Masters of the Veil

by Daniel A. Cohen

Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes.

  ***

  “This is pretty good.” Sam munched on the crispy item Bariv had given him. “Probably the best food I’ve ever eaten in a cave.”

  “My own recipe. I usually use it as a reward for excellent training, but in this case I figured I could make an exception.” Bariv gave him a sympathetic look. “You looked hungry.”

  “Very funny.” Sam ate the next bite in the most obnoxious way possible. “But you have to admit I’m getting better.”

  “Yes… better.”

  “Hey!” Sam dropped half of his food, barely noticing when it shattered on the cave floor. “I got that rock to move at least a foot!”

  Bariv looked at him dubiously.

  “Okay. A few inches.”

  “Yes, you did. Normally, however, that is what my students accomplish in the first few hours.” Bariv’s eyes drifted to one of the candles.

  Sam stopped eating. “Really?”

  Bariv stared at the flickering light. “Hmm? Yes, but…” He bent down, scooping the small flame into his right hand. The candle went out. He went over to the cave wall and smeared the fire across the stone. The flame snuffed out as Bariv’s hand came away from the surface, revealing an image burned into the stone. A thick line of black ash flowed in sort of an S-shape, with a few cinders continuing to burn along the dark streak.

  Sam flexed an eyebrow. “But what?”

  “Well,” Bariv returned to the front of the platform, “the way you stopped my attack earlier. That was incredibly advanced. I did not hold back.”

  “Why did you attack me in the first place?”

  Bariv jumped off the platform and poked Sam in the chest. “There was so much for you to see.”

  “But I could barely see it. That light was coming at me at, like, a hundred miles an hour.”

  Bariv chuckled and stepped back. “Instinct.” He tapped a finger on his own chest. “You weren’t thinking, you were doing. It was innate. You had to see your ability. You needed to know what you are capable of. In most intense situations, sorcerers are able to make grips that they would never be capable of in normal circumstances. I put you in danger and you overcame.”

  “Yet I still can’t perform the basics?”

  Bariv gave a tiny nod. “Precisely.”

  “What’s the deal?”

  “Basics are tough. You have to learn the fundamentals, and that takes time and practice. You have to learn how to work in harmony with the Veil or you will be limited. Remember, you can steal a gift—”

  “Yeah, yeah, but I won’t have earned it.”

  Bariv rubbed his fingertips together and a blue current played across his knuckles. “There is something else that I wanted you to see.”

  Sam groaned. “You’re not going to show me more of my memories on that wall, are you?”

  “The Veil protected you. She was there for you in a time of need.” Bariv paused. “Did you know how to stop my attack?”

  “No, it just happened.”

  “Yes.” The electricity pendulumed back and forth on Bariv’s forearms. “It did. You did not force it; it happened naturally, you and the Veil working together. She sees you as one of Her children. You are bonded.”

  Sam waited for more, but none came. “Your point?”

  “Just something to remember.” Bariv’s eyes took on that aged sheen for a moment. “Give me the second-skin.”

  “Huh?” Sam clutched the skull-wolf glove to his chest. “Wait, you just gave this to me. You’ve got to give me more time. You said yourself, the basics take—”

  “Give it to me.”

  Sam scowled as he pulled off the glove and handed it over to Bariv, who placed it back on the pedestal.

  “Good.” Bariv’s hand lingered on the skin for a few moments.

  Sam snorted.

  “Now, it is time for you to get your own second-skin. I have a feeling that will make all the difference. These skins work for training purposes, but since they were molded by my own hand, they are linked to me, not the student. I believe you will have better success with one linked solely to you.”

  Sam went over to the glowing podium, picking up the green second-skin. It was light and cool to the touch. “Really? I get one already?”

  Bariv snapped his fingers. The skin slipped from Sam’s hand and shuffled itself back into place on the podium. “Yes.”

  “So where do we get one?”

  “We don’t get one anywhere.”

  Sam raised his eyebrows. “Huh?”

  “It is you who must get it.”

  Sam scratched the back of his head. “But I don’t know where the store is.”

  “Oh, dear boy.” Bariv chuckled—a funny sound coming from someone who looked so young. “There is no store. You must go out and make one for yourself. Just buying it could never bond you with the second-skin. If you want a link to Her, you must use something from Her, and get it on your own accord. You must find the right material and make the second-skin yourself to form the necessary bond.”

  “Ah.” Sam reached down to touch one of the metal thimbles, but found that his fingers were softly repelled. “One of those lone quest things to prove myself, huh?” Sam sighed, and then waved a playful fist at Bariv. “So what do I do now? What kind of glove do I get?”

  “Second-skin,” Bariv corrected. “And let’s focus on the most important thing.”

  “How I get good enough to never have to listen to you drone on for hours on end?”

  Bariv ignored him. “What sect of magic She will allow you to master.”

  “Oh.”

  “I think we both already know the answer to that.”

  Sam’s eyes darted toward the skull-wolf glove. “So I have to kill something? You said power magics work best if the second-skin is taken forcibly, right?”

  “It is never good to kill for greed.” Bariv started pacing around the cave, his feet glowing red after every step. “In Atlas Crown, our food is given to us by the Veil. We are never hungry, as food is always available, and many in our community specialize in perfecting and transforming new recipes.” He halted. “You must try the frapelcarnes made by Grun of the Sunder clan at some point. He sends me mounds of them every now and again, but I digress.” His pacing resumed, as if he could think better in motion. “Creatures She sends often bear gifts to us that do not involve slaughter. Because of this, we almost never eat meat in our community, and creatures’ lives are never ended—by our hands. Population control is taken care of by Her, because if too many of a certain creature are given, they can also be taken away.”

  “But you had to kill this skull-wolf thing?”

  “Ahh,” Bariv started moving faster, “Not every gift is meant for the initial recipient. The skull-wolf was an unfortunate poison that needed to be eliminated. Since we do not waste the Veil’s bounty—as I’m sure you will see—I made the skin of the skull-wolf into something useful with my own hands.”

  Sam’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “So, do you have, like, any leftover skin?”

  “No, because you still would not have the necessary link if it was not taken by your own hand.”

  Sam raised his voice. “You don’t make any sense. If I can’t kill anything and I can’t use something that is already dead, then I can’t do power magic.”

  Bariv pointed at the candle from which he’d scooped the fire, which instantly flared to life. “Unless you know a loophole.”

  “Do you?”

  “More of a snake-hole.”

  Sam furrowed his brow. “You lost me.”

  “It has been a long time since someone was invited into the power arts; however, you are not the first. I know of a creature that will fill the required need.”

  “So why snake-ho—” Sam stopped mid-sentence. “Ohhhhh.”

  “I am not Her eyes for nothing.” Bariv gave him a somewhat smug smile. “There is actually a lot of wisdom brewing in this child-sized cauldron.”

  “Cauldron, huh?” S
am asked, returning the look. “Cliché much?”

  “Figuratively speaking, of course.”

  “So this snake,” Sam cracked his knuckles, “I assume I have to find the skin that it shed?”

  “That he shed… and no.”

  “He? He who?”

  “He who is dangerous, cunning, and extremely elusive. You know that lone quest that you were talking about earlier?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Bariv flashed a wicked grin. “You guessed right.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Samuel Lock’s fingertips pierced the caked mud up to his second knuckle.

  “Well.” Sam’s face scrunched in disgust. “This is pleasant.” His nose was now just inches away from the putrid material encased in the small sack Bariv had given him. Sam was in this predicament after tripping over who-knows-what in the near pitch black.

  He gave a sharp exhale and pulled himself to his feet.

  “Sam.” He did his best to imitate Bariv’s voice. “Why don’t you just go right into the forest and look for an extremely elusive snake-thing? Am I going to tell you anything about it? No… I don’t think that’s necessary. Only one who needs to hear the truth seeks the blah blah blah. I’m going to let you figure it out on your own. Oh, and here, take this stuff. Oh, and don’t be alarmed that it smells like a fart trapped in a gym sock. Why? Oh, you’ll see… have fun.”

  He wiped off what dirt he could feel, and his hand brushed across the pocket on his thigh that held the diamond. He was back out in the woods that had captivated him so much during the day. At night, it was a different ballgame. That feeling that someone was watching him had returned. He hoped it was Bariv, as he was alone in a strange place with nothing to protect himself with—other than the moldy tang coming from the pouch he held at arms’ length, which he guessed no creature would want to come near, anyway. He squinted and scanned the darkness for any signs of life, but all he could see was the glow of the green, heat-less fire from a couple of vines off in the distance.

  He had no clue where he was.

  About an hour ago, Bariv had taken Sam to the back of the platform in the cave and created a door in the rock that had opened into the forest. He’d conjured up the foul-smelling sack—along with Sam’s cleats—out of thin air, handed them both to Sam, then shoved him through the threshold, closing the rock behind him and sealing Sam out in the woods.

  Sam had trudged through the multi-colored vegetation in no particular direction, holding the disgusting stuff as far from his nose as possible and hoping that something, anything, would happen. After the nasty fall over what might’ve been a protruding root, Sam found himself wishing that all the trees were zigzag trees.

  He slowed his pace and continued in a random direction. The one thing Bariv had cautioned him about was not to go near the protective borders. Bariv had warned him that as he got close, he would hear a low buzz that would get louder the closer he got. He’d said that Sam wouldn’t be able to get past the border—as it was strong enough to keep a grotlon away from jelly-bees—and warned Sam not to try.

  “Great way to treat guests,” Sam mumbled.

  Soft hoots came from the treetops. Sam stared into the moonlit sky, looking for whatever little creature was making the noise, until he realized it was the leaves themselves.

  Sam hooted back and the sounds stopped.

  “Fine, then,” Sam huffed.

  He kept his back toward the stone pillars and slowed to a languorous pace. The one nice thing about being out here was how clear the night sky appeared. The stars popped like firecrackers. Even on a clear night back home, when he would sit on the empty Carver field after a victorious game, the stars never seemed so bright.

  In the sky above Atlas Crown, they flickered like tiny fires, set to show the world where to turn, but Sam didn’t know which ones to follow.

  A sudden snap came from behind him.

  Immediately pivoting—like he’d been trained to do on the field—he held out the rancid heap.

  Behind him was just more forest… endless, endless forest. As his racing heart slowed,

  something peculiar caught his eye. Hovering above a small bush—one with orange, tentacled branches—was a little black swirl, the same size and shape as the ones he had seen around his car and in his dream.

  The swirl inched away. Sam traced the path it followed and saw more little swirls, just like the first. They looked like the ones on Bariv’s cheeks, but larger.

  He should have put two and two together earlier.

  “Hey,” Sam shouted. “C’mon out, Bariv. I know it’s you!”

  No answer.

  “It’s really okay. It makes sense that you would follow me. I’m just too clever for you.”

  Sam barreled his way between two of the mutant orange bushes to follow the black swirls.

  “You don’t have to play this game anymore. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that I found you out!”

  Sam had to quicken his pace to keep up with Bariv’s swirls, which were quite spry.

  “C’mon, I can see you up ahead!” Sam lied.

  Sam revved up to a full sprint. He’s pretty quick for a guy with such short legs. Hopping over mounds of blue earth and tiny creeks, Sam muscled his way onward through the underbrush.

  Then the black swirls vanished.

  Sam stopped short, barely huffing and puffing even after running at full speed over half a football field’s worth of jungle floor.

  “Man…”

  The jungle around him was silent. Sam noticed, however, that it was not so much jungle anymore. All around him was a smooth, colorless, quartz-like material. The ground beneath his feet was almost like a glass floor, but with nothing underneath. Resting on his thigh, on his brand new football pants—though by now they needed to be changed, anyway—was the disgusting sack of gunk that Bariv had given him. He pulled the bag away from the formerly white material, but some of the slime, safely inside of the pouch a few moments ago, now seeped out. He almost threw up the food Bariv had given him as a training reward.

  “Aww,” Sam moaned. “C’mon.”

  Attempting to take his mind off the renewed stink, Sam bent down to examine what he was standing on. With his pinky, he flaked off a long, thin layer and held it up to the moonlight to get a better look. Something small and colorful twinkled inside.

  Bringing it closer revealed a reflection of his eye… only it wasn’t his eye. It was red.

  Am I seeing things? Is this some weird effect of the moonlight? He stared at the red eye, which seemed to be unattached to a face.

  “Bariv!” Sam shouted into the vast expanse. “I know you’re there.”

  An eerie silence crept over the landscape. Adrenaline careened through his veins, so he took a slow, deep breath, knowing that a frantic heart would only generate frantic behavior.

  There’s nothing to be afraid of. Man up.

  Then something soft and warm, like a kiss from fevered lips, pressed against his thigh. There, feeling the putrid material, was a long forked tongue. The ends—which were the color of raw meat—flicked about his leg, pressing into the white fabric. The viscous saliva made his skin crawl.

  Too shocked to run, Sam’s gaze followed the tongue to a tremendous mouth, outfitted with tremendous fangs. His body finally let him react, and he jumped, sprinting to anywhere but there.

  Bariv said “snake,” not “monster!”

  The tongue and mouth—hopefully far behind him—belonged to what had to be by far the world’s largest snake. Its body was like an oil pipeline, and its fangs could probably pierce a bank vault. It looked like a leftover dinosaur… something the other dinosaurs would run away from.

  Sam’s cleats clacked against the glassy surface as he took cover against the curve of what could have served as a crystal amphitheater. The quartz here was less opaque, and it looked to be a few feet thick under his feet. Underneath it, all he could see was black. His heart seemed less intent on breaking through his ribcage as he for
ced his breathing to slow.

  Around him the crystal walls glittered in the reflected light of the too-bright stars. Intricate cracks made long shelves and designs, traveling all the way up to the natural bridges overhead. For the moment, Sam felt safe.

  Then the smell caught up with him again. Running had left his nostrils free of the gag-inducing mulch that Bariv had given him; however, at a standstill, it returned with a vengeance. He still clutched the bag in his fist. Why hadn’t he dropped it in his panic?

  He gasped and froze as the touch against his leg returned.

  The snake was again trying to lick his flesh. Its tongue curved around the corner and slithered up his leg. It made its way across Sam’s chest all the way to his outstretched hand, gently prodding the bag. How the snake had managed to sneak up on him, Sam could not fathom, but nevertheless there it was. How did it catch me? He had no idea what to do or how to get away. He felt a mighty panic washing over him. This is it, I am

  going to be eaten by a giant snake in the middle of nowhere. He clenched his eyes shut, and prepared for the first bite.

  “I believe that is meant for me.”

  Sam heard the voice in the center of his head, like music through headphones. He couldn’t see where it was coming from, as he was too terrified to open his eyes.

  “There,” the voice resonated in his brain again, “in your hand. That is for me, I presume.”

  Sam felt the tongue recede from his body.

  “What the—”

  “That is from Bariv, correct?”

  Sam carefully opened one eye and peeked at the bag. “Um…”

  “Is it for me or isn’t it? I can’t imagine you would have any interest in it yourself.”

  Sam stopped breathing as he realized where the voice in his head was coming from.

  “There is no way a snake is talking to me.” Sam clenched his eyes tight, shaking his head.

  “Believe what you want. But I still would like to have my present, if you please.”

  Bracing himself for the worst, Sam stretched out his quivering hand—still not daring to look.

  In one quick swipe, the bag was pulled from his grasp and the smell diminished. The creature’s retreat made no sound, yet Sam knew the danger was fading; he could feel the presence receding.