Not wanting to be impolite, I held out my hand. “Professor Caiden Rycroft, at your service.”
The small man shook my hand. “Magister Auden Veldheim, at yours.”
That surprised me. “You’re a magister?” I said. I spoke so quickly, I didn’t immediately realize that I sounded rude. If Magister Veldheim was offended, he didn’t show it.
“Indeed I am,” he said.
“You’re one of Magister Ross’ men?”
Veldheim’s eyes narrowed a bit. “More of a colleague. We’re both of the same rank, though Amelia is in charge of the Corelight Expedition. Officially, I’m here to serve as an advisor on any exotic or monstrous creatures we might encounter in the depths of Lake Yaserj.”
Sensing a deeper meaning to his words, I pressed him a bit. “And unofficially?”
His thin, pale lips curved into a slight smile. “I think, perhaps, you should gather your things, Professor. By my reckoning, we’ll arrive at our rendezvous point very soon. There are a few people who will be very interested in meeting you, and no doubt a few people you’ll want to meet.”
Magister Ross appeared from her office, her hands clasped behind her back. Commander Talthis wasn’t far behind.
Ross nodded to me and Veldheim, and moved down the metal stairwell toward one of the crewmen.
“Status report,” Ross said.
The crewman glanced up. “All systems are nominal, Magister. We’re currently travelling at fourteen knots, at a depth of one thousand and fourteen feet. Coordinates: five fifty-eight by twenty-three oh nine.”
“How far are we from our rendezvous with the Endeavor?”
“Seven miles, dead ahead.”
Ross tapped the crewman on the shoulder. “Bring us up.”
“Aye, Magister,” the man said. He stood and spoke loudly to the other crewmen on the deck. “Secure ventilation shafts, shut the bulkhead flaps, and extend the drive fins. Prepare to bring her to the surface.”
There followed a flurry of shouting as the crew prepared the Concordance for its ascent. As the ship rose, I felt a bit queasy, so much so that I had to crouch down and hold my stomach to keep from vomiting.
Several minutes passed, and the ship crashed through the top of the water. Sunlight poured through the glass, illuminating the dark bridge. Sea water dripped down from the glass, and when it was clear, I saw a grand wooden sailing ship waiting a few miles ahead of us. It flew an Endran flag—a spiraled sun surrounded by Arclight flames—and I reasoned that it must be the Endeavor.
“Commander Talthis, you have the bridge,” Ross said.
“Aye, Magister,” Talthis said.
Ross moved beside me. “Professor, if you would, please join me in the docking bay. We’ll be taking the Endeavor for the last leg of our trip to the city.”
“Why not take the Concordance?” I asked. Almost immediately, I knew the answer to my own question, but Magister Ross answered anyway.
“This vessel is still quite secret. A prototype, in many respects. The Magisterium and Crissom Industries would like to keep it that way, for the time being.”
Ross was polite in her response, but there was an edge to her voice that made me feel as though she wasn’t used to someone questioning her. I made a note to be less aggressive with my inquiries in the future, as I didn’t want to get on her bad side.
Seeing Endra Edûn in person had always been a dream of mine. I’d heard stories about it, of course. Who hadn’t? A city of eternal summer, where the Magisterium itself was located, and the home of the fabled Arclight.
Despite this, I wasn’t quite sure why Magister Ross wanted me with her. I asked her as much.
“My queen would very much like to meet you,” Ross said. “More than that, your piece of dragon parchment needs to be translated, and there’s only one creature within five hundred miles that could do it. He’s waiting for you in the Magisterium. His name is Antherion, he’s one of the dragonkin.”
“A dragon?” I said, my throat feeling dry. “Can’t you ask him for the translation?”
“He and I don’t exactly see eye to eye. Suffice it to say, I think you’re the best man for the task. We’ll also be dropping Lord Aegyn off as well; he’s an old man, and certainly in no condition for a prolonged expedition.”
“How long do you expect the journey to Vor’aj to take?” I asked.
“Hard to say. We’ll have resources and provisions for two months.”
“Two months in here?” I said, looking around at the cold steel and wood of the ship.
“I expected you to be excited by the opportunity,” Ross said, tilting her glasses down to look at me.
I waved my hands. “Don’t misunderstand. The idea of venturing into Vor’aj, being the first eyes to see it in centuries, is breathtaking.”
“Good, I’m glad you’re excited. We have a long journey ahead of us. You and I are the backbone of this whole venture, so we need to work together, trust each other. Yes?”
I nodded. “Absolutely, I agree.”
“You’re an archeologist. An admirable profession, to be sure. But your work is dedicated to changing how we view the Old World. How we see the Ancients and their lives. How often do archeologists get a chance to change the world we’re living in today? This is your chance, Professor.”
I, along with Magister Ross, Lord Aegyn, and two guards, met at the docking bay, where a small paddleboat waited for us. As we entered, water was pouring through spouts on the hull, filling a shallow reservoir. The paddleboat was then lowered into the water, and an enormous hatch on the hull opened wide. We stepped inside, and the warders rowed us out and toward the Endeavor.
Had it not been for the Concordance, I would’ve thought the Endeavor to be the most impressive ship I’d ever seen. She seemed as tall as a tower, with fourteen huge billowing sails, and forty cannon batteries on her broadside. The lacquered and shined hull glowed in the sunlight, and had a reddish tint to it.
We climbed aboard on a rope ladder, and were greeted by the captain and a younger man who, to my utter surprise, introduced himself as Dennith Crissom, owner of Crissom Industries and the largest foundry in Endra Edûn. He had to be in his early twenties at the latest, but he apparently had the means to fund a large part of the operation.
We exchanged pleasantries, but after introducing himself, he shuffled off to speak with the captain in private. I was slightly off-put by the slightly rude act, but to be honest, I was more curious.
Little time was lost as the ship departed for Endra Edûn. We were still two weeks from the coast, and so I had to settle in for the long haul with Decan and Tiffin. We did the normal things one does on a long trip—made friends with the crew, sang songs, and drank an inordinate amount.
As the weeks passed, the sea turned into an icy coast, and we followed a wide, deep river inland. Near the end of our voyage, I found myself above deck for several hours, leaning against the railing on the starboard side of the ship and staring out at the churning waves.
As the hours rolled on, something was bothering me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was.
I walked over to Magister Ross, who was idly chatting with Lord Aegyn.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Do you have the time?”
Ross checked her pocket watch. “A quarter past eleven.”
“Eleven in the morning?”
Ross raised an eyebrow. “Eleven at night.”
I looked up at the bright sky, so awash with bright hues of blue. In the distance, I saw a thin line of white and green. A sea of lights sat atop it: it was the great, sprawling expanse of Endra Edûn. It was a city made of white marble, and stretched on for miles on the enormous island upon where it sat. In the very center was a tall tower. The top stretched into the sky, while its roots cut through hills, valleys, and buildings below.
Everything in the city was built around this tower, and at the top burned a tremendous light that illuminated everything for a hundred miles. This was the Arclight. So bright
and so powerful that it overwhelmed the cold tundra of the countryside, transforming it into the eternal summer lands the Endrans were famous for. When its glow touched my skin, I felt my bones strengthen, and some of my old scars disappeared like magic. There was a charge in the air that defied explication, a gentle tension that I could feel deep inside my chest.
The Arclight, as I have told you, is one of the primordial magics of the world. Magic that the Old Gods put in place to maintain the natural order of Arkos when they departed centuries ago. The Endrans constructed their city around the base of the Arclight’s tower. According to the stories, the Arclight could heal wounds and diseases. It made the soil more fertile, caused plants to grow rapidly, and extended the lifespan of anyone in its glow. Not only that, it was the source of the magisters’ powers, and the crown jewel of the Endran nation.
Magister Ross noticed my reaction. “I forgot how hard it can hit people who have never seen it. Give it a moment, you’ll get used to it.”
I leaned back a bit. “Wow,” I said, inarticulately. “That’s incredible. So…it’s always daytime?”
Lord Aegyn wasn’t far off, and answered for Magister Ross, his wrinkled face smiling. He tapped his fingers on his cane. “Oh, yes, quite so. There are many people living there now who have never seen a night sky before.”
“It is somewhat darker after the sun sets,” Ross interjected. “But no, it never gets dark in the way you understand it.”
“How do you people get to sleep?” I asked.
“You get used to it,” Magister Ross said.
“I doubt I could,” I said, bewildered.
“Well, you’ll have to learn,” Lord Aegyn said. “Because after the expedition is over, you’ll have an honored place here. Perhaps even a teaching role at the Magisterium, if Imperator Briggs will allow it.”
My eyes widened. “Really?”
Lord Aegyn nodded. “I think it can be arranged. In any case, I don’t think you’ll be welcome back in Celosa.” This comment hit me harder than I expected. Aegyn must’ve seen this, because he quickly backtracked. “I simply mean—”
“No,” I said, waving my hands down. “It’s okay. You’re right, after all.”
Lord Aegyn clapped me on the back. I turned, looking back at the fast-approaching city.
There, in the distance, the Magisterium awaited.
Chapter Fourteen
Queen Lyra Termane
Endra Edûn was everything I’d imagined it to be. Stunningly beautiful, of course, but this belied another fact: the city was a fortress. The entire island where it was located, including the docks, were encircled by walls. To enter the harbor, ships had to pass through huge gatehouses that arched over short canals. Each had a massive portcullis that could be lowered in the event of a siege.
It was a fine defensive feature, but everyone knew Endra Edûn had not been besieged in centuries. The city was a veritable fortress, and the land leading up to it was an icy deathtrap. More to the point: even if an army got close enough, what nation in their right minds would want to take on an army full of magisters?
As the Endeavor was docked and moored, my eyes were fixed on the city around me. It seemed even larger from the inside, and the stone towers stretched into the clouds. Without the magic of the Magisterium, such buildings would’ve been impossible to even the most ambitious architects. This was the only place in the world to see structures like this, outside of those made by the Old Gods themselves.
I would’ve liked time to explore the city, but a horse-drawn carriage was waiting for us the moment we stepped onto land. A real pity.
Magister Ross motioned for Tiffin and Decan to stay on the dock. “Lord Aegyn, the professor, and I will be stopping by the Magisterium on business. Another carriage will be by in a few minutes to take you to a villa uptown.”
Decan looked particularly disgruntled by this. “But I’ve always wanted to see the Magisterium.”
“You’ll get your chance, you have my word on that,” Ross said.
Decan didn’t press the issue, though he did sit and cross his arms in a slightly childish way.
I patted Tiffin on the shoulder. “Keep an eye on him,” I whispered, then climbed inside the carriage and sat beside Lord Aegyn and his assistant.
As we rode to the Magisterium, I was struck by just how… disorganized… the city was. As I’ve said, Endra Edûn was built around the Magisterium tower at its center, where the Arclight was located. I say “tower,” though it reminded me more of an enormous stone and metal tree. At the base, its roots tore through the earth, and traveled out for miles in all directions. Roads were built under them, and bridges were constructed to run over them. Buildings were designed to accommodate the Magisterium, some having been built with several connected walkways for ease of access.
This seemed perfectly normal to the Endrans out and about the city streets, and the streets bustled with people from all walks of life. To my surprise, there were even a great many Helian foreigners mixed in with the population. They were easy to spot with their pale skin, tattooed faces, and bright blonde hair. Most Endrans had at least a slightly olive-colored complexion depending on their ancestry. Ethnic Ciridans (conquered long ago by Sun King Agim) were significantly lighter-skinned.
Let me also say this: I’ve done a lot of travelling in my life. From Celosa Edûn, to the Lower Kingdoms in Caelis Enor. I’ve visited over twenty cities, many of them quite large. I tell you that, so you can understand when I say that I’ve never seen a population so large. There were, quite literally, millions of souls. Citizens packed the market streets, and children played in the roads. More than once, our carriage had to stop to avoid slamming into a pedestrian.
As we neared the Magisterium, going up an incline over one of the “roots,” its full contours and features came into focus. What at first had seemed like a solid frame to the tower was in fact many hundreds of pieces. I noticed slight movement in the tower’s frame, and thought that it was just an optical illusion. However, moments later, the middle section noticeably shifted and several of the panels turned around completely into a totally different configuration. It was as if the tower was rearranging itself from the inside out.
At the very top, the Arclight shone like a second sun, but even this close, it wasn’t overly hot. The light had a steady, warm glow to it that didn’t hurt my eyes, or cause me any discomfort.
“Incredible, isn’t it?” Magister Ross said. She’d been watching me silently for some time, and seemed amused by my reaction.
I nodded, almost at a loss for words. “I’ve never seen a structure built by the Old Gods before. How does it move like that?”
Ross smirked. “We magisters have been studying it for over a thousand years now, and we still don’t know that. In fact, less than forty percent of the Magisterium has been explored. The corridors inside have a habit of shifting and turning at odd times, blocking off sensitive areas. It’s quite maddening.”
“But there must be thousands of people living and working inside?” I said.
Ross nodded. “We’ve found that the lower levels are perfectly habitable. The higher you go, the more unpredictable the layout becomes.”
“There has to be some sort of pattern or logic to it,” I mused.
Ross shrugged easily. “Some new recruits like to play games trying to figure out the realignment pattern. Even I did it twenty years ago. A fruitless endeavor if ever there was one.”
Around the base of the Magisterium were sets of stairs that started in a courtyard, and led to a set of heavy double doors at the base of the tower. Young men and women milled about in front of the doors. Most seemed to be leaving. Some walked, and others were being picked up by horse-drawn carriages. As our own carriage neared the courtyard, I felt something of an electric jolt pass over me.
Magister Ross and Lord Aegyn didn’t seem to notice it, nor did Aegyn’s servant, but upon seeing me jump in my seat, they quickly reassured me that it was simply a “defensive measure.
” Whatever that meant.
The carriage parked, and we entered through the main doors. Entering the Magisterium was akin to stepping into a giant grandfather clock. Steam hissed from the floors, corridors moved and turned, and gears and pistons jutted from the walls and walkways.
The foyer of the Magisterium was more orderly than the corridors around it. There were a few magisters and recruits talking in small groups, readying to go home for the night. As I was guided down one of the western hallways, I could barely contain my awe at where I was. I’d never been this close to functional Old God construction, and found myself quite mesmerized by its ticking and turning.
“There will be time for observation later, Professor,” Ross said, ushering me along. “We’re already late.”
“And one does not keep royalty waiting,” Lord Aegyn said.
We arrived swiftly to our destination. It was a tall, stone door with two Endran warders posted on either side. Seeing Ross and Aegyn, they didn’t hesitate to let us pass. Inside was a small workshop, about the length of an alchemy laboratory back at the Acamedria, but much more disorganized. There were four wooden desks around the sides, each littered with half-finished projects, wrenches, gears, inscribing devices, cogs, open books, and other assorted oddments.
It was unusually hot inside, and it didn’t take me long to spot the furnace and anvil on the far side of the workroom. I glanced around, but didn’t see anyone.
“Your Majesty?” Magister Ross called.
“Lyra? Are you there?” Lord Aegyn called.
Almost immediately, someone exited from one of the alchemical storerooms. She was not at all what I expected a queen to be. Very young, perhaps in her late twenties, and very pretty. She had dirty blonde hair, smooth, flawless skin (though she had long smears of grease going from her forehead to her right cheek), and bright blue eyes.
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