“He sounds like a brave lad,” frowned Marak. “Will he survive?”
“LifeTender is on a choka heading out to him now,” Lyra declared. “HawkShadow will keep the boy alive until she arrives. I am sure that he will live.”
“While I have no reason to doubt Kenda’s word,” StarWind continued, “I have sent scouts to verify his story. It is too important an event to take the word of a single boy.”
“A smart move, StarWind,” nodded Marak. “How soon will you know for sure?”
“We will know tonight,” answered StarWind. “I have a ship from Zaramilden heading there. HawkShadow also sent SkyDancer to check by land. She will not be able to enter the city, but she will be able to view it from the top of the Wall of Mermidion.”
“Then I shall stay until we know for sure,” declared Marak. “Let’s discuss what the significance of this event is as if it has occurred.”
“It is the invasion that we have been waiting for,” shrugged Lyra. “No one but the Motangans would attack in so vicious a way.”
“I would readily agree that the Motangans are behind the attack,” Marak shook his head, “but that does not mean the invasion has begun. Aakuta reports that Vand has a thousand ships, or soon will have. Why only send six?”
Lyra frowned and stared at the floor when Aakuta’s name was mentioned. She knew that Marak meant no disrespect to her father, but it still bothered her to have him called Aakuta.
“I apologize, Lyra,” Marak said softly when he saw Lyra’s reaction.
“You meant no disrespect,” Lyra smiled weakly. “It is something that I must get used to.”
“Can you think of any other reason to attack Duran?” asked StarWind.
“Possibly,” answered the Torak. “Vand knows that we use air tunnels to communicate. Perhaps he has found a way to intercept our communications and wants to verify it by monitoring what happens when we discover that Duran has been destroyed.”
“He might just want to see how we move our forces in reaction to the strike,” suggested Gunta. “It would be expected for the Sakovans to reposition their forces towards the east coast of the Sakova, but what would he expect the Khadorans to do?”
“A good point,” Marak nodded. “Between our three countries, we have a tremendous amount of coastline to protect. If Vand can draw our forces to any one particular point, it will make his invasion that much easier.”
“And if we keep our armies where they are,” added Halman, “he will easily break through our lines and get behind us.”
“Exactly,” agreed the Torak.
“There is also the terror aspect of it,” offered StarWind. “You can imagine what this will do for our morale when the people find out that Duran has been totally destroyed.”
“That can also work against Vand,” countered the Torak. “When word does get out, make sure that everyone knows that there was no chance for anyone to surrender. Vand does not plan to take any prisoners. We are all in this fight to the death, whether we want to be or not.”
“Well,” sighed Lyra, “the people are going to learn about what happened at Duran whether we tell them or not. It is only a matter of time. I propose that we use that time to determine how we will notify the people. I want to do it in a controlled manner so that the citizens can have their questions addressed rather than gather among themselves and spread rumors.”
“A wise decision,” agreed the Torak. “Khadora already has a mechanism that I can use to accomplish the task. It is the Assembly of Lords. You need something similar in the Sakova where you can have officials from each city gather. That way you can explain it to the assembly and then each of them can go home to explain it to the people of their cities.”
“The mayors would be a good choice for assemblymen,” suggested StarWind. “We could have them come to StarCity or hold the assemblies in different cities each meeting on a rotating basis.”
“I prefer the rotating cities idea,” nodded Lyra. “Set it up immediately. We will hold the first meeting in Okata.”
“But we have not confirmed the attack yet,” StarWind reminded the Star.
“It doesn’t matter,” shrugged Lyra. “We still need to start the assembly, and we will start it with a meeting. We have enough to discuss even if the attack did not occur. Set it up.”
StarWind nodded and left the room. Lyra paced the floor for a few moments, ending up in front of the wall map.
“This is coming too soon,” Lyra said softly. “We are not prepared for the war yet.”
Marak rose and walked up behind Lyra. He put his arms around her and held her.
“We will be ready,” he said softly. “I have a few ideas that I would like to discuss with you.”
* * *
The spy saw Marak and his two shadows slip out of the palace in Khadoratung. He eased into the darkness of a nearby alley as he wondered why the Emperor was wearing his black and silver clan colors rather than the white and gold of the Imperial Emperor.
Fisher had no reason to spy on the Torak, but his nature was one of constant curiosity. It was a trait that had made Fisher such a great spy. Fisher followed the trio to the new temple and slipped into the building after them. He let the small group get as far ahead of him as possible without losing them. He knew that Gunta and Halman rarely missed a detail when they were guarding the Torak.
Fisher saw Marak and his shadows enter the library. He chose a concealed place to wait for them to exit so that he could continue to follow them. He was extremely curious as to why Marak had chosen to wear his clan colors.
One minute slowly dragged on to the next. Fisher heard no conversations coming from the library. He heard no sounds of movement. After a long period of waiting, Fisher crept up to the library door. There was no one in sight. Perplexed, Fisher strode into the library. He walked slowly around the room, eyeing everything with suspicion, but finding nothing of interest.
Fisher had toured the new temple many times during its construction. In fact, he was amazed and thrilled to see an actual temple of Kaltara being built in the Khadoran capital. It showed the influence that the Torak had brought to the Khadorans. As he relived walking through the construction site, he remembered his curiosity regarding the small aberration in the perimeter of the library. He had assumed at the time that the library would have a small reading desk in an alcove, yet the library was perfectly rectangular. He walked to the area of the bookshelves where the alcove was supposed to be.
Fisher knelt before the bookshelves and gazed upward. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. Not satisfied that the alcove was a mistake of the builders, Fisher ran his hand under each shelf in the area. He smiled broadly when his fingers touched the metal latch. He triggered the latch and saw the bookshelf slide open slightly. He peered into the darkness and saw nothing.
Fisher slid past the bookshelf into the small alcove. He pulled the bookshelf closed and turned to examine the small room. He saw nothing other than a door and frowned. No doorway had been in the alcove during the construction. He was sure of that. The spy eased the mysterious door open and looked into a small, empty closet. His mind swam with confusion.
Fisher checked the small alcove one more time before stepping into the closet. It was extremely dark inside the closet so Fisher withdrew a candle from his pouch and lit it. Fearful of someone accidentally seeing the glow from his candle, Fisher closed the door to the closet and began inspecting every section of the walls for something that might not be obvious. He found nothing. Frustrated by the mystery, Fisher blew out the candle and opened the door. A cold breeze flowed across his feet, and the spy became instantly alert.
Fisher stowed his candle in a pouch and drew a dagger. It was a warm sunny day in Khadoratung, so Fisher assumed that a wizard created the cold breeze. He slowly moved out of the closet and eased the door shut. As he looked around the alcove, he frowned at seeing a second door leading off of it. He knew that there had only been one door a moment ago.
Fisher was about to
examine the second door, when he heard a noise in the other direction. He moved up against the back of the bookshelf and put his ear to it. He could hear people talking in the library, but he could not hear what they were saying. He saw a tiny stream of light coming through a hole and moved his eye towards it. He inhaled deeply as he gazed into the library. There were two Chula in the library cleaning the floor.
Fisher stood silently for a long time trying to figure out what was going on. Eventually he slid his dagger into its sheath and turned to gaze at the two doors behind him. He wondered where the second door went.
Loud noises drew Fisher’s attention back to the spy hole. He watched as the Chula left the library. With no one in sight, Fisher fingered the latch used to unlock the bookshelf. He pushed it open and walked into the library, pushing the bookshelf back in place. He strode out of the library as if he had just entered it to replace a book. The coolness in the air confirmed that he was no longer in Khadoratung.
“So this is how Marak has been moving around so swiftly,” he softly mused to himself as he reached the outside entrance to the temple at Changragar.
“Ah, favored son of the Kywara,” Ukaro called in greeting as he approached the entrance to the temple. “I had not heard that you were skulking around these parts.”
“It is not a planned trip,” Fisher replied smoothly. “Is Rykoma around?”
“I certainly hope so,” answered Ukaro. “I have come to speak with the Head Shaman of the Kywara. Have you looked in the office in the temple?”
“No,” replied Fisher. “I just arrived myself.”
Ukaro halted and stared questioningly at the Kywara spy. The shaman had just hiked up the mountain trail leading to Changragar, and he would have seen Fisher had he been on the trail.
“Do not ask,” smiled Fisher. “Let’s go see Rykoma together. I would like your input as well on a problem that I have.”
Although puzzled by Fisher’s mysterious appearance, Ukaro nodded and walked alongside the spy as they made their way to the office inside the temple. Rykoma smiled broadly as the pair entered the office.
“This has the makings of an interesting day,” greeted Rykoma. “What brings the two of you to see me?”
Ukaro immediately nodded to Fisher to proceed with his problem first.
“I need the services of a young shaman,” Fisher declared. “He must be powerful, both in magic and in endurance. He is likely to die in my service. Can you recommend anyone?”
“You do not ask for much,” Rykoma replied sarcastically. “Why must he be young?”
“I do not want him to have taken the rites that change his physical features,” answered Fisher. “I want someone who can blend in.”
“You want an expendable spy?” frowned Ukaro. “Is this something that the Torak has requested?”
“No,” answered Fisher. “In fact, I think the Torak would frown upon my asking for one.”
“Yet you expect us to look favorably upon your request?” retorted Rykoma. “It is not the Chula way to throw life away. Life is sacred and to be cherished.”
“You should not ask others to do what you would not do yourself,” added Ukaro. “I am disappointed in you, Fisher.”
“I would prefer to go myself,” replied Fisher, “but the Torak has forbidden it.”
“Sit and explain,” Rykoma ordered as he sat down himself.
“For some time,” Fisher began, “I have had a spy on the Island of Darkness. It is not someone that I sent there, but rather one who volunteered on his own. You may know him as Aakuta or Master Malafar. In any event, he has been sending information to mages at Raven’s Point. I have been getting the information and passing it on to the Torak. During the rescue of the elven king, Aakuta’s nature may have been discovered. I fear that he will soon cease passing information to me.”
“So you want someone to go to the Island of Darkness and replace him?” asked Ukaro.
“Aakuta needs to be replaced,” nodded Fisher. “The information of the timing of their attack is vital. Without that knowledge, it is likely that we will lose the coming war.”
“And Marak has refused to let you go?” questioned Ukaro.
“He has forbidden it,” nodded Fisher. “He feels that he needs me more here. I cannot think of anyone who can possibly survive for a time on the Island of Darkness other than a Chula shaman.”
“Your request makes sense,” nodded Rykoma, “but the Chula are not well versed in the ways of the Motangans.”
“I know,” agreed Fisher. “I have heard the tales of Mistake and MistyTrail and their time on the Island of Darkness. I think if a shaman could survive among the mountain peaks, he might be able to remain safe.”
“He would provide little information being isolated in that way,” stated Ukaro.
“I understand,” replied Fisher. “While the information that Aakuta is sending is valuable, I would be satisfied with just the timing of the invasion. A man on the mountain peaks would be able to see Vand’s fleet as it readied to depart the island. Patrols seldom cross the peaks, and should that happen, there is that small cave that the girls hid in.”
“It might work,” mused Rykoma. “Calitora is very powerful for a young shaman. He is also a superb warrior, and his endurance would be excellent.”
“He is also reckless,” warned Ukaro. “Perhaps a better choice would be someone who would be more willing to remain on the mountain peaks and not journey down to see what others are doing.”
“Entering the cities would be suicidal for someone not trained in the ways of the Motangans,” agreed Fisher. “The spy is to remain on the mountains. I do not wish to gift the Motangans with a Chula body.”
“Not to mention the information that could be gleaned from the interrogation of a Chula shaman,” added Ukaro. “I would suggest someone with less curiosity.”
“There are no others that can match Calitora’s skills,” sighed Rykoma.
“You are not limited to only the Kywara tribe,” shrugged Ukaro. “There are other Chula tribes that have young shaman. I am sure that the Zatong can offer a replacement.”
“I have no authority over the Zatong or any other Chula tribe,” countered Rykoma. “While I can parley with them and get them to offer up one of their sons for this mission, I do not think that we can afford to waste time on this. I will send Calitora.”
“Thank you,” Fisher bowed respectfully to the Kywara shaman. “I will leave the two of you to discuss other things.”
Fisher left the office and returned to the library. He quickly slipped the hidden catch and moved into the small alcove, closing the bookshelf behind him. He walked hesitantly to the door that he had not used before. He stood before it in the dark and contemplated where it might lead. Steeling his nerves, the spy opened the door and stepped into the closet. He closed the door.
He did not know if the door had to remain closed for any period of time, so he waited a few moments before opening it again. When he stepped out of the closet, he noticed that there were now three doors, and each of them bore the mark of one of the Three who had been prophesized. He had come out of the door with the sign of the Torak upon it.
Ignoring the other two doors for the moment, Fisher moved to the spy hole and peered through it. Seeing no one in the library, Fisher flipped the latch and entered the room. He closed the bookshelf behind him. As he exited the library to see which temple he was in, several guards spotted him and immediately surrounded him, their long spears pointing at the spy’s chest.
Fisher raised his hands in surrender as the spears poked him towards the center of the corridor. Before he could open his mouth to protest, someone hit him over the head from behind. Fisher sank into darkness.
Fisher was not sure how long he had been unconscious, but he could tell that it was dark out. He groaned and felt his head for a lump as he studied the small cell that he was in. He rose to his feet and stretched his muscles as he pictured the men who had captured him. The long spears suggested the
Qubari jungle, but the men had not been dressed in loincloths. Fisher was still pondering his location when the cell door opened. The guard glared at Fisher and waved his spear for the prisoner to leave the cell.
Fisher walked slowly and deliberately out of the cell and saw that three other guards were waiting for him. The guards herded Fisher along the corridor and into a large room. That was when Fisher realized where he was.
“Fisher!” greeted Bakhai. “Welcome to Angragar.”
“Thank you, Bakhai,” smiled Fisher as the guards backed away and stood against the wall with their spears held vertically. “I guess I didn’t have the proper password?”
“We were not notified that you were using the doors,” shrugged Bakhai. “What brings you to Angragar?”
“Actually,” admitted the spy, “I just discovered the doors and was exploring where they led to. I did not realize that I would come out in Angragar. How do they work?”
“They work by the will of Kaltara,” smiled Bakhai. “I know no more than that. How did you discover the doors?”
Fisher truthfully revealed his following of Marak and his knowledge of the construction of the temple in Khadoratung. He did not mention his discussion with the Chula, as it was not pertinent to the question.
“I suggest that you return to Khadora and refrain from using the doors until you have talked to Emperor Marak,” frowned Bakhai. “I think your actions will point out the need for security around the use of the doors. They can be a liability to us as much a benefit.”
“I will return immediately,” Fisher nodded as he rose.
One of the guards stepped forward and led Fisher out of the room. He escorted the spy to the temple and into the library. The guard then turned around and walked out. Fisher thought it was odd that the guards knew about the doors, but obviously did not want to see how they were accessed. Fisher shrugged and unlatched the bookshelf. He backed into the alcove and pulled the bookshelf closed. That is when he felt the blade of a long sword rest upon his shoulder and threaten his throat. Fisher’s hands rose into the air and sighed with defeat. Hands reached out and turned the spy around so that he was facing his attackers. Suddenly, light flared to life and Fisher stared into Gunta’s face.
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