Wolf of the Tesseract

Chapter 11

Wincing at the flavor, Claire sipped deep from the cup of bitter, boiled herbs. She wiped her mouth and lay down inside the lodge as Ma Kechewaishke stoked the fire within the sweltering structure. Sweat beaded upon Claire's lip and her nostrils burned; pungent fumes wafting from the wetted weeds Ma carefully arranged upon the coal bed.

"How do you feel?" James squeezed her hand as he asked the question.

"So sleepy." Claire's words slurred and her eyelids moved ever slowly.

"Don't disturb her," said Ma between sips of her own on the herbal concoction. "Not that you would be able to once she has 'gone up the mountain.' But the sooner she sleeps, the sooner she has her encounter."

Rob gave her an inquisitive look, focusing on the old woman's cup.

"Perhaps Gichi-manidoo will finally answer me, too," she said hopefully. The more experienced planes-walker exhaled deeply, as with a contented sigh, and closed her eyes. She leaned back against the wall and her lids shot open to reveal milky white eyes. She'd traveled beyond.

Claire's head lolled to the side and her jaw slackened. She sighed as every remaining scrap of breath leaked from her lungs. Then, she inhaled and exhaled rapidly, like a panting dog; Claire, too, was gone.

Rob sat in silence between the two unconscious, female forms. The roasting heat made his head swim and his new shirt, an oversized hoody borrowed from Jackie's trunk, quickly soaked with perspiration. He refused to leave the sweat lodge before they'd returned.

. . .

James only needed a fraction of his concentration to maintain the open viewing portal. The ethereal opening between the dimensions looked much like a smoky window.

From the others side of the aperture, Vivian assured Nitthogr that he'd correctly anticipated his enemies' move. "The Vyrm psychics tell me that Princess Bithia's trance is deeper than mere communion with the Architect King. She sent her spirit out into the ether, probing, trying to connect with her other form and interfere with your plans. Thus far, she has been adept at evading the Vyrm eidolons and escaping any traps they have set against her."

Amused, James chuckled. He knew he couldn't simply kill her—with her spirit disconnected from body, the Royal mark her soul bore would be lost forever. She'd made a good move.

"Fools," he grinned again, easily guessing his fugitives' next moves. "Zabe is running straight down the contents of the Grimmorium. It's like he does not realize that I wrote this book! There's no way he can beat me at my own game, but it will be fun, nonetheless, even if it is barely a challenge.

"Pull the psychics back. Their eidolon projections are not to interfere with Bithia making contact inside the ether."

"As if they could," Vivian spat over her shoulder to the vyrm clairvoyants behind her. "They cannot even locate her, now; she's talented, and her will is strong."

James continued. "Have them lie in wait and merely observe. If I'm right, Claire or Zabe will try and contact with the princess. Once that happens, we should be able to locate them. We won't need to find Bithia; if the eidolons can mark Claire in the ether, then we will have them."

Vivian nodded and the vyrm behind her immediately sank into their positions outside of the prison doors. "I'm ready to return," she assured him. "Regorik will contact you through the runestones once there is news."

Nodding and smiling James congratulated himself. "The snare is set. We only need to wait for the prey to walk in." He waved a finger and the inter-dimensional window dispelled in a wisp of smoke.