Free The Sword of Aradel by Alexander Key

her.”
    â€œVery well,” said Brother Benedict. “You may now return from beyond the candlelight. At the count of five you will become visible again, then you will awaken and remember all you saw and heard.”
    The monk counted slowly. When he reached five, there was a sudden shimmering in the empty chair, and a sleepy Nysa appeared and opened her eyes.
    She blinked at them and shook her head as if she had been dreaming, then abruptly sat up straight. “Oh!” she gasped. “Oh, dear!” Suddenly, as if vividly recalling what she had experienced, she put her slender hands over her face and cried.
    â€œNow, now,” Brother Benedict purred, hurrying over to her and petting her as he would a child. “I’m sorry, my dear. If it wasn’t absolutely necessary for you to help us, I would have blanked out your memory. I know this is hard …”
    â€œIt—it’s all right, Benedict,” Nysa answered. “It was such a shock to suddenly be with Cerid and actually talk to her, then to have a sort of curtain come between us. And such a gorgeous place! Such flowers!”
    â€œI didn’t expect it to be a bog with vipers,” the monk said dryly. “Now, here’s what you must do: Take Merra’s quill and some vellum, and write down the formula as you remember it—and everything Cerid told you about the sword. While you are doing that, we’ll be comparing our two copies.”
    Merra’s copy, Brian saw, was far better than his own. Both copies, however, had gaps in them, though not always in the same place. Brother Benedict placed the two copies side by side, studied them carefully, and filled in most of the doubtful spots by substituting words from one copy or the other. Finally, when Nysa finished her version of what Cerid had said, the monk used it for additional corrections.
    â€œNow we’re getting somewhere,” he told them. “We cannot be far off.”
    Merra shook her head. “Uncle Benedict,” she began in a strained voice, “this isn’t a formula for traveling in Aradel. One little mistake in the figures might not matter too much here—so long as we didn’t have to worry about heights. But—but—don’t you see? When we go after the sword, we’ll be traveling through time.”
    â€œI do understand, Merra,” her uncle said. “The formula must be absolutely correct. And I’m convinced that the four of us can come up with a copy that is. It’s just a matter of remembering what we heard, and carefully going over and over—”
    â€œI—I’ve an idea,” Brian interrupted. “Why don’t we make the most perfect copy we can, and then you place Nysa under another spell and—and send her back to Cerid for corrections?”
    â€œThere isn’t time,” he was told. “What you don’t realize is that it has taken a great deal of energy to contact Cerid this evening. Not only mine, but Nysa’s. She’s depleted. It will be another full day before she can build up reserve enough to try it again. Then it may be too late.”
    â€œI see.”
    â€œThe thought frightens me, son. We’ve been working on the peasant groups for a long time, getting them secretly organized. What happened today set them off in a way that nothing else could. They’re suddenly wild to fight. It took all my power of persuasion to get them to hold off for two days. If we fail to have the sword by then, they’ll attack Rondelaine on their own—and they’ll be slaughtered. They rose against Albericus not long after he came, when they had no sword to follow and no leadership. Many hundreds died.”
    â€œWas that when my father, Harle, was killed?”
    â€œYes.”
    Brian’s jaw hardened. “I’ll make Albericus pay if it’s the last thing I do. Let’s go over these copies again.”
    Hours later Nysa