The Forge of Light: The White Mage Saga #5 (The Chronicles of Lumineia)

by Ben Hale

  "For I know not its location," Tess quoted. "We don't even know what the last talisman is, let alone where to look."

  "We will."

  "How can you be so calm?" Tess demanded.

  Siarra released a long breath. "On the eve of battle you prepare your mind. Willpower and fortitude are the elements that carry an oracle to victory."

  Tess sank into a seat across from her. "How many battles have you been in?"

  "I couldn't begin to guess," Siarra replied, "but many."

  "How did you survive them all?"

  "I didn't have it in me to go down," Siarra replied. Her eyes now saw memories. "No matter the odds or the enemy, I would not yield." Her gaze shifted back to Tess. "I see the same trait in you."

  Tess fell silent and looked away. Derek had said much the same thing, and Tess had written it off as stubbornness. What if he had been right? Then an idea struck her that she hadn't considered. She had become strong because she had fought. Lost in the implications of that idea, she remained quiet until Siarra cleared her throat.

  "The wonders of your time are difficult to describe," she said, and gestured to the train.

  Tess met her gaze and felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. "It doesn't seem to matter, does it? If we lose, all of this goes away."

  Siarra released a long breath. "When I first flew it scared many. They were afraid it meant more danger to them. As others learned to harness their skill it proved to be the greatest boon since the Dawn of Magic. They began enchanting ships to travel faster, enhancing communication and social structures, and ushering in an era of peace that culminated in Atlantis."

  "How do you know all of this?" Tess asked. She rubbed her neck, irritated at the exhaustion that was threatening to overpower her. How much had she slept in the last two days?

  "I may have lost my farsight as a guardian, but my magesight was enhanced. It was akin to an endless dream, and I saw time unroll like a scroll. I witnessed wars and calamities—but also eras of peace and unity. Alice may be threatening every freedom you hold dear, but she is also forcing the people of Earth to value it."

  Tess wanted to argue, but instead stifled a yawn. "So you just stayed as a statue the whole time?"

  Siarra's expression darkened. "Not always," she admitted. Raising a hand to forestall Tess's question, she said, "You should sleep. From what you said, it will take two hours to arrive in your Canada."

  "I should practice my farsight," Tess argued. "While I can."

  "Fatigue breeds accidents," Siarra said. "Now rest."

  Tess shook her head. "I can't sleep right now. Millions are dying. There is no time."

  Siarra smiled. "Sometimes you have to make time to rest," she said, and then gently tapped Tess on the forehead.

  "What was that . . ." Tess's voice faded with her consciousness as the sleeping spell took effect.

  "Sorry Tess," Siarra said as Tess' vision went dark. "We will need to arrive fresh . . ."

  ***

  Siarra recalled the time Draeken's servant had used the same spell on her and felt a touch of guilt. Reminding herself of what was at stake, she rose to her feet. Then she Gated out of the train and appeared in California. With just two miles separating her from the coastline, she could hear auren artillery fire echoing through the forest. Rising in the distance, the wall of Dark remained visible. Turning away from the battle, she wound her way through the gigantic sequoia redwood trees.

  Thousands of years had passed since she last visited them, and they had grown much. Now they towered hundreds of feet in height, and their trunks had swelled to gigantic proportions. Striding through them, she sought the father of them all, the patriarch.

  Spotting it near the center of the grove, she stepped into the air and glided to it. She reached out and felt the bark, and then sent a spark of magic into the wood. The great tree rustled as if a wind had tugged its branches.

  Patriarch, she thought to it. I am in need of your aid.

  I know your voice, the tree's voice rumbled in her thoughts. Long has it been since I heard you speak, not since I was a mere sapling, and my mother yet lived. How can I help an oracle as ancient as I?

  Siarra heard the smile in the tree’s voice and returned the gesture. I need to find a place of secrecy, where a dark magic has been cast.

  The tree fell silent, and after a moment its branches rustled again. The little ones tell tales of a shadow growing beneath their roots. It does not harm, but it has frightened them. Take their memory and find this creature in what man calls South America. Water falls into the Devil's throat from the falls of Iguazu, and you will find your dark magic there.

  Le Runtáriel would be proud.

  Mothers are required to feel so.

  Siarra grinned at the truth to his words. Then she turned when a larger blast rumbled from the beach. Turning back, she touched the tree again.

  Battle looms at your roots, Patriarch. You must aid the race of man if you are to survive.

  My time comes to a close, the tree rumbled, and the saplings of the mother have been hewn down across many lands. Man deserves its fate.

  The hint of anger kept Siarra from pressing the point. Sleep well, Patriarch. I hope you live.

  As I hope for you.

  The tree fell silent, and Siarra glided away. Holding the thought of her destination in her mind, she Gated to South America and exited mere feet from the Dark. She flinched away—and then realized it was on both sides.

  The huge walls of Dark were closing on each other, with her in the middle. She dove to the ground and sped north, seeking to evade the closing Dark. Behind her the two walls reached each other and sealed. Then the bats appeared.

  The swarm burst from the Dark a hundred feet to her side and struck her. Teeth and claws ripped into her skin, eliciting a cry of pain. On instinct she cast an expanding fireball. The heat blasted outward in a growing sphere, redirecting the swarm and giving her space. The opening allowed her to see the ground below.

  Pristine waterfalls cascaded in a multi-tiered network that emptied into a river. Cool mist rose from the impact, partially obscuring the water and wetting the surrounding vegetation. As the Dark closed on the area, Siarra dove toward the water. The bats followed her down, shrieking at her escape.

  As she neared she shifted to her magesight. Deep below the falls she spotted her goal, a cavern protected by many layers of earth and water. The Dark drew close on both flanks, spurring her to greater speed. Evading the bats, she struck the pond below the waterfall and went under. At the last moment the bats veered away, and then the Dark closed off the light above.

  Inwardly Siarra sighed in relief, and descended below the water. The current pulled her away from the waterfall, but she manipulated it to push her upstream. At the very base of the waterfall, she found a crevasse and dived into it. A hundred feet down it turned to air, and she fell into an enormous cavern.

  She banked away before striking the floor. Then she retreated into the shadows and watched the figure in the center of the space. She held her breath and waited, but it did not turn toward her. As much as she wanted to destroy it, she lacked the time or preparation to do so now.

  Standing in the center of the dim cavern, the Immortalian was in the form of a woman. Tethers of energy extended out from its body to connect with the twelve magical sources that were embedded in the walls of the cavern. Each rope siphoned the magic from a source and turned almost white as it melded with the others.

  Much of the magical flesh was fully formed. In another few years the Immortalian would be complete. Then its power would rival that of an oracle, and the tissues would defy even time. As if it sensed Siarra's presence, the Immortalian whirled to her. Before she was spotted, Siarra Gated back to the train.

  She winced as she sat down, and realized that several of the wounds were deep. Since she was a guardian she could only heal by reverting to the source. She could only hope her wounds would knit before Tess awoke. Shifting back to stone, Siarra rested.


  Chapter 19: Vault of the Thief

  Tess woke as the train began to slow. Anger flared within her, and she sat up to find Siarra in statue form. Tess felt somewhat pacified knowing that Siarra had rested as well. She reached out to tap her on the arm, but hesitated. Instead she reached to her magic and sought her friends. She knew Iris was safe, so she connected to Derek.

  His attention was focused elsewhere, so she pulled back. She had no desire to distract him and get him killed. One by one she reached for her friends. James was the first she could not find, and her throat tightened as she realized why. He and Marcus had led a team to Oregon, and Tess couldn't reach either one of them, or their team.

  She pushed on to the others in the Order and counted the casualties. Mercifully there were few, but she felt a stabbing ache for each one. These were her friends, the students she had gone to class with and studied with. And she had failed to protect them.

  James and Marcus died protecting a hospital, Iris interrupted her thoughts.

  Tracking my threads? Tess asked. She couldn't bring herself to be mad.

  I track everything, Iris replied softly. They held out until the reserves showed up. You should be proud.

  How can we do this, Iris? Our friends are dying.

  Everyone's friends are dying. What matters is that we haven't given up.

  Then the train came to a whispering stop. Tess's jaw tightened as she said, Keep my dad safe, Iris.

  Why do you think I accepted the assignment?

  Tess grinned and disconnected the link. Then she tapped the statue's arm, and Siarra thawed into flesh.

  "You didn't have to knock me out," Tess said.

  Siarra peaked an eyebrow. "Are you certain?"

  Tess didn't respond, and a moment later they slid to a stop inside a smaller station than the one they had left. They stepped to the elevator and rode it into the city. The doors opened to reveal an actual train station in Calgary. A passenger train sat vacant on the tracks, while the terminal itself lay strewn with trash. They hurried outside to find a matching scene in downtown.

  Streets were littered with abandoned cars while streetlights continued to operate. Office buildings and skyscrapers reached into the sky, but not one person walked in or out. A pack of dogs started at their passing. They barked and snarled before returning to their meal in the garbage.

  "At least they got everyone out," Tess said as they flew west. She hated how her voice echoed off the glass of the skyscrapers.

  Siarra seemed equally impacted by the view, and said, "In my time I witnessed entire races depart their homeland. They may have survived, but their homes did not. They returned to find every evidence of their history erased."

  Tess gazed down on the silent city, and tried to imagine what would remain if Alice won. Would the Twisted destroy the city? Would they rip through concrete and glass and leave only rubble? Her heart tightened, and she turned away from the image.

  "It should be somewhere in those mountains," Tess said, and pointed to the peaks rising to the west.

  "How long until the cloud reaches it?"

  "Hang on," Tess said, and turned her thoughts to Iris. A moment later her response came.

  You have an hour until the Dark reaches the peaks. Then it will descend into the valley and you will be trapped.

  And we can't Gate out, Tess thought.

  So get the talisman and get back, Iris responded. You don't have much time.

  "We have an hour," Tess said to Siarra. "What are we looking for?"

  "White magic," Siarra said, and flashed a tight smile. "At one time I gave him a gift, a ring crafted from solid white. He said it would never leave his side. I didn't tell him I could use it to track him."

  Tess returned the smile. "Let's get to work."

  They put the city behind them and flew above an empty prairie. Bound by barbed wire fences, it contained a small herd of cattle. A cow raised its head to look at them, and she felt a pang of guilt. Before it finished its meal the animal would be dead. A few minutes later they reached a forest at the foot of a sprawling mountain range.

  "You want to split up?" Tess asked.

  Siarra shook her head. "Plan to go south and look with your farsight. If you don't find it, change your intention."

  Tess nodded and came to a halt above the trees. Then she closed her eyes and looked ahead. Her vision faded to gray, and she witnessed herself and Siarra turn south. They scanned with increasing worry but found nothing. Frowning, Tess made the decision to search north first, and her vision instantly changed. Now she saw them alight on a ledge after twenty minutes.

  "North," she said with certainty.

  "Well done," Siarra said, and they launched themselves into motion.

  Deep in her magesight, Tess searched for a spark of white that would indicate their goal. She soared above a thick forest, passing a herd of deer and a lumbering bear. She did not pause, and rocketed past rolling foothills, rivers, and endless tracts of pine. Many times she glanced to the peaks on her left. If the Dark touched them, their chances of success would plummet. After twenty minutes Siarra called out to her.

  "There!"

  Tess turned to follow her, and together they dropped toward a cliff. On a forbidding wall of granite a small shelf extended out into a ledge, and they landed on it together. The moment her feet touched the rock she recognized the distinct arch above the wall in front of her. There was only one problem.

  "Where's the door?" Tess said. She was unable to keep the strain from her voice.

  "We have to find a way in," Siarra said, and her tone carried the same tension. She stepped forward and ran her hand over the surface. She snatched her hand back as a face pressed out of the rock.

  "Took you long enough to find me," it said, and then smiled. "I missed you."

  Siarra smiled in turn. "Hello, Jackal. We need to find something he stole." Her eyes flicked to Tess. "It's an echoin, an entity imbued with his memory."

  "How is it still alive?" Tess asked.

  "Their purpose is to endure after one's death. Jack asked for one to guard his vault."

  Tess raised an eyebrow. "You enchanted it."

  She flashed a smile. "I think you would call it . . . an anniversary gift."

  "He called it a memorable fortnight," the face said. Its laugh sounded like gravel rubbing together. "But what do you seek? He stole a great many things, you know."

  "May we enter?" Siarra asked.

  "That depends," Jackal replied, its voice cagey. "How long will you stay?"

  "We don't have time for this," Tess said.

  "I know," Siarra murmured, "but it might be able to help."

  Tess looked up at the top of the mountains. How long until it was too late? It felt like the minutes were slipping by faster than she could keep track. Siarra turned back to the face, which appeared amused at the interchange.

  "We need a talisman beyond the norm," Siarra said, "I suspect it will be unique."

  Dust settled off the face as it frowned. "You don't know what you seek? That will make this difficult. I suggest you look on the upper levels. That is where he kept the best items."

  It winked and pulled back into the rock. Then there was a grinding of stone as it swung open. They walked into the darkness, and it offered a chuckle and a final warning.

  "Watch out for the traps. This is his vault after all."

  "I would expect nothing less," Siarra replied, and cast a ball of light that illuminated the hall.

  As they walked down the corridor Tess leaned close to her. "Was he like that?"

  "Always," Siarra replied. "He bled confidence and arrogance, and yet his love for me ran deep. He never ceased to surprise . . . or amaze me."

  "But he was a thief."

  Siarra looked at her. "No, he was the thief. No relic, artifact, or talisman was outside his ability to take."

  "Wasn't it odd for one of your status to be with him?"

  Irritation flashed across Siarra’s features. "I didn't let
my people tell me who I could be with."

  They reached the end of the corridor, and the ambient light flickered to life. As it brightened Tess sucked in her breath. Floor by floor the light continued to rise, illuminating a massive cylindrical cavern of thirteen tiers. Hundreds of alcoves lined the exterior of each level. A thick pillar dominated the middle, allowing for a single display of prominence per floor.

  Light charms activated, illuminating the enormous collection. Swords, daggers, and armor stood on display next to weapons she could not describe. Jewel encrusted chalices, rings, and crowns sat beside shimmering cloaks and bowls of strange food.

  The second tier contained a model ship, its detail indicating it represented an actual vessel. Statues dotted the various levels, and their faces turned to see Tess and Siarra. One leaned over to whisper to its companion, and the stone woman issued a quiet giggle. Several alcoves over, what appeared to be medieval undergarments were on display.

  "There are so many," Tess breathed.

  "This is much like my personal Library," Siarra said, and a smile spread across her face. "Although my records came by more reputable means."

  "How can we possibly find the right item?" Tess asked.

  "We don't have to worry about the illusory relics," Siarra said and motioned to a bladed, circular weapon on the right. It glowed with purple light.

  Tess peered at it and realized she was right. "They aren't all real?"

  She shook her head. "The challenge is what mattered to him, not the hoard. Much of what he stole he did so by contract. He stored them here until he could get paid. He used the illusions to remember them."

  Rising off the ground, Tess flew to the highest level. Siarra joined her, and they alighted on the pinnacle in the center, where a white ring held the place of highest prominence in the vault. Siarra smiled at its placement and reached out to touch it.

  "I gave this to him after he escaped from a dwarven dungeon," Siarra said. "They didn't take kindly to him stealing the crown, and he was just hours from execution. They didn't realize that his capture was part of his plan. In the end the dwarves had to craft a new crown, and a new dungeon."