A Prince's Errand

by Dan Zangari

  “Halisym is quite rare,” Alanya said. “I think I might have the others. We’ll have to go shopping for the rogulin, though. We can go in the morning.”

  Iltar raised an eyebrow at her. He hadn’t even said he would go through with it.

  Pagus jogged across the grass and stopped in front of Iltar. “So you finished it?” he asked. “Find anything useful?”

  “Maybe,” Iltar said, shrugging. He leaned back in his chair and gazed at the palace towering above the horizon.

  “That’s all you’re going to give me?” Pagus demanded.

  Alanya glanced to Pagus, then stared at Iltar. “What else does it say you have to do?”

  Iltar didn’t answer her right away. Most everything else the author had said seemed sound. “There is a whole list of things,” Iltar said. “Several meditation techniques, even a hypnosis method. Not all of those things are necessary, though. It all comes down to training your sleeping mind to recognize a certain object while dreaming. An object with a symbol, really. The symbol brings you into a state of awareness. Once that happens, you have to manifest a doorway. You then say a strange-sounding incantation—‘Alza Cho’k sa’maz nira’—and open the door. Then you’ll be in Vabenack. The whole thing sounds simple enough, but it could take months or years to get your mind prepared for such awareness while sleeping.”

  “And the elixir is to…?” Alanya asked, sounding confused.

  “Accelerate your progress in becoming aware,” Iltar said. In theory, he wouldn’t need the elixir if his mind was focused enough.

  “There is alchemy involved?” Pagus sounded intrigued.

  “Yes,” Iltar said flatly as Elsia approached.

  “I’m done for the day,” Elsia said, putting her hands on her hips. “How did you fare?” She nodded at Dreamwalker.

  “That is yet to be determined,” Iltar said. “I have some new information, but I don’t know how much of it is valid.”

  Alanya turned to Elsia, looking serious. “We need to go shopping in the morning.” She recited the list of ingredients, noting which they needed.

  “Ground rogulin?” Elsia asked, contemplating the strangeness of the ingredient.

  “I didn’t even know you could eat that stuff…” Pagus muttered.

  “We will have to go to Desirin’s Market,” Alanya said. “Otherwise, we will have to find a conjurer willing to sell us their rogulin crystals.” She turned to Iltar. “I don’t suppose you have any?”

  Iltar just looked at her blankly. Alanya sighed with disappointment and then resumed chatting with Elsia about gathering the ingredients. Iltar was amused that she intended to gather everything for the elixir even though he hadn’t committed to making it.

  Amid the women’s chatting, the acolytes crowded around Iltar and the women. Each looked intrigued, and several gazed at Dreamwalker, still in Iltar’s hands.

  “Did you find what you were looking for, Master Iltar?” asked Kaelar, one of the younger boys. Iltar nodded and rose from his seat. That drew the women’s attention.

  “Are you finished with that?” Elsia asked, gesturing to Dreamwalker.

  “Reading it, yes,” Iltar said, glancing to the book. “I was going to copy the last chapter.”

  “That part has the instructions?” Elsia asked.

  Iltar nodded.

  “I’ll do it,” she said, stepping across the grass to Iltar. Elsia held out her hand. He reluctantly handed the book to her, and she continued, “Besides, I’m not going to let you have all the fun and go off to some strange dream world on your own.”

  Alanya chuckled and crossed her legs, resting her hand on her neck. She looked amused by Elsia’s familiarity with Iltar.

  “We want to go, too!” little Bilda exclaimed. The boy looked at the other acolytes, seeking an affirmation from them. Several of the boys nodded. Iltar studied his acolytes. Dreamwalker claimed that not everyone could mold their minds to enter Vabenack. There was no guarantee that Elsia could join him. Perhaps he should let them try.

  “It’s a dangerous place,” Iltar said. “Whatever happens to you there, happens to you here.”

  That didn’t dissuade the boys. They still looked eager.

  “All right,” Iltar said with a nod. “You can study Elsia’s notes. There’s a list of meditation techniques you can practice. But”—he waggled a finger at the boys—“no making concoctions. I will handle the elixir.”

  The boys whooped and Bilda danced excitedly.

  Elsia stepped past Iltar, holding Dreamwalker. “Why don’t you all get cleaned up, and we can read this together,” she said. “Pagus, you can transcribe for me.”

  Pagus nodded respectfully to his aunt while the other acolytes dashed across the lawn. They soon disappeared inside the guesthouse.

  Turning to Iltar, Elsia asked, “Are you coming?”

  Was he? Iltar hadn’t thought about where he would spend the night. Would Alanya invite him back?

  Iltar glanced back to the high duchess, who stared at him with a devious grin. Was that an invitation?

  “I take that as a no,” Elsia said, and Pagus whistled. Iltar gave the boy a sharp glance. “Good night, Iltar,” Elsia said, and walked back to the guesthouse with her nephew, leaving Iltar with Alanya.

  Cool fingers wrapped around Iltar’s hand. “Let’s go,” Alanya whispered in his ear.

  It was happening again. Perhaps he would become accustomed to waking beside a beautiful woman.

  “The Harbinger will be a vagabond, cast out from his own country. None shall receive him.”

  - Prophecy of Soron Thahan

  Cornar rode with his men at the back of the expedition. He wanted to keep an eye on Jahevial, and he couldn’t do that from the front. Much of the day’s journey had been through thick forests, and Cornar couldn’t see much of what lay ahead, though he knew they were close to Klindil. The day before, they had set up camp in a field near the forest. Beyond the trees rose mountains and the vague shapes of towering ruins. That view had disappeared once they resumed their trek.

  Excited chatter from the expedition’s head reached Cornar and the others.

  “I think we’re there,” Gregan observed. He was driving one of the wagons.

  The expedition turned, following the path, and Cornar could see the tree line.

  Soon, they were out of the trees and on the plain where Klindil’s tent stood. The ruined metropolis sprawled across a valley, nestled between two mountain ranges. The ruins looked bigger than Soroth, much bigger. Stone buildings were toppled, but some were intact. The buildings didn’t reach as high as those depicted in Krindal’s magical map, but they were still towering. Perhaps the map is a representation of what the city used to look like.

  “Wow!” Ordreth shouted. “It’s magnificent!” Some of the other warriors muttered similar accolades of excitement. Cornar, however, just stared at the ruins. He had seen a similar sight years ago.

  “Looks like Karthar, doesn’t it?” Igan asked, guiding his horse up beside Cornar.

  “It does,” Cornar nodded. Had Karthar looked like Klindil? Karthar’s ruins were tall, but Cornar had thought them rising no more than a dozen stories.

  “Karthar?” Ordreth asked. “I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to reach Karthar. Isn’t it protected by magic, or something?”

  “It is,” Igan replied. “But old Amendal found a way to sneak our band past the twisted barsion.”

  “When did that happen?”

  “Before you were born,” Cornar answered, focusing on the scholars near the middle of the expedition. He could marvel at the ruins another time. He had to keep an eye on Jahevial. Cornar had to know what that man was up to…

  Igan related some of the details about the adventure. He told Ordreth that the only known way to enter Karthar was through a gate in the mountains. No one had ever successfully breached it, because a tribe called the Yelinail killed anyone who attempted to reach the gate. They called the canyon where the gate resided the Path to So
rrow, and for good reason.

  In addition to the murderous mountain men, the entire region of Karthar was surrounded by cliffs, wide rivers, and mountains. People said to have braved the natural barriers found walls of deadly magic that could destroy a man in an instant. But all this didn’t stop old Amendal. He possessed a tevisral that enabled them to bypass the magic, using a conjuration portal to teleport into the Karthar region.

  Ordreth was awestruck at the tale. Cornar didn’t know why. Hadn’t he told his nephew about all his adventures? Perhaps Ordreth had forgotten.

  The leaders of the expedition called for the camp to be set up between the ruins and the forest, a distance of about three grand phineals. The Mindolarnians erected their war camp exactly halfway between both.

  Many of the members of his band helped, setting up their own tents near the Imperial Tent. Cornar, however, wandered through the camp shrouded in Sharon’s cloak. He kept a close eye on Jahevial.

  After erecting the tents with the other scholars and Mindolarn servants, Jahevial sneaked out of his tent. He hurried through the outer ring of the war camp, which was partially constructed. No one paid attention to him.

  Where are you going? Cornar wondered, keeping his distance from the scholar.

  Jahevial went straightway toward the forest, clutching his robe the entire way. Cornar was careful not to get too close once Jahevial got into the trees, but he was still close enough to see and hear everything that Jahevial was doing.

  Once Jahevial was well within the trees, he reached beneath his robe, removing a forearm-length rod with a gem on one end and a porous sphere on the other. He brushed his finger over the gem in a clockwise pattern and then touched some protrusions along the rod. The gem pulsed a pale blue, glowing with what looked like magic. Was that a tevisral? Cornar had never seen anything like it.

  Jahevial cleared his throat and brought the porous end toward his face. “We’ve reached the edge of the ruins,” the scholar said, speaking into the porous sphere. “It is grander than I imagined! The prince still hasn’t returned, but the Wildmen we found in Anigar escorted us. We didn’t encounter any resistance.” He tapped the gemstone, and the light faded. Jahevial just stood there.

  Was he waiting for something?

  The gemstone pulsed a dark-orange hue, and then Jahevial touched the gem in a counter-clockwise pattern. A voice came from the porous end. It sounded familiar.

  “We’re glad to hear that. When will you be searching the ruins?”

  Jahevial twirled the rod and tapped the gem, then swept across it in a clockwise pattern. “Hopefully tonight, Krindal wants to start examining the nearby buildings. But I doubt we’ll find anything. Once Kaescis arrives, we’ll be moving to the city’s heart. Cornar Dol’shir noticed a place to access to the tunnel network, so we’re going to try there.”

  Who was Jahevial talking to? The voice was distorted, sounding odd.

  “Do you still suspect him watching you?” asked the voice in the tevisral.

  “I didn’t notice him yesterday,” Jahevial said. “And today I haven’t seen him. He was riding with his band and not up front, so I lost track of him as we were setting up camp.”

  “Be wary, Jahevial. Cornar is not a man to be trifled with.”

  “I know, Grandmaster Alacor, I’ll be careful.”

  Alacor? Why was Jahevial talking with him? And how did he get this tevisral? Cornar wasn’t aware of the Necrotic Order possessing tevisrals like this…

  Jahevial jumped, looking farther into the trees. Cornar followed his gaze. There was someone lurking nearby. Careful to not make any noise, Cornar crept through the trees to get a better look.

  “I have to go…” Jahevial whispered. “I’m being watched.” He tapped on the tevisral’s gem and tucked it beneath his robe. Jahevial tiptoed backward, still gazing into the woods.

  As the scholar retreated, a tall figure moved behind one of the trees. It can’t be. It was that same sharp face he’d seen the night the scholars excavated the path. This time, Cornar could clearly see the spy’s features. Those pointed ears were unmistakable. He was an elf.

  So, Krindal’s fears weren’t unfounded, Cornar thought, watching the elf ease away from the tree. I should follow him.

  This time, the elf calmly retreated. Cornar was not about to lose him. He needed to find out what this elf was up to, and why he was spying on the expedition. He crept behind the elf for a time, and then the ground shook. Another tremor? The tremor grew into violent shaking. No. It was an earthquake!

  Cornar fell, and so did the elf. Trees cracked, tumbling around them. The elf scurried away from a falling trunk, but the felled tree pinned his leg. The elf cried out, but forced an incantation through clenched teeth. Gray magic wisped into the tree, lifting it into the air.

  Who is this elf? Cornar wondered, dodging another tree as it fell. The ground continued shaking, and he dropped to his knees. Was this an actual earthquake? A resounding crack echoed from the ground. What was that?

  The grass and dirt shook, and then it all collapsed, swallowing up the elf.

  Cornar felt himself falling; he hit something hard and slid. Sunlight disappeared as he fell into an abyss. His head bounced against another hard surface but he kept sliding. That last hit made him dizzy. It was hard to keep his eyes open… and everything was so dark.

  * * * * *

  Krindal braced himself under the table in the war room of the Imperial Tent. Polished stones, used to hold down the maps of Klindala, fell from the table.

  “This is a big one!” Hezidex shouted. He was huddled beside Crenai near the table’s other legs.

  The ground shook, and Krindal jolted upward, hitting his head against the table. He blinked several times, spots clouding his vision as he tried to focus. Crenai groaned.

  The earthquake continued for a little while longer, then subsided.

  My head, Krindal moaned to himself, rubbing the spot that hit the table.

  “We need to check the camp,” Hezidex shouted, moving out from under the table.

  Krindal crawled behind the grand marshal. The tent had remained standing through the entire earthquake, probably because of the tevisrals holding it in place. He stumbled past some Crimson Praetorians and entered the Royal ring of the camp. The ground felt… uneven. It was like he was on a slope. Some of Cornar’s men were helping each other up and checking their collapsed tents.

  The whole war camp looked to be in shambles. He could see parts of the outer ring from here. That wasn’t possible when everything was set up correctly. That part of the outer ring looked lower than the rest…

  A horse bolted through the war camp, crying a panicked whinny.

  A rumbling crash resounded to the north, toward the ruins. That worried him. Krindal looked toward the sound but couldn’t see much beyond the tents, even though most were toppled. The ground to the north looked like it was tilted.

  He hurried through the war camp, picking his way across the collapsed tents. The ground was uneven, the east higher than the west. He made it to the camp’s edge to behold a frightful sight.

  That part of the plain where the war camp sat was higher than the city, tipping at an angle. Though the war camp was raised, Krindal could still see the ruins of Klindil.

  One of the buildings had already collapsed, and another was sliding. The walls broke apart and then fell in a resounding crash. Other buildings were falling in the distance. Some of the tallest buildings—which were previously unseen from their old vantage point—were tilting. The buildings looked to be in the spot where they had planned to search for the entrance to the tunnels.

  “No…” he groaned, dropping to his knees. Please, do not block my path. I must reach the temple. Krindal watched in horror as one of the tall buildings faltered and crashed against another. Both buildings fell, burying other structures beneath them.

  Horrified by the sight, Krindal remained on his knees while the expedition scurried about behind him.

  * * * * *
>
  “Did Cor make it back?” Gregan demanded. Kalder stood warily. Was the earthquake finished? Mindolarn soldiers were frantically moving about the camp.

  “Kalder!” Gregan shouted.

  “I don’t know,” Kalder answered. “We need to check on everyone first, then we can look for Cor.”

  Kalder and Gregan searched through the camp for their companions in adventure. Luckily, everyone was accounted for; not one soul had been lost. There were a few bumps and bruises but nothing that wouldn’t mend with time.

  “Where’s my uncle?” Ordreth asked.

  “I didn’t see him in the camp,” Nordal said. “Did anyone see the scholar?”

  “Jahevial?” Igan asked. “I haven’t.”

  “We should start looking,” Kalder said. “Break up into your usual groups of three. I’m going back toward the forest. Gregan, bring your group. We’ll search together.”

  The warriors and mages divided into their groups and hurried through the camp, searching for Jahevial. Kalder and Igan walked together, followed by Gregan, Vargos, and Aron. They exited the camp and marveled at the now-plateau that the war camp sat upon.

  “By all that’s magical…” Vargos muttered, gasping.

  Kalder could see the ruins of Klindil breaking apart from the earthquake. It’s a good thing we’re not in there, he thought. Or below ground. He thought of the entire expedition buried under a collapsing city, trapped. The idea sickened him.

  “Look!” Gregan shouted, pointing down the slope in the plateau toward the trees.

  Kalder spun about, seeing a robed figure approaching. Jahevial… Kalder hurried toward the man. Jahevial noticed their hasty approach and shied away, acting as if he were simply moving out of their path.

  “Did you see Cornar?” Kalder demanded.

  “Why would I have seen him?” Jahevial asked, climbing the slope back to the shambles of the war camp.