Sac'a'rith

by Vincent Trigili

  I pulled out a scanner and swept the room for recording devices. Once I was sure the room was clean, I put everything back. “Obviously, you never saw that panel.” I realized too late that I should have waited until he was out of the room. I was slipping and that wasn’t good, especially not with Resden agents after me.

  “Who did this?” he asked.

  “I was interrogated by a Resden agent at the hospital, but I didn’t have any information for him,” I said. “I assume that he or his cronies did this.”

  “Then I was right not to call anyone,” he said. “Any idea why?”

  “No,” I said. It didn’t make sense for them to search my room. It wouldn’t have gotten them anything and they must have known that, so why do it? He helped me clean up the room and then left to get some food to restock my destroyed supplies.

  I climbed into bed and rested for a moment. The one fact that I hadn’t told the doctor concerned me greatly. In the midst of that pain, I’d had a moment of clarity: a memory of my attacker picking me up and carrying me while another man opened a gate. The agent interviewing me was the magus who opened that gate.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Zah’rak, I should lead,” said Shira. “I’m the only one who knows the way.”

  I wanted to argue but knew she was right. At least I could see easily over her head. “Okay.”

  We walked a few strides down the stairs, then Shira said, “Pull the door shut and lock it so no one can come up behind us.”

  From inside, the trapdoor appeared to be in far better condition and more than adequately sealed the passage. As the door closed we were plunged into darkness. I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind. My power of Sight meant I didn’t need visible light in order to see. I looked back and saw Ragnar activate the night vision visor on his helmet, but Raquel didn’t.

  Shira activated her staff and a small amount of light surrounded us. “Is that enough for everyone?”

  “Shira, douse the staff,” said Raquel. “You don’t need it to see.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Douse the staff and I will show you,” Raquel replied.

  Shira put out the staff and said, “I can’t see anything.” There wasn’t even the slightest tremor in her voice. I would have been nervous in her position, totally blind in a crypt with the undead wandering around. I supposed that she might have become used to it over the years she had lived here.

  Raquel slipped by me and knelt before Shira. “Shira, close your eyes and relax.” Raquel reached out and took Shira’s hand. “You can feel me and you can hear me. You know I’m right here. Focus on my voice. Push all other thoughts out of your mind. Can you feel my breath? Can you smell me?”

  “I know you’re there, but … ” she began.

  “No ‘buts’. Remember, magic works through willpower and belief. Put aside your doubts and concentrate on my voice.” Raquel quietly and slowly coaxed Shira to use the power of Sight that all Sac’a’rith possessed.

  “Wow,” whispered Shira. “The whole tunnel is in black and white except for us.”

  “Yes,” said Raquel. “You are seeing by the light of the weave. The weave is everywhere, so you can always see. Even if your eyes were destroyed, you wouldn’t be blind.

  “Things look different because of the way the light works. The stronger connection to the weave an object has, the brighter it will be. Rocks have no real connection, so they are indistinct and only appear because they absorb the light. Magi, like us, have a strong connection, so we should appear sharp and in full color. Mundanes will be someplace in-between and tend to look grey and fuzzy.”

  “So that’s why I can see the dead. It’s because they’re still connected to the weave,” I said.

  “You can’t see the dead. At least, they’d look no more distinct than these rocks,” said Raquel. “I understand the confusion, and it’s due to the unfortunate use of the term ‘undead’. When a person or creature dies, they’re dead. They don’t come back as ghosts or zombies. Zombies are, as you know, just animated corpses, and are not people raised from the dead. Wraiths and other spirits were always spirits and never people.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “What about that spirit we met on Nemesis, Nanny? Surely she was someone’s grandmother once?”

  “Nanny?” asked Raquel.

  Shira giggled. “Nanny is a dinjini who serves on the Nemesis.”

  “A dinjini? Serving wizards?” asked Raquel. “How can this be?”

  “Oh, she’s the sweetest thing. Really, you’d love her,” said Shira.

  “Sweet?” asked Raquel. “Dinjinis are natives of the spirit realm, very powerful and extremely dangerous!”

  “Not her,” I said. “They call her Nanny and she takes care of the crew, pretty much like a grandmother would.”

  “Seriously, Raquel, you’d have to meet her to understand.” Shira turned to me. “But she was never a person like you and I. Raquel is right; what we call ‘undead’ are really just animated corpses or natives of the Spirit Realm, for the most part at least.”

  I wondered if the others on Nemesis understood that. They seemed to love Nanny and saw her as a person. “Let’s keep moving,” I said, and Shira led us deeper into the catacombs. I wondered what she’d meant by her comment, ‘for the most part’, but Raquel spoke up before I could ask.

  “So much has changed,” said Raquel. “A grandmaster who is kind and forgiving, a wizard nation state, a master level spiritualist and now dinjinis serving among wizards. I’m not sure I can keep up with all of this.”

  “Tell me about it,” said Ragnar.

  Raquel chuckled. “I’m sure you have a lot to adjust to also.”

  “How far will we have to walk?” I asked.

  “From this entrance, it’ll be a good couple of hours,” said Shira. “About halfway there we will probably start encountering the guards that my former master installed down here.”

  “Guards?” queried Ragnar.

  “They never bothered me on my trips down here, but things are different now so we’ll just have to see how it goes,” she said.

  We walked in silence for a while and then Ragnar asked, “It’s the binding, isn’t it?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Raquel.

  “Raquel, how do you know?” asked Ragnar.

  “What are we talking about?” I asked again.

  Raquel sighed. “Let’s stop here a moment. It would be good for everyone to hear this.”

  “Then go ahead and break out some rations and water,” I said. If we were going to stop anyway, we might as well make good use of the time.

  Once we were settled with our meals she continued. “In Korshalemia, things are very different to the way they are here. Their wizard’s council rules the entire known realm and is much closer to a religious order than what we have. Here Grandmaster Vydor has set up the wizards as more of a nation state, contrary to what the Korshalemian wizards tried to create and much to their disapproval.

  “In Korshalemia, the wizards are constantly watching for magi to be born and make a concerted effort to make sure that no magus is allowed to reach adulthood without first going through the binding. Kings and other rulers live in constant fear of the Wizard’s Council, so they cooperate fully.

  “Once magi become of age, they’re sent to the wizards for evaluation. If it’s determined that they are likely to become sorcerers, their powers are bound by extremely invasive psychic means, and they are forbidden under penalty of death ever to practice magic. Most of these magi end up trying to use their powers in defiance of the ban and are usually killed, unless they join the sorcerers.

  “If they pass the test and may use their abilities, then certain power lines are checked for. For example, spiritualism is a forbidden art. If it’s determined that theirs is one of those forbidden lines, they are likewise bound and ordered never to attempt to use it.” She
paused there to take a drink of water.

  “What does this have to do with us?” I asked.

  “Everything!” she said and paused for a moment before continuing. “As we rebuild the Sac’a’rith, we need to know the mistakes that were made before us so we can learn from them. The Korshalemian wizards are a perfect example of a good idea executed poorly.”

  “But why this whole ruse with the basic powers, and how do you know all this?” asked Ragnar.

  “The basic powers are among the forbidden arts in Korshalemia. They’re seen as profane and are believed to be a gateway to the darker arts. At this stage, the vast majority of magi don’t even know anymore that the powers exist. It’s primarily magi of elite level who know about them and are aware they’ve been blocked.

  “One such elite wizard is Mantis, the primary benefactor who set up the Wizard’s Council for this realm. He’s well known for dissenting from some of the practices of the Wizard’s Council in Korshalemia, and one of the practices he dislikes most is the binding ceremony, so he worked to make sure it wouldn’t be repeated here.

  “When the Wizard’s Council discovered that, they worried about dissension in their own ranks, so they made up the story that basic powers differed between wizards. Grandmaster Vydor had no reason not to believe them and so never questioned it until much later.

  “Not wanting to court disaster by sending over other wizards like Mantis, from then on the Korshalemian Wizard’s Council carefully chose only the most loyal magi to their cause to send here, and instructed them to make sure the magi of this realm were brought up properly.”

  “And by ‘properly’ you mean ‘loyal to them and their ways’?” I asked.

  “Exactly,” she said. “Grandmaster Vydor is no fool and realized what was happening, so he countered that plan by sending back their instructors as quickly as he could train up people to replace them, but in the end it was Mathorn who was first to fully reveal what was going on.”

  “Who is Mathorn?” asked Shira.

  “Heir to the seat of Grandmaster in Korshalemia,” said Ragnar quietly.

  “Yes, he was.” She paused there and took a bite of food. “Mathorn used his position and influence to take over the magi assignments to this realm. He gathered elite magi who weren’t so tightly bound to Korshalem and convinced them to serve here in our realm. When most of them learned how differently things were being done here, and that things like the binding ceremony were not being performed, they chose to move here permanently. With their help, Grandmaster Vydor was moved into a stronger position where Korshalem couldn’t simply force his hand. As for how I know all this, Mathorn told us of Korshalem’s plans and through him we learned of the binding and other more despicable practices which they tried to hide from us.”

  Ragnar spat and said something in a language I didn’t recognize. “Such deception and scheming hardly seems proper for a wizard.”

  “I agree, but the unfortunate truth is that when people in any realm are put into a position of power they tend to want to protect that position, often at any cost,” said Raquel.

  “What’s to stop the same from happening here?” I asked.

  “Ultimately, only those who keep the rulers in check; but the master wizards we currently have are all good people. I think we’ll be fine, at least for the time being.”

  “How can we enable Ragnar to use basic powers again?” asked Shira.

  “I will contact the Wizard’s Council to find out when we’re back in deep space,” she said. “I’m sure it can be done, but it’s beyond my abilities.”

  “Ragnar, are you okay?” I asked. He had a faraway look in his eyes.

  “Yeah,” he said. “It’s just a lot to take in. There were hints about this kind of thing, and a general distrust of the Wizard’s Council, but I never had any real facts before.”

  “Then let’s get going again.” I thought it best to give him time to process what he’d just learned. “I don’t know what those sorcerers we killed were doing here, but I’d guess they had a good reason and more of them will probably come along at some point.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Walking in silence for a while, I was considering asking Raquel about the Wizard Kingdom when Shira sent, “Hold!”

  We all froze and I asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Zah’rak, around the next turn there should be a door and the last time I was here it was guarded by skeletal knights,” she sent.

  “How many?” I asked.

  “At least a half-dozen, maybe. I don’t really know. It wasn’t important until now,” she sent.

  “Even if it’s a dozen, Zah’rak and I should have no problem handling them,” said Raquel.

  “I agree, but watch our backs in case more arrive,” I said. Shira and Ragnar nodded in agreement and fell back a few strides behind us. “Ready?”

  Raquel silently drew her swords and nodded.

  I drew mine and eased up to the corner to discreetly look around. “I see ten of them standing in a tight formation in front of a closed stone door.”

  “Rush on three?” asked Raquel.

  “Sure,” I sent and then counted down from three. On one I charged around the corner and barreled full speed into the middle of their number. The two out in front attempted to stop me, but lacked the mass to do anything but be thrown clear. As I got into the center of the group I swung my tail around in a full circle, sending more of them flying. Raquel charged in behind me and expertly used the opening I had created to move into position, guarding my back.

  “When you say you’re going to rush a line, you really mean it!” she sent with a laugh.

  I wondered what she meant by ‘rush’ if it wasn’t what I’d done, but there was no time to find out. Several skeletons came in at once, each with a sword and shield but no armor to speak of.

  “They’re skilled, but physically weak. You should be able to drive right though their blocks,” sent Raquel.

  As the first three closed on my position, I lunged forward and swung hard at the closest of the three. He raised his shield to block the swing, but too late. My blade connected with his arm, drove through to his chest, and the brittle bones crumbed under the blow.

  The second skeleton swung his sword at my exposed side, but I was ready with my off-hand sword to parry. Pivoting on my rear foot, I brought my main sword around and removed his head. The third skeleton slammed into my side with his shield, but its strength was insufficient to move my mass. I continued my spin and brought my tail around. He attempted to block my tail with his shield, but I had too much force to be stopped. My tail drove his shield into his chest and sent him flying out of the fight and into the wall, destroying most of his brittle bones.

  I sheathed my swords and charged the two remaining skeletons on my side, grabbed them both and threw them into the wall. Then I spun around to see how Raquel was doing.

  As I looked over she removed the head from the final skeleton. “Clear,” she said.

  “Clear,” I confirmed. All that was left of the guards was a pile of broken bones and their weapons. I saw Raquel searching the remains, just as she’d searched the bodies of the sorcerers. I hadn’t seen anyone do that before as religiously as she did. “What are you looking for?”

  “Anything that might be of value to us,” she said distractedly.

  “What could they have?” asked Shira as she and Ragnar walked up.

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m checking,” she replied.

  “Raquel is right,” said Ragnar. “It always bothered me that we don’t search bodies before moving on. I never said anything before because I was worried it might be some cultural taboo, and I didn’t want to offend.”

  “I don’t follow,” I said.

  “The rule is simple: we don’t know what we’ll face ahead, so always check bodies in case there’s something you’ll need later,” said Raquel.

  I wondered what a skeleton could carry that w
ould be of value. Then Ragnar asked, “Where did you get your swords?”

  “You were there; we got them from the remains of the skeletal army that attacked – oh, I see what you’re getting at,” I said. “I guess you never know what you might find that could come in handy.”

  “Exactly,” said Raquel, “but I don’t see much here, so how do we open this door?”

  Shira walked up to it and asked, “Ready?” When we all nodded she tapped the door three times with her staff and said a command word. The door vanished, revealing a long dark corridor. “Go through so I can close it behind us.”

  Once everyone was through she tapped the air three times where the door had been, uttered the same command word and it reappeared. “It’s just occurred to me: this door can only be opened and closed with a sun staff. That was an odd choice for a necromancer.”

  “What lies ahead?” I asked as we started down the corridor.

  “Two more doors like this one with about the same level of security, then another fifteen or twenty minutes’ walk to the storage room door,” she said.

  “Why so deep?” I asked.

  “He was paranoid about all kinds of things, including someone finding this storage room. He took extreme measures in everything.”

  “Ten skeletal nights is not very extreme,” said Raquel.

  She nodded. “I’m hoping the storeroom guards are long gone, or we might be gating out empty-handed as fast as we possibly can.”

  “Perhaps now would be a good time to tell us about them,” suggested Raquel dryly.

  Shira inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled a few times before answering. “Soul-Witches.”

  Raquel stopped in her tracks. “Are you sure?”

  “Completely,” she said.

  “What are they?” I asked.

  “A much deadlier form of spirit than anything you’ve faced before,” said Raquel. “Shira is right; we’ll probably have to beat a retreat if they’re still here.”