“Aurian!” Anvar was hurling himself forward, diving into the narrowing gap between stone and floor. The massive block plunged inexorably down, smashing Anvar into the floor with a jarring crunch that shuddered the walls.
“Anvar!” Aurian’s shriek tore her throat. Her Magelight went out, plunging her into darkness. Her mind reeled with hideous, unbearable visions . . . Anvar, pulverized beneath tons of stone . . . She collapsed against the wall, retching, choking on sobs—
And leapt about a yard into the air as a hand touched her shoulder.
“It’s me!” Anvar’s strangled voice was almost lost in her squeak of fright.
“You! You can’t ... I saw . . .” Aurian found it impossible to get the words past her chattering teeth.
Anvar, it seemed, was having similar difficulties as they clung together, shaking. “Illusion,” he gasped.
Illusion? Illusion! Aurian’s Magelight rekindled, flaring fiery red as anger boiled up within her. She drew back, staring at Anvar’s ashen face. “You fool! You bloody idiot! I thought you were dead, damn you! How could you do such a stupid thing!” she stormed. Tears of shock and rage ran down her face and she dashed them angrily away.
Anvar grabbed her shoulders. “Because I’m not prepared to lose you again! I’d rather die, don’t you understand?” he yelled, his fingers digging hard into her flesh.
Oh. Aurian felt her anger draining away. She understood— she had felt the same way about Forral, She shook her head, unwilling to accept the implications. “Anvar . . .”
He looked away from her, biting his lip. “Never mind. Forget it.”
“If you two have quite finished!” Shia’s mental voice was a welcome distraction, but Aurian could tell from the steely tone that the cat too was angry at the scare they had given her. She was nowhere in sight; still hidden, presumably, behind the illusory block of stone. “How you expect anyone to get their thoughts through such a turmoil as you have been throwing up, I have no idea!” Shia went on irritably, “But since you’ve finally deigned to listen to me, have you anything constructive to suggest?”
Suddenly Aurian found herself giggling helplessly. That started Anvar off too, and they laughed together until their ribs ached and they were wheezing for breath. The little ball of Magelight, bright gold now, flickered and bobbed above Aurian’s head as though it too were chuckling.
“WELL?” The thunder of Shia’s voice finally sobere them.
“Sorry, Shia.” Aurian grinned at Anvar, speaking her thoughts aloud for Bohan’s benefit. “I suggest you walk straight through. The block is an illusion—as Anvar so conclusively proved!” She gave him a mock-fierce scowl.
Stunned silence from Shia, then: “Could I only curse, like you humans!” Though the words came from her mind, they sounded as if they were spoken through clenched teeth. “We’re coming through!”
“No, wait!” Aurian’s cry was drowned in a grating rumble from overhead. There was an anguished howl—and Bohan came hurtling through the wall of stone, Shia a black projectile at his heels. There was a deafening crash, and the Mages clutched each other as the floor of the tunnel bucked and heaved beneath them. Clouds of dust billowed up, and tiny fragments of stone stung their skin.
As the dust began to settle, Aurian was relieved to see Bohan and Shia, safe. Coughing, she stretched out a hand to the block—and touched solid stone.
“It really fell this time!” Anvar sounded shaken.
“I think I understand,” Aurian murmured thoughtfully. “It’s a time trap, Anvar. What we saw, what we thought had hit you—” She groped for words. “It wasn’t an illusion. What we were seeing was the future.”
“But why? Surely if it was a trap, it might as well have fallen in the first place?”
“I’m not sure.” Aurian frowned. “Presumably, the Dragons would recognize their own magic, so it would act as a warning to them that the trap was there, and they should get through quickly. But any strange Magefolk, like us, who came blundering in—Well, if I hadn’t taken that extra step forward, I would have seen the thing falling and stepped back.”
“And we would have eventually discovered the illusion,” Anvar finished for her, “gone through, and—”
“It would have got us anyway. What a bloody devious people!” She was annoyed—and more than a little unnerved. “What kind of power must they have had, to play tricks like that with time?”
Aurian turned to the others, and was surprised to see the much rubbing his buttocks with one hand, and shaking an igry fist at Shia with the other.
“Are you two all right? Bohan, what’s wrong?”
Shia’s voice was loaded with disgust. “This lumbering ox wasn’t moving fast enough—so I stuck my claws in his backside!”
A strangled squawk from Anvar proved that he too had heard the cat’s words. Aurian found herself spluttering helplessly. Bohan’s indignant expression and Shia’s angry glare only made them worse. The Mages leaned against each other, helpless with laughter.
“But how did you know the stone was really falling this time?” Aurian asked Shia, when she had finally got her paroxysms under control. Now that they could both speak to her, the Mages had fallen into the habit of voicing their thoughts aloud. It made things much easier.
Shia sat, primly licking a paw, though her twitching tail betrayed that she too had been shaken by their near miss. “I didn’t. But cats never take chances!”
“Really, smart-paws?” Anvar retorted. “What about when you nearly went over the cliff, fighting that spider-thing?”
Shia glared at him. “That was different!”
“Oh?”
“Something has occurred to me.” Aurian interrupted the impending fight. “That awful howl we heard as you came through—was that you, Bohan?”
The big man looked perplexed.
“Well, it certainly wasn’t me,” Shia declared.
“But that means you can speak!”
Bohan opened his mouth, but nothing emerged. Aurian could see his face growing redder and redder with the exertion, and went to him quickly. “Don’t, Bohan. You’ll hurt yourself. Obviously the problem isn’t physical, but I’m too weary to try mind-Healing just now. I promise you, though, if we get out of this place, I’ll help you find your voice.” He smiled at her, but the longing, the hope in his eyes wrung Aurian’s heart. She patted his hand gently. “Let’s rest now. I think we all need some time to recover before we go on.”
This time, folly though it might have proved, no one even thought to suggest keeping watch. Careless in their weariness, unstrung by the shocks of the past hour, they slept like the dead, huddled close for comfort like lost children. When Bohan finally awakened Aurian, light had returned to the passageway, and the stone had lifted to open the tunnel behind them. The trap had been set once more.
They swallowed the meager remnants of their food and water, but their last meal was marred by a sense of unease. Had the stone reset itself? Or, horrifying thought, had someone—or some thing—crept up while they slept to renew the spell?
“Nonsense,” Aurian argued. “If anyone had been here they’d have let us know about it, you can be sure!” Nonetheless, there was a crawling between her shoulder blades that no amount of common sense could shake off, and looking at the others’ faces, she knew they felt the same.
As they went on, the tunnel began to straighten, its gradient growing steeper as they climbed. There were no more rooms now, and soon the very light began to change, as gradually the glowing amber veins in the stone were replaced by a constellation of many-colored gems that shone, like those in the desert below, with their own mysterious gleam. Soon the way was illuminated only by the flickering gemlight that surrounded them on all sides, as though they trod the starry paths of the Universe itself. “How beautiful it is,” Aurian murmured. “I’m glad we got the chance to see this, even if—”