price.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
The short journey to the Time Keep brought them through the hills and to the oceanside. The sea spread before them with great cliffs rising on all sides. The afternoon sun lingered overhead, the orb just beginning its lazy descent. The waves lapped against the dark sand, reminding Deckard of their entry into Wauld and the sprint away from the Night Mages across the beach.
He gave another scan around the sand, water, and cliffs, wary of any Mages lurking nearby. Noticing Evylin, Ethenn, Thom, and Rafferty doing the same, he felt confident they wouldn’t miss an ambush this time. Not when they were all on edge and extra watchful.
Their plan had been thoroughly discussed on their journey. Though Deckard didn’t like it, Evylin and Ilain’s plan to split once more made the most sense. At least, it was only for a few short days this time, rather than weeks. They would be able to move more quickly, slipping undetected out of the Reach, up through Wauld, and back into Ephria.
A blend of eagerness and apprehension warred in Deckard as they descended into the Time Keep’s antechamber, the setting familiar but no less filled with tension. The heat of his magic rose along his spine, anticipating his touch. His palm tingled on the hilt of his sword. No matter the strength of his control,he intended to only reach for the magic at the last possible opportunity.
Gentle white light flooded the entrance to the Time Keep as they stepped into the hall. The ironwork windows and door bore circles and sharp lines, like the face of a clock. Deckard wondered at the design, realizing Time Mages must have been the originators of the invention.
“Why are each of the Keeps such distinct colors?” Rafferty asked as he handed out the Relics.
“Each resource has its own color,” Ilain said, then tapped the ruby of the Fire Relic, which hung around her neck. “Red for Fire, yellow for Day, blue for Water, and so on. When we connect with the resource, our magic takes on the color. You just don’t usually notice it because—well, the elements are obvious. And sunlight is yellow, so you wouldn’t be surprised by Auden’s magic either.”
“So,” Thom gestured to the windows, “Time is white? What would that even look like?”
Ilain turned to Auden, who sighed. “It’s a waste of energy,” he said.
“It’s a blip,” she argued. “You can spare it.”
Raising his hand, Auden pointed at Rafferty as he took a step forward. There was the dullest flash of white, and the weasel froze in midair, foot raised mid-step, his expression and posture wooden, locked in time. “That’s what it looks like,” Auden said, then released the magic. “Albeit a weak version.”
Rafferty’s body fell forward. He shivered upon regaining control of his muscles. “That was unpleasant,” he grumbled.
Ethenn stood at the back of the group, the Wind-Relic-turned-silvery-bow in his hand. “Do we know what to expect beyond that door?” he asked.
Ilain gave him a cheerful grin. “Do we ever?”
“No,” he said with disappointment.
Deckard glanced at Evylin, standing at his side. For the moment, things felt as they used to. The distraction of the Keep wouldn’t allow for worry about the divide between them or their parting words. She held the Night sword, eyes trained on the iron door.
“Are you ready?” Deckard asked.
A slight smirk brought the dimples to her cheeks. “Probably not,” she said lightly.
“We’ll be fine,” he said, drawing his sword. “We always are.”
The Calders spoke their benediction, “Into the fray,” and Auden lifted his hand, setting it on the Time Keep’s door. It hissed before releasing the lock. Then, slowly, it swung open.
The seven of them rushed into the Keep, ready to dash for the Chamber. White engulfed them in their first steps. At first, Deckard thought they’d entered a snowy tundra. He looked up, expecting snowfall, but all that stretched above them was more white and pillars of alabaster. He furrowed his brow, realizing that all of it was glass. The slick floor under their feet, the never-ending ceiling and walls, the pillars that stretched into eternity—they were formed of milky white crystal.
Stepping farther into the Keep, Deckard tightened his grip on his sword. His magic thrummed within his head like a pulse. He listened carefully for the hum of the Shades, ready for their appearance. His eyes roved over the long glass room, catching sight of another pillar far in the distance with a small black mark on its face—the entrance to the Chamber.
Deckard gestured toward it. “We should run for it,” he said.
Silence met him.
Deckard frowned, then turned around. Immediately, he gasped, his mind reeling.
Though he’d only taken a few steps forward, somehow, he was ahead of the rest. Auden and Ilain were staggered, positioned nearer the stairs and in mid-stride, moving as ifthrough water. Thom and Rafferty stood on the top step, completely still. Evylin and Ethenn were missing.
