by Dan Zangari
“We said that we’d fetch them,” Kalder said.
Both warrior and wizard stepped inside and closed the door.
“What do you want us to hand over to them?” Igan asked.
“You choose,” Cornar said, waving to the bookshelves. The tomes were the only things of value in the room. They probably weren’t worth much, though. The tomes were odd. Their covers were strange and their pages were oddly glossy. Each looked too pristine.
Igan nodded and stepped across the room. He began reading the names on the spines. “Science of Tevisral Manufacturing. The Art of Galvin Weapons. Uh, I don’t know what that says.” He skipped past a few books, then continued reading. “Words of Power. The City of Ithil. Strategies of the Thousand Years War—”
“What?” Cornar asked, interrupting Igan.
“Does that one sound interesting, Cor?” Igan asked, pulling a dark-blue tome from the shelf. Its title was embossed with a glossy tint.
Thousand Years War… that’s what Solidin had called the fabled Dragon Wars.
“Keep that one,” Cornar said.
Igan handed Strategies of the Thousand Years War to Demsal, who put it into one of the party’s sloglien sacks. The wizard kept reading but none of the other books stood out to Cornar. They had some strange titles. Some sounded like they could be fiction. Igan handed several books to Demsal, telling him to put them in the sack. Others he left on the shelves.
“We saw a few duplicates of these,” Igan said, gesturing to the sack with the books. “The rest we’ll hand over to the scholars. I’m sure Iltar will be interested in the one about making tevisrals.” He grinned, looking to Cornar as if expecting a reply.
Iltar would find that interesting. Cornar raised an eyebrow. Why hadn’t he thought of that when Igan read the title? Was he that bothered by both Krindal and Kaescis?
Someone snickered and Igan continued talking. “Perhaps I should snag two copies,” the wizard said. “One for him, and one for me.” He grabbed a few of the books on the shelves, and then headed to the door.
“We could use a hand,” Kalder said, taking several books from the shelves.
Ordreth, Demsal, Shen, and Grensil each gathered a stack of books. But the shelves still had books on them.
Those still in the room with Cornar relaxed, and Gregan returned to his beans, shoveling more into his mouth. “And here I thought this was going to be more exciting,” Gregan said between mouthfuls.
“You don’t think discovering this temple is exciting?” Hem asked. He sounded dumbfounded.
“Umm, no,” Gregan said, chewing his beans. “There’s no way to profit off it. What am I supposed to do? Set up a booth in the courtyard and charge people to come tour it? I don’t think tourists will make it past the purple imps.”
Vargos laughed, shaking his head.
“I’m serious!” Gregan said, his mouth full.
“But you could sell your experience!” Hem exclaimed. “Write the tale, or tell it in taverns.”
“You’re suggesting I become a bard?” Gregan asked, not amused.
“Why not?” Hem asked innocently. Gregan shook his head and rolled his eyes.
They continued bantering but Cornar ignored them, closing his eyes. He was feeling tired. Perhaps I can go back to that dreamland, Cornar thought. He yearned to find out how Melthas’s fate intertwined with the latest turn of events. Take me back to Laelin Lake, he pleaded.
Cornar lay down and got comfortable, using his pack as a pillow. He often did that while exploring the world. He tried to sleep, but couldn’t. His men had come and gone, but their traffic didn’t bother him. Cornar could fall asleep in such conditions.
Hours passed, but he couldn’t sleep.
Cornar felt a kick against his boot. He immediately opened his eyes, finding Nordal standing nearby.
“I thought you were sleeping,” Nordal said.
“I was trying to sleep…”
“Well, we’re leaving,” the warrior said. “Kaescis has called a meeting in that center room.”
Cornar sighed and slung his pack over his shoulder. It held a couple of the books they had swiped from the shelves. He followed Nordal back to the temple’s central chamber. The room was crowded, with men standing in the adjoining hallways. It wasn’t big enough to fit everyone inside.
Nordal and Cornar stood at the back of one of the halls, behind the other warriors. Some of Cornar’s men noticed him and invited him to stand at their head.
I probably should be up there, he thought, pushing his way into the central chamber.
Kaescis stood on the second-story balcony, beneath the area where the attunement chamber was located. Krindal was with the prince, as were the other Mindolarnian leaders. Two other men were with Kaescis, neither of whom Cornar recognized. Ordreth had told him about the Wildmen Kaescis had brought from the plains. Some had become human. Those two must have been them.
Who are you, really? Cornar focused on the prince. Perhaps when he was done dreaming of his father and his Elites, Cornar could enter the role of Kaescis’s servant. He might learn something observing him in private.
“I hope everyone can hear me!” Kaescis shouted. “There is something that must be said about this quest. It has been quite an ordeal. Some of you have whispered rumors of finding tevisrals and artifacts. Unfortunately, those things are not here in Klindil.” The prince paused.
“So he knew we weren’t going to find anything the whole time,” Igan groaned.
“I’m sorry, Master Igan,” Tinal said, patting Igan on the shoulder.
“Not your fault, kid,” Igan said. “I just don’t like being deceived.”
Cornar sympathized completely with the wizard. Krindal and the Mindolarnians had dug a trench of distrust between Cornar and his band. That trench felt like it was slowly widening into a chasm every passing moment.
“This place was only a stepping stone,” Kaescis continued. “What we are truly after lies on an island that has been lost for centuries. But this temple holds its location. There we will find tevisrals of legend. Weapons more powerful than any of you can imagine.”
Dalgilur, Cornar thought.
“Some of you know this place as the Isle of the Ancient Ones, the fabled birthplace of humanity.”
A few of the men muttered in confusion. Kaescis relayed details about this hidden leg of the adventure, but Cornar didn’t pay attention. Reaching Dalgilur was a race they were bound to lose. The Sapphire Guard had enough of a head start that they would most assuredly claim the island first.
“… Grand Marshal Galiur will stay behind to assist the Wildmen” —What was that? Cornar had missed everything Kaescis said before that announcement—“as well as a small contingent of our soldiers.”
The prince went on to talk about the relationship between the Mindolarn Empire and the Wildmen of Klindala. It was a speech full of political rhetoric. The tribal leader they had encountered in the Fortress of Anigar—Gevistra—was accompanying them to Dalgilur. Several hundred Wildmen soldiers were also accompanying the expedition, offsetting the Mindolarnians staying on Klindala. Kaescis announced Gevistra’s position as the future ambassador between his people and the Mindolarnians.
“Those not staying will proceed to the courtyard,” the prince commanded.
Back in the temple’s courtyard, Cornar stood beside the doors, waiting. He sighed, not looking forward to the trek through the tunnels. Reaching the surface would take longer this time with such a large group.
“They should just have us go ahead,” Nordal complained.
“But we’ve got to move in formation,” Midar said in a mocking tone. “We’re part of an army.” Nordal said, chuckling.
It didn’t take long for most everyone to gather. The courtyard was actually quite crowded, with no room to move. This was a bad spot for accommodating two hundred men, let alone the thousand who were to make the trek back to Kretin. Cornar couldn’t tell how many were in the courtyard, but plenty of people were still i
nside the temple—Mindolarnian and Wildman alike.
Of those still inside, only about fifty Mindolarnians were to stay behind to secure the temple. The Wildmen not joining the army were staying to help, as the temple was technically in their territory.
After a while, the prince entered the courtyard, carrying a large blue sphere the size of a man’s head. Was that rogulin? It had the same blue tint and golden flecks. Cornar had never seen a rogulin crystal so large or so refined.
Rogulin was a type of substance used to catalyze teleportation spells. In Cornar’s most recent dream, Adrin would have needed rogulin in order to cast the teleportation spell to evacuate the horses. In fact, Adrin probably had two rogulin crystals; one to teleport to where they stored the horses and another to return to Melthas and the others.
In order for that type of portal transportation to work, conjurers would bind rogulin to themselves. Whoever used the conjurer’s crystal would teleport back to the conjurer. It was the only known method of instantaneous travel… unless one possessed a conjuration anchor—a type of tevisral which bound rogulin. Cornar had only ever known of two such tevisrals. One was in Iltar’s possession, and the other was held by old Amendal. However, Cornar had noticed one in the dream with his father—that black dome he glimpsed in the tunnel.
Kaescis pushed his way to the center of the courtyard. “We will all need to be touching in order for this to work,” the prince said.
Commotion sounded throughout the courtyard as everyone gripped someone else.
That’s why you weren’t in a hurry, Cornar thought. Kaescis intended to teleport somewhere. Back to the ships, perhaps? No, there wasn’t enough room on any of the vessels’ decks.
“Make sure whoever you’re touching is touching someone else that eventually touches me,” Kaescis said. “If you don’t have a connection to me, you won’t be teleported. If you are left behind, there will be one more teleportation. And you will probably be disoriented. Be ready to remove any helmets or headgear.”
Everyone took a moment to check if they were connected to the prince. Some people had to shuffle around, but after a short while everyone in the courtyard was connected.
Kaescis uttered an incantation, and golden light shone from his rogulin sphere. It grew into an aura that surrounded him, and then erupted in a wave, washing over everyone. Cornar couldn’t see anything but golden light.
The light faded after a moment. Some of the men wobbled away from each other, disoriented by the teleportation. Many vomited; that was common with people who had never traveled by teleportation.
Cornar held his breath and walked away from the stench. He looked skyward, noting the time of day. Twilight was upon wherever they were. It was obviously night time, as the sun was setting in the east.
“It took you long enough!” Cornar knew that voice… it belonged to that woman. Laeyit.
The bizarre woman sat upon a large rock, chewing on a half-eaten piece of fruit. “I’ve been sitting here all day,” Laeyit said, not amused.
How had she survived?
“Laeyit!” Bratan shouted, dashing to the woman. He barreled past soldiers recovering from the teleportation. Bratan scooped her up and spun her around, laughing. “They said you were dead!”
“Probably would have been if that chasm wasn’t so deep,” she said. “Now put me down, you big brute.”
Cornar turned away from the reunion, searching for any clues to their whereabouts. A farmhouse was nearby… It looked like that place where they had stayed in Klarin. There was a forest nearby, and the sound of running water. There was a stream by the farmhouse, he remembered, looking to the south. Faint lights stood out among short buildings; a village.
There was no mistaking it. They were in Klarin.
Kaescis pushed his way through the soldiers recovering from the teleportation. The prince had since handed the rogulin sphere to someone else and was clutching a black disk.
It can’t be… Cornar thought, bemused. The prince was holding a conjuration anchor.
“You see, I told you she was fine,” Kaescis said to Bratan. The prince sounded jovial. The three of them bantered for a bit and Cornar listened until someone put a hand to his shoulder.
It was Vargos. “Whatcha staring at, boy?” he asked.
“He’s got a conjuration anchor,” Cornar whispered.
Vargos hummed and squinted at Kaescis. “Interesting…” The prince noticed them staring at him and cocked his head questioningly. “Whatcha got there?” Vargos called.
Subtle, Vargos… Cornar groaned inwardly.
“This?” Kaescis asked, holding up the conjuration anchor. It was a palm-sized disk with a shallow dome. “It’s a tevisral. It essentially replaces a conjurer when using rogulin crystals. Handy device.” He handed it to Laeyit, who slipped it into her tunic, probably placing it within a hidden pocket. “Why don’t you move that off a bit, Laeyit,” Kaescis said, gesturing to the vacant parts of the field. “We have another group coming.”
Laeyit nodded and darted away from the army.
The last of the vomiting ceased, and then Kaescis addressed everyone. “We have just teleported back to the town of Klarin. Take a moment to ready yourselves, as we will be marching back to Kretin at once.”
That’ll take at least six hours, Cornar thought. He looked eastward, in the direction of Klindil. They would be a few days ahead of Solidin, if the Sapphire Guard were coming westward. But Kaescis said they hadn’t spotted their vessel moored in Kretin or any of the nearby ports. They could have disguised it. Solidin had mages that could do that sort of thing. Or they could have moored along another part of the shore.
Grand Marshal Hezidex shouted a few commands, and the Mindolarn forces fell into formation. The Sorothian scholars busily gathered their things, their packs full of plunder from the temple. Several squads of soldiers began their march before the scholars were ready.
A burst of golden light erupted a short distance away. The rest of the army appeared, as well as many of the conscripted Wildmen. Wails and vomiting echoed across the field, undoubtedly coming from the isle’s natives.
Amid the sounds of disoriented anguish, the scholars began their march.
Cornar gestured for his men to wait. He wanted to keep some distance between his band and the scholars. Once the scholars were out of earshot, Cornar motioned for his men to begin their march. As his band began to move, Cornar’s eyes fell upon Jahevial. The secretive scholar walked to the side of his cohorts. Cornar had nearly forgotten about Jahevial and his secret plot with Alacor, what with all the commotion with Solidin.
I can’t trust anyone here besides my men, Cornar thought. Though Cornar was a member of this expedition, he didn’t feel part of it anymore. Cornar and his band were simply tagging along. That wouldn’t be the case on Dalgilur. Whatever he found would be theirs. He wouldn’t share any discoveries with Krindal or Kaescis.
Resolving upon this roguish attitude, Cornar led his men through Klarin. Soon, they’d be back in Kretin and aboard the Promised Maiden.
* * * * *
Solidin ran at the head of the Sapphire Guard, swiftly winding through a colorful forest along the eastern coast of Klindala. Their ruse with the Wildmen had worked. The illusionist who made Solidin look like Kaescis had even crafted a replica of the prince’s gigantic demonic sword.
The light of a campfire shone through the trees and Solidin called for a halt.. He cautiously stepped through the trees, entering a clearing.
Twenty or so elves sat around the fire, speaking in Elvish: the crew of the Vigilance. Captain Teviz noticed Solidin and stood with a salute.
“Ah, Solidin!” the captain said, cheerily approaching. He was slightly overweight, with neatly cut blond hair. Teviz was the son of High Lord Helius and would eventually inherit the position once his father passed. “It is good you have returned.” Teviz counted the members of the Sapphire Guard. “Any casualties?” Teviz asked.
“Fourteen,” Solidin said, and turned from
the camp, walking to the shore. The captain trailed behind him. “We have no time to waste, Teviz.”
Captain Teviz frowned. “What tevisrals did you find?”
“None,” Solidin said dispassionately. Damn merchants.
“None?!” Teviz blurted. “The High Lords won’t be pleased.”
Of course they wouldn’t.
“We recorded much about the temple,” Solidin said. “I’m sure someone can compile it into a book worth selling.”
“Surely you do not think a book will be of great value to the Aristocracy…”
Solidin shot a glance of annoyance at Teviz. “I’m sure we’ll find what you’re looking for on Dalgilur.”
“Ah… so it does exist,” the captain said, sounding pleased. They stopped at the rocky shore, and Teviz clapped his hands twice, then shouted, “Eka’sila asilum!”
The Vigilance appeared in the water, shedding its veil of invisibility. It was a grand ship, although it didn’t appear to be much different from other trading vessels. The High Lords of the Aristocracy wanted to make it look humble. It had the appearance of a wooden vessel, though the hull was created from valistine, a material that neither rusted nor rotted.
Solidin climbed the gangway with the captain close behind him. “I need a map of Kalda,” he said.
“I have charts on the bridge,” Teviz said. “But why not use your tevisral?”
“Because it was destroyed,” Solidin said. He knew he would get chided for allowing that to occur. Damn High Lords probably wanted to sell it. Teviz sighed, exasperated.
Solidin crossed the main deck, passing two of the four masts. He and the captain went to a doorway leading to the aft interior parts of the ship, where ladders led to the other decks.
The bridge was on the third deck above the main, completely enclosed. Windows lined the forward hull, allowing a view when the sails were furled. Solidin could see many of his soldiers filing aboard the Vigilance. Some dropped their gear near the forecastle while others filed below deck.
