by Randy Nargi
“What are they?” Dusk asked.
Silbra Dal answered, “Technically, they are a conjuration. A type of changing spell similar to stoneflow that creates crystal—I don’t know how to describe them—blades maybe. Extremely sharp. They used to be called ’Dragon’s Teeth’ in ancient times. But unlike stoneflow this conjuration is permanent.”
“So crystal blades. You climb over them,” Jaden said.
“The mage omitted the fact that memalin shards can grow taller than a man,” Etthar Calain said. “And the ones that surround Gredarl Kar’s fortress are certainly that tall. There is no climbing over these.”
“There’s always a way,” Jaden smiled. “I’d place a saddle or a blanket over the sharp edge and—”
“And it would be cut in half,” Silbra Dal said.
“What?”
“Memalin shards are keener than any blade you’ve ever seen. A leaf falling on the edge of a shard would be cleanly severed.”
Jaden sat down. “Well, clearly this requires a bit more thought,” he said quietly.
“Indeed,” said Etthar Calain. “But you did well, master bounty hunter. Now let me add my pieces to the puzzle. Although the news is not good, I fear.” The former spymaster moved a little closer to the fire and warmed himself. “I learned that Bryn Eresthar has been forced out of office.”
“That cannot be!” Dusk cried.
“There was a convocation of Lord Governors this day. It could have had two very different outcomes. Yrian Gast did what he had to preserve unity.”
Bander tried to make sense of the news. “I will need more details than that.”
“I don’t have all the details, but my sources tell me that the Viceroy gambled by sending Imperial troops into the provinces. He believed it to be a show of strength. The Lord Governors took it as a threat to their sovereignty. Not all of them, of course. But enough to remove Gast from his position. It looks like Asryn was behind the machination, but he was joined by Kreed’s Keep and Hamwick. Haster Grambs of Vale was part of that viper’s nest as well. They laid out their demands during a private audience with the Viceroy before the larger meeting, and then sat mum while Yrian Gast explained to all the Lord Governors how Meomannan Quill was behind the attacks.”
“What?” Silbra Dal exclaimed. All color had drained from her face.
“In this fiction, the Grand Guildmaster and a group of terrorist mages attacked Waterside and Kreed’s Keep to destroy the Empire. Yrian Gast is now engaged in a purge of sorts. Nearly all mages are being rounded up and sent to a detention center in Old Lausk for interrogation.”
“And the mages agreed to this?” Silbra Dal asked.
“Most did. Suspicion has fallen primarily upon the Black Following. Tarist and Ramipoor have joined the witch hunt.”
“This will destroy the Guild,” Bander said.
“I believe that was the intention,” Etthar Calain said. The old spymaster went on to share a few more observations and speculations, but he didn’t know where Bryn Eresthar was or what the timetable was for his departure from office.
“And who will take his place?” Dusk asked.
"Isn't it obvious? Why Asryn of course. He will assume the Lord Governorship."
Bander began to pace again. This was all starting to make sense. He hadn’t believed it when he first considered the possibility, but now he had to admit it was true. This whole thing was a play to control the second wealthiest province in the Empire. This was about gold. Nothing more, nothing less. No, that wasn’t true. Asryn still wanted to destroy Bryn Eresthar. At that moment Bander remembered what Vala had learned and then died for. Asryn had told her that he would use the Donden Cage to strike a deadly blow against Bryn Eresthar and all that he held dear.
“Captain?” Silbra Dal stared at him with an odd expression on her face. “Are you unwell?”
Rage welled up in him. He tried to breathe deeply to calm himself, but it wasn't working. "No, I'm not unwell. I'm angry."
THREE HOURS LATER, BANDER FELL ASLEEP IN FRONT OF THE FIRE. The lodge’s six upstairs bedrooms were all filled, so he had stretched out on a divan in the hall and was asleep within 90 seconds.
Usually, he didn't dream. Or at least he didn't remember his dreams. But this night he dreamt that he was back in Waterside before the city was destroyed. He was with Vala, a friend and sometime lover, and they were investigating the murder of Tobin Leroth, a mutual friend who had worked on a secret research project in the Esoterium.
Bander felt himself going through the motions of the events as they actually occurred, but every moment, every conversation, was steeped in dread. He knew what was going to happen to Waterside and especially to Vala, but he was unable to speak of it or do anything to stop it.
Now it was the first night after he had been summoned to Waterside by Vala and Silbra Dal. There had been a reception at the Lord Governor's manor. He had met Asryn for the first time and had taken an immediate dislike to the man. If only he could have snapped the stubby little man's neck right then and there he could have stopped the tragedies to come.
But the dream continued, mingled with his memories. Every moment replayed in his mind.
He was in the baths in the barracks where he was staying, soaking his injured body. He remembered that in real life the water had been cold, but in this dream, it was warm and soothing. Slipping beneath the surface of the bath, he felt completely relaxed. And when he came up for air, Vala was there with him, naked except for her battle scars and the jewels which adorned her body. She unpinned her hair and slipped into the bath and into his arms. As they embraced, Bander was overcome with grief that welled up in him.
“I’m sorry,” he tried to say. But he could barely speak.
Vala smiled at him with her crooked smile. “Sorry for what? Keeping me waiting for so long?”
Bander looked into her eyes for as long as he could. Then he sank beneath the surface again, his tears washing away in the bath water. Vala followed him down, her hands holding his, tightly. Their faces moved together and then she spoke two short words—which he heard clearly, despite being underwater.
Save me.
And then someone was calling his name. But it wasn’t Vala speaking. It was a male voice. Old. Tired. It was a voice that he knew.
Meomannan Quill.
Bander was instantly awake and moving. He rolled from the divan into a crouch on the floor, ready to spring.
This wasn’t another dream. The mage stood before him.
“It has been a long time, Captain.”
Bander slowly rose, his eyes darting around the room.
“We are quite alone,” Meomannan Quill said. “I’ve come seeking my old friend Etthar Calain but did not wish to shock his ancient heart with my sudden appearance.”
“But you deem it acceptable to shock my own ancient heart?”
“Ha, your heart is quite strong, believe me. I fear that—”
At that moment there was a blur of movement and a high-pitched humming sound. A blast of magical energy lanced across the room towards the old man, but Meomannan Quill made the slightest gesture with his hand and a shimmering magic shield enveloped him. The bolt of energy crackled along the shield harmlessly.
Bander spun to see Silbra Dal in the doorway, her face a mask of hatred.
“You will have to try harder than that, my dear, if you are to—”
Silbra Dal screamed a blood-curdling war cry and attacked again. This time her attack took the form of what looked like a swarm of black insects that materialized from her outstretched hands. In a fraction of a second, the swarm had billowed out and dug its way into the old mage’s body. Bander could not believe what he was seeing. Meomannan Quill’s skin bubbled and undulated as if infested by some diabolical plague of maggots. He fell to the ground writhing in pain.
“Am I trying hard enough now?” Silbra Dal spat.
Bander didn’t think. He just tackled the young sorceress, breaking her concentration and freeing Meomannan Q
uill from his torture.
The Grand Guildmaster recovered quickly and stood tall. “Yield!” he roared in a voice that shook the very timbers of the lodge.
Silbra Dal screamed again and Bander felt himself being flung off of her and up twenty feet up to the arched ceiling. He struck it hard and was tumbling back down when a sphere of protection surrounded him and shielded him from smashing into the stone floor.
“You will yield now!” Meomannan Quill yelled again.
“Never!”
“Silbra Dal, stop!” It was Etthar Calain, looking frail in the doorway. “He will destroy you.”
“Listen to your elders, child. We must not battle.”
“Give me one reason not to kill you,” she said deliberately.
“There is another Donden Cage. And I fear that the target is Rundlun. We must work together…before it is too late.”
IN LESS THAN A MINUTE EVERYONE ELSE IN THE HOUSE HAD CONVERGED UPON THE HALL. Bander called for his team to calm themselves—especially Silbra Dal. He saw that Wegg had noticed that the young sorceress was pale and shaking and healer went over to examine her.
Etthar Calain greeted Meomannan Quill and made introductions.
“What a remarkable assemblage of rogues and outlaws—with several old geezers to boot,” Meomannan Quill laughed.
“I’m glad you are able to retain your mirth after nearly being destroyed by this young sorceress,” Etthar Calain said.
“Indeed, if she represents the alternative to the Guild, I fear that Asryn may be correct. We may not deserve to endure.”
Silbra Dal pushed away from Wegg and glowered at Meomannan Quill. “The Guild is a corrupt institution and it most certainly does not deserve to endure.”
“Perhaps,” the old mage said. “Or perhaps not. Perhaps we are the only bulwark against the forces of chaos.”
“In truth, how sturdy is this bulwark?” Silbra Dal asked. “You failed. You failed to defend yourself against Asryn’s allegations. You refused to cooperate. Your arrogance has allowed the terrorists to tear the Empire apart and imprison hundreds of innocent people. And you, yourself, are so weak that you needed my help to escape from Harsceaw.”
“It was you…?”
“Yes. I forced Bryn Eresthar to gain an audience with you. I provided you with the thader crystals.”
“But why? If you hate me so much and hate the Guild, why not leave me there to rot?”
“I want answers. I want to know what you did to me.”
“I didn’t do anything to you, and I do not answer to you.” Meomannan Quill’s countenance darkened.
“You will answer to me! The Guild defiled me—”
“The Guild did no such thing. We have existed for centuries and have treated all within our ranks with respect. No one forced you to become a mage. You came to us of your own free will. You agreed to our rules when you stepped through the gates of Delham.”
“I was a child. I didn’t know better. My parents put me forth to be tested.”
“Then blame your parents. We do not conscript acolytes. We never have and never will.”
“You use tradition as a scapegoat—”
Etthar Calain raised his hand. “Mistress, I understand your concerns. Many have voiced similar complaints. But I beg you to put aside your differences—at least temporarily—so that we must learn of this new threat.”
“I will have justice.”
Bander stepped over and stood beside her. “Yes, you will. I will make sure of it. But this is not the time, nor the place. You heard what the Grand Guildmaster said. There is another Donden Cage.”
Silbra Dal turned towards Bander. She looked exhausted. “How can we even trust him?”
Meomannan Quill said, “I’m perhaps the only one in the Imperial Council whom you can trust. The enemy has infiltrated the Imperial Government, deeper than anyone imagined. You rebuked me for not cooperating, but you did not question why I did not cooperate. I ask you: cooperate with whom? If I shared what knew or even suspected, I would be providing information to the enemy. The only defense is to trust no one.”
“Yet you come here, trusting us?” Silbra Dal sneered.
“I do not trust you,” the old mage said. “Or you, or you, or you…” He pointed at the others in turn. “I trust my friend Etthar Calain. And perhaps the Captain here. But no one else. No offense, Jaden.”
“None taken.”
Etthar Calain clapped the old mage on the shoulder. “Now you are being melodramatic, old friend. Sit and tell us of this second Donden Cage.”
And so Meomannan Quill did.
He explained to the group that the Cages were part of a large collection of magical artifacts that were discovered in the Zantu excavations during the 14th and 15th centuries. Over the next few hundred years, these items were brought to Rundlun, cataloged, and secured in Skydagger's vaults. That was where most of them stayed, but from time to time various magical researchers requested that they be able to study a particular artifact. Usually for naught.
“I don’t understand, Grand Guildmaster,” said Dusk. “Why for naught?”
“These artifacts are of the old magic, dear lady,” Meomannan Quill said. “It has been nearly impossible to discern what any of them can do.”
“So you have a vault full of power magical weapons that you do not know how to use?” Wegg asked.
“They are not all weapons, and some artifacts have surrendered their secrets after years of study, but others—like the Cages—have remained an enigma until now.”
Bander said, “Bryn Eresthar told me that he had been in contact with our friend Tobin Leroth, the man responsible for deciphering the Donden Cage. There had been no mention of a second one…”
"There were actually three Cages found in Zantu, although the third is but a broken fragment. Each looks a bit different and each was cataloged under a different name. This second one was known as Mison's Globe. Three years ago, when Aglaard Shie originally requested to study the Donden Cage, we were not certain that Mison's Globe was related to the Donden Cage."
“And now you are?” Bander asked.
“The Guild’s curator, Faran Marr, had a theory to that effect, but he kept his speculation to himself until the destruction of Waterside compelled him to speak up. He admitted his theory to me and I had an opportunity to study the archives on each artifact. And, yes, I am more convinced than ever that the artifacts are two of a kind.”
“That’s not the same as being certain.”
“Indeed. And were I not unceremoniously thrown into prison, I would have been able to continue my study and provided you with a more definitive answer. But there is something else you should know. Something that we kept quiet at the time.”
“What was that?” Bander asked.
“Somewhere between ten and four days before the destruction of Waterside, the vaults of Skydagger had been compromised. A handful of items had been stolen, including tokens for the Lord Governors, a ring of changing, a scroll of skinshift which allowed the thief to escape, and Mison’s Globe. Thanks to the efforts of the good Magister here, the ring has been recovered. Though not officially.” His eyes twinkled for a moment, as he suppressed a smile.
Bander said, “Yes, we’ve seen the ring for ourselves.”
Jaden said, “Grand Guildmaster, tell us why you think this second Cage will be used against Rundlun.”
“In truth, I cannot be certain that the City of Five is the target, but I have had much time to think about the two previous targets of this terror attack. I do not believe they were randomly chosen by some madman.”
“Nor do I,” Bander said. “And I am eager to hear your reasoning, Grand Guildmaster.”
Meomannan Quill nodded and said, “Waterside is our second largest port, but when it was destroyed, we diverted the trade ships to Port Othan and began rebuilding. In two or three years, Waterside’s port and warehouses will be restored. This attack hurt us badly, but did not destroy the Empire’s trade.”
> “The same with Kreed’s Keep,” Jaden offered.
“Even more so. Kreed’s Keep is the Gate to the East, but Prentel is not much farther,” Meomannan Quill said.
“And mages are already working to purify the reservoir,” Etthar Calain said. “The city should be habitable again within the week.”
“I believe that both attacks, but especially the destruction of Waterside were not intended to topple the Empire, but to frighten us into submission,” the old mage said.
“My thoughts exactly,” Bander said. “This has always been about fear. But to what end?”
“And how does Rundlun play into it?” Jaden asked.
“I believe that our foes will use the threat of the destruction of Rundlun as a sword above our heads. They will hold the city for ransom.”
“But what will they demand?” Dusk asked.
“That remains unknown,” Meomannan Quill said.
“Guesses,” Silbra Dal said with disdain. “These are no more than guesses. You have no proof, no—”
"Oh, how I tire of your insolence, child."
Etthar Calain tried to keep the peace. “Let us keep our eyes on the real problem. A second weapon—the likes of which we have never could have imagined—is in the hands of our enemy.”
“No, Magister,” Silbra Dal said. “That is not the real problem. The real problem is that someone out there has a codex, a way to decode all the artifacts of Zantu.”
Everyone fell silent. Bander cursed to himself. She was correct, of course.
But Meomannan Quill shook his head. “In all of the tomes and magical records we’ve recovered over the years, there has been no mention of a codex.”
Silbra Dal glared at him. “That doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Someone knew exactly what to steal from Skydagger. That means they knew that this Mison’s Globe was the twin to the Donden Cage. And that means they also know what all the other artifacts are.”
“Of course! That will be the ransom,” Jaden said. “The artifacts of Zantu. And the Viceroy will have no choice but to pay.”
Chapter Fifteen
