It felt as if the ground had fallen out from under them. Pug staggered a moment, then righted himself and saw Tomas doing the same. Macros leaned upon his staff, looking about, then sat down upon a rock. The falling sensation slowed, then ceased, but the sky above changed, as the grey of rift-space was replaced by a dazzling display of stars in an inky void. Macros said, “You should do something about the air above this island, Pug. In a moment we’ll not have it.”
Pug didn’t hesitate, but incanted quickly and closed his eyes. Above them the others could see a faint glowing canopy come into existence. Pug opened his eyes again.
Macros said, “Well, you couldn’t have known.” Then his eyes narrowed and his voice rose in anger. “But you should have been clever enough to have anticipated this trap!”
Pug and Tomas suddenly both felt such guilt as they had when boys, being reprimanded by Tomas’s father for some failing in the kitchen. Pug shrugged off the feeling and said, “We thought it all right, seeing you waving to us.”
Macros closed his eyes and leaned his head against the staff a moment, then heaved a deep sigh. “One of the problems with being my age is you look at everyone who is younger as children, and when everyone else around you is younger, it means you live in a universe of children. So you tend to scold more than is proper.” He shook his head. “I am sorry to be so short with you. I was trying to warn you off. If you’d thought to use one of the abilities you learned from the eldar, we could have spoken despite the noise of the dragon. Then Tomas could have lifted me up to the dragon, and we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Pug and Tomas exchanged guilty glances again. Then Macros said, “Still, there’s nothing to be done, and no gain from recriminations. At least you got here on time.”
Tomas’s eyes narrowed. “On time? You knew we were coming?”
Pug said, “Your message to Kulgan and me said you could no longer read the future.”
Macros smiled. “I lied.”
Pug and Tomas were both mute in astonishment. Macros stood up and began to pace. “The truth is when I penned my last missive to you, I could see the future, but now I really can’t anymore. I lost the ability to know what was to happen when my powers were stripped away.”
“Your powers are gone?” said Pug, understanding at once what a staggering loss that would be to Macros. Above all others, Macros was the master of magic arts, and Pug could only imagine what it would feel like to be suddenly stripped of that which gave definition to your being, your existence and nature. A magician without magic was a bird without wings. Pug locked eyes with Macros for a moment, and they both knew there was a bond of understanding.
In a lighter tone, Macros said, “Those that put me here couldn’t destroy me - I’m still a tough old walnut - but they could neutralize me. Now I am powerless.” He pointed to his head. “But I’ve my knowledge and you’ve the power. I can guide you like no other in the universe, Pug.” He took a deep breath. “I can gauge the situation based on superior information to that which you presently possess. I know more of what faces us than anyone in the universe, save the gods. I can help.”
“How did you come to this place?” asked Pug.
Macros motioned for them to sit and they did. To Ryath the mage said, “Daughter of Rhuagh, there is game, though scant, upon this island of plants. If you are clever, you shall not starve.”
The dragon said, “I shall hunt.”
“Ware the limit of the protective shell I’ve erected about the Garden,” warned Pug.
“I shall,” answered the dragon as she took wing.
Macros looked at the pair and said, “When you and I closed the rift, Pug, you directed shattering energies for my use. As a by-product of that business, I was suddenly a beacon in the black to that which strove to pierce the barrier between worlds.”
“The Enemy,” said Pug.
Macros nodded. “I was seized and a battle ensued. Fortunately, as powerful as what I face is, I am . . . was not without powers of my own.”
Pug said, “I remember watching you, in the vision upon the Tower of Testing, turning aside the warped rift that threatened to allow the Enemy to regain that universe.”
Macros shrugged. “You live long enough, you learn a few things. And I may be unkillable.” The last was said with a note of regret. “In any event, we battled for some time. How long I cannot judge, for, as you’ve no doubt noticed, time has little meaning between worlds.