I led her onto the Night Wisp and asked everyone to meet us in the common room. Shira didn’t want to come, claiming she was busy. Instead of arguing with her, I turned on the comm. system so that she could listen in. When everyone had settled in, I said, “Raquel, the last time we saw you, you said you had to turn yourself in.”
“Yes, and I did so; but that’s not why I’m here,” she replied.
“I think we need some answers first,” interjected Felix. “For a while, you were trying to break up this team and turn us against Narcion. You warned us of great doom if we stayed on course, but then helped us complete his task. Now you’re back, after supposedly turning yourself in to the authorities?”
She sighed. “Yes, all of that is true. It’s complicated. Narcion and I are from a different era, one that has been long forgotten.”
“I think you’d better start at the beginning,” said Felix.
“Very well,” she said. “When the wizards of old were conspiring to tear the weave and put an end to the current great war of magic, Narcion designed the tables as an escape plan.”
“That table we destroyed was Narcion’s?” I exclaimed.
“Yes,” she confirmed.
“But that would make him a sorcerer!” said Crivreen.
“Please let the lady speak,” said Ragnar.
“I need to go back a little farther. When I first met him, Narcion was a minor wizard who did his best to stay out of the wars. He was never a gentle person, but his dark side was well under control at that time. He often took people in randomly and helped them get started in life. That was the way he was,” said Raquel.
I smiled at her comment, as that was just how this team had been formed. Narcion might have been the most ruthless and merciless warrior I had ever heard of, but he poured himself into this team and made us what we were today.
“The wars found him; they found everyone eventually. It was a very dark time. The wars forced him to fight, and all the death and destruction he had to take part in changed him into the cold and calculating man you knew. He turned to necromancy in order to gain the power he needed, but the evil art twisted his soul and turned him darker.”
Raquel had to pause there, choked up with emotion. I started to say something but Ragnar stopped me. She had previously confided that he had turned to necromancy to obtain vengeance for someone close to him, but this remark about the war was new. I wondered if that person close to him had been Raquel herself.
After a moment she continued. “The master sorcerers devised a plan to use Narcion’s tables to come back after all the wizards were gone and the weave had been healed.”
“By the gods! That would have put them in control before anyone could stop them,” said Ragnar.
The incident she was referring to had happened ten thousand years previously. At that time, the wizards thought they could stop the sorcerers by rending reality itself. They had hoped it would remove from the sorcerers the ability to do magic by denying them access to the weave, but it did much more: it prevented everyone from working magic until recently.
“Yes, a new age of evil would have risen,” she said. “Narcion knew that once the wizards tore the weave, we would all die. I tried to warn them, but they didn’t believe me and said I had been duped by my husband. I have often wondered what they might have thought, what excuses they might have come up with, if they hadn’t been consumed in the casting. They never had time to realize that their mistake would wipe out the magi, good and bad alike, for eons.
“So, before the wizards could tear the weave, Narcion and I fled to another realm where we pretended to be mundanes. He brooded about creating the tools that would turn this realm into a living, waking nightmare, and over time the guilt drove him mad. The only saving grace he could come up with was that we had survived and might be able to find a way to return to this realm before the sorcerers could, to destroy the tables. In order to do that, Narcion devised a timeless state for us to sleep in, tied to this realm’s weave. The plan was that we would wake once the weave had healed enough for us to operate in this realm again.”
Ragnar brought a drink over for her and she paused to take a long swig before continuing. “It worked. He woke first and started his hunt without me. I eventually awoke and followed him out here. He was working hard to complete his mission, throwing all caution to the wind and embracing the very powers that had twisted him.”
She paused for another swig and Ragnar asked, “Then the doom you warned us of was the expected result of Narcion’s use of necromancy?”
“Yes. It was what I believed inevitable, but somehow he managed to stay focused on the mission until the end. Had he not – ” she paused for a moment, took a deep breath and continued. “Had he not, it would have ushered in an era ruled by the undead.”
It had not been very long since Narcion had died in that final battle and she obviously mourned him deeply. Even Felix was quiet for a moment.
“He redeemed himself,” said Ragnar. “Whatever he had once been, he gave his life to save the realm and will always be remembered as a hero of this era.”
“Thank you,” said Raquel.
“So why did you have to turn yourself in?” asked Felix.
“I failed the Wizard’s Council, the one from my era,” she said. “They had ordered me to kill Narcion when they found out about the tables, hoping to stop him before it was too late. I told them I would, but I was never able to bring myself to actually do it.”
“That seems very cruel, to order you to kill your own husband,” I said.
“It was a different time with different rules,” she replied.
“What was the penalty for failure?” asked Felix.
“Death,” she said. “But the Wizard’s Council of today is very different to that which once ruled this realm. Grandmaster Vydor gave me a full pardon even before learning the whole story, and he posthumously reinstated Narcion as a full wizard of the realm.”
“And you?” I asked.
“Yes, me too. I’m fully reinstated and back on active duty, serving the Council,” she said.
“Then what are you doing way out here?” asked Felix.
“I came to find you,” she said.
“Me?” asked Felix.
“Well, everyone, but particularly you.” She rummaged around in her pack and pulled out a datapad. “This is a gift from the Wizard Kingdom in gratitude for your recent service.”
He took the pad, read it and almost dropped it in surprise. “But why?”
“What is it?” asked Crivreen.
“A second chance at life,” said Raquel.
“Freedom,” whispered Felix. “I could never repay this.”
“No, you couldn’t, because it’s a gift,” said Raquel with a slight smile.
“What do you mean by ‘a second chance’?” I asked.
“Grandmaster Vydor cleared up a debt which has kept Felix in chains for longer than you have known him,” said Raquel.
“A gift? Truly?” he asked. His face bore a look of shock. He was not the trusting type, and this gift seemed to rock his world.
“Yes. We are in space dock; you can walk out that door a free man, or stay on board and hear the offer I plan to make to the others,” she said.
Felix looked in the direction of the airlock and then around the room. “I think I’ll stay to hear this offer.”
Raquel smiled and looked at Ragnar. “Ragnar, as you know, you are a criminal in your own land for illegally traveling to this realm.”
“Yes. I suppose as an official representative of the Council you have to deport me?” he asked.
“I could, but Grandmaster Vydor has asked me to offer you full citizenship of the Wizard Kingdom instead. This is a standing offer to all wizards who have come over, but it would have to be permanent. Relations have broken down between the realms and it is unlikely there will ever be an option for you to return without incurring wrath from their counci
l,” she said.
“Full citizenship?” he asked.
“Yes, and full status as a wizard of the kingdom,” she said.
“Would I have to return with you to the Wizard Kingdom?” he asked.
“No, and that brings us to the main reason I’m out here. I’m authorized to offer all of you full citizenship and training. I plan to pick up where my husband left off. I am recreating the Sac’a’rith and hope all of you will join me.”
Chapter Six
“Are you saying we would be full-blown wizards?” asked Crivreen.
“Yes,” said Raquel.
“We already have a contract with Master Spectra,” Felix pointed out. “How would this be any different?”
“What contract?” asked Raquel.
“We made an agreement with them a couple of weeks ago. I guess you haven’t heard the details,” I said and told her about the arrangement.
“Ah, yes. We need armor, but that makes you merely a merchant rather than a full citizen,” said Raquel.
“Right, but if we join you then we’d be expected to provide the armor for nothing, since it would be our job. Seems like we lose,” said Felix.
Raquel chuckled. “You always focus on the short-term and miss the larger picture. You are welcome to turn down my offer and stay as you are, running errands for the Phareon government until they grow tired of you or some department head changes and they throw you out like yesterday’s leftovers.”
“What would be expected of us?” I asked.
“Zah’rak,” she said, “it would be like it was under Narcion, with the added benefit of having citizenship in the Wizard Kingdom and all the protection that comes with that.”
“You said we wouldn’t return to the Wizard Kingdom, though?” asked Ragnar.
“Correct. The council needs us out here while they form a presence in this region. We are to try to build goodwill with the locals while I train you.”
“What do you all think?” I asked privately via our telepathic network.
“We should accept her offer,” sent Ragnar without hesitation.
“Absolutely!” sent Crivreen. “How could we pass this up? We always talked about flying across the galaxy to join them. Here’s our chance!”
“Felix?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I mean, you guys should do it; like Crivreen said, it’s what you’ve always wanted,” he sent.
“What about you?” I asked.
“I don’t know, I just don’t know,” he sent.
“Shira?” asked Ragnar.
“Whatever Zah’rak thinks is best,” she sent.
“What’s the problem, Felix?” I asked.
“For the first time in ages I have a choice, and I’m not sure I want to give up my freedom now that I’ve just got it back,” he sent.
I didn’t want to see him go, but I did understand his point. “Well, Felix, the choice is yours, but I presume if we accept her offer you’ll have to leave if you don’t join us.”
“Yes, I will,” he sent and then said aloud, “It has been great, and I appreciate everything you have all done for me, but I think it’s time I headed home. I haven’t seen my family in years.”
“I am sorry you’re leaving,” said Raquel. “Contact me if you ever change your mind. In the meantime, the Phareon government might not take too kindly to your departure, so you should be careful.”
“No worries. It’s not like ‘Felix’ is my real name, anyway,” he said. After a brief stop in his quarters to gather his gear, he moved to the airlock.
Crivreen began to stop him, but I grabbed his shoulder. “Let him go.”
Crivreen sighed. As the airlock cycled to let Felix off, he asked, “But why?”
“Felix never wanted to be part of the team. Narcion and I knew he was only tagging along until he was sure you were safe, and now you are,” I said.
“Does this mean you accept my offer?” asked Raquel.
I wasn’t convinced yet that I should turn over leadership to her. Narcion had left the Sac’a’rith in my care, and I didn’t want to dishonor his memory. “We’ll see, but first we have to pick up some supplies to fill Master Spectra’s order. Crivreen, undock and lay in our course. Raquel, please come with us and we can talk more en route.”
She smiled. “Sure.”
“By the way, how did you find us?” I asked.
She stood, gestured to me to follow, and took me up to Narcion’s room. “I will show you. Please open this.”
I placed my hand on the scanner and gave the command to unlock the door. The room had been sealed since Narcion’s death and I let no one enter, but as his widow I felt she should have access.
“What’s in that chest?” she asked.
Narcion’s room looked essentially unused. The furniture and trappings were what one would expect to find in a brand-new unused room. It had always been that way, with two exceptions. The first was a large, thick curtain which covered the back wall, and the other was an old wooden chest in the middle of the floor. It was made of real wood, not the synthetic manufactured wood that was used throughout the galaxy. It was the only real wood I had ever owned and in that way it was special to me, but not nearly as special as the contents would be to Raquel.
“That chest contains what Ragnar and I rescued from Narcion’s home in Korshalemia. I suppose you should have it now,” I said.
“Korshalemia? How long did he live there?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. The stories I heard were unclear about his coming and going, but best guess is fifteen to twenty years,” I said.
“He never mentioned that. He must have awoken long before I did,” she said quietly. Raquel knelt by the chest and slowly moved her hand across the intricate carvings on its top and side. It was made of some local wood from the forest in Korshalemia and the writing and symbols were a mystery to me.
It had two large metal hinges that I assumed were hand-forged, as Korshalemia didn’t have any machines to make them. The chest was held shut by a large latch in the front with a loop in it for a lock, although it had never been locked.
Inside the chest was everything I could find that would fit inside. Narcion’s house was slated to be destroyed and at the time I had hoped to find him alive, so I’d tried to save what I could of his personal belongings. I had no idea what was important to him, so I had had to guess. Now that the chest was passing into his widow’s possession, I worried that I might have chosen poorly.
I sighed deeply. There was no going back. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“No, wait.” She rose and walked over to the curtain.
This depicted a wonderful and hauntingly realistic forest scene. I never found out which forest was depicted, or why he had chosen this one. It was beautifully made from completely natural fibers and seemed to be one large continuous print. It was large enough to cover the entire wall from floor to ceiling. Even having done some sewing, I could not begin to guess how long it would take to weave something like this by hand, as I was sure this one had been woven; perhaps years or even decades.
She pulled it aside, revealing the gate. “This is how I found you.”
“What?” I asked.
“You didn’t lock the gate after you used it last. Anyone with the dimensional line, like myself and Shira, can track an unlocked gate wherever it goes.”
I looked over at the rune-covered ring in the wall. It was a large stone affair; far too big to have fitted through the door to the room, its presence therefore a complete mystery. The ring was unbroken and there seemed to be no way to take it apart. It was massive enough to allow two Zalionians walking shoulder to shoulder to pass through without ducking. When we had activated it it created a doorway to another realm, Korashalemia, where we found Ragnar, Narcion’s house and all the items that were in the chest.
I had used it to search for Narcion when we had thought he had been captured but hadn’t given it any thought since the
n. “How do I lock it?”
She placed her hand over the rune at the topmost part of the ring and said a command word. The center of the ring briefly pulsed with azure light. “Only the Sac’a’rith can operate this gate,” she said.
“That’s why Crivreen couldn’t?” I asked.
“Yes, and the reason I pulled you in here alone. Crivreen and Ragnar are not Sac’a’rith, as you and I are,” she said.
“What do you mean?” I queried. Narcion had often talked about the noble order of the Sac’a’rith and insisted I was the first of a new generation, a rebirth of the order; but he’d never told me what the Sac’a’rith were, or what I was supposed to do after his death.
“Just as one has to be born a magus, one has to be born a Sac’a’rith,” she said.
“But Narcion invited me in and said that the others could join one day, too,” I said.
“Narcion wasn’t a member of the order,” she said. “That invitation wasn’t valid. You and I are the only living members of the order of the Sac’a’rith that I know of. I accepted your nomination when Narcion offered it to you, so you are a member, full and true.”
I sat down on Narcion’s bed and tried to get my mind around it. “Then he lied to me?”
“No, not intentionally. Narcion believed he could restart the order and invited you in good faith, but it was not his place.” She looked back at the ring and ran her hand over the runes. “Which one did the chest come from?”
I pointed to one. “That one, but it doesn’t matter. They planned to destroy the gate after Ragnar and I came through, and that’s why we took the chest. Ragnar’s people were worried that the Korashalemian Wizard’s Council would be angry with them if the gate were discovered. He slipped through and convinced me to let him stay.”
“I see. That makes sense except that the rune is still connected, so they never destroyed the gate,” she said.
I knew that was an important piece of information, but my mind was still reeling over what she had revealed of Narcion. “What does this all mean for us now?”
Sac'a'rith Page 4
