The Acolyte: Magicians of the Beyond

by Victoria Murata

  She and Star walked up to where he stood. “Master Stefan? I’m Danica.”

  “Yes, yes, I know exactly who you are. Come in,” and he waved his arm in an exaggerated arc welcoming her into his home.

  She slid off Star and removed the headstall and saddle, leaning them against a tree. “Stay close, Star,” she murmured, and patted her neck. The horse immediately began to graze on the lush grass.

  When she turned toward the cottage, Master Stefan was no longer in the doorway, so she walked up to the open door and peered inside. She could barely make anything out in the gloom. The two vine-covered windows afforded little light.

  “Master Stefan?”

  There was no answer from within, so Danica crossed the threshold, her eyes adjusting to the gloom. She was in a living room, of sorts. There was a large desk in the middle of the room that was covered with papers that contained what looked like diagrams of plants and garden plans. Containers of various sizes, books, and a box of playing cards sat atop the papers. Against one wall was a small fireplace with a fire mostly gone to embers, and there were two overstuffed chairs facing it. The other walls were covered with shelves filled with books, pieces of different kinds of equipment, parts from scientific instruments, bones of what … she wasn’t sure, the inside workings of clocks, an assortment of rocks and minerals, and a large cage with a glossy black bird inside. She walked closer to the bird and it opened its yellow beak and said, “RAAARK!”

  She heard a chuckle from behind and then a husky voice said, “That’s Bart. He’s a mynah bird.”

  Danica turned around to find Master Stefan carrying a tray with two cups and a steaming pot of tea from another room that she assumed was a kitchen. He moved gracefully through the clutter and balanced the tray on the desk on top of papers and books.

  “Bart often says random words and phrases, and I find he’s quite intuitive. Come. Sit.”

  Danica found a folding chair next to the desk and sat down carefully. Master Stefan sat in the cushioned rolling desk chair and poured the tea. Cinnamon and cloves wafted on tendrils of steam. He passed a cup to her and then poured one for himself.

  “Now then. Tell me about yourself.” His pale gray eyes scrutinized her beneath the bushiest eyebrows Danica had ever seen.

  “Um. I’m Danica …”

  “You already said that. Do you think I’m deaf?”

  Danica startled. “Oh! No! I’m sure your hearing is fine. Um, I live in the hotel and I…”

  “I know where you live. Do you take me for a fool?”

  “FOOL!” Bart called from his cage.

  Danica colored. She looked at the bird, then at Master Stefan. “Of course not.” She took a sip of her tea to hide her nervousness. Then she said, “Why don’t you tell me what you want to know.”

  He regarded her soberly. “I want to know who you are.” His gray eyes were intense. “Tell me what’s going on up here,” and he tapped his head, “and in here,” and he pointed to his heart.

  Danica took a deep breath. It was clear she wasn’t going to get away with chit-chat. Then in a rush she said, “I’m going on a mission soon. To Lymonia. That’s where I was born seventeen years ago. And I’m scared.”

  “SCARED!” Bart croaked and then laughed. “HA HA HA.”

  She looked at the bird uneasily. Admitting her fear was a surprise to her.

  Master Stefan smiled and leaned back in his chair. “Now that’s more like it. Tell me why you’re afraid.”

  Danica rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Oh, no reason, really, except that it’s in a mythical world, reached through a portal of some kind in a creepy cellar. And once I get there my life will be in constant danger because a birthless, deathless, mercenary wizard named Dumone will do everything in his power to find me. And Count Gurdyn and his wicked son want me dead ten times over. Got it?” Her eyes flashed blue lights.

  Master Stefan cocked his head, and his eyebrows flew up. Then he broke into gales of laughter. Danica was speechless watching him nearly fall from his chair.

  “Oh my,” he said, dragging a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his eyes. “I haven’t laughed like that in a long time. Phil didn’t tell me you have so much spirit. Dumone better watch out!” and he began laughing all over again, and to her surprise, Danica joined him. Soon his mirth subsided. He blew his nose into the handkerchief.

  “Okay, we have some work to do, my dear,” and he busied himself moving the tea tray off the table, along with the books and papers underneath. When the table was clear, he emptied the box of playing cards, shuffled them, and spread them in a fan on the tabletop and asked her to choose five.

  “Don’t look, and put them face down in front of you.”

  What? Now we’re playing cards?

  She decided not to question Master Stefan, so she did as she was told. Then he chose five cards randomly and put them face down on the table, placing the remainder of the deck to the side.

  “We’ll take turns asking questions about your mission. Hopefully, the cards will give us answers. I’ll go first.” He paused, then asked, “Who should go with this girl to Lymonia?” He held up his hand as she began to speak. Then to her amazement, two of his cards glowed faintly and he turned them over. The knave of diamonds turned into an image of Jimmu. Danica gasped. Then the eight of hearts became an image of Emma. She nearly jumped out of her chair as the images in the cards began to move. Emma was sweeping out a fireplace and humming softly to herself. Jimmu was in the library looking through a newspaper. Danica smiled at his familiar scowl.

  “How do you do that? How does it work?”

  “I don’t know. It just works. Now you can ask a question. Anything that’s on your mind about your mission,” Master Stefan said.

  Danica thought for a moment, then asked, “Why is Count Gurdyn afraid of me?” She turned over a glowing card in front of her and the king of spades morphed into an image of Gurdyn. He was looking into a large globe. She soon realized he was seeing her during a fencing match. She wore a chest protector and an epee mask. She was slowly and deliberately forcing her opponent back. Then she touched her opponent with her point, and she won the match. Onlookers clapped and cheered. Slowly the image faded.

  “Okay, I know he’s afraid of my power. I just don’t know what he is protecting.”

  “Think of how to frame your questions so you get the answers you are seeking,” Master Stefan counseled. “My turn.” He stared at his cards pensively. Then finally he asked, “What does this girl need to understand about Gurdyn and his son Rone?”

  He turned over the glowing two of clubs card. Slowly it changed to a horrific scene. Count Gurdyn and Rone stood on a balcony overlooking a courtyard where a gallows with many nooses had been erected. A group of six men and women and a child stood huddled together on the grass in front of the gallows, their hands bound behind their backs with rope. A man in armor waited for a signal from Gurdyn, and when he got it, he herded the group up the steps of the gallows. Each of them stood in front of a noose which was then placed around his or her neck. The child, no more than six years old, cried piteously. A group of people watched, horrified. One man yelled, “How can a little girl be a criminal?”

  Rone leaned over the balcony and shouted to the guards, “Arrest him!” The man was seized and dragged away. A young woman clutched at him and a guard struck her face with his gauntlet.

  Then Gurdyn spoke.

  “These people are traitors to the realm, and they will be executed. My men will find all who are guilty of treason. All will be punished. Anyone who speaks against the realm will find swift justice. Thirty-four people have died on these gallows. Seven have lost their heads, and twelve witches have been burned. All who are not faithful subjects will be found out!”

  One of the men on the gallows shouted, “Long live the High Priestess!” He looked at Gurdyn. “You haven’t found her—and you won’t! She will save us from you and your evil son!”

  The Count glowered at the man and gave
a signal to the hangman who released a lever. The floor dropped out from under the group with the nooses around their necks. The onlookers groaned and many looked away. Danica watched in horror as the bodies writhed and twitched and then, finally, were still. Slowly the image faded, and Master Stefan regarded her calmly.

  “For over seventeen years Count Gurdyn and his son Rone and their council have terrorized Lymonia. Anyone who commits the crime of treason such as speaking ill of him, or is even suspected of speaking ill of him, is arrested, and thrown into the dungeon. Chaos rules and many people have been reduced to their basest natures. They betray each other over the smallest slights, and they lie to get their most recent enemy arrested. If this newly arrested person supports Gurdyn, he is freed. If not, he rots in the dungeons on trumped up charges until he goes to trial and is found guilty.”

  “But that’s terrible!” said Danica.

  “TERROR!” said Bart.

  “The twelve witches who were burned were priestesses. Your mother would have burned also if they had found her alive. And you . . .”

  “I would have been killed.”

  Master Stefan nodded solemnly. “It’s your turn.”

  She thought for a moment and took a deep breath. “Where will I find the map to the hidden temple?”

  She turned over the glowing three of diamonds that slowly changed to an image of a narrow dirt two-track leading into a forest. A sign read, ‘Wolf Wood’. The two-track wandered through the trees for a good while and then came to a huge lightning-struck tree where it continued, and a barely visible path veered off to the left through the woods. Soon the trees opened into a glen and within this glen was a grassy mound. As they watched, the grass melted away revealing a pile of stones. Danica gasped, recognizing the glen from her dreams and from the movie Phil had shown her of her birth.

  A burial mound. That’s where Astrid is buried. I’m going to have to find her body.

  The image faded and Master Stefan looked at her closely. “It’s not going to be easy, Danica.” Then he looked at his remaining cards and asked, “Where can this girl find safety in Lymonia when she is in danger?” He turned over the five of clubs and it soon revealed the image of a large abbey. A wooden door opened, and an elderly priest walked out, closing the door behind him.

  Danica studied the image closely. She would be sure to find the location of this abbey as soon as she got to Crown City, Lymonia’s capital.

  “Your turn. Three cards left.”

  Danica looked at the cards remaining. “Who can I trust in Lymonia?”

  Master Stefan narrowed his eyes and nodded his head.

  Danica turned over a glowing card. The seven of diamonds turned to an image of a mature man dressed in threadbare clothing. He was hammering a piece of metal next to a glowing forge. His muscled skin glowed with sweat, and dark hair hung over his forehead. Another card was glowing softly, and Danica turned over the queen of hearts. It slowly turned to the image of a young girl, maybe ten or twelve years old. Her almost white hair was braided into a thick coil that reached past her waist. It was her face that struck Danica. Wide-eyed innocence looked out of light amethyst eyes. She smiled at the small cat she was playing with and Danica’s heart melted.

  “How can such a small girl help me?” she wondered aloud.

  “HELP! HELP!” the bird cried.

  “Help may come in all kinds of guises. Don’t discount anyone,” said Master Stefan. The image faded and they looked at the cards that were left. “We each have one card. Let’s make our questions count. It’s my turn.”

  He looked at her long and hard. “What is this girl’s greatest obstacle to her success in this mission?”

  They looked at the card he turned over. The ten of spades. Soon it changed to the vision of Danica running hard down a forest path. Her eyes were wide with panic and her breath came in short gasps. Sweat poured down her face and she swiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her tunic. A twisted root sticking up out of the dirt caught her foot and she fell. She twisted her body around and her face was a mask of horror. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, and semi-transparent black images flew out, twisted, paper thin devils with tails and bat-like wings. They disintegrated into the air like small motes of burned ash.

  Danica watched, aghast, as the image vanished. Her eyes met Master Stefan’s and they held for a long moment.

  “Your own demons, Danica. That’s your greatest obstacle.”

  She nodded, understanding the implications of the card.

  “Your turn. You have one more question. Make it a good one,” he said.

  Danica looked at her last card. She began to speak and then changed her mind. Finally, she said, “How can I be of the greatest help to the people of Lymonia?”

  The ace of hearts glowed, and she turned it over. An image of a savannah slowly came into focus. A lioness was hidden in tall grass watching a group of hyenas circling nervously around a small antelope, alive and alert. Each time one of the hyenas made an advance towards it, another hyena would attack the one advancing, afraid it would get the prey and not share the kill. This happened again and again, and so none of the hyenas could kill the antelope. The tension was palpable as the hyenas could neither trust the others, nor kill the antelope.

  Suddenly the lioness launched herself into the group of hyenas, swiftly breaking the first one’s neck. When another jumped on her back screaming, she deftly threw it off and tore out its throat. Then she attacked a third, tearing open its belly while a fourth, afraid for its life, began to slink away. She gave it no mercy, pouncing on it and sinking her teeth into its heart. The others ran swiftly away, and the lioness turned toward the antelope and sat quietly on its haunches, blood dripping from its mouth. After a moment, the antelope turned and leaped into the grass, speeding away. The image clouded and then disappeared.

  Master Stefan sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest, watching her. Danica was quiet, reflecting on all she had seen. She picked up her teacup and sipped the now cold tea.

  “May I ask one more question?”

  “No. You are granted five cards only. The cards have been generous. Sometimes they don’t change at all. Sometimes only a few will answer.”

  “And you don’t know how it works?”

  “I only know that it works sometimes. And only for me.”

  “It’s your Magic, isn’t it?” Danica was quiet for a moment. “Why aren’t you a Covert?”

  He chuckled then. “I’m too old to go gallivanting across worlds on secret missions. That’s for young people. When Phil brought me here it was on the condition that I could live alone, away from everyone. It’s just me and Bart. I don’t want the finer life. I have my garden and I do what I can to help Phil when she asks—which isn’t often by the way. You must be special to her.” He regarded Danica curiously.

  “But you have powers.”

  “Yes. So what? Everyone here has powers.”

  “You are an exception—you and Liam. Liam is younger and you are older than most of the others in the Beyond.”

  “There are a few exceptions. It’s easier for young people to accept The Magic. Your minds are more open. Old folks like me are set in our ways. We don’t like to change.”

  “BEWARE!” Bart croaked.

  Master Stefan looked at the bird and then at Danica. “That’s good advice, Bart. Be aware, Danica, while you are in Lymonia. Act as though nothing is as it seems. You’ll need your wits about you at all times.” He scooped up the cards and replaced them in the box.

  She nodded solemnly.

  “Let your fear work for you. It can be a good thing if it’s not paralyzing. Now come with me. I’ll show you my garden.”

  Danica followed Master Stefan into the room he had come from earlier bearing the tea tray. It was a kitchen with an old-fashioned cook stove, a sink with a water pump, some shelves on the walls for a few dishes, pots, pans, and utensils. A large window in the middle of one wall framed a tiered shelf with what looked
like an herb garden. It was a small room and there wasn’t a table or chairs, just a short counter next to the sink. Surprisingly, it wasn’t cluttered like the living room. Everything looked neat and tidy.

  They walked out a back door and into a large garden. Danica gasped at the beauty before her. A riot of color assailed her, and the flowers, shrubs, trellises, and benches were artfully arranged, appealing to a sense of order while at the same time giving an impression of abundant abandon. A wrought-iron table and chairs sat below a large shade tree not far from the back door where they stood.

  Following her gaze Master Stefan said, “That’s where I take most of my meals. It’s quiet. Peaceful.”

  “It’s beautiful! Have you planted all of this?” she said, indicating the whole of the extended garden spread out before them.

  “Yes, all but the large trees. I enjoy gardening. That was one of the draws to moving here with Phil. I can garden all I want—the weather is beautiful; it rains every night and everything I plant grows.”

  He grabbed a basket by the back door, and they walked up to rows of various vegetables growing profusely.

  “What do you do with all this? You can’t possibly eat it all.”

  “Most of it goes to the hotel kitchen. Every vegetable you eat comes from here.” He looked pleased as he surveyed his garden. Danica followed him down a row of root vegetables.

  “You said gardening was one of the draws of the Beyond. What else drew you here?”

  “Not having to worry about making a living in my old age. I was never successful at holding any kind of job. People said I was hard to get along with.” He chuckled. “And they were right! I don’t care for most people.” He stopped in mid-row and bent to pull a few weeds.

  “How did you support yourself?”

  He stood up. “In my younger days I was an assassin. One of the best. Now I’m a gardener and I’m pretty good at it, too.”