Ventus | Page 4

were encased in a
shimmering white liquid, like quicksilver. He was on his knees now,
but his grip on the upright remained strong.
Ryman was stubborn and strong; Jordan knew he would never be able
to break the man's grip. So he reached out a dripping hand and laid it on
the oval brightness of the man's covered head.
With a hiss the liquid poured over Jordan's fingers and up his arm. He
yelled and tried to pull back, but now the rest of the white stuff beaded
up and leapt at him.
He had time to see Ryman's blue face emerge from beneath the cold
liquid before it had swarmed up and over his own mouth, nose and
eyes.
Jordan nearly lost his head; he flailed about blindly for a moment,

feeling the coiling liquid metal trying to penetrate his ears and nostrils.
Then his foot felt the edge of the platform.
He jumped. For a second there was nothing but darkness, free falling
giddyness and the shudder of quicksilver against his eyelids. Then he
hit a greater coldness, and soft clay.
Suddenly his mouth was full of water and his vision cleared, then
clouded with muddy water. Jordan thrashed and sat up. He'd landed
where he intended: in the reflecting pool. The silver stuff was fleeing
off his body now. It formed a big flat oval on the water's surface, and
skittered back and forth between the edges of the pool. When he
caromed back in his direction, Jordan jumped without thinking straight
out of the pool.
He heard laughter--then applause. Turning, Jordan found the whole
manor, apparently, standing in the courtyard, shouting and pointing at
him. Among them as a woman he had not seen before. She must be
travelling with Turcaret. She was slim and striking, with a wreath of
black hair framing an oval face and piercing eyes.
When he looked at her, she nodded slowly and gravely, and turned to
go back inside.
Weird. He glanced up at the scaffold; Ryman was sitting up, a hand at
his throat, still breathing heavily. He caught Jordan's eye, and raised a
hand, nodding.
Then Chester and the others were around him, hoisting Jordan in the air.
"Three cheers for the hero of the hour!" shouted Chester.
"Put me down, you oafs! Willam's broke his leg."
They lowered him, and all rushed over to Willam, who grinned weakly
up at Jordan. "Get him to the surgeon," said Jordan. "Then we'll figure
out what to do about the stone mother."
Emmy ran up, and hugged him. "That was very foolish! What was that

thing?"
He shrugged sheepishly. "Stone mother. They live inside boulders and,
and hills and such like. They're mecha, not monsters. That one was just
trying to protect itself."
"What was that silver stuff? It looked alive!"
"Dad told me about that one time. The mothers protect themselves with
it. He said the stuff goes towards whatever's wettest. He said he saw
somebody get covered with it once; he died, but the stuff was still on
him, so they got it off by dropping the body in a horse trough."
Emmy shuddered. "That was an awful chance. Don't do anything like
that again, hear?"
The excitement was over, and the rest of the crowd began to disperse.
"Come, let's get you cleaned up," she said, towing him in the direction
of the kitchens.
As they were rounding the reflecting pool, Jordan heard the sudden
thunder of hooves, saw the dust fountaining up from them. They were
headed straight for him.
"Look out!" He whirled, pushing Emmy out of the way. She shrieked
and fell in the pool.
The sound vanished; the dust blinked out of existence.
There were no horses. The courtyard was empty and still under the
morning sun.
Several people had looked over at Jordan's cry, and were laughing
again.
"What--?"
"How could you!" A hot smack on his cheek turned him around again.
Emmy's dress was soaked, and now clung tightly to her hips and legs.

"I--I didn't mean to--"
"Oh, sure. What am I going to do now?" she wailed.
"Really--I heard horses. I thought--"
"Come on." She grabbed his arm ran for the nearby stables. Inside she
crossly wrung out her skirt in a stall, cursing Jordan all the while.
He shook his head, terribly confused. "I really am sorry, Emmy. I didn't
mean to do it. I really did hear horses. I swear."
"Your brain's addled, that's all."
"Well, maybe, I just..." He kicked the stall angrily. "Nothing's going
right today."
"Did you hit your head when you landed?" The idea seemed to still her
anger. She stepped out of the stall, still wet but not scowling at him any
more.
"No, I don't think so, I just--" A bright flash of light