“I just wish there was someone I could talk to, to find out what happened. And then try to figure out what’s happening now.”
And then I was staring at her.
Giancarlo. Giancarlo would know.
“You must learn to shield your thoughts, young Anders. Who is this Giancarlo, who you are thinking about?”
“He was my blademaster, and my father’s and uncle’s blademaster as well, or at least he knew them when they were young.”
“I can’t contact him for you, but if you like, we can try to scry him, and see where he is now, with the crystal ball.”
I nodded. “He is one of the few people from my past I feel I can trust now... And I’m sure he would speak the truth. He’s as honest as he is skillful with his sword.”
Marga smiled wearily. “Grab my hand then. This should be a lot easier than scrying your past and future.”
She reached out and took my hand, and the connection flowed through it. I stared at the ball, where a picture was forming, but there was something wrong.
Where had I expected to see Giancarlo? Training some other young man, maybe. Or at home with Ana. Somewhere bright and well-lit and healthy, full of the morning sunlight.
There was none of that.
The scene was dark, and I could barely make anything out.
I squinted at the ball but it didn’t help at all.
Marga groaned.
I looked down at the ball and again saw nothing but darkness. I turned back towards Marga and saw beads of sweat on her forehead, her eyes unfocussed, and then she groaned again.
Should I break the connection? Could I? Instead I looked back at the ball and saw the blackness again and could not figure out what was happening.
Look with your third eye.
I closed my two eyes and looked with my inner eye.
Everything exploded with light then. I saw blood red light everywhere in the ball, covering everything, blinding me. I couldn’t see Giancarlo. I couldn’t even tell where he was. All I could see was the blinding light, burning red into my mind’s eye.
I needed to break the contact and get out of there, but Marga’s hand squeezed mine tightly. I tried to loosen her grip but she held on. I heard her groan again then, and I wanted to open my two eyes and see what was happening to her. I wanted to be rid of this blinding red light that was eating into us, funneling up through the crystal ball.
I will always remember that light, and I will always remember Marga.
One moment she was there, and then her hand tightened. There was a burning smell, and then her hand went limp.
I opened my mouth then, but before I could scream, there was a great explosion, knocking me backward, and the red light went away. I found myself on my back, on some cushions, and I opened my eyes.
I didn’t need to look at Marga to know she was dead. You could feel the absence of her aura and it hurt. From far off I heard screams, and I knew somehow there were two boys running to us. They would be there soon. But they would arrive too late, of course.
I hurt all over and brought my hand to my head. I looked at my hand. It was blood red. I was confused. I thought I had been branded by the dark lord.
It was only when Marga’s sons arrived, bringing with them others, that I realized I was covered with blood, and only some of it was my own.
That was when I began to scream.
For the moment I just stared, and all I saw was the color red, the color of blood, the color of destruction.
Chapter XIV
I woke up in a strange pink room, with pink sheets, pink furniture, and just one small skylight in the ceiling with some kind of frosted glass that softened the sunlight. The room was so relaxing that I fell right back to sleep. My sleep was drugged and dreamless. It was not until I had been there several wee