Find your own truth s-3 Read online

  The space before him seemed translucent, as though the air itself were solid. A fugitive gleam dwelt within the darkness, scattering light across the spectrum. It had to be the opal McAlister had said would be here. The guide hadn't been a magician, but he had been savvy enough to realize that an opal so well protected would have magical potential beyond any ordinary open.

  Sam could feel the barrier's energy almost physically, but he knew it could only be countered with magic. Seating himself before it, he shifted to astral perception. He had expected the barrier to glow with power; instead it was dark like the entrance. Unlike the entrance it sucked at him, drawing at his energy.

  Sam thought about calling the spirit of the place to question it about the barrier, but a raggedness on the periphery of his astral vision reminded him of the chaos of the Outback. Would the spirit come? And if it did, would it be warped like the land of which it

  was a part? It might prove more dangerous than the barrier.

  Deciding to tackle the barrier directly, Sam began a power chant to center himself and gather his strength. The rustlings of his companions receded from his awareness, but he felt every irregularity of the surface on which he sat. The soft movement of air through the cavern whispered to him in distracting, almost-understood entreaties. He blocked out the distraction.

  Armored in his power, he changed his song, reaching out with a shining astral hand to touch the barrier. Motes of light leapt from his fingers to squirm and merge into fragile threads that traced a lattice of energy and revealed the structure of the barrier. The air in the cavern rose to a breeze, then to a wind. It howled forlornly, like a dog bereft of its master. Sam ignored it and concentrated on the pattern.

  When he was sure that he understood the barrier's structure, he tugged experimentally on one of the strands. It gave to his touch and the lattice shifted slightly into a minutely different arrangement. Sam felt satisfaction. He tugged another strand, harder this time, and the lattice shifted as he willed. He set to work opening the way for the four of them.

  Some time later, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Raising his head, he looked up into the brown eyes of Gray Otter. Her expression was worried, and he smiled to reassure her.

  "The gate is open."

  She looked disbelieving, and turned her head to stare at the darkness. He followed her gaze. The passage didn't look any different. The darkness still ate the flashlight's beam. But Sam knew better.

  He got shakily to his feet. He was tired; dealing with the barrier had taken a lot out of him, but he had done what was needed. Assured that there would be no hindrance, he walked forward. For a few meters the air seemed thick around him, dragging slightly at his movements, but then he was through into fresher air that smelled of evergreen.

  Beyond the barrier the cavern opened into a large chamber, whose floor sloped down to a central pool that stretched from wall to wall and separated them from the far wall. Everything was underlit by a luminescence that seemed to emanate from the milky water, making darker still the pockmarks of water-worn cavities in the walls. A natural bridge of stone 8 stretched over the still waters. On the far side, three seams of opal cut diagonally through the sandstone wall. The opal gleamed with a thousand colors, bright II beyond what might be expected from light reflected from the pool.

  Sam felt his facial muscles tug into a smile. McAlister had been right: Behind the barrier was a lode of opal. This was what he had come for. Those stones 5 held the power he needed.

  Jason was the first to follow him through the barrier. The Indian came through ready for trouble, but drew up short at the beauty of the cavern. Gray Otter nearly bumped into him when she came through. Then both were crowded forward when Harrier followed. The Australian whistled low and long as his gaze settled on the seams of opal.

  Sam started down the path toward the pool. When he reached the relatively flat area at the edge of the water, Jason cut past him. A few strides more and the Indian skipped a step and spun in the air. He continued walking backward as he mounted the bridge. At the top of the arch he actually smiled pleasantly and taunted Sam.

  "Always putting me down about wanting money, Anglo. Like it's some kind of disease. Then you haul off after a chairman's ransom without spilling a word about what you're after. Afraid of too much competition? Or embarrassed to have people know you're just like them? The Ghost will love hearing about this."

  Behind Jason, a creature out of nightmare rose silently from the depths of the pool. A broad crocodile head topped the three-meter neck, but no crocodile had ever had such large golden eyes, nor such long, lanky limbs, nor furred paws armed with needle claws. The creature rose until its shoulders were level with the bridge. Its lean, armored body was ropy with muscle. If it had hind limbs, they did not come into sight.

  Perhaps Jason saw the horrific shape reflected in Sam's eyes, or perhaps he felt the terror the thing radiated. Whatever the case he spun about, raising his Predator, but his enhanced reflexes were not fast enough. The creature lashed out with a black-taloned paw. Claws shredded through Jason's flak jacket to scrape shrieking across the carbon-fiber plates embedded in his skin. The implanted armor was all that saved the Indian from being gutted by the monster's attack. The impact of the blow twisted him back around to face Sam. As Jason staggered backward, his left foot came down in empty air. In a desperate bid to regain his balance he threw his body forward, just as the beast hissed and snapped its snakelike neck forward. Gaping jaws thrust at the Indian. The creature missed biting him but its snout bumped Jason, toppling him over the edge of the bridge.

  Shocked by the sudden attack, Sam was slow to react. His companions were not. Braced in a formal firing stance, Gray Otter opened up on the beast. Harrier fired as well, screaming wildly as he emptied the clip of his SCK 100 submachine gun into the creature. The concentrated fire ripped into the beast at the juncture of its neck and body, slicing down into its right shoulder. Tattered muscle failed, and the monster's limb dropped limp to its side. It screeched its pain and dove.

  From his vantage near the pool, Sam could see the beast's dark shape just beneath the surface as it crossed under the bridge. The shadow flowed as he watched.

  The beast's neck and forelimbs shortened and its body grew broader.

  The creature's shape was still shifting as it breached, its momentum carrying it partway onto the shore. Bony armor now covered its skin, and its vicious head was that of a giant cat. The dark maw revealed row upon row of sharklike teeth as it snapped at its nearest tormentor. Gray Otter barely managed to scramble away from its attack.

  When it raised its right forelimb to slap at the woman, Sam was appalled to see that the limb showed no sign of injury. The paw, now a clawed flipper, caught Gray Otter and sent her tumbling. She hit hard and lay still.

  Harrier ran up next to the beast. He was still screaming incoherently, but he had changed clips and was pumping fire into the beast's side. When it swung its head toward him, he ran away shrieking.

  Harrier's distraction bought Sam time to collect his wits. Such a magical creature was best fought with the aid of a spirit, but remembering the chaos that haunted this land, he dared not summon one. Tired from the effort of breaching the barrier, he would have to rely on his limited skill at sorcery. Running through the spell chants he knew, he despaired at how few were oriented toward combat. This great beast would not be easy to affect. He gathered his power, readying a stunbolt. If he could slow the creature down, he would have more time to prepare a more potent spell. If he could think of one.

  He spoke the words, and cast his arm forward as a physical focus to channel the energy. The beast bellowed, shaking its head in confusion.

  Then, like a gore-soaked revenant, Jason struck.

  The Indian leaped onto the creature's back, clamping his knees into its neck. Augmented muscles drove fighting spurs deep, grinding past the beast's dermal armor to slice flesh. Again Jason thrust, seeking the vital arteries supplying the creature's brain. It screeched and buc
ked but the Indian held on, howling with berserker glee. Clawed flippers raked back to flay skin from Jason's thighs.

  The creature thrashed and began to change again. Its body became more sinuous, allowing it just enough reach to slam an expanded flipper-paw onto Jason's shoulder. The Indian folded over backward, spine snapped. The beast arched further, flinging the body free in a welter of blood and entrails. Jason's corpse splashed into the water and sank.

  Freed of the fear of injuring Jason, Sam unleashed the arcane energy he had gathered. Barely controlled, the mana swirled away from him and coalesced into a ragged bolt of energy that ravened toward the monster. The creature screamed as the half-focused mana tore at its being, ripping through its essence and scattering fragments like sand before a storm wind.

  Twisting in agony, the beast threw itself back toward the water. Its outline flowed and its proportions shifted as it jerked and flailed ineffectually. It seemed caught in a transition state, unable to take a definite action or even a definite form. The monster crashed back into the pool.

  Sam watched it sink until its dark shadow was lost from sight. Without expecting an answer, he asked, "What in hell was that thing?"

  "Bunyip," Harrier said shakily. Then he giggled, showing that he was still close to hysteria. "Say what?"

  "Bunyip," the Australian repeated. "It's a beastie hereabouts. Ain't never seen one before." "Then how do you know this was one?" "Bunyip's a shapechanger. Lives in water and is very nasty. I figure that fit the bill. You took him out pretty good. You're one hot wizboy."

  Sam ignored the praise. He had failed to defeat the beast before it killed Jason. Over the Australian's shoulder, he could see Gray Otter kneeling by the edge of the pool. She was crying.

  "Come on," he said to Harrier. "Let's go get the prize."

  Harrier nodded enthusiastically and followed him across the bridge. The Australian spent most of the crossing scanning the water. Twice he stumbled and nearly knocked them both into the pool.

  The far side of the pool was broader than the space from which they had fought the bunyip. Its surface was rougher, too, with small outcroppings and hollows scattered about. The area sloped gradually up to the wall seamed with opal.

  "Cor," Harrier said, his eyes caressing the iridescent brilliance of the rock.

  Sam noticed that several of the outcroppings on the floor were also tipped with opal. Near the center, a flat-topped chunk of dark rock projected almost a meter from the floor. On its surface lay a single opal crystal of surpassing size.

  Harrier at his heels, Sam approached the dark pedestal. Unlike the other gems this was a fire opal, a far more precious kind. The eight-centimeter stone looked as though a great flame burned in its heart. Sam held his hand close to it without affecting the bright glory of the gem's brilliance.

  Harrier reached to take it.

  "No!" Sam could sense the power of the stone. "Don't touch it. For it to have maximum ritual potency, I must gather it myself."

  Harrier stepped back, seeming frightened by Sam's intensity.

  "Sure, Mr. Twist. It's all yours. There's plenty here for everybody.''

  Sam ignored the Australian's blathering. He touched the stone and was only mildly surprised to find it warm. It was truly a stone of power. He tried to lift , but he could not get a grip. His fingers seemed to slide from the surface.

  He cupped his hands to either side and concentrated. The world around him receded until Sam was aware only of the pulsing stone and himself. Slowly he brought his hands together, cradling the opal between them. His fingers tingled as they touched the oily surface. Focusing his concentration more sharply, he exerted his will on the stone. Wind whipped through the cavern, sighing through the holes worn in the stone with a frightening whelp. It shifted slightly.

  The great gem seemed reluctant to move. Carefully Sam turned it in his hands, assuring himself that it was free before easing it from the hollow in which it rested. He sensed the vibration before he heard the rumble from deep in the earth. A craek appeared in the top of the blackish stone and raggedly curved away from the hole where the opal had nested. A second crack appeared, then a third. More followed, until eight fissures radiated from the nest. The cavern shook. Sand and small particles rained down. A soughing moan breathed through the chamber.

  But the floor didn't drop away, nor did a huge boulder come rolling in to smash him. The moaning died away and the rumbling softened and stilled. Before his eyes, the seams of opalescence in the wall dimmed. Silence and calm returned to the chamber.

  His prize in his hands, Sam rose shakily to his feet. With a whispered prayer of thanks, he turned his back to the opal-streaked wall.

  "Where are you going, Mr. Twist?" Harrier asked. "There's lots more."

  Staring at the gem, Sam answered, "This is all I'll need. I'm not sure I can handle even as much power as I feel in this stone." "But you can't get back without me."

  Sam smiled. "You and Mudder aren't the only ones who ever learned to navigate."

  Across the pool Gray Otter's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed as her face took on a calculating expression.

  "But there's a bleeding fortune here just waiting to be gathered," Harrier whined. "I didn't come for money." "Well, I bloody well did. There's enough opal here to let us all live like bosses of the biggest megacorps. You can't just walk away from this."

  "I can and I will. I have more important things to do than grub up money." Sam walked to the bridge.

  By the reflection in the pool, Sam saw Harrier scramble to his feet and point an accusing finger. "That's why you're walking out with a bleeding fortune in your hands."

  "I'm walking out with someone's salvation," Sam said. He crossed the bridge.

  "Tarring up your words don' change the truth. I walk away now and I'm leaving behind all the wealth I've ever dreamed about.''

  Sam trod up the path from the pool. "You know the way here now," he said wearily.

  "Cor, mate. That don't do me no effing good." Sam turned to find Gray Otter on his heels. He nodded to her. To his surprise, she smiled back.

  Harrier demanded his attention with a curse. "You owe me, Twist. I couldVe been killed here. You owe me."

  "The pay you agreed to is in escrow in Perth." "Perth!'' Harrier slammed his hat to the floor of the cavern. "Cor! I won't be able to come back once you close that fragging magical gate."

  "That's true, but you will be able to leave here whenever you want. I sensed that in the spell that makes the barrier. So dig to your heart's content. We'll leave you one of the Mules and enough supplies for a few days. That should give you enough time to gather more than enough opal to make you rich. Of course, the bunyip might come back."

  Harrier eyed the pool. It looked still as still as it had before the bunyip had erupted from it. With a shiver, the small man scurried across the bridge to join them.

  Urdli knew something was wrong even before he emerged from the rock through which he traveled. He could feel that the mana form surrounding the hold had been disturbed. As was proper the inner ward opened for him, but as he passed through he sensed that it had been altered. There was trouble. He didn't know the seriousness of the situation until he had pulled himself through into the mundane world, and the wan opaline glow cast his spindly shadow across the capstone. It was empty.

  "Purukupali! O Great Creator, how could you have made such a fool?"

  Urdli felt his skin burning with anger. A few other guardian stones had also been pried from their wards, but most remained in place. This had been a haphazard looting, an ignorant destruction of the ancient balances. Whoever had done this had not even known what he was doing.

  The sundered capstone was a bad sign, but he still had a small hope that the opening of the door had gone unnoticed by the ancient spirit. Perhaps it had not yet reclaimed the portion of its power that lay entombed here, giving him a chance to block the opening until he could gather others to seal it again. If he probed the well and the spirit was awake and aware
, it would try to take him. He feared that he was not strong enough to deal with it by himself, but no one else was here. If he took the time to summon others, the chance would likely be lost.

  He hesitated. He had no desire to become a pawn of the enemy. Old as he was, he was not yet ready to surrender his life, or his freedom.

  Necessity was a strong argument, as was duty. But shame was a goad. He was the warder. If he made no attempt to set things right, his disgrace would know no bounds.

  Urdli called upon the great spirit of the Rock and wrapped himself in its protection. Here in this place of great power, the spirit was powerful. He felt as durable and strong as Rock itself. Strong enough? There was only one way to find out.

  He planted his feet, dug his toes into the stone to hold his body steady, and sent his spirit down into the well of the capstone. The way was filled with fairy cobwebs that fluttered as he passed. The place was empty. What had been constrained here was gone.

  Relief at not having to face that which terrified him warred with frustration at finding it gone. The proscribed power had escaped, and the old enemy would be stronger. But there might yet be time to prepare. With luck, it would focus its attention on other feuds before returning its envious and malicious eyes toward his own kind.

  Though his gathered strength might have been insufficient to deal with the old one, Urdli had no fear of the lesser inmates of the holding. He turned to the other wells of internment and found two of them empty, their occupants dispersed. Fortunately, the spirits still only stirred sleepily within the other wells. The long slumber imposed a lethargy on them that was to Urdli's advantage. Calling upon the power he held, he drove them back down into their dreaming. To seal the wells, he scooped opal from the wall seam and molded it in his hands to create new guardian stones. He set each in place with spells that made these stones replacements for the stolen ones. At least some of the problems would remain entombed here.

  The effort exhausted him. He released his hold on the Rock spirit and lay back to rest, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. When he awoke, he was hungry. There was no food to be had here, but he could drink from the pool. Crouching over it, he gazed down into the milky water. His reflection showed him a haggard face, dark eyes sunken into black pits of exhaustion that were obvious even against his dusky skin. He dispersed the disturbing image by dipping his hands into the water, but his worries remained. There was still much to do.