The illusion changed, to an illusion of a picture, a portrait of a man with a crown standing before an older Marek outside the very gates that stood before the Tower. "Tabon the Wise didn't earn his name through foolishness," Sevren chuckled. "He did indeed appear at the gates of the Tower to understand the intentions of these living myths. What surprised him was when Marek offered a bargain. In return for royal protection, the Sorcerers would aid the King in matters that didn't involve violence, espionage, or politics. They would also help defend the city of Suld itself against enemies that would attack it. They asked for very little in return. Only for royal recognition and protection from persecution. Tabon saw the gain for the Crown in this, for his current arrangement with the priests of Karas was not very useful for him. The priests considered the King only a minor resistance to their own wants, and they often tried to rule the kingdom through the King, through intimidation or worse. Tabon accepted the bargain. That bargain is still in effect to this day.
"Needless to say, the priests of Karas were outraged at this, mainly because it undercut the power of the church inside the kingdom. They gathered up their militant orders and priests and prepared an assault on the Tower. But Karas suddenly appeared before them as they prayed in their great cathedral, and he was very unhappy. He stripped the priests of their magical powers for a period of one year, and further decreed that one of the militant arms of the church, the Knights of Karas, would forever more be attached to the katzh-dashi. They would serve the katzh-dashi as bodyguards and protectors whenever they travelled outside the city of Suld, and when not needed by the Sorcerers, they would operate under the power of the Church. That arrangement is also still in effect," he chuckled. "Every katzh-dashi has a Knight assigned to protect him or her when they leave the city, and the Knights of Karas are famous world-wide for their skill, courage, and devotion. Both the Tower and the Church of Karas are very proud of them. Anyway, the priests weren't too happy about this, but it was the commandment of their God, so they could not disobey. It was made so, and the priests suffered their one year's punishment."
The illusion changed again, to show a great battle outside the wall of a city. Tarrin recognized it. It was the South Gate of Suld. "Our bargain was put into effect quickly. An army from Rauthym, a kingdom that was once to our east, invaded when they found out that the priests had been stripped of their magic. They marched unimpeded up to the gates of Suld and demanded the city's surrender. Tabon called on the katzh-dashi for assistance, and the Sorcerers answered. What happened next is what most call the Battle of Nine Bells. Grenig the Fool, king of Rauthym, attacked Suld, and was slaughtered. Instead of retreating, he foolishly pressed the attack, and was beaten back badly by the magic of the katzh-dashi. When the Church tower rang nine bells the next morning, the attacking army had been decimated, Grenig was dead, and the surviving generals had offered surrender. Rauthym was summarily annexed by Sulasia and became part of the kingdom, and still is today. Some of the people of Rauthym fled south and established the kingdom of New Rauthym, which is now one of the ten Free Cities."
The illusion faded from view. "That is more or less the general history of the Tower," he told them. "Very little has happened since the Battle of Nine Bells in a historical sense that has a bearing on your training. We'll be more specific about times and dates and events, but that will be later, after you're well into your training." He adjusted the spectacles on his nose. "I think we can start with the tour now," he said. "If all of you will follow me."
Sevren led them to several places, and they new Initiates followed in wonder. Tarrin himself was very intrigued by the story he'd been told, about the Ancients and the Breaking. He'd heard stories of those things from his father, old folk tales that did paint the Sorcerers as evil. They were also generally blamed for the Breaking, and that was the reason that, to this very day, a Sorcerer was not safe once he stepped over the border of Sulasia. Sorcerers were still considered witches in most of the kingdoms of the West. That they tolerated Sulasia's alliance to the katzh-dashi was something of a mystery to Tarrin. But then again, Tarrin remembered that his father said that the katzh-dashi almost never took any interest in affairs that happened outside the city walls of Suld. They were a very secluded order, almost regional, and it was easy to forget about them completely. Besides, Sulasia was one of the most powerful of the twelve Kingdoms, and no army would march against it with much enthusiasm.
It was more than that, he realized. The Tower was considered one of the best places of learning in the West. It was why so many nobles and rich merchants sent their children here for education. Perhaps the reputation of the Tower and the katzh-dashi was not quite so hard and feared as he first thought. Perhaps the world considered the new katzh-dashi to be a better version of the old ones. After all, they weren't as powerful as the Ancients. They didn't ignore the world the way the stories say the Ancients did. But why would a Sorcerer not be safe outside of Sulasia, yet the very people outside of Sulasia sent their children here to be educated? It was a strange paradox, and thinking about it made his head hurt.
The first place they visited was the library, and this time, they were allowed up onto the third floor. That was where all the tomes on magic were kept. It was a bit darker on that floor, and cooler, but there were many shelves full of books, and tables and chairs between them. There were also many people there, most of them Initiates but some Sorcerers, reading from ancient manuscripts, scrolls, and books. One small group of older men and women sat at an ornate table in the middle of the library, reading studiously from books so old they looked about ready to fall apart. There were many younger men and women surrounding this core of learning, laboriously writing in new books as they read from older ones. They were scribing, he realized, copying the pages of old books, about ready to fall apart, into new ones, so that their knowledge would not be lost as the books upon which the knowledge rested disintegrated with the marching of the years. Sevren explained to them that they were welcome to come to the library and read anytime they wished, but that they had to follow very strict rules of conduct and procedure. Each section of the library had a rating, and a Initiate of one grade was not permitted access to books that were too advanced for him. That would prevent accidents.
Next they were taken to a large room in the basement, a room that had many blackened scars on the walls, ceiling, and floor. Sevren called it a practice room, one of several, where Initiates could practice combat weaves in a controlled environment. Sevren warned that they would be here only with a katzh-dashi instructor supervising them.
Next they were taken up to the very top levels of the main Tower, to a huge room on the top level that had a ceiling that was vaulting tens of spans high above, and had a huge symbol laid into the floor. It was the shaeram, the symbol of the katzh-dashi, and Tarrin stared at it for a moment. It was the same as the one he wore around his neck, but this one had color. The circle around the perimiter was green, and the four-sided concave star in the center was white, with a black point in the middle. The points of the six-sided star between them were red, orange, yellow, blue, indigo, and violet, laid out in such a way that their corners met perfectly and did not overlap. Tarrin noticed that what he thought of as a six-sided star was actually six triangles carefully laid out tip-to-tip, so that each triangle made contact with the circle and the triangles to each side. Tarrin was quick to make the connection between the colors and the seven grades of Initiation. They were also the seven colors he saw during the Test. Each color represented a sphere of Sorcery.
"This is where you will learn Ritual Sorcery," Sevren said. "Under the careful guidance of teachers, you'll learn how we can link our powers together in a combined effort, where the whole is greater than the sum of its individual parts. But it's a very delicate and dangerous procedure, so it will be a while before you stand in this room again. You have a great deal to learn beforehand. Come along now, we have one more place to visit here in the main Tower."
Tarrin stepped out onto t
he symbol curiously, putting his paw down on it. There were no tiles, but it wasn't paint either. No seams, no edges, but the colors began and ended crisply and perfectly. It was as if they'd changed the color of the stone that made up the floor. The stone was curiously warm, and he noticed a faint tingling buzz behind his ears. And how quiet it was.
Too quiet. He couldn't hear the footsteps of the others as they filed out of the large double doors in front of him.
He stood up and rushed off after them--
--then rebounded off something that wasn't there.
Tarrin shook his head and touched his nose delicately, feeling it bend a little bit. He had impacted something solid, and yet there was nothing in front of him. He shook off the impact and put his arms out in front of him, then started forward again.
And his paws struck something solid. Something that simply was not there.
It had no sense of texture at all. As if it were made of the slickest glass, like it was solid air. It went up as high as he could reach, and it went all the way down to the floor. Keeping his paw on it, he started walking, and found that it went around in a circle, precisely following the outside edge of the green circle laid into the floor. When he came back to where he started, he began to get nervous.
He was trapped inside.
Extending his claws, he tried to rake the surface of this curious barrier, but they simply slid along the surface harmlessly. He felt no pressure against his claws at all, the pressure that told him that they'd hooked into something. It simply was not there. Yet it was, because he couldn't get through it. Whatever it was. He looked up, and at seeing the ceiling some fifty spans over his head, he wondered just how high up it went. Bunching his legs, he vaulted up almost fifteen spans, but the pressure against his paws told him that it did indeed extend well and far upward. He landed lightly and tried to quell the sudden rise of the Cat in his mind. He was trapped inside this strange symbol, and the feeling of imprisonment was starting to upset his animal half. The Cat had an instinctual fear of imprisonment, and he had to fight against an instinctive compulsion to flee, to try to get free by any means possible. Now was the time for thinking, not for panic, and it took him several moments of wrestling to convince the Cat that this was not a trap that could be broken out of. But thought out of.
Allia appeared in the doorway. She said something--or at least he thought she did, for her mouth moved--and she motioned for him to come with her. Tarrin put both paws on the barrier and pushed, then waved to get Allia's attention, but she was already half turned around. "Allia!" he shouted, then he realized that if he couldn't hear her, then she couldn't hear him. Quickly changing tactics, he put his paw around the amulet and used the unspoken manner of the Cat. So long as he could see her, she would "hear" it.
"Allia!"
She turned around, and he saw her mouth move, but he couldn't hear her. "Allia, get Sevren!" he told her in the manner of the Cat. She spoke again, then started moving forward. "I can't hear you!" he told her. "I'm stuck in some kind of magical wall!" He banged his paws against the invisible barrier to emphasize his point. "Get Sevren, Allia! Get him now!" Tarrin's fear and anger were rising, quickly, and it was obviously starting to show on his face.
"Calm yourself, my brother," she replied in the manner of the Cat. "Just stay calm. I will get Sevren, and he will get you out of there." She darted to the doorway, and by the movement of her chest and mouth, she was shouting at the top of her lungs. But he couldn't hear so much as a whisper. "He's on his way," she told him as she started towards him.
"No!" Tarrin said quickly. "We don't know what this is. Stay back until Sevren says it's alright."
"You may be right," she agreed, holding her position about ten paces from him.
Sevren and the other Initiates appeared in the doorway. Tarrin saw Sevren's mouth moving, but he couldn't hear the words. He saw Allia turn and start talking to him, pointing at Tarrin, who had his paws on the barrier and was leaning against it, then made a few imperious gestures. Sevren approached him with an intrigued look on his face, then he stopped at the outside edge and said something. Tarrin shook his head and beat his fists against the barrier. Then Sevren stepped over the edge of the circle.
"--know what it is," his voice simply started. "Can you hear me now?"
"Yes, Master Sevren," he said with an explosive sigh. "How did you get in?"
"It's a standard Warding Circle," he said calmly, like a scientist studying an experiment. "It's a device--" his voice stopped as he stepped outside the circle, and then resumed as he came back in "--contain--er, sorry. It's a magical ward the Mages use to contain the creatures they conjure up from other places. It only works against creatures of magic. I guess that classifies you as such a creature," he said clinically. "Interesting. I'll have to research this."
"Can we do that after you get me out of here?" Tarrin demanded sharply. "I don't like being caged!"
"Hmm," he said, peering at the floor. "I can't see the weave. Oh, wait, yes, this isn't a spell. It's a Ward. Hold on, I need to puzzle this out. Give me a minute." He was quiet for a moment, and actually knelt on the floor and studied the green circle. "A Mage's Circle has symbols of power," he said absently. "Those have to be here. If we can destroy one of them, then the Circle will be broken, and you can get out. So they had to hide them with magic," he reasoned.
"Wait, you can get out if you're a human?" Tarrin asked. "What if I change into a cat?"
"Try it and see," he said after a second's thought.
Tarrin nodded, and quickly assumed his cat shape. That made a couple of the Initiates, including Keritanima, gasp in surprise. Tarrin approached the edge cautiously, then felt the ends of his forward whiskers brush up against something solid. He pushed forward just to be sure, and felt his nose come into contact with the barrier. He changed back with a disgusted look on his face. "No, it's still there," he grunted.
"Try going human," Sevren suggested.
"I--" he started to say that he couldn't, then he remembered Jesmind saying that they could take on a human shape, but only for a very short time. "I'll try," he said. She said it would hurt, so he closed his eyes and clenched his paws into fists, getting ready for it. Then he formed the image of him as he was in his human form, then willed the change.
It was like being dunked in boiling pitch. Every inch of his skin seemed to catch on fire, and his bones began to throb. His blood was like liquid fire in his veins, and his heart began to pound like he'd run across the world with the four moons on his back. He almost fell to his knees under the sudden blazing pain, but he remembered that he was doing it for a reason. He staggered forward, hands out, desperately trying to get over the boundary of the circle before it killed him.
But his hands struck that same invisible barrier.
With an explosive release of breath, Tarrin resumed his normal shape, and fell to his knees panting. A sheen of sweat was glossing his skin, and he was holding his chest in one paw as his tail thrashed violently, nearly tripping Sevren. "Lad, are you alright?" Sevren asked in sudden concern, putting his hands on Tarrin's back. Tarrin felt the icy sensation of Sorcerer's Healing rush through him, and the icy cold froze away the pain and washed most of it out, but it didn't take away the aftershock or the memory.
"Don't you ever ask me to do that again!" he hissed, still panting furiously. "I don't think I'll ever walk right again!" Jesmind had endured that? For six days? He had a very powerful new respect for his bond-mother. He looked at his paw, seeing familiar pads and fur and claws. He could still feel the tingling in them.
"Alright, so you can't just change shape to get out. Hmm," he mused, helping Tarrin stand. "I guess what makes you what you are doesn't change, no matter what shape you wear." He went back to looking at the floor. "I can't see the weaves hiding the runes. They must have stranded them somehow. But they couldn't do that," he said. "Only a Sorcerer can hide a weave."
"Stranded?"
"A technique to hide a weave from a Sorcerer's probes,"
he said absently. "You charge the weave so it can sustain itself, then stretch--nevermind, it's too hard to explain. I'm going to need some help. Stay calm, I'm going to go outside to tell someone to fetch some katzh-dashi. We can erase the runes with Ritual Sorcery, whether we can see them or not." Sevren stood up and stepped outside the barrier, pointing at the blond young man and then motioning him off. Tarrin looked at the floor, trying to fathom what Sevren was talking about. There were symbols on the floor that were making the magical barrier in which he was trapped, symbols that had to be erased. But were they inside or outside? Maybe he could scratch--
The air suddenly became very cold, and a familiar smell saturated the air, the smell of death. A smell Tarrin knew too well, one he would never forget.
The smell of a Wraith.
Chapter 11
It coalesced from the dark shadows that seemed to swirl up from the floor, the immaterial taking form, condensing into the shadowy body and glowing green eyes that Tarrin had seen twice before. The air was bitingly cold, Tarrin's breath misting before him, as if it too was trapped inside the barrier and was isolated from the warmer air outside. The undead shade grew into its full height, and its glowing eyes blazed with sudden evil eagerness as it started to move. Despite the fact that Tarrin was more than a head taller than the undead creation, he had the sensation of being trapped in a cage with a rampaging bear.
It was all an elaborate trap, designed to trap him inside with the Wraith. But knowing that didn't help him at the moment. Baring his fangs, he growled at the creature, the Cat boiling up in his mind to try to wrest control from him. But the Wraith was unimpressed at his show of threat, advancing on him at a slow, almost leisurely manner, almost as if it knew that Tarrin had nowhere to run. It reached for him lazily, and then was surprised when Tarrin was simply not there. Tarrin was ten spans over the creature's head, having vaulted straight up. He pushed off the barrier behind him and landed on the far side of the symbol, quickly taking in his surroundings. The symbol was about ten paces across, which was very little room to maneuver, but he had an unlimited ceiling with which to work. If he had a chance to use it. The Wraith turned around quickly, its eyes glowing in hatred as it advanced on him again.
The Tower of Sorcery Page 51
