Keys of Candor: Trilogy

by Casey Eanes

  The screams echoed through the void until everything went completely black and collapsed into nothingness. A final jolt seared through Kull’s consciousness until everything stopped.

  “Stop!” Hosp screamed through the datalink. The cold, calculating voice that Seam had conspired with for so long evaporated and gave over to hot rage. “What are you doing? HOW DARE YOU COMMAND LORD ARAKIEL TO DO THIS?” He slammed his fist down on the console and stared down on the High King. “Do not forget all that I have provided you, Seam. You may hold the keys to control the Serubs, but you cannot control the populace of this world. You need me; do not forget our allegiance and our plans.”

  Seam shook his head and turned to the Surrogator’s screen. “Plans must change, Hosp. It is time for you to decide who you will serve, for soon all will fall under my bidding. Order will return to this continent, even if I have to build up an army to do my bidding. You know that my potential knows no bounds.”

  Hosp’s eyes narrowed as Seam spoke. The snake like man leaned into the datalink screen before speaking, his words short. “Do not free Abtren until I am present. You owe that to me. I will be there soon.”

  Seam nodded with smiling defiance. “Fine, as you wish.” The datalink screen went black and Seam stood next to Arakiel whose hulking figure seemed to fill the entire chamber. The king questioned the god like a child. “Did you do it, Serub?”

  “It is done.” Arakiel’s face showed no pleasure and no allegiance to his new master. He simply stood like a hulking golem, awaiting another task from the magician who controlled him.

  “Good, let me see the quality of your work.” Seam’s eyes fell on Kull’s body. He held up the bracer of the keys and spoke out his command. “Kull Shepherd of Cotswold. Arise.”

  Kull’s broken body shook, seized with some dark power. The empty husk inhaled a ragged, choking breath and raised its head. It stood up like a fumbling marionette and turned to face the High King. Eyes vacant and dormant, Seam stood before this new creation and smiled, inspecting it as if it were a gift given on his birthday.

  “Very good, Arakiel. Kull will prove to be an excellent servant for me now.” Seam walked away from Kull’s hollow body and stared out into the night horizon that lay before his perch on the Spire. “All will serve.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  The fortress monastery of Taluum lay hidden deep within the thick pine forests of Preost. Though it was filled with thousands of people, the nexus of the Alephian order had no major inroads. The city, carved and hollowed out of a natural outcropping of stone, was so well hidden within the dark green conifers surrounding it that it was invisible until one was standing at its gates. Willyn paced the rough-hewn floors of her room and peered out a window overlooking the pine trees gently rustling in the wind. The sweet smell of pinesap drifted in through her open window and filled the small room with its crisp aroma.

  A solitary cardinal flitted its wings on a branch outside her window. Willyn stared at the small flame of a bird as it bobbed along the branch, unaware of its curious observer. After a few moments, the bird flapped its wings and disappeared through the thick canopy enveloping Taluum.

  “Fly away, little red. I am not far behind you.”

  Willyn sighed and sat down at the small wooden desk in her room. She glanced around. It was a beautiful room with gorgeous wood plank floors, stone walls, and handcrafted furniture. Most would consider it a quaint paradise, but it felt like a prison cell to Willyn. She flipped open her datalink and scoured the live feeds. Her eyes stopped on a channel dedicated to the Red rebellion within the Groganlands. The channel was a difficult one to follow, surfacing sporadically only to disappear and then reappear again under a new handle. The current feed had a video of executions taking place within Rhuddenhall.

  Rhuddenhall. So much had happened since Willyn had left the Rhuddenhall, chasing Grift Shepherd into Elum. She had been wrong about so many things, and the grief of all she had lost seized her chest with pain. Hagan.

  Willyn drew in a deep breath and extinguished her emotions. As her nerves settled, she aimlessly scrolled the feeds. The executions in the Red City were troubling, but there was something more sinister in the images. Willyn looked past the executioners and into the on looking crowd. They were not protesting. They were celebrating. The resistance to Hosp and his regime was fading. She could read it on faces in the crowd. The tides were turning. She slammed her fist down on the small desk. “Two months! It has only been two months! How can they forget so quickly?”

  How can they forget my family? How can they forget what we’ve done for them? What Hagan did for them? Willyn’s heart felt like it was wrenched out of her chest, and she shook her head in disbelief. It took so little time. Only a couple of months had passed and people were cheering the execution of the Reds, calling them terrorists for defending their proud heritage.

  She stood, turned off the datalink in disgust and stared out over the dancing pines. Her mind flitted back to the cardinal who flew free. It’s time for me to leave. To restore the Sars. To save the Groganlands.

  A gentle knock on her chamber door interrupted her thoughts.

  “Come in,” Willyn whispered.

  A young girl stepped into the chamber and bowed her head, her hair held back tightly in a bun. “My apologies, Madam Kara, but the Mastermonk has requested your presence.” Even through the monk attire and her ash covered face, the girls’ beauty and grace was striking.

  Willyn shut her eyes and sighed. “Did he give a reason? I haven’t heard from anyone in days.”

  The young girl shuffled her feet and briefly closed her eyes. “No ma’am. If it would please you I could ask. Should I send a query?”

  Willyn waved off the request. “No. None of that is necessary. When and where does he want to meet?”

  The girl straightened her back and answered, her voice delicate but firm, “Now, ma’am. In the sanctuary.”

  Willyn scoffed, “Now hardly seems like the time to try and hold a prayer meeting.”

  The youth surprised her with his quick, stern response. “I don’t mean to speak out of turn, my lady, but he does not seem prepared to pray.”

  Willyn’s eyes narrowed and she nodded, dismissing the girl’s overly polite attempt at bluntness. “Fine. I will be there.”

  The young monk bowed and whisked herself away behind Willyn’s door. She was once again left alone in her beautiful coffin of a room. Her mind flickered back to the memory of being bound in Seam’s control, awaiting an unjust fate in the Spire. Her memories were chaotic. So much had happened so quickly, and if it hadn’t been for Shepherd’s son, they all would have died that day to serve as chum for the sharks in the mirrors. Death had felt as inevitable as an avalanche threatening to fall. Taluum had offered her safety and rest for months, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that the avalanche was still coming, threatening to consume them all. She wasn’t used to hiding in wait.

  I have to fight.

  Willyn stepped through the massive wooden doors of Taluum’s sanctuary and walked up the aisle cobbled with river rocks. The organic trail led to an altar composed of massive hewn tree trunks. The structure was unlike any Willyn had ever seen, and its composure made her heart dance in her chest. The buttresses that flew overhead were not made of stone, but of the trunks of ancient oaks, bent and bowed to form the rafters hanging dozens of feet overhead. Strung within the living sanctuary were seven white chandeliers lit with beeswax candles. No temple in Candor could match the simple elegance and awe of Taluum’s sanctuary. As Willyn walked up to the altar, her face fell on Grift and Wael standing together in the bright candlelight. It had been weeks since they had formally gathered, but now after what felt like years both men’s faces were painted with purpose.

  She did not waste time with pleasantries as she gruffly addressed the monk as one would a servant, “You summoned, Mastermonk?”

  Grift’s eyes flared with contempt, but Wael’s eyes smiled at Willyn with no reservation. “You are qu
ite right, Madam Kara. Thank you for joining us at such short notice. We have much to discuss. I trust that your accommodations here in Taluum have been satisfactory?”

  Willyn nodded curtly but said nothing. She glanced at Grift whose eyes seemed distant. The Spire had changed him.

  Wael continued, “Good. Follow me.” He beckoned his friends as he stepped up onto the altar’s floor, decorated with a beautiful mosaic of river stone, each rock painstakingly etched with ancient runes. Willyn was shocked to see Wael slowly lumber up to the altar. The Mastermonk carried a noticeable limp, and leaned heavily on his ironwood staff, and though his face was strong, his body still carried the toll of Seam’s torture.

  He stopped at a tapestry hanging on the far wall. The daylight from the sanctuary’s distant windows cascaded down on the fabric wall, and Willyn was struck by its shocking beauty. The fibers stitched within the rug seemed to vibrate with light, as if woven with gold. Willyn’s eyes danced on the image of white ephemeral beings twisted together. Their forms were like that of a burning cloud. Their faces were painted in serenity, full with peace and filled with secret knowledge.

  However, Willyn could not look away from the beast beneath the creatures’ feet. The monster’s face twisted with rage. Its eyes were filled with fiery hatred, and it wore a crown made of horns. It crouched over a pile of bones, the remnant of its victims. The beast’s power burned through the woven fiber, but its gruesome display of might did not seem to affect the beings standing over it. Willyn’s heart quickened, but she did not understand. Wael slipped beside Willyn and peered up at the tapestry, nodding as he spoke in a hushed reverence.

  “This work is older than our Order. It was made by the last of the faithful Predecessors. It showcases the guardians that live in this place, even now.”

  Wael carefully rolled the tapestry away to reveal a locked iron door. Willyn’s mind was awash with questions, but she still couldn’t shake off the eyes of the burning beings that danced upon their foe. What does it mean?

  Wael slid a key into the iron door and twisted the lock to life. Wael stepped through the portal and lit a small torch, ushering Willyn and Grift through the passageway.

  “We must not tarry here. There are very few who are aware of this passageway, and we must not risk being seen.”

  Wael locked the door behind them and plunged them into the dark hallway. The walls were timber, the sides of a living giant tree trunk that grew perfectly into this secret chamber. The floor held a steady downward slope and the party descended, following the Mastermonk into a passage draped in silent shadows. The trail soon began to twist and branch off into a confusing maze of organic tributaries. At each intersection Wael would stop and examine the wooden walls before continuing.

  Willyn quickly surrendered to the thought that she was lost beneath the castle city. Her navigation skills were worthless in the labyrinth beneath the sanctuary. As they continued to descend, there were no discernible features that could serve to orient her. Whatever Wael was examining was not evident, and from the look on Grift’s face, it was not obvious to him either. With one quick turn, Wael led them out of the hallway made of living wood and into an earthen grotto. The walls opened slightly, and they were surrounded by a hollow chamber of rock and earth. The light of Wael’s torch flickered, revealing a wooden trap door hidden in the river rock floor.

  Wael spoke and pointed at a trap door. “We are nearly there. Stay close.”

  “Where are you taking us, Wael?” Grift’s voice sounded haggard and worn. Willyn examined him in the dim light, shocked at how he sounded. For the first time she noticed how poor the warrior from Lotte looked. Thin, disheveled. His eyes seemed to be sunken back from his frame, and Willyn marked the weathered look of grief that clouded his face.

  “Soon, Grift. I promise to discuss this matter with you both soon, but we must be silent here.”

  The trapdoor led to a steep ladder carved into the stone that emptied into a small, dark chamber. The thought of being at least fifty feet underground with a maze between her and the open air caused a claustrophobic tightness to twist in Willyn’s throat. The chamber was a dead end with no exit other than the stone ladder rising behind her.

  Grift’s face filled with frustration. “Wrong turn, Wael? Why have you taken us here? What is so important that we have to crawl around underground to discuss?”

  Wael did not respond but instead felt with his fingers around the carved out stone and knelt to the ground. He spread his hands across the walls before settling on his unseen mark. His hands pushed into the wall and, remarkably, the stone gave way. Wael pushed the hidden barrier, causing a rush of stale air to wash over the party. He turned and stiffened his back as he locked eyes with Willyn and Grift.

  “Do not speak. Only listen to what I say.” The monk’s wide, white eyes stared through the dark, demanding their allegiance. “Do you understand?”

  You must be kidding me, thought Willyn. This is getting stranger by the second.

  Both Willyn and Grift nodded, and the three entered the hidden cavern. It too was carved out, and in the center of it was one solitary pane of glass mounted in the floor. A portal.

  Aleph above. Willyn’s mind exploded with fear, and her heart hammered in her chest. The monks had been hiding one of the monsters Seam was searching for underneath their own sanctuary.

  Wael placed himself between Willyn and Grift and the mirror. He turned and lifted his gaze to his two allies. Grift bristled at the sight of the mirror and stepped forward, pointing a defiant finger past Wael as he spat with a fit of rage.

  “How long did you intend to wait before telling us you had this thing? It has been two months, Wael! Two months! My son died and we have been sitting around in Preost for two months! We could have destroyed this mirror weeks ago! But we’ve been sitting here at your instruction, all while my son rots in the grave and my wife lays dying in Lotte!”

  Wael’s stoic face shattered and his body stiffened against Grift’s words. The monk’s voice swelled and consumed the entire room. “You think I don’t understand your pain?”

  The monk’s eyes welled with tears as he spoke, “Be glad, Grift Shepherd. Your son spent his last hours saving your life and fighting for you! My daughter spent her last hours betraying me.” He pointed his long finger at the mirror standing behind him. “Trying to free these demons!” He paused and finally whispered. “Do not speak of loss. Grift. Not to me.”

  The words sent Grift reeling. He turned away, his voice muted. When he did speak, his tone was meek. “Wael. My friend. How can you really be sure about Vashti?”

  Wael sighed and wiped his eyes, the tight knot in his throat relaxing. “There is much I have not told you,” the monk glanced between them both, “because I could not rest until I knew the truth. During these past two months you know scouts have been trying to discover safe passage out of Preost, but they have been doing more than just that.” The monk’s eyes were grave. “The borders…the borders are tight with Seam’s men. Only two of my scouts found safe passage.”

  “What else have they been up to Wael? What are you hiding?” Grift stepped closer to Wael and peered into the monk’s eyes.

  “I told them to journey into Lotte to the place where the mirror of Abtren was hidden. They found her there, Grift. Her body. She was where I feared she would be. Seam sacrificed Vashti to Abtren.”

  “So she was murdered, just like Kull?”

  Wael shook his head and lowered his face, “No, Grift. She knew what she was doing. She had stolen several of our protected manuscripts from our scriptorium. She led Seam to Abtren. She was working as his ally to unlock the Serubs from their prisons, until…” he paused and swallowed, “she was no longer useful to him.”

  A chilling silence fell over the three as they all absorbed the truth of Vashti’s betrayal. Behind them, a slow, menacing chuckle crawled through the room.

  Willyn’s eyes shot to the glass pane, only to see the image of a feeble old man, hunched over with
a twisted spine that matched the smile etched across his smirking face. The old man’s red eyes dripped with malice as he glanced from Grift to Willyn only to settle on Wael. His brow twitched as his chuckle grew to a raspy laugh that echoed through the entire chamber.

  “So glad to hear your daughter’s life was not wasted, monk. It won’t be long until your blood feeds me.”

  Wael slammed his ironwood staff to the ground before shouting back at the apparition.

  “In the name of Aleph, be silent! We did not request your party.”

  The man in the glass rushed to the mirror’s edge and slammed his palm on the portal. He breathed in short gasps. A long black tongue flickered out beneath his teeth. Red fire burned within his eyes. He spoke, his voice like a thousand growling beasts speaking in unison, his face twisted with wicked rebellion.

  “THEN WHY ARE YOU HERE? You hold no power over me, and that name certainly has no control over me. Try again, monk.”

  The old man sank back away from the glass, ran his long black tongue over his lips and chuckled. The wrinkles in his face began to tighten and fade as if he were being restored. Willyn stared at Grift and then Wael as fear fell over her. How was this happening? Without blood the beast in the mirror was strengthening. She stared at Wael and Grift in hopes to find an answer.

  The being in the pane laughed as he examined the three. “I see that I have nothing to fear. Candor is full of ripe fruit, ready to pick.” He stared at them with his eyes alight with power. “I long for the harvest, and it is fitting that you would come to beg at the master’s feet.”

  Wael stepped forward and bellowed back into the glass, “THERE IS BUT ONE MASTER! HIS NAME IS ALEPH!”