Lance of Earth and Sky - By Erin Hoffman Page 0,3

shoulders again, but there was only one possible answer he could give and retain any honor. “I'm in your debt. Anything I can create for you is yours.”

* I don't… like…being in here. *

Vidarian looked around in the waning light, then back at the glowing stone. “In the…prism key?”

* It doesn't feel like…myself. *

Ruby had never in her life hesitated, and here, as he could feel her mind brushing up against something that was not itself, Vidarian felt that strange feeling crawling up his spine again. And what she said next didn't help.

* I want you to get my body back. *

Vidarian felt his mouth open, then close. “I…it's…” Wordlessly he called up the memories again, showing her: first, their grief, then Vidarian's pledge to return her body to her ship, where it would surely be commended to a sea burial—and finally, the gryphon flight craft, carrying her away. His heart ached as he lived through those moments again.

* So you're saying it's with Nistra now, ten thousand fathoms. Is that a problem? * As she spoke, Ruby's water sense stirred from within the stone, calling to Vidarian's own. Surprised, he quashed his natural urge to reach back. Whatever of Ruby the “prism key” had absorbed, it had taken her elemental ability with it—and, like Vidarian's, hers had been magnified.

* There's not much I can do from in here, * she said, answering his thought. * I can feel it…bumping up against a wall… * And indeed, her magic seemed restrained, as if there were something there it couldn't break through. * That's why you've got to get me out of here. *

“But your body,” he said, breaking through his own blockade of denial at last, “how would we even…put you back inside it?”

* You're the Tesseract, * she said, lacing the title with friendly acidity. * You'll figure it out. *

It was now full dark, and the red light of the prism key cast the promontory in a bloody false sunset. Vidarian wanted to find any other request she could make of him, but knew there was none. “If that is what you ask of me, I am bound to it,” he said at last.

* Thank you. *

Fat drops of cold rain struck Vidarian's face and shoulders, calling his attention back to the fast-descended night. He raised his arms instinctively to protect his face, and Ruby's laughter echoed in his head. More drops splashed against his face, blurring his vision, as he stared down at the stone in irritation. Was it his permanent fate to have a woman laughing at him in his head?

* The world's eminent elementalist, and he covers his face with his hands in the rain? *

Well. Grumpily he extended his water sense, wrapping the raindrops into a glassy shield that absorbed or deflected their fellows. The balance was tricky, and the constant growling complaint of his fire sense was no help at all. “It feels wasteful to use it for such small purposes,” he temporized.

Ruby wasn't fooled. * The practice is good for you. *

“And since when are you the authority on magical instruction?”

He'd meant the quip lightly, but Ruby grew quiet, and a memory bubbled up out of the stone: white wings over the sea, a great talon raised in instruction, waves that responded to its command—and Ruby, just a girl, swallowed in awe and a terrible sadness.

“I…” Vidarian began.

* It's nothing, * Ruby cut him off. * I don't know what came over me. * And indeed she seemed disturbed by the sudden disclosure of memory. * I guess I'm not used to being a telepathic rock. *

He didn't press further, instead foraying into the forest, downhill toward the camp.

Just to prove he had a handle on his own abilities, Vidarian summoned a sphere of fire energy, a ball of orange light and warmth that lit his path and evaporated the remaining rain from his skin and clothing. For good measure he gave it its own separate water shield, and the overall effect was rather pretty. Ruby did not comment, lost in her own strange gem-encased thoughts, and so he made the hike back toward the camp in silence.

Soon the camp torches glowed through the screen of trees, and when he stepped into the camp at last—dispelling his shields and light, for Altair had protected the entire area with a sphere of rain-repelling air—Isri and Altair looked up at him with relief. The welcome in their eyes assuaged some of his guilt, but