Royal Falcon

by Chris Svartbeck

  “Oh!” Ioro thought for a moment. Then, a smile appeared on his earnest face. “They should start doing that at court! It would certainly be interesting to see how much the courtiers would squirm if they were only able to speak the truth!” He grew serious again. “But I still want to know why you waited so long.”

  “Flying a falcon into the palace would have been too noticeable,” Jok admitted. “The wrong eyes certainly would have seen. Master Go doesn’t know what I do in my free time. He certainly wouldn’t be pleased if he knew I was in contact with outsiders. And I simply wasn’t able to get into the palace with other animals.”

  Ioro remembered the mirror the falcon was wearing. “Can’t you look into the palace with a mirror?”

  “No. The palace is shielded. A spell protects the walls and keeps out curious eyes.”

  “Why are you wearing the mirror then?”

  “I can switch to other animals with its help.”

  Ioro thought for a moment. “What if I wear the mirror?” he asked. “Could you also reach me directly through the mirror?”

  “That might work!” Jok was suddenly very excited. His way into the palace was close enough to touch. “The falcon is wearing a mirror on a string. When I return to the falcon, you can take the mirror, but be careful and only touch it with your bare hand if you want to call me. Mirrors can be extremely dangerous. And hide it well. If someone sees you wearing a sorcerer’s mirror, they may ask uncomfortable questions.”

  Jok was itching to try it out. He immediately returned to the falcon.

  Ioro wrapped a piece of his tunic around his hand and carefully took the mirror from the falcon. Then he hid the mirror in a bag. Jok flew the falcon up. Just in time. The hunting attendants were already approaching.

  The attendants looked at Ioro with a more than odd, but reverent expression. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that a falcon had flown up from where the prince was waiting for them beside his kill. Without doubt, Ioro was a true son of the House of Mehme!

  Lessons

  By the next moon, Jok was able to withstand a combined attack from two sides for quite a while. Tevi made a major contribution by helping his friend quickly regenerate his energy after the combat exercises. Master Go expanded the exercises to three attackers and moved them to the arena. He told Jok the energy levels had become too high for the dormant tower mirrors. It was just like both previous lessons. Jok’s defense barely held out for two blinks of an eye and his energies were mercilessly plundered. If possible, his defeat here was even more thorough because the crystals in the arena greedily absorbed any stray scraps of energy. Jok only had one tiny advantage. He knew all three of the energy signatures involved by heart and quickly learned to adjust to the changing attack patterns. He needed exactly half a moon before he was able to withstand the three-man attack for a while. Master Go then immediately terminated that exercise.

  A new chapter of Jok’s education began. Fine tuning and the use of mirrors. Master Go was replenishing his energies from the Blues, whom he called to the tower in rapid succession and subjected to his mirror attacks. He allowed Jok to watch several times. A rimless, oblong mirror which he placed in Jok’s hand without comment, allowed the adept to observe the Blues’ deeper energy currents during the exercise. Tevi’s defense shield consisted of the clear, linear crystal Jok knew so well from his friend’s mind. Below that lay a balled, rippling mass of light-blue glowing energy.

  Miramee still appeared to be the weakest. Her defense was like a structure of honeycombs, humming in the same dark yellow as her energy. Still, she was able to withstand the attacks for a relatively long time. That didn’t make sense. Jok observed Master Go’s attack. Miramee’s defense was soft and pliable. That is why it appeared weak. But it was tough at the same time. He understood. The soft surface had completely misled him. Miramee had the best defense of all the Blues.

  Sacan was, in fact, the weakest. Her shield projected a milky-white wall that completely flew apart in large chunks under Master Go’s attacks. Sacan’s energies looked like an indistinct, dirty-white fog.

  Sistero’s energies also created a wall, but it looked like it was made of black basalt, dense and compact, just like his energies. Jok agreed with Master Go’s assessment. Tevi and Sistero were almost equally strong despite their vastly different energy structures.

  It didn’t surprise him that Master Go promoted Tevi, Sistero and Miramee to adept candidates before long. Sacan took over the new Blues’ lessons.

  Master Go systematically guided Jok through all of his mirrors. They were more diverse than Jok had believed possible. Go had mirrors for every purpose imaginable, from the large weather mirrors, which were only permitted to be used with the Crystal Chamber’s approval, to the fire mirrors, which could melt entire fortresses and cities and were used for war before the pact, to a palm-sized, round mirror Master Go used to keep his tea warm. Jok was fascinated. He wasn’t allowed to use all of the mirrors. Master Go kept him away from the larger ones.

  “Soul mirrors,” he reminded Jok, “may only be used by others with the express permission and consent of the owner. Any illegal use will lead to catastrophe.”

  “What can happen?” Jok asked.

  “If the sorcerer is weak, the mirror will simply absorb him. Then, it is a wild mirror and can no longer be controlled. In that case, all you can do is destroy it. That is, if it hasn’t grown too powerful for that. Or, the mirror may come into contact with a stronger sorcerer, suddenly discharge and implode. Not much remains of the user when that happens.”

  Jok looked at the mirrors with new respect. There were several he had never seen Master Go use. He stopped in front of the largest. It was a head-high, almost rectangular mirror in a carved frame made of ebony. Jok had never seen the style before. “That is the mirror, Sotamatakimote.” Master Go was standing behind him, also looking up at the strange mirror. He spoke with great respect. “I inherited it from my predecessor. It has no master, like many of the soul mirrors here whose owners died before they were able to pass them on. No one can use it. Despite all the years that have passed, it still bears the powerful signature of its creator.” He stretched out his hand as though to touch the mirror, but quickly retracted it. “The mirror is very old. Judging by the frame, it must come from the era in which the House of Nahne began, so it has to be at least six hundred years old. It is a seven-soul mirror; the most powerful kind of all. No mirror can hold more than seven souls.”

  “What happens if you try to capture an eighth?” Jok asked.

  “That has been tried exactly twice,” Master Go responded. “Tw tried it four hundred and thirty-eight years ago during the revolt against the Crystal Chamber.”

  Jok pricked up his ears. He had never heard of a revolt against the Crystal Chamber.

  “The energy overflowed and melted the entire area. Tw was pulled in too. The Crater of Lost Souls is there now. The ground was melted into glass. Those nine souls will wander the grounds there as long as this world exists.”

  “And the other time?”

  “Only legends mention it. It was long before the kingdom was founded. As the story goes, the sorcerer tried to fill his six-soul mirror with the signatures of a pair of twins. His house was on an island in the Toloran Sea. The island has since disappeared. There are reefs and abysses where it was supposedly located. The fishermen avoid the area. They say, the lost souls sing sorrowful songs at night and try to lure the living to them. Once in a while, whole ships disappear. Not even a piece of wreckage remains of them.” Go was still looking at the mirror with a hungry expression. “This mirror is stable. Unfortunately, no one can use it anymore. It has no master, like most of the mirrors in the tower.”

  Jok’s head whipped around. “Most of them?” he asked. “I thought they were all your mirrors!”

  The corners of Master Go’s mouth twitched. “That would be nice,” he growled. “It takes centuries for a masterless mirror to adjust to a new owner and I haven’t had these mirrors that l
ong. And I could certainly use them. Unfortunately, my work requires that I continue to use my own soul mirrors. Any spell large enough will ultimately destroy them.”

  Jok remembered the village spring. The mirror had turned into a hole in the ground. He understood. Yes, Master Go did, in fact, need his mirrors.

  “... can hardly keep up with production,” he heard Master Go saying, his voice morose. “People seem to think that I create my mirrors with a wave of my hand!”

  Jok thought of the many students he had seen disappear from this house over the course of the past eleven years. His voice sounded reserved. “How many mirrors have you already created, Master?”

  “Around eight hundred,” Go responded. His eyes twinkled like a hungry clouded leopard.

  Around eight hundred? But Go seldom gained more than a dozen new students every year! Jok instinctively took a step back. “How old are you?” he asked apprehensively.

  “Two hundred and eighty monsoon seasons.”

  Jok’s head was spinning. Master Go barely looked older than thirty or forty monsoon seasons old. “How is that possible?”

  Go’s smile looked more like him baring his teeth. “With each soul mirror I create, I harvest a bit of life for myself. Enough to significantly extend my lifespan.”

  His head jerked forward, so his eyes were barely a hand’s width from Jok’s face. Jok froze under his merciless gaze.

  “This is important! Only experience creates truly great sorcerers. It takes time to gather experience. Think, you fool. How long did you need just to learn the fundamentals of sorcery?”

  Master Go stepped back. He dismissed Jok with a wave of his hand. The young man hurried out as quickly as he could.

  *

  Ioro quickly figured out how to invite his sorcerer friend to visit him. If he covered the mirror, nothing happened. As soon as he uncovered the mirror, or even touched it, Jok seemed to know he could come to him. Of course, Jok didn’t always have time. He was most often able to come during the midday hour or late in the evening. Ioro also quickly learned how to remain active during these meetings and maintain control over his body. Jok was quite willing to sit in a corner of Ioro’s consciousness and watch the prince deal with other matters. Jok asked questions. He asked things that small children in Sawateenatari took in with their mother’s milk. He didn’t know the great merchant houses or the noble coats of arms. He knew nothing of politics and had also not heard any of the most recent gossip. He wasn’t familiar with any politicians, actors or the most popular wrestlers. He had never heard of alcohol and knew nothing of the boat races. Yes, he even said he couldn’t swim. It seemed to Ioro as though Jok had never been among normal people.

  Jok didn’t talk much about himself and what he did reveal didn’t sound particularly interesting to Ioro. Ioro couldn’t quite fathom the life of a sorcerer. Imprisoned in a remote house for a lifetime; to grow up there and see nothing of the world? How awful it must be! No wonder Jok’s curiosity seemed boundless.

  It was somewhat impractical in the long-term to take the little mirror out and put it away every time. Ioro asked Jok if he knew of a more practical solution. In fact, Jok did have another idea. Ioro had a small dagger he carried hidden on him. Jok convinced him to completely surrender his body to him for a few heartbeats. Ioro allowed it. Sitting in the corner of one’s own body, not seeing or feeling anything that body was doing was a strange sensation. Before his unease turned to fear, Jok was already finished and returned control to him. The mirror had fused with the dagger and was now a long, bare strip of mirror that ran from the hilt to the tip. As long as the dagger was in its sheath, the mirror was safely protected. If he had to use it, no one would notice in a fight that he had a dagger with an ornamental strip of mirror.

  “It also offers another benefit,” Jok noted factually. “I altered the mirror so it will warn you if another person’s magic is nearby. You can even deflect a minor magical attack with it.”

  Ioro turned the dagger in his hand. Such an inconspicuous weapon with such powerful capabilities. Apparently, having a sorcerer as a friend could be quite useful.

  *

  Kanata was uneasy. His fingers opened and closed around the back of the chair. Guild Master Mukini was standing before him, presenting the merchants’ concerns for the umpteenth time.

  It was always the same thing. The merchants wanted privileges and lower taxes. He was prepared to negotiate privileges, but not a tax reduction. He needed the money. Guild Master Mukini continued talking. The old man droned on about his complaints in a soporific tone. Kanata grew tired. If only this audience were over already! He could feel his will to refuse starting to waver. Damn! He was certain he didn’t want to agree! What was wrong with him?

  Ioro was standing two steps behind King Kanata observing the hall. Everything appeared as though this were a normal, very boring audience. Nonetheless, his instincts were screaming at him: Danger! What might be endangering his father? Certainly not the old merchant who was babbling at him. But, except for Mukini, only the honor guard, several well-known courtiers and the vizier were present. So, it must be Mukini. He couldn’t make sense of it. The merchant didn’t look as though he could harm a fly. He clearly never exercised and was soft from the many years of sitting in his counting house. Ioro’s hand wandered to his hidden dagger. As his fingers danced around the hilt, he unconsciously drew it out of its sheath a bit. His reaction almost gave him away! The dagger suddenly seemed to be burning in his hand. There must be magic nearby. Mukini was wearing something magical on him that was affecting Kanata. If he intervened in the audience without being able to prove his suspicion, all of the merchants would be mortally offended. He had to find a more inconspicuous way. Desperate, he tried to get the vizier’s attention by turning his head slightly. Thank the Goddess, the man actually noticed. With his eyes, he silently told the vizier, “End the audience, quickly!”

  Mukini had just paused.

  It appeared as though Kanata wanted to respond, but the king remained silent. He looked absent-minded. The pause drew out.

  The vizier finally intervened. “Guild Master Mukini, His Majesty will, of course, graciously consider your concerns. However, first, we must wait for additional information. We would be very grateful if we could continue this discussion in three days.”

  Mukini seemed slightly unsettled but made the best of a bad situation and said his goodbyes, bowing deeply as he left. The further away he got, the cooler the dagger grew. Mukini was, in fact, the source of the magic. Before the next case could be presented, Kanata arose and ended the audience. Ioro followed him with several guards. The men assumed their posts in the corridor while he went into the royal library with his father.

  Kanata looked inquiringly at his son. “Why so many guards?”

  Ioro shrugged his shoulders. “No special reason. Just a feeling. Something was different today.”

  Kanata nodded deliberately. “Something was definitely different. I was just about to agree with Mukini although I didn’t actually want to. It appears the master merchant had something on him that was able to influence me.” He turned around and walked to the window. “Accursed Crystal Chamber!” he said without turning around. “They are conspiring with the merchants. But I wouldn’t have thought they’d dare bring their intrigues to the palace.”

  Ioro considered whether he should tell his father about the dagger but decided not to. Kanata may not be too pleased to learn his eldest was consorting with a sorcerer and carrying around a magical artifact. Besides, it would probably cause problems for Jok.

  That night, Ioro decided to go out with Scoron and get very drunk. Life at court was too complicated. He needed a break.

  At The Red Keg, people only knew him by his alias, Oro and as the soldier, Oro, he ran a tab here. Ioro drank until the world seemed a bit more friendly. He took out the small dagger and looked at it. It looked rather harmless. He drew a line with the tip in the puddle of beer spreading out around his tankard. The beer h
issed quietly. The dagger was nice and warm. Warm enough to warm up his fingers. Ioro giggled gleefully. Scoron, who was a bit more sober, laid his hand on his comrade and superior officer’s shoulder.

  “That’s enough for today,” he said quietly. “Come on, I know of a comfortable bed with a pretty girl for you.”

  Ioro was too woozy to object. A bed and a girl seemed like a good idea. In fact, he thought, he could do with just the bed. He sheathed the dagger and followed Scoron on wobbly feet.

  As the drunken, incognito prince and his officer friend left The Red Keg, the silent guest sitting against the back wall in the shadow of a crossbeam also arose. Tonight had been worth it. It was very interesting that Prince Ioro was carrying a magical artifact with him, very interesting indeed. That explained why the spell he had sold Mukini had failed to work on Kanata. The artifact had been aware of the observer. He was lucky the prince was too drunk to decipher the dagger’s warning.

  *

  Jok had been avoiding going into the adepts’ tower room for the past few moons. On occasion, it couldn’t be avoided because he had to tend to his mirrors. But Kai and Tur’s presence made being there unpleasant. He loathed watching them tease and torture the younger students. Why was Master Go backing this nasty duo, of all people?

  Now that the new candidates had to be trained, he no longer had an option. He had to work together with Kai and Tur in the tower.

  Sis coped very well with the situation. Kai and Tur found a soulmate in him. Whatever unpleasantness he suffered in the tower, he immediately tried out on the Greens. It was a good thing he lacked the focus to create his own soul mirror. Mir became like a block of ice. Jok, however, thought he saw an expression of torment on her face on a few occasions when she thought no one was looking. He also thought of the arena. Despite her strong defenses, Mir barely stood a chance. Her attacks were simply too predictable. Tev openly displayed his disdain for Kai and Tur. The feeling was mutual. The two adepts tried as hard as they could to corner him. Thanks to his training and the additional information Jok had shared with his friend, they failed. Tev actually had a chance. Jok thought he was already stronger than Tur and equally as strong as Kai. He just lacked experience. Both Jok and Tev preferred not to think about what might happen if Master Go forced them to face each other.