The Pullian Legacy: Sands of the Saurnel

By Ron Boorer

In Ron Boorers third book in his exciting adventure fantasy series, The Pullian Legacy, Emon realises he has no other option but to use the piece of the orb he has in his possession to find the next piece, but fears that by using it he will reveal his location to his enemies. Feeling the pressure of the constant hunt for them, Emon knows they will continue in their pursuit, but with greater effort than before. Neither he nor Serima have ever encountered the heights of fear they feel now as they begin this part of their journey. They need to find the next piece of the orb and this has become more urgent. Emon is concerned there is an element of manipulation growing in the background. Who is trying to manipulate them? What will they face around the next corner and what obstacles will they encounter? They will only find this out as they progress in their quest for the next piece of the orb. It is still a matter of survival at all costs but there is more at stake now than ever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Mar 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514446249

Ron Boorer

The author presently resides with his wife in a small town in the province of Otago in the South Island of New Zealand. This is his first book and one of a series of four books, all coming from a vivid dream he had several years ago. These books have been written over several years while living in Christchurch prior to that city being badly damaged by a series of earthquakes. He has taken this as an opportunity to start a new life and to pursue a different career path.

Book preview

Chapter One

The sudden flash of white light was too much for my eyes. I shut them and squeezed my eyelids tight to try to reduce the glare, but it made no difference. I felt the light from Men Ath’s half of the orb as it began to flood into me through my eyelids, and I knew I was unable to stop it. The half of the orb quickly became very heavy, almost too heavy for me to hold, but I could not let it go. My mind felt like it was slowly being drawn inevitably into it, just like a moth to a flame. I began to panic as I fought against the power of the orb, but it was no use. Then a soft, gentle thought entered my mind. It was from a woman, a very old woman.

‘Don’t fight it, my child. We have been waiting thousands of years for you. You have no reason to fear us. All we want is to be one, to be whole again, and we know you are the one who will do this. After all, you are of our blood. Now use my orb, the orb of the past, but use it wisely.’

The thought was calm, friendly, and motherly, reminding me of my old grandmother, but it was considerably older, wiser, and much stronger. What did she mean by ‘we’? Were there more than one? I thought to myself. And what did she mean by ‘you are of our blood’? The thought from the old woman exuded power and strength, so I did as I was told and stopped resisting. As I controlled my panic, I began to relax. As I did, the intensity of the light slowly faded until I was able to open my eyes. All I could see was a swirling white cloud, but as I looked harder, I found I could see Serima through the cloud. She was less than a metre away from me, not beside me as she had been. She was now off the ground and seemed to be moving away from me in very slow motion. It was as if she was only just moving and no more. Her mouth was wide open in a scream, but I could hear no sound. The waves in the background were almost stationary, caught in the motion of breaking before crashing on to the sandy beach. I glanced up and noticed that the seagulls appeared to be almost stationary as well. It was as if time had almost stopped, and I felt as if I was inside the orb looking out. It was like looking outside through a concave window, creating a distorted appearance of the outside world. My attention was quickly brought back by another thought.

‘You must concentrate. You have little time and a lot to see! He who desires to control us can already sense you are using this part of the orb. He wants what you have with the inhuman desperation of something locked in hell, and he believes this is his only way out. He believes he needs one more piece before it will be of any use to him. He is already preparing to send some of his people this way to retrieve this piece.’

The thought was considerably stronger now. My mind was inside the orb, but in the background, I felt another thought. This one was more of a penetrating shrill scream of anguish, and it was definitely a male, even though it was not human. An involuntary mental shudder passed through me as I felt it like a sharp stabbing pain in my mind. It was changing from anguish to something that was more aggressive and angry, but I could sense the control and strength from the old woman as she deflected most of it from me.

‘You will not be ready to face him until we are whole. I see you have already realised there are three pieces to find, not two as he thinks there are. That is an advantage for us, so he must never know about the last piece until it is too late.’

Her thoughts came through as she drowned out the other, but I could still feel its anger in the background as it continued to grow in intensity, while I began to follow the lead of the old woman’s thoughts as she began to guide me through time.

‘Concentrate and allow your mind to move quickly down through the layers of time, but you can only go back in time to what you seek and no further. I will block all the earlier layers of time.’

That sounded ominous as I opened my mind. Suddenly, I felt as if I was swimming in a thick fog. There seemed to be nothing obvious, so what was I missing? Another thought came to me as she continued to guide me.

‘Stop for a moment. You are rushing through time too fast, and you will see nothing unless you slow down. Do not push so hard. Just allow yourself to float through time. When you do that, you will enjoy the experience. You will come to the time in the past that you want to seek quicker than you realise. While you are doing this, it will appear that normal time in the outside world will slow down until it is almost stopped. You may have already noticed this.’

I struggled to understand what she meant. Then it became more obvious as I made myself float in the fog. As I floated, the fog cleared, allowing me to see a land, but where and when in time was I? I had a feeling I was floundering, not knowing what I had to do next, when another guiding thought came through.

‘Think about the time you are seeking. Don’t look for it. It is important you think about the place or person you want to find or go to, and it will happen.’

I started to concentrate my thinking on Worn Ath and the Emerald Veil. I concentrated on both of these, and things started to happen quickly. I had a feeling of moving fast through time, as everything became a blur, but in the background of my mind, I felt the old woman’s thoughts as she coaxed and guided me.

‘Good, you learn fast. Keep concentrating and you will soon see all you need to find what you seek. He who seeks us will not see what you see. This will be to your advantage. You will soon know where you have to go.’

The sensation of speed stopped instantly as I found myself looking down on the Emerald Veil. It looked as if it was during autumn by the colour of the foliage and grass. The bay and the waterfall were noticeably different, but I ignored these, as I watched a tall figure with long straggly hair walking on the shingle beach along the base of the cliff away from the waterfall. I willed myself down to him and closely scrutinised his face, especially his eyes. It was like looking at my own but much older. The eyes were the same as mine, dark blue with golden flecks, and he had very similar facial features, except he had a green tinge to his skin. I could only think this must have been from eating the moss growing in the cavern behind the Emerald Veil. It was definitely Worn Ath. I found I was able to manipulate time as I slowed him down until he was stopped in mid stride. In the back of my mind, I heard a whisper.

‘Excellent and well done.’

Now I was satisfied I had found him I had to learn how to speed time up. I willed myself back from him until he was a small figure walking along and then I began to move time at a faster rate until he was moving at a speed that made him look like a blur. I watched the small figure below me fly over the ground, only stopping to rest at night. I was able to compress time, so days felt like fractions of a second as Worn Ath moved southwards. When he stayed a night in the same bay we were presently staying in, I felt it was a little ironic. He left the bay as soon as it was daylight and travelled south for the next five days until he was unable to go any further; the terrain was too difficult for him to cross with deep gullies filled with dangerous fast-flowing rivers. After he tried repeatedly to cross these, he gave up and was forced to move further inland until he stopped trying to go directly south. He turned east to walk alongside a westward-flowing river, before leaving it, and heading into the rugged hill country towards the centre of Pullian. Several days after leaving the river and after he struggled over the rugged hill country, he came out on to a wide, flat, grass-covered plain. The grass was long, up to his waist, and had the dull yellow colour of autumn. The height and denseness of the grass made it appear as if he was struggling to walk through it.

Nearly ten days later, he came across a narrow dirt path coming from the north, heading south-east, and he followed it for the next three weeks until it reached a wide shingle riverbed. There was a deep slow-moving river in the middle of it, but this river, like the others he had come across since leaving the Emerald Veil, was too dangerous for him to cross, so he continued to follow the path beside it as it flowed eastwards. It was fortunate for me, as I was able to speed up and slow down time to suit me. The three weeks Worn Ath took following the path to the river went in only less than a second, as I quickly moved time forward. All the weeks I followed him, the sky seemed to be cloudless, just as I remembered it from my autumns in Nekfast. Unfortunately, I found I could only observe what was happening, and not sense anything like warmth, cold, odour, or sound. At this time of the year, the river was not in flood, but it was a shallow, fast-flowing braided river with many of its branches meandering their way through the wide shingle riverbed. I knew from my copy of Worn Ath’s map that the main river flowing to the east in this part of Pullian was the Roven River. It would eventually drain into the Great Inner Sea near the city of Rovfast. It was obvious that it flooded often, with debris covering the grass plain as far as I could see. It appeared that at least once a year the plain would be completely submerged in floodwater. I watched as Worn Ath rested by the river. He did not look well, and the distance he was walking each day was becoming less than the previous one. When he stopped to rest for the night, he appeared to be staggering with exhaustion, only to wake later each morning to eat some dried food from his backpack before struggling to his feet and carrying on.

The path continued beside the river, only to end two weeks later at a narrow footbridge near a large military fort built on a raised dirt mound. On the other riverbank, the bridge was guarded by two small guard towers. These were on either side of it, with a footbridge leading to the top of the mound. The mound was high enough to ensure the fort was above the highest flood line. This was the first sign of human habitation since I found him leaving the Emerald Veil. As soon as Worn Ath saw the outpost, he dropped down and hid amongst the long grass at the side of the track before crawling slowly through the grass until he was close enough to study the Troopers. They were dressed in an old style of uniform and armed with bronze weapons. It looked like the new ‘Hummers’ had not reached these remote outposts. It was obvious the Troopers guarding this river crossing were bored, lax and inattentive. Several of them were asleep, lying in the late afternoon sun on the side of the dirt mound below the fort, while those guarding the bridge were leaning against the handrails talking to each other. Not one of them was looking at the side of the river where Worn Ath was. On the other side of the bridge was a wide dirt road lined with tall marker posts. The road led away from the fort as it followed the river eastward. Worn Ath stayed hidden in the long grass until it was dark, then stealthily walked through the grass and followed the river for another week. He appeared to be reluctant to cross the river using the bridge, but on the sixth day, after bypassing the bridge, he came to another river flowing out of the grass plain from the north, but this river was deep and fast flowing, making it impossible to cross safely. He had no option but to turn around and walk back to the footbridge.

He arrived back at the footbridge at dusk several days later, and he stayed out of sight until it was completely dark and crept over the bridge quietly, passing the sleeping guards stationed in their small guard towers. Once across, he walked quietly eastward along the road away from the outpost.

Now that he was safely past the outpost, he became more careful and only travelled at night in the moonlight, sleeping during the day in the long grass beside the road. The dirt road continued to follow the river. It was obvious Worn Ath was not well, and he was steadily getting worse. For almost a month he travelled slowly, bypassing farms, also built on earth mounds. Built against the mounds were large earth walls enclosing fields of grass and late harvest crops, so he occasionally raided these to supplement his meagre food supplies. These farms became more common the further east he went, with large herds of cattle grazing on the broad expanse of grassy plains. The land appeared flat and featureless, except for the farm mounds and walled fields, but the further east he went, several narrow cart tracks from the south joined the road. These cart tracks became more regular, and the dirt road was obviously being used more. I could see several groups of farms in the distance, and in the far distance, a small village could be seen behind an earth wall. Worn Ath continued walking carefully and slowly along the road during the hours of darkness, taking care as he waded through the occasional ford where shallow rivers and streams flowed across the road to feed into the Roven River. Bridges over these were relatively rare. While it was daylight, he rested and slept whenever he could. Worn Ath was wise travelling at night so as not to be seen, because during daylight along this road, there was now a definite increase in the number of farmers and merchants walking or leading small carts in both directions. No one noticed Worn Ath as they passed him sleeping amongst the long grass near the road. I lost count of the nights Worn Ath travelled until in the early hours of a morning, just as the first sign of dawn began to lighten the night sky to the east, I noticed there was a major town surrounded by a tall, wide brick dyke straddling the road. It was the first one he had reached since I started to follow him. I watched him stop as soon as he saw silhouetted in the pale light the high brick dyke surrounding the large town. The roofs of the houses could be seen high above the top of the dyke, and the houses appeared to be built off the ground. As he watched, I noticed several pairs of Troopers walking along the walkway on the top of the dyke. It did not take Worn Ath long before he saw their outlines against the eastern sky, and before he was seen by them, he moved off the road to a dense clump of grass where he hid and slept.

During the next day, as he slept, a large squad of Troopers left the town from the barracks heading west. They looked like they were going towards the outpost to relieve the guards. I took the opportunity to use the daylight while Worn Ath rested and, before I sped up time again, to study the dyke surrounding the town. To the east of the town, another wide river joined the Roven River, doubling its size as it continued to flow towards the east. The town itself was surrounded by a large, wide brick dyke. The road Worn Ath was following went over the dyke through the town and then over the dyke on the other side of the town to another road. This road led to a wide stone bridge built over the Roven River upstream, from where the other river joined it. There was a well-used brick-lined road heading eastwards from the bridge. The plain on that side of the river was at the same level, but it in the distance, it began to rise up into low hills. From here, the road went east across the rolling countryside, ideal country for farming, and there were numerous farms dotted throughout the hills. I moved over the town and studied it. It was a typical small Pullian town, even though I was looking at it in Worn Ath’s time. There were several hundred houses built inside the dyke in concentric lanes, but in the centre was the main square dominated by a Dreamager temple and army barracks. What was unusual about the town was the way the buildings were constructed. Every building was at least three storeys high, with the bottom storey having no doors or windows. Every building had ramps or stairs leading up from the lane to doors on the first storey. Between many of the houses were cultivated gardens, but these were built over the lanes, creating long tunnels. I willed myself to swoop down and found I could move through solid walls, so I was able to inspect the bottom storey. Each house was built on a basement containing a huge water tank and a large room for food supplies. It appeared that each house collected rainwater from their roof and stored it for their own use. I realised later, when the first floods arrived, why they did this. I moved on from the houses to the Dreamager temple and read the name over the entrance: Lysme. So this town was called Lysme, a town I had never heard of before. I moved back to watch and speed up time once again. As day instantly turned to night, I slowed it down again and watched Worn Ath stagger to his feet. He collapsed twice and was violently sick before slowly moving on to the road. He walked slowly to the brick dyke and then stumbled, unnoticed, over it and followed the main road to the second lane leading from it; he followed this, checking the wall beside the stairs on several of the houses, before he found the one he was looking for. He crawled up the stairs and stood up as he knocked on the door. An old grey-haired man opened the door and Worn Ath collapsed into his arms. I watched as he was dragged inside. The old man quickly glanced up and down the lane to see if anyone had noticed Worn Ath arrive, before quickly shutting the door.

Chapter Two

Worn Ath must have been very sick, as he stayed in that house without venturing outside for more than four months. I sped up time and watched as heavy rain fell for two months, as the snow covering the distant hills began to thaw, slowly flooding the countryside with well over a metre of slow-moving dirty water. I now understood why the town collected the rainwater for drinking! It was interesting to watch the townspeople take turns to pump out any water building up inside the town, while others opened the inspection doors in the dyke to check it for any leaks. That was when I realised that the dyke was actually hollow. Once it stopped raining, it was another three months before the grassland slowly drained, leaving a thick layer of silt everywhere. I watched in amazement that as the water drained from the grassland, most of the inhabitants of the town came out on to it, some with bullocks and large wooden blades to drag the silt into huge mounds, while others brought out mobile kilns and mixers. Over the next week, these mounds were mixed with some form of white powder that they emptied out of large bags. These mounds were mixed and then shaped and baked into bricks. A few of the bricks were used to repair any damage to the dyke, but most of them were taken south-west of the town where another dyke began to take shape. It appeared that they were extending the town. All this happened as I moved through time until the first winter snow fell, covering the town in a white layer. I still had not seen Worn Ath, and I was concerned, so I willed myself into the house, only to find him resting by the warmth of an open fire. His skin had lost the green tinge, but he was very thin. An elderly woman was slowly feeding him a bowl of thick broth. It was going to take him many more weeks to regain his health. I sped up time while watching the winter pass as spring finally came to the grasslands, creating another flood, as the snow melted from the distant western highlands. Again, the townspeople climbed over their brick dyke to collect the silt to make more bricks for the extension. It was almost two days later, after the last of the snow had melted, when Worn Ath finally left the house with the old man, but this time, he left Lysme on the seat of a wagon as part of a long convoy of wagons filled with bricks and other supplies to trade. They left Lysme and followed the brick road to Rovford before carrying on to Rovfast. It took them several weeks to reach this small city. Rovfast was built on the bluff overlooking the mouth of the Roven River, which poured into the Great Inner Sea of Pullian. Lining the small harbour were a series of docks built alongside the river where several small sailing ships were tied up waiting to load supplies for Crun. It was near one of these docks that the wagons were unloaded into one of the warehouses built close by. Worn Ath left the wagons once they were unloaded and did not wait to help them reload the wagons with the bags of white powder for the making of their bricks.

He stayed in Rovfast in a small tavern close to the harbour for several days, before joining another convoy of wagons heading south-west and left with them the next day. Worn Ath seemed to have a definite destination in his mind as I followed him. In real time, the convoy must have taken over two months to travel from Rovfast to his intended destination, but it was amusing to speed up time and watch them as they appeared to fly along the road, stopping only to rest at night. The convoy was following an old well-used road across the rolling countryside and farms slowly gave way to more empty, grass-covered hills filled with grazing buffalo and deer. I sped up time even more as soon as I saw him leave the convoy to travel at a faster pace. It was obvious the convoy was proving to be too slow for him. At the same time, I had a feeling I was taking too long following Worn Ath, and time was critical. I would soon have to come back to the present time before the Dreamagers’ forces trapped Serima and me against the Great Western Ocean. I watched him hurry along the road and realised we were getting close to the southern coast of Pullian.

Based on the number of nights, I knew it was almost a month since he left the convoy of wagons, and I could now see the Central Ocean in the distance, while on my right in the far distance, there was the beginning of a large desert. I continued to follow as Worn Ath travelled towards a large town built on a steep-sided escarpment overlooking the huge desert. The land looked barren and dry, but there were several fields with large numbers of three-humped camels and mules grazing in them. The town looked as if it was in decline with many empty, semi-collapsed buildings on the outskirts. I moved quickly over the outskirts until I reached the town’s centre. Once I was there, I lowered myself closer to the ground so that I could try to read the name of the town. On the wall above the main door of the small Dreamager temple, which dominated the centre of the town, was the name ‘Turman’ painted in faded lettering. It was a town I had heard of before; I could not remember why I knew it, but it was from something I had read when I was forced to read the history of Pullian while studying as a Dreamager acromager. Beside the temple was a small army barracks with Troopers training behind its tall walls. The Troopers were like those in Lysme, dressed in old-style uniforms and still armed with bronze weapons. Worn Ath hurried through the town, bypassing the central square, to a stable built on the other side of the town near the edge of the escarpment. Attached to the stable was a small house where two men sat on the porch, talking, as they looked out past the escarpment and over into the desert. Worn Ath passed by the stable on his way to the men and sat down with them. They talked for the rest of the day before he followed them inside at nightfall.

The next morning, as soon as it was light enough to see, the main doors to the stable opened and one of the men led out a large three-humped camel and headed south towards the coast, while another one went into Turman with a large handcart. Worn Ath remained hidden inside and stayed there for the next three days until all the supplies had been collected. The second of the two men arrived back with a load of supplies later that day, but the one who went south did not return until late on the third day. Tied to the back of his camel was a small upturned green dinghy, which was taken directly into the stable. As darkness fell, the two men left the stable, only to return an hour later leading several more of these unusual camels. After this, it all went quiet for the night.

Just before dawn, I noticed light coming from the stable. It appeared that a lantern had been lit in the stable, and as the sun came up in the east, the doors of the stable opened. The two men led out the camels – these all had stores and supplies stacked high on special panniers hanging from their sides, except for the one still carrying the dinghy. For the first time in three days, Worn Ath left the stable, following the last camel. As soon as he was outside, one of the men locked the stable door, and they left, heading towards the escarpment along a well-used path. It was obvious they were taking Worn Ath into the desert. This could only have been at his request. The small caravan stopped briefly at a well to fill several large leather bladders with water, before carrying on for several kilometres along the edge of the escarpment until they reached a narrow defile. It had been cut into the escarpment leading down to the desert floor. It was only just wide enough for the loaded camels to walk down in single file.

Several hours later, the small caravan finally came out of the defile on to the beginning of a series of golden dunes at the beginning of the desert. One of the men took the lead, and they began crossing it, only to rest in tents during the heat of the day. Late in the afternoon, they packed up the tents and continued walking into the desert all the next night, before resting up again during the heat of the following day. It was unusual to see the wind blow from the west during the evening, creating a sandstorm for about three hours. Then there was no wind for the rest of the day and night. At dawn, the wind changed again, blowing from the east and blowing the sand back in another billowing sandstorm. I accelerated the time forward, and over the next few days, I watched them struggle into the sandstorms and noted they only stopped to set up their tents to be out of the heat of the sun during the day or when they reached an oasis to rest and to allow the camels to drink. I counted three of these oases, and it was obvious they were known to the men with Worn Ath. I saw several narrow but extremely high mountain peaks covered in dense cloud in the distance, and they appeared to be in the middle of the desert. The route the men were taking Worn Ath criss-crossed the desert from one oasis to another as they steadily headed towards these peaks. Somehow Worn Ath must have known about these mountain peaks before he came to this remote part of Pullian. He was following a plan, and they were an obvious place to head towards, as they would be an ideal place to hide Domi Ath’s half of the orb. I would have to take special note of where he hid it, as this may be my only chance to find it.

Impatient, I sped up time until they arrived at these peaks. The tall mountain peaks were surrounded by a series of low mountains with low green bushes and tall palm trees growing in the valleys, leading towards them. The mountain peaks were in a wide deep basin in the centre of the low mountains. There were eight major peaks of varying height and size, grouped in a circle in the basin, and they all had one thing in common: The tops of them were shrouded in thick billowing clouds. Hundreds of very small pinnacles of rock protruded from the basin floor inside the circle of these tall peaks. Most of these looked as if they were less than four metres tall. It was late afternoon as Worn Ath and his travelling companions arrived at the first of the low valleys leading up towards the tall mountain peaks, and they were now out of the sandstorm. They rested for the night beside a small pool, and the next morning, they continued on deeper into the low mountains. It took them until late the next day to leave the mountain valleys and to finally arrive at a plateau surrounding the basin. They continued to walk over the plateau towards one of the several old buildings grouped together at the far end. Once there, they unloaded their supplies into one of the buildings and released the camels to feed on the green foliage of the bushes growing near several pools of fresh water. As soon as this was done, Worn Ath left the other two to walk up the valley to the edge of the basin, but he went no further. Instead, he stood on the lip that was well over a metre above the basin floor, and I watched carefully as he picked up a large piece of rock and hurled it into the basin. The boulder landed with a muted splash, as if it had landed in mud, and then quickly sank out of sight. The basin was filled with a deadly mixture of sand and water, making it impossible to cross over by foot, and it looked as if it would be almost impossible to row over. He returned to the buildings and was then taken by one of the men several kilometres back into the mountains until they came to a sheer cliff face. It was an old disused opencast mine with thick green-coloured layers through the rock face. In the middle of the mine were piles of coal stacked beside small kilns, and once I saw these, I remembered my history. Except for the small amount of copper mined in Crun, Turman was the town where all the copper came from for making bronze weapons. It would have been a busy place before the crystals were found in the Pinnacle of Sighs and made into Hummer swords. After this, bronze weapons were banned by the Dreamagers, and they were melted down to make coins. Now all the copper and tin was mined in Crun. No wonder Turman was only a shadow of its industrious past, and the garrison was there to prevent any more copper being mined. This explained the green colour of the small dinghy, which was also made out of copper. It was starting to get dark as they left the mine and returned to the buildings. Above them, flashes of lightning scored the early evening sky as dense clouds were blown in from the south-east to build up into a swirling heaving mass covering the tall peaks. Worn Ath and his friends retired for the night, as rain began to fall heavily on to the plateau and the basin at the base of the peaks. I did not want to wait, so I jumped time forward to the next morning.

Next morning, most of the clouds were gone, and with them the rain. The pools in the valleys were filled to overflowing, as was the basin beneath the peaks. I watched Worn Ath with the help of his companions carry the dinghy to the basin and push it over the lip into the water. Worn Ath climbed into it and began to row towards the centre. Within a short time, he was out of sight of those on the lip of the basin as he rowed past the first of the tall peaks. Water was still running down into the basin as he continued to row until he was in the middle of the basin. He was now surrounded by the tall peaks, and I watched as he went from one to another of the small peaks protruding from the basin surface until he found what he was looking for. All this was done at high speed as I manipulated time, but I slowed it down until Worn Ath was motionless and moved down so I could closely inspect the peak he had selected. By the position of the sun high above him and the lack of any shadows from him and the peaks told me it was now midday. The level of the basin was dropping quickly as the water evaporated until it was over a metre lower than it was at dawn. The peaks high above were slowly being covered in cloud from the water evaporation from the basin, until, by early afternoon, it completely blocked the sunlight, casting a huge shadow over the basin and the plateau surrounding it. The peak Worn Ath had selected was similar to most of the others but was more rounded on the top. I made a mental note of its location and pushed time forward to condense the next few days into seconds. I watched as time sped by and the level of the water in the basin fell during the day, as the water was evaporated by the heat of the sun. By the next morning, it had raised back up to the lip, as it was refilled by the nightly rain. During all this time, I watched as Worn Ath carefully and methodically cut the top off the peak using a thin metal cord. He then took the peak top back to the valley, but he was only able to row back to the edge of the basin or to the peak when the basin was full. He had to wait during the night, but by now he had rigged a shelter over the boat so he could sleep in it. He gave the cone from the peak to the two men, who carried it away to the mine, he then went back to the pillar, and over the next few days, he cut a rectangular hollow out of the centre of the flat section of the peak, then four deep vertical holes in each corner of the hollow. I watched in amazement as he meticulously drilled horizontal holes in from the side to join the vertical hole. I occasionally left him to watch the other two at the mine. They were skilled craftsmen as I watched them make a lockable sealed copper box with a hole in each corner, and by using a small amount of tin that they had brought with them, they made four long, bronze rods. I could see them following plans etched into a small flat sheet of copper. They screwed the bronze rods into the cone that Worn Ath had given them, and at the bottom of each rod, they cut a threaded hole through each. When these had been finished, they made four threaded locking bolts and a spanner to fit the bolt ends with a t-shaped handle. Once they had finished, they made a long length of braided copper rope and attached it to the spanner. They had completed these before Worn Ath had finished preparing the hiding place for Domi’s half of the orb, so one of them left the valley and headed back to Turman with several of the camels loaded with small bars of copper. The other man continued to mine more copper and convert this into bars.

It took Worn Ath another three weeks before he was satisfied with the hollow and the interlocking holes in the peak. The next morning, he rowed back to the lip and collected the completed top with the bronze rods along with the copper box and the bronze bolts and spanner before he rowed back into the mass of peaks. The basin level was lowering fast as he finally reached the peak. It was obviously becoming harder to row over, as the water evaporated, and I began to think he would not make it before he became marooned, but I was wrong. He nudged the dinghy up to the peak, then tethered it to it. With the dinghy tied securely, he lifted the copper box up and placed it carefully into the hollow. It was a very tight fit, but he was able to push it down into place. With the copper box tight and secure in the hollow, he opened the lid. He then opened his backpack and took out a black crystal box. I watched with anticipation as he removed a black crystal key from a leather lanyard hanging around his neck and unlocked it. I was now watching with extreme interest and slowed time down until Worn Ath was moving very slowly as he opened the box to check the contents. I could see it was Domi’s black crystal box with his name etched into the lid, and sitting snug in the crystal box was his half of the orb gleaming in the sunlight. I could easily see it was different from Men Ath’s half. This half looked like it was almost as black as the crystal box. Once he was satisfied the orb half was intact and undamaged, he shut and locked the lid. He then placed the crystal box in the bottom of the dinghy and put the lanyard back around his neck before picking the crystal box up again. With the utmost care not to drop it over the side of the dinghy into the morass of liquefied sand, he placed the black crystal box inside the copper box. He then closed and locked the copper box. With great care he then attached the bronze key used to lock it to the cooper wire on the t-shaped spanner. He lifted the top cone of the peak out of the dinghy and slowly inserted the rods into the holes in the corner of the cooper box. They were a tight fit but with a little pressure the rods slipped down the holes as the cone slid smoothly into place on to the top of the rest of the peak. Worn Ath bent down and one by one screwed the threaded bolts into the holes in the side of the peak and tightened each with his spanner. As he tightened them the cone closed harder down on to the rest of the peak until the cut seemed to disappear. After checking each that each bolt was screwed in as hard as possible Worn Ath slowly filled each bolt hole with a thick quick drying paste until they too were almost invisible and then he allowed these to dry. He leaned back and checked his handiwork as a smile crossed his face. There were no obvious signs or clues to what this peak contained, so he sat down in the dinghy and waited. It was just going dark and beginning to rain, so I left Worn Ath as he settled down under the shelter of the dinghy for the night and jumped time forward to the morning.

As soon as light came, Worn Ath discarded his shelter over the side, then rowed to another peak close by where he looped the copper wire around it and pushed it down until it was well below the surface of the basin. He made sure it would still be below the basin surface when the basin was at its minimum height. Then he etched his signature faintly into this peak with an arrow pointing to the peak containing the copper box and down to the spanner hidden below the surface. He surveyed his handiwork, and with a small nod and a brief smile, he quickly rowed back to the lip. You could see the relief on his face now he had finished the task of hiding the halves of the orb. His shoulders straightened, and his head was held high as he rowed. The other man was waiting for him, and they pulled the dinghy out of the basin, then carried it to one of the buildings. An hour later, they reappeared and loaded up the camels. The dinghy was now hidden somewhere in the building. As I moved back to watch them leave, my concentration was interrupted by a powerful thought. It was from the same old woman.

‘It is time for you to return. You have seen enough. I will help you to pass back to the present. You have done well. I’m most impressed, child. Now think and concentrate on where and when you began using the orb.’

I reluctantly did as she asked and my sight suddenly dulled. as it appeared as if I was flying through dense clouds. I concentrated hard on the small bay and Serima, but, at the same time, I felt as if I had been following Worn Ath for months, even though I had manipulated time to suit my needs. Suddenly the clouds cleared.

‘We are back in your time. You can now safely take the orb half out of your right hand using your left one to do this.’

Before I took the orb half out of the palm of my right hand, I had a brief glimpse of Serima; she was still in the same position as I had left her, and she was almost motionless. I looked down as the fingers on my left hand closed around the glowing orb. As soon as it lost contact with my right hand, there was a blinding flash and then nothing.

Chapter Three

I opened my eyes and looked down at my hands. My right hand was red from where the orb had been sitting, but the orb was now nestled in my left hand. It looked like a harmless and inert piece of crystal, but I knew different. My attention was immediately drawn away from the orb half when I heard Serima calling out to me several questions so rapidly I had to concentrate to understand them.

‘Emon, are you okay? Did it work? Have you seen the past? Do you know where the other half is?’

I glanced up as she landed on her back in the sand. She was now several metres from me, and she was bleeding from scrapes and cuts to her arms from landing. I wondered how hard she must have landed to inflict those cuts and what caused her to be thrown that distance, but she was ignoring her injuries in her eagerness to find out if Men Ath’s orb had worked. I laughed as I placed the orb into its black crystal box and locked it.

‘Calm down. I’ll tell you everything I saw, but first, we must leave here as fast as we can. He knows I have used it, and his forces will be gathering as we speak. They will head in our direction as soon as they can, and I would not be surprised if some are already leaving,’ I told her as I stood up.

She raced over to me as I momentarily clutched my head. For a few seconds, the world seemed to spin, but this quickly left me as I leaned over and shoved the crystal box into my backpack.

‘You’re bleeding, Serima,’ I told her as she reached me.

‘Oh that. That’s nothing to worry about. I am more interested in what you found out, especially your comment about he already knows. What do you mean by that?’

I grabbed her arm and guided her to our camuls, Doth and Lumac, who were waiting patiently nearby, with Themus lying between them dozing in the early morning sun. The camuls were both loaded up with all our possessions and supplies.

‘I will tell you once we are moving,’ I replied.

It was going to be a sunny but cool day, though this was not what I was concerned about. My mind was in turmoil as I considered what we should do, but getting away from here was the first step. There was no way we could go any further west unless we could find a boat, but this was extremely unlikely with no one living here. There was also no time for us to build one, so I had to forget that as an option. I knew if we went south, we would be stopped by the terrain just as Worn Ath had been. If we went east, we could be heading directly into our pursuers’ path, and we had already come from the north, knowing that there was nothing there except for snow and ice. My original intention was to go south as quickly as we could, without them knowing. Serima was the ideal person to discuss these dilemmas with. What I was unsure about was how quick the Flaureni’s men would react and from which direction would they come. It would be too late to do anything by the time we knew this. We would be quickly surrounded and captured and then they would resort to torture to find out what they wanted, and I knew I could not stand to watch them torture and kill Serima. I could only hope Serima was right when she suggested the Flaureni would tell the Dreamager priests to avoid capturing us unless they had no other choice – especially if he thought I would lead them to the rest of the orb – but first, they would have to find us. While I was thinking about our options, Serima walked to the edge of the beach and washed her cuts and grazes. I watched her grimace as the seawater stung, but I knew she was right to clean them before they became infected. Time to move, I thought as I opened a pannier and threw her a strip of cloth to dry herself.

‘Come on, it’s time to go,’ I called out to her as she walked back towards me, drying her arms and face.

Serima just gave one of her smiles as we grabbed the camuls’ reins and led them off the beach up on to the flat tussock-covered land. Far to the east, the tops of several peaks from a distant mountain range, were silhouetted against the early morning sun. Themus was running backwards and forwards in his normal boisterous manner, showing his enjoyment of being on the move now we had started to walk quickly away from the beach. This was normal for him. He enjoyed being constantly on the run, allowing him to search and inspect everything on the way. Even though he was a highly trained hound, he was still a curious puppy at heart, often making us laugh at his antics, but today we ignored him, as I began to describe to Serima what I saw in the past. As I started to tell her, she interrupted me with one question.

‘Before you begin, can you tell me what our ultimate destination is?’ she asked, her eyes gleaming with the challenge that lay ahead.

‘We need to go directly south to a major desert, but south of here, the rough terrain and deep, fast-flowing rivers will make it impossible for us to cross,’ I told her as I glanced at her face as she thought about that.

‘That would be the Saurnel Desert. That changes everything. We can’t take Themus with us when we go into that. We need to find somewhere for him to stay until we have been there. I think we should make for the headwaters of the Roven River to find somewhere we can cross before it becomes impassable. From there we can go to the Thound kennels owned by Karan Tacaq in the hills outside Rovfast. This means we will have to go through Lysme with all the risks that entails.’ She pointed more to the south-east than east as she spoke.

‘We can easily lose anyone following us in the rough country between here and the grasslands surrounding the Roven River. It’s better than being out in the open on those flat grasslands. If we carry on eastwards on our present course, we will end up in open, flat country with nowhere to hide. If we go too far to the east, the only way over the Roven River is by a bridge. Here the river will be too deep and dangerous to for us to cross. The bridge has a large fort guarding it, and we could not go over it without being seen. They will be extremely vigilant and on their guard now, as they know we are somewhere in this vicinity. Their patrols will already be out combing the flat snow-covered grasslands for us. We have no option but to find a way across it to reach the grasslands further to the south so we won’t have to cross the Roven River. We also have to consider keeping below the snowline if possible, or we will leave a trail for others to follow.’

I nodded to her as we changed our direction from heading east to more south-east. I left it to Serima, as she seemed to have a better idea of the area than I had. All I had was what I had seen when I went back in time to follow Worn Ath’s travels hundreds of years previously.

‘Why are we going to the Thound kennels?’ I asked, curious to know what she was thinking.

‘Where better to hide Themus but in the kennels that bred him? Don’t worry about Karan Tacaq. He hates what happens to his hounds and has little time for the Dreamagers, but the Arch-Dreamagers accept that because he is the best breeder of thounds in Pullian,’ Serima replied as she whistled to Themus, who stopped to look at her, with his ears pricked forward. She gave him a command and he rushed off quickly, leaving us behind. He was now out scouting ahead of us. He had done this many times before and was highly efficient at it. With the decision on the direction we were to travel now decided, I could take my time to tell Serima what I had seen while using the orb half. I began from the time I transferred the orb half to my right hand. While I described what had happened, we increased our speed to a fast walk, only stopping every few hours to allow the camuls to rest. Serima never interrupted me or asked any more questions until I was finished. It took us most of the day for me to tell her everything in detail. At the same time, we continued to cross over the tussock-covered land, heading to a series of low hills to the south-east.

It was late afternoon when I finished describing Worn Ath’s travels to the Saurnel Desert. I knew she had many questions to ask, but she told me she wanted to hear all of it first. My throat and mouth felt dry and sore near the end, even though I had continued to sip water all the time I was talking. I finally went quiet, expecting Serima to ask a multitude of questions. I could almost see her mind working as she thought about what I had told her, but she resisted the temptation. It was obvious the questions would come later. With less than two hours until dusk Serima looked at the hills ahead of us and said, ‘We should carry on into the night, Emon. We should only stop if it gets too dark and dangerous to continue. I will ask you to explain what I found difficult to understand later after you have had a chance to rest your voice.’

She turned to me as I nodded in agreement. My throat was too sore to talk, and she knew it. Themus was still somewhere well ahead of us. All the time we walked, the land was gradually changing. The tussock had slowly given way to thick, tall grass, and at the same time, the flat countryside near the Great Western Ocean was now low rolling hills, similar to Urlok’s grasslands near the Emerald River. We walked quickly over these hills as we gradually climbed higher. When I looked back in the fading light of late afternoon while cresting a ridge, I could still just see the blue grey line of the ocean on the distant horizon before the sun finally dipped below it. Small streams flowed down the valleys towards the south, where it was obvious they poured into a larger river somewhere south of us. It was possibly one of the rivers Worn Ath was unable to cross, though there was a chance it would be flowing to the east. It went dark quickly, but we continued walking, crossing over a ridge as the first of the stars began to shine high above us. This was when Serima decided we should stop in the small valley below us to rest. It was almost too dark to continue, and the camuls were tiring. We walked down a slight slope to a small stream and stopped. In the poor light it looked like an ideal place to stop. There was ample water and food for the camuls. We removed their panniers but left the frames on, allowing them to wander close to us while they grazed on the thick grass near the stream. The pannier frames weighed very little, and it would save us time when we continued on. With the night came the cold, but the ground as well as the grass was dry as we rolled out our sleeping bags. Themus quietly loped in as soon as he heard us open the pannier with food in it. We fed him then ourselves, and while we rested, he disappeared back into the night. I heard Serima whisper to me.

‘We have about two hours before the moon is up. We’ll carry on once we can see where we are going. We should try and sleep until then.’

I woke before Serima as the moon rose over the eastern ridge above our valley. With the moonlight shining into the valley, it was almost as bright as daylight. I pulled myself out of my sleeping bag and rolled it up before tying it to a pannier just as Serima slid out of hers. With a quiet whistle the camuls walked over to us. They looked fresh as we stroked their flanks before lifting the panniers back on to the frames on their backs. There was no sign of Themus, but I knew he was out there in the dark guarding us. That was definitely a comforting feeling. We quickly left the valley leading the camuls, when Serima asked the first of the many questions I knew she would ask over the next few days.

‘What did you mean by he knows I have used it? Why did you call it a he?’ she asked as she led us over the ridge and into the next valley.

I considered this, as it brought back the memory of that scream of anguish and frustration when I first began using the orb half. I didn’t answer immediately, as I gave an involuntary shudder at the thought of it.

She must have seen my reaction and asked me, ‘Was it that bad?’

‘Yes, it was, and it was definitely a male, and the strange old woman’s thoughts that were guiding me also referred to it as a he, so whoever he was, I felt he was no longer a person but something else. Something that was much worse than I believed a person could ever become,’ I replied, and that remained the only subject we talked about until the next day when she changed the subject by asking about the Saurnel Desert.

The terrain was steadily becoming more difficult to cross. The weather was changing; it was becoming colder, and the sun was now hiding behind thick cloud. There was rain in the air, and we could see drizzle blowing across the hilltops ahead of us. There were now patches of snow in the shadow of large rocks and the numerous small clumps of low bushes growing in the open ground between the rocks and boulders. We were no longer crossing over the shallow streams in the valleys. In these hills, there were now deep narrow ravines with fast-flowing rivers moving southwards in the bottom. No wonder Worn Ath had given up and headed eastward where it was easier travelling, even though he was taking a greater risk of being captured with the half of the orb. We also found the ground too dangerous to travel over at night and decided we would only continue walking during daylight until it was safer. We rested out of the wind and the occasional shower of rain, but the dreams