A Manifold of Bindings (The Scrolls of Azbel Book 2)

by John Mangold

  Maluem could not imagine what was causing such a terrible spectacle. However, as she gazed upon it, under the three full moons, she experienced an entirely new feeling of dread. Watching the clouds carouse above the obscured populaces, she became certain this ill omen would lead back to her in some unforeseen way.

  ***

  Maluem’s lips curled back into a snarl of disgust at the foul smoke issuing forth from her campfire. Despite her best efforts, her morning meal was once again a blackened mess. Salvaging what she could, Maluem separated what might be edible from the scorched refuse in the pan. She would have dearly loved to start again, but she could ill afford the waste of provisions it would cost her. The meager remnants would have to suffice for now.

  No more than I deserve, for neglecting such a primary skill, Maluem chastised herself as she choked down a mouthful of gristle. At least it always seemed so simple when Volo…

  Shaking her head, Maluem scowled as she forced the thought from her mind. She had no time to dwell upon such memories or the strength for what inevitably followed. Straightening up once more, she sought a subject to divert her mind to. The dream that had visited her the night before provided an ideal diversion.

  “Master Sator Valde,” Maluem said with a smile.

  How long had it been since she had thought of her first master? It seemed like a story from another person’s life. Like a well-known fable, those memories were so dear to her that they blended seamlessly into her memories of youth. But it was no childhood tale. Her days as Master Valde’s Acolyte were as real as the uncomfortable present she now found herself in. But the world seemed so much brighter then, so much more predictable. Even if those days turned out to be so very few.

  With a sigh, Maluem turned her thoughts to the details of the previous night’s dream. All had transpired as it had in real life, right up to the point where she reached Master Valde’s desk. In fact, she had found the book she sought, buried under a mound of calculation encrusted scrolls. She had even made it back to her podium just as the Metronome had made its final swing. But it had felt like the desperate search her dream portrayed. After the task was completed for the day, it had taken her Master several hours of consoling before she would accept that it was not her fault. Apparently, Master Valde had moved the book the previous night, completing some late-night research to ward off a bought of insomnia. Still, Maluem always felt as though she had failed him horribly.

  “Strange though,” Maluem mused aloud. “I do not remember Master Valde ever calling me Wurncaster…”

  A wave of nausea brought Maluem back to the present. Reflexively she grasped her right hand in agony. Maluem gingerly unbound the cloth covering her wound, examining the cut that she had inflicted upon herself but a few days prior. There was no improvement, its edges beginning to turn a bright red. To make matters worse, despite her best efforts, the wound had stubbornly refused to stop bleeding. She had managed to stem the flow to a slow oozing, but she could do no better than that. She cursed herself once more for not spending more time studying Healing Incantations in her youth.

  With her apatite quickly evaporating in the wake of her stomach’s discomfort, Maluem decided to forgo her meal in favor of an early start on her continuing path east. After cutting some cloth for a fresh bandage, Maluem dressed her wound as best she could, then set about packing up her gear. She offered the remains of her breakfast to ‘Aldis,’ but he seemed no more eager to eat it than she. Perhaps the nag was smarter than she thought.

  Within a few moments, Maluem was on her way, following an overgrown path she had discovered the previous day. The tracks of the passage were slightly unusual, more like two small paths running parallel to each other. They could have been created by Ox drawn carts, but they seemed far too spread apart, with odd markings along their edges. It was also clear they had not been traveled by any heavy traffic in years. From the young growth surrounding the trail, she deduced that this area had once been cleared for timber.

  As she traveled, Maluem came upon yet another strange artifact. Moving along the top of an ancient ridge, she could perceive an unusual outcropping far below, at its base. As she peered down, she could almost make out what appeared to be a twisted, metal frame protruding from the choking vines covering it. As she examined it from afar, she could not help but notice a striking resemblance to the odd ‘carriages’ she had seen in the abandoned city under the Aragina River. Could she be nearing the origins of those strange creations? Or had someone pulled one from the frigid depths to examine it on dry land? Either way, it was far too perilous a climb for her to attempt. Its mysteries would have to go unexplained for now.

  Besides, a far greater dilemma commanded her attention. As she gazed from the seemingly commanding view of the ridge, she scanned the horizon for any abnormality. Maluem hoped to spot some sign of a clearing or the geometric shapes of a settlement that should stand in stark contrast to the ocean of wilderness surrounding it. But her view was foiled by the rise in the land around her. Her lofty perch sat in the near center of a deep valley, with far more impressive mountains surrounding it on all sides. From where she stood, she could identify little more than endless foliage as far as the eye could see.

  Maluem cursed herself once more. When she had chosen to have the ferry set her down in the wilderness, she had hoped to slip into the neighboring country of Enox with as little fanfare as possible. With the spectacle she had created in the destruction of the Leviathan, she could hardly expect to make it through the small populace without every single person demanding her name. In avoiding the settlement altogether, she would achieve the anonymity she sought. However, she did not count on becoming hopelessly lost once she had gotten farther inland. No prepared roads had presented themselves, and with no clear idea of where large towns existed in Enox, it was nearly impossible to know the proper direction. Anonymity was desirable. Death in the wilderness was not.

  As the day wore into evening, her fortunes did not improve much. No clear sign of settlement presented itself to her, and to make matters worse, an ominous storm began brewing overhead. The spectacle she had witnessed the night before appeared to be causing a backlash in the skies above. Clouds swam this way then that in an almost aimless agitation. It was as if the spirit of Azbel was twisting in agony from some unseen wounds. Whatever the cause of the strange weather, the implications for Maluem were obvious. She would have to find shelter soon or end up at the mercy of what was shaping up to be an epic storm.

  Maluem struggled to push as hard as she could, but her strength was quickly flagging. Throughout the day, she had found herself unconsciously rubbing her wounded hand. This might have been the cause or the result of the wound’s mounting pain. However, beyond that, Maluem had noticed herself getting steadily warmer. She thought at first that winter was showing the early signs of breaking. However, the significant amount of snow on the ground argued otherwise. This, coupled with the ice she witnessed forming on her horse’s bridle, confirmed what she did not wish to admit. She was becoming feverish. The wound was far more severe than she had thought.

  3:

  Solace in the Storm

  As night began to fall, Maluem ran into her first piece of luck in days. Pressing through a massive growth of thickets, she met with a solid mass at its center. Following the obstruction around, with Aldis trailing behind, Maluem discovered an opening in the structure that proved to be a forgotten doorway. Peering in, she saw that the roof was intact, despite the countless years of neglect the building had clearly suffered. With the maelstrom about to break loose above her, Maluem lost no time moving herself and Aldis inside. It seemed her mount was more than eager to comply, no doubt sensing the danger of being outside with the rage of nature about to descend.

  The hidden structure was quite remarkable in its construction, unlike anything in all Camilos that Maluem had ever seen. The walls were made from massive bricks that seemed to be cut from textured stone. Yet they were incredibly uniform, almost as though they had bee
n magically duplicated over and over. In a few places, the outer surface had been broken to reveal a hollow interior within the bricks, no doubt to give the walls strength while saving on weight.

  “The Archi-Sorcerers who created this must be quite proud of themselves,” Maluem remarked to Aldis as she ran her unwounded hand across their grouted joints.

  Her mount gave a single dismissive grunt as he examined the floor with disdain. It was covered from wall to wall with grimy, cracked, square tiles alternating in red and white colors. But this was not what caused the horse’s discontent. It was the complete lack of any growth coming through them. Despite the building’s apparent abandonment, no weeds had been able to find their way through its foundation.

  “I know you are hungry, boy,” Maluem consoled him. “But I cannot leave you outside right now. At least not until this storm runs its course. Let me explore this structure a bit further. Perhaps some supplies are hiding deeper within.”

  With a bit of concentration, Maluem cast a glow spell on the walls that formed the room, expending more energy in the casting than she expected. Once it was done, she found she had to rest for a moment, leaning heavily against her horse. The effort seemed to have made her feel very odd, the room spinning slightly as she forced the final incantation. She knew this had to be a result of the growing infection in her hand. The longer it was allowed to fester, the weaker she would become. She needed to find aid soon, or this abandoned hovel might very well mark the end of her quest.

  As the world around her righted itself, Maluem straightened to study her surroundings more carefully. She found that the floor was littered with broken furniture made of both wood and metal. The tables seemed to be covered with an odd, smooth material that appeared to be relatively thin yet extraordinarily resilient. As her strength returned, Maluem pulled several large fragments to the center of the room, piling them up to build a rough stack. Using the striking stones she had taken from the bounty hunters, Maluem set about getting the blaze started. However, she soon found that the tables would not take to the flame. The odd surfacing refused to light, and when it smoldered, it created an awful stench that nearly drove both her and Aldis out into the storm.

  Throwing the charred remains out of the front portal, Maluem instead piled all the chairs she could find. Some had an odd cushioning pinned to their seats, which defied easy removal. Remembering the tables, she elected to cast these aside. However, the legs of the furniture burned quite well, producing a robust flame. Within a short time, the blaze was growing eagerly. It was fortunate that the door was missing, for the chamber seemed to have been built without a chimney. She could not imagine how they had hoped to heat the structure otherwise, but she felt it had to have something to do with the odd metal devices that squatted under the dirt-encrusted windows.

  “Stay here, Aldis. Let me see what waits further in.”

  Her horse looked to her and let out yet another of what was becoming his signature grunt. It was apparent he had never intended to move from his spot unless it was to exit this unnatural cell to where the grass was indeed greener. It was to this that he returned his attention, staring wistfully out of the rectangular opening where rain currently poured in. Hungry, he may be, but foolish he was not.

  Maluem repaid him with a sour glare as she turned to venture across the room. It was apparent that the structure was relatively small, but it held at least one other chamber. The far wall had two doorways. One was an oversized door, mounted on peculiar hinges that allowed the door to swing both outwards and in. To its left was a unique rectangular window that stretched almost the entire length of the wall. As she peered within, she found the next room filled with irregular counters, likewise covered with the strange, smooth top surface.

  In one place, the counters' smooth lines were broken by an arcane metal device that reminded her of a trough, or possibly a metal basin, set flush into the table’s top. The apparatus's purpose seemed apparent, yet there was a hole in the bottom, leading to a metal pipe terminating in the floor. Another device was mounted to the countertop, connected at its base to its own set of tubes. A short spout protruded from its mounting to extend out over the top of the basin. She turned the knobs on either side of the odd device this way and that. However, nothing happened. Whatever magic the object once held was obviously spent long ago.

  Maluem risked casting a simple suction spell upon the open end of the spout. She hoped this device might be some form of water pump, which she had seen in the larger towns of Camilos. At first, it produced only nasty, guttural sounding gurgles. However, in a split pulse, the small metal tube began spewing a foul brown liquid that sprayed out of the basin and across the floor. In a panic, she quickly broke the spell, stopping the flood immediately. Nausea overwhelmed her, but she could not tell if it was from the vulgar fluid's stench or from the strain of casting. The only thing she could be sure of was that she was suddenly delighted to have that strange basin so near at hand.

  When her stomach became less rebellious, Maluem pulled her head back out of the metal trough in the counter to continue her exploration. She found that this room was much smaller than the first, its longest wall dominated by what could best be described as a massive grill. Above it, an enormous spout hung from the ceiling, much like those she had seen in the metal forge. However, this one was blocked off with some odd, fence-like coverings. She could hear the storm’s wrath faintly through them, so she knew this had to be a chimney of some sort. With a little work, she was able to pull the blockages out, revealing a greasy passage behind them, leading up through the roof.

  Examining the grill, she found knobs running across its front surface. As she scrutinized them, she discovered each had runes set into the metal surface above them. With a start, she recognized the text to be that of thermo spells. Their scripting was somewhat foreign and crudely formed to her eye, but it did not take her long to decipher their meaning. Running her finger across them, Maluem softly chanted an activation spell. The runes slowly flickered with an amber glow in response to her words. Turning the nearest knob, she nearly jumped with fright as the surface popped to life with a mystical blue flame. In a pulse, the entire grill was aglow, radiating with tremendous warmth.

  Maluem quickly retraced her steps to retrieve some provisions from her pack. As she entered the main room, she quickly realized how fortunate she had been to return so soon. The storm outside was indeed growing stronger, blowing significant amounts of sleet through the open portal. The heavy winds buffeted the small structure with dull, thudding blows. With each impact, another wave of rain and ice flowed across the floor, eventually dousing her meager fire. Aldis stared at her with a flat, accusing glare as he stood in the center of the slowly flooding room.

  “What are you implying, nag. If you are so smart, you start a fire,” Maluem retorted to his wordless accusation. Yet another snort was his only reply. “Oh, come on! We will be far safer in the backroom anyway!”

  She soon discovered that getting Aldis through the swinging door was more of a challenge than she could have foreseen. However, once both horse and rider were on the other side, they both found the smaller room much more to their liking. Maluem now observed that a large shutter hung from the ceiling could be rolled down to block off the large window separating the two chambers. After sealing this off, the temperature rose so quickly that she was forced to reduce the flame enchantments' magnitude on the grill. With relative ease, she was able to make a humble meal for herself and Aldis. He seemed to enjoy his, being composed mostly of wheatmeal and beans. She, on the other hand, found little appetite for it. It was not the food itself, but a sudden return of nausea as soon as the aroma of the cooking food flowed into her nostrils.

  Maluem soon found the room becoming far too hot for her taste. She turned the flames on the grill as low as she dared. As poorly maintained as this device had been kept, she could not tell if the enchantments might fail entirely. Yet, she still felt far too warm for comfort. As she moved to adjust the knobs o
nce more, she couldn’t help but notice her hand trembling. It was then that she became aware of the mist her breath was making. It was not the room that held too much heat. It was her.

  Adjusting the flames once more, Maluem turned to make a hasty bed. Pulling the dressings off her wound, she examined it as best she could in the dim light. It was festering, of that she was confident, but she knew not how to care for it, other than keeping it clean. Searching the room once more, she spotted a small, red container mounted to the wall above the grill. Opening it, she found an assortment of careworn boxes with odd red markings upon them. Most were empty or molding from the inside out. However, she happened upon a small package with a label that held two legible words.

  For Burns. Well, my wound certainly does burn, Maluem thought.

  “It will have to do.” She muttered as she untwisted its metal cap.

  Opening it, she found the small jar was filled with a slimy, beige cream. When she spread it on the wound, it caused the cut to sting horribly, forcing her to scream out in her anguish. As she worked to unclench her stricken hand, Maluem had to wonder if she had misconstrued the label’s meaning. Rewrapping the wound with some clean cloth she found along with the jar, Maluem curled up on her bedding for the night. She had always read that sleep was the best medicine for any ill. Lacking anything more potent, she could only pray that this would prove to be true for hers.

  ***

  Sleep did not come easily, but when it arrived, it brought only torment. Maluem slipped from a cruel reality into a world of pain and fire. The visions which danced before her mind’s eye showed no order or reason, their fevered movements only confusing her with their maddening patterns. Bizarre, meaningless images flowed before her dreaming eyes with frantic energy, sickening her with their twisting motions. She felt as though she could not right herself, her body trapped in a swirling flow of chaos. She threw her hands over her eyes to shut the spectacle out, but this did little to help her escape the madness within her dream.