Legacy of the Darksword - Margaret Weis [116]
Eliza turned to the bear, only to find its eyes closed. It was gently snoring. “Simkin!” she said, imploring.
The eyes snapped open. “What? Oh, pardon. Must have dozed off during that long harangue. As for me, what our cowturd-kicking friend says is absolutely true. I’m not to be trusted. Not in the slightest.”
The black button eyes glinted. The black-stitched mouth quirked. “Listen to Mosiah, the wise Duuk-tsarith. Now, there’s a trustworthy bunch. We are all ears, my friend. I could be, if I wanted, you know—all ears, that is. What is your suggested plan of action?”
Mosiah’s lips tightened. He said nothing, however. I am sure he was remembering that in that other life of ours, it was the Duuk-tsarith who had betrayed us. Simkin knew this, too. I could tell from the squint in the bear’s eye. He knew and he was laughing at us.
Eliza made her decision. “If the Technomancers are searching somewhere else for us, we should not pass up this opportunity to rescue my father and Saryon. We may never have another chance.”
“It could be a trap,” Mosiah warned. “Just as the Interrogator impersonating your mother was a trap.”
“It could be,” Eliza said calmly. “But if so, it really doesn’t matter, does it? We’re running out of time.”
“But which time? That’s the question,” Mosiah muttered.
Eliza hadn’t heard him. I did, and it gave me cause for thought.
“What about the Darksword?” she was saying. “Should we take it with us?”
“Too dangerous,” Scylla advised. “If they capture us, at least they won’t have the Darksword. We may still be able to use it to bargain our way out. Why not leave it here where it will be safe?”
“Out in the open?”
Scylla flashed the light around the cavern, halted the beam. “There’s all these rocks stacked up over here. We’ll hide the sword underneath them. Build a cairn over it.”
Eliza placed the Darksword on the cavern floor. She and Scylla gathered stones, began to build a cairn around it. It was like watching a video rewind. I saw them build the cairn up, whereas only moments before, I had seen Eliza and Father Saryon tear the cairn down. At this, my mind rebelled.
I hurried over to join Mosiah, who was standing silent, hands folded, watching.
“Tell me what is happening!” I signed frantically.
“Do you mean our little game of time hopscotch? I’m not sure,” he mused, sotto voce. “It appears that there is a time line running parallel to the one in which we now find ourselves. An alternate time line, for in that one Joram died twenty years ago and in this one it was Simkin, disguised as Joram, who ‘died’ at the hands of the assassin. But why is this happening? And if Scylla and Eliza are present in both worlds, why is it that you and I appear to be the only ones conscious of both worlds?”
“Do you know the answer?”
He shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, Reuven. I am sure of one thing, though. The Hch’nyv were coming in that other world. They’re coming in this one. As Her Majesty says, time is running out.”
I asked the question I had most feared asking. “Time ran out for us in that last world, didn’t it? We were all killed. I know, because when I try to catch a glimpse of that other life, I see nothing anymore. I only feel a great and terrible anger at those who betrayed us, and bitter sorrow over what will be lost.”
“You are right,” Mosiah said. “The dragon slaughtered us. I saw you die. I saw Eliza die. I saw my own death approaching. The one person I didn’t see, though, was Scylla,” he added. “Now, isn’t that interesting?”
I waited for him to continue, but he said nothing more.
I signed, “Do you think we’ve been given another chance?”
“Either that,” Mosiah replied, “or someone is being highly entertained by our struggles against the inevitable.”
We both looked at the bear, who was again slumbering contentedly against the stalagmite. And it may have been my imagination, but I thought I saw Teddy smile.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Strike me dead. I’m rotten.”
SIMKIN, UPON CHANGING HIMSELF INTO A TREE; FORGING THE DARKS WORD
The Darksword was buried under the