A Meddle of Wizards. Alexandra Rushe

portal to this world. We went into it. You’re no longer on Earth.”

      Raine’s eyes widened. “No longer on. . . but . . . that’s not . . . that’s impossible.”

      Brefreton sighed. “Your world lacks magic, so a certain degree of confusion is to be expected, I suppose.” He cut her off when she tried to speak. “Please, allow me to explain.”

      Raine took a steadying breath. “Okay. You’ve got five minutes.”

      It was an empty threat. She was on his schedule, damn him, but saying it made her feel better.

      He clasped his hands behind his back, assuming a professorial stance. “Our world is comprised of diverse countries. Tannenbol, for instance, is my home.” He jerked his chin at the warrior. “Mauric over there hales from a place to the north called Finlara. At present, we are in the Black Mountains of Shad Amar—an inauspicious situation I intend to remedy forthwith.”

      Raine struggled to comprehend what he was saying. He expected her to believe that she’d been sucked through a magical portal and plunked down in another world? Outlandish. And yet this irritating man made the pronouncement with casual ease, as if it were no big deal.

      She waved her arms to stop the lecture. “Take me back.”

      “I can’t, not without the god stone. In any event, I wouldn’t return you if I could. You’re here at Reba’s bidding.”

      “Who?”

      “Reba, the goddess I serve.” Brefreton made a face. “Perhaps I should say ‘did serve.’ It was her god stone you lost.”

      “Right.” Raine snorted in disbelief.

      “Your sarcasm is a form of denial, but this is not a dream,” Brefreton said. “Ponder this, if you will. Are dreams this measured and sequential? When you dream, are you aware of the passage of time, aware of being in them? If this were a dream would your feet ache with the cold? Would your skin chafe at the wool that warms you?”

      The guy had a point. Her feet felt like popsicles and the damn wool poncho was starting to itch.

      “Okay,” she said, her heart thumping to beat the band. “Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that I buy your cock-and-bull story. I’m in this . . . this Tandara. Why am I here?”

      “An object of terrible power has been stolen from the gods.”

      “You mean, like a weapon?”

      “Exactly.” He nodded in approval. “It is called the Eye. If it falls into the wrong person’s hand, it could mean the end of our world.”

      “Sucks, but what’s that got to do with me?”

      “Long ago, it was prophesied that Hara, your twin, would gain mastery over the Eye—”

      “Whoa.” Raine held up her hand. “Back up. I don’t have a twin.”

      “Yes, you do. Your sister’s name is Hara, and you were separated at birth. You were taken to Earth for safekeeping. How and by whom, I do not know. The gods themselves did not learn of your existence until recently.”

      Raine grabbed the stone ledge to steady herself. “You’re telling me I’m from Tandara, and that I have a twin.”

      “Yes.”

      “And my biological parents?”

      “Dead, I fear.”

      “And this sister of mine, where is she?”

      “Where she has been her whole life—under Glonoff’s thumb.”

      Raine stared at him in confusion. So many names, so many revelations. Too many. “Who the hell is Glonoff?”

      “A wizard, a dark and mighty sorcerer with an insatiable lust for power.” Brefreton’s expression was grim. “Glonoff is determined to control the Eye and, with it, he means to subjugate Tandara. To that end—and based upon a prophecy that your sister will control the Eye—he has raised Hara from infancy to submit to him. “

      “Aye, and made her cruel as a rock troll in the bargain.” Mauric tied off the cord and went to work on the other boot. “She’ll make Magog a fitting bride.”

      “The god of Shad Amar,” Brefreton said, in answer to Raine’s unspoken question. “One of the Nine. There were ten gods until Magog murdered his twin over an imagined slight. That was several millennia ago. He’s been barking mad since.”

      Raine’s head swam. Good Lord. She had an evil twin. It was absurd. And yet . . . As a child, she’d had an imaginary friend, a pretty little girl, pampered and spoiled, and glowing with health. As the years passed and Raine’s sickness had worsened, the little girl faded away. A childhood fantasy, Raine had told herself, the product of her longing to be well and strong. To run and play with other children her age. To be normal.

      “If this . . . this Hara can control the Eye, why not kidnap her instead of me?” Raine asked.

      “Gertie and I thought the same thing, so we sneaked into the temple to grab Hara,” Mauric said. “Unfortunately, Magog woke up.” His teeth flashed. “We ran. She’s a looker, your sister, but a nasty piece of work. She disfigured her servants.” He squinted at Raine. “You like to cut people?”

      “No,” Raine said, taken aback. “Of course not.”

      Mauric grunted. “Good.”

      Brefreton made a dismissive gesture. “It is a very good thing you did not succeed. Hara is more trouble than she’s worth. She is Glonoff’s creature, through and through, and a drab to boot.”

      “A what?” asked Raine.

      “It’s a term wizards have for regular folk.” Mauric grinned. “Like me. All Finlars are drabs and trodyn well proud of it. Might over magic, we say.”

      “Brawn over brains, more like,” Brefreton muttered.

      “I still don’t get it.” Raine shook her head. “If Hara is a drab, then the Dark Wizard”—Good Lord, did those words just come out of my mouth?—“can’t control this Eye Thingy. No harm, no foul.”

      Brefreton gave her a level look. “I don’t think it was your sister the seers saw in their vision. I think it was you.”

      “You have got to be kidding.” Raine stared at him in astonishment. “I can’t operate an electric can opener, much less do magic.”

      “That remains to be seen. In the meantime, should Glonoff find the Eye, he cannot wield it.” Brefreton’s lips curved in an unholy smile. “He has the wrong twin.”

      “Oh, yeah?” Raine leaned forward on the stone. “News flash. I’m not feeling cooperative.”

      Brefreton shrugged. “If you are meant to wield the Eye, you will.”

      Raine longed to slap him. “Maybe I’ll leave.”

      “And go where? Look around.” He threw his arms wide. “You are in the wilderness without a map or a guide. Without our help, you die.”

      She lapsed into disgruntled silence. He had a point, damn it. She wouldn’t know where to go or whom to trust. With her luck, she’d get eaten by a dragon.

      The thought startled her. Good Lord, what if there were dragons?

      “Ahem.” Mauric cleared his throat. “Begging Raine’s pardon, but why not kill them both and be done with it? Problem solved.”

      Raine had been secretly wondering the same thing. She held her breath and waited for Brefreton’s answer.

      “Hara is Magog’s High Priestess and bride to be,” Brefreton said. “Only a fool goes to war with a god. In any case, Reba has forbidden it.”

      Limbs snapped on the hillside, loud enough to be heard over the muffled