Wow, a Conductor, but not of an age one would normally expect. The young woman, who could not be more than a year or two older than Sarah, gave a slight nod of the head and for some reason Sarah felt the need to sit up and return the nod. This was clearly a person not to be trifled with.
“You were on the west coast of the island kingdom of Serinia. Scout Cree found you wounded and unconscious. She brought you here where our Maestro gave you a new right hand. What can you tell us about where you come from?” The Conductor spoke with a pleasant but firm voice. Clearly she was accustomed to getting her way and had little patience for what she probably considered to be nonsense.
“I am Scout Sarah Shareen,” she began the required response but stopped when the presence she had been feeling was suddenly outside her door.
In walked a young man who had to be nine foot nine inches tall. His dark hair was neatly trimmed and stopped short of the collar of his blue silk shirt. On his head was a golden circlet containing five topaz gems and five sapphires. The hood of his cloak was down so she could not see the number of lightning bolts at his command, but he had a diamond-bladed knife sheathed to his golden belt, and those nearly black eyes locked onto her. It seemed as if he was seeing into her soul and a few moments passed before she realized her jaw had dropped and her mouth was open. She took a breath and allowed her training to take over.
The Conductor gestured with her right hand toward the young man. “Scout Sarah Shareen of the Grand Imperial Ship, Lucia, of the Zeuthan Empire, this is the person who gave you that new right hand. You are in the presence of Sir Daniel Benhannon, Maestro of the Atlantan Guild, a Seven-bolt Accomplished.”
How could one who looked to be younger than her possibly grow to be so powerful?
Sarah’s attention flickered to the lightning bolts on the shoulders of the two Nephilim and then back to the one referred to as Maestro. In Zeutha he would probably have a golden trident on his forehead. She had no doubt he was the one who worked the miracle on her hand. “I could point to you even if you were in a crowd of Nephilim who stood ten feet tall,” she had seen a few who were that big, “and I feel as if we could almost be siblings. How can this be?”
She was proud of the way her voice held steady while questioning a person who was the Chief Conductor of the realm on this side of the ocean.
“You use the ancient term for our kind. Not many people outside of my guild know that we are Anakim and that those with ever-replenishing-and-increasing life-force energy are known as Nephilim. The way you speak, the rings you are wearing, that uniform, and admitting to being a scout for a here-to-for unheard of empire, suggest to me you may be telling the truth. If so, it has been a goal of the Department of Education and Research to discover what lies beyond the oceans, and you might have just provided at least part of the answer to that mystery,” the Maestro replied in a smooth baritone.
“We have spells that can compel you to speak the truth,” the red-headed Conductor made perfectly clear. The set of her eyes radiated irritation. Patience clearly was not one of her virtues.
“Such spells are used on captives and spies, not on guests,” the Maestro was quick to reply, and Sarah believed him.
He did not answer her question. “What you have told me is interesting, but doesn’t tell me what I want to know,” she said. “I still do not really know where I am or who you people really are and I sure as sunrise have no clue how you and I can be related.” Perhaps it was the familiarity that made her feel so bold when speaking to him.
A three dimensional image of a huge continent with a large island off the west coast suddenly appeared in the air over the bed. Sarah sprang against the headboard with her back firmly against the furnishing. No one else had moved and the boy stood giggling until the Seeker placed a hand on his shoulder.
“This is Atlantan and the island is Serinia. You were found on the west coast.” A mountain in the southern part of the continent began to glow. “You are in Mount Shantear, in the Department of Seekers, one of eight divisions that make up the Atlantan Guild,” the Chief Conductor explained. “The familiar feeling you spoke of is a side effect of the healing. Most of the people I have restored seemed to think it is a small price. I cannot make the feeling go away so it must be endured. I apologize for any inconvenience this may bring you.”
Sarah had to admit she was impressed not only by the vision instantly appearing over her head, but by his response. Never in her life did she expect a Master Musician and Chief Conductor of any land to offer her, a Nephi, an apology. “Now that I understand, the side effect is not much of an inconvenience. You spoke of price, what is this going to cost me?” she asked while holding up her hand.
He smiled. “The restoration is free of charge, so push the notion of paying me for that out of your mind.” The smile vanished and she was a little nervous over what that might mean. “It was communicated to me that you are missing some rings. Tell me what they do, how they work, and I will exercise my talent in creating objects of power toward making replacements. The price of each new ring is information.”
Should she agree? The notion of turning circumstances into an opportunity to improving her over all standing had a certain appeal, especially since it had been the driving force for most of her life.
“I was told you do not have rings of power. How can you make one for me?” Sarah wanted to know. She was still wondering how she had been transported from the far side of that island to a small room inside a large mountain. How long had she been unconscious?
“We lock the spells into amulets, which generally are made of a metal and a gemstone. The spell science is the same and the shape does not matter,” the Maestro replied.
Sarah figured, if anyone in this land could provide rings of power it would be the Chief Conductor. Her other questions could wait. She raised her left hand, showing off the five rings. “The spell activates when I focus my potential into the ring, that’s how they all work. I had five rings on my right hand so I will answer five questions, but only those I am permitted to answer.” She smiled at the thought of returning to the Lucia with one more ring than she started out with.
The Maestro nodded and held out his hand. “May I hold one of your rings?”
This could be a ploy to learn what the ring did.
She decided to give him ring number four. It was unlikely he could cause harm by making a plant grow, especially since there were none in the room. She doubted he could discover what kind of spell was locked into the topaz gemstone, and with that in mind, she removed the ring and handed it to him. Of course she was only obeying him because doing so served her own interests, not because she was the least bit intimidated at being the focus of a Chief Conductor’s attention.
He enclosed the ring in his right fist and quick as a Quetzal can gain altitude, he opened his left fist and was holding five rings identical to the one she had given him. He handed back the ring in his right hand. “To show good faith, I will potentialize the ring, and then ask my question.”
“My sixth ring allowed me to draw water from a nearby source,” she told him while wondering what type of instrument he would use to perform the Melody.
He tossed up one of the rings and caught it in his right hand. She glimpsed a flicker of light the color of the stone and then on the right side of the ring she noticed a water-drop etched into the silver. The image of the continent floating over the bed vanished and he tossed the ring to her. “Come with me,” he said.
“When you duplicated the ring, did the new ones contain the original spell?” She asked while rising from the bed. She followed him through the smaller door on the right. Inside were a sink, bathtub, and privy. Each had amulets.
“These call forth water, the topaz is for cold and the ruby is for hot, touching them both will make the water warm. In answer to your question, the spell, whatever it was, had been duplicated. I cancelled it out in all of them and moments ago locked a new one in that ring,” he replied while pointing. “Point the rin
g at the sink and focus your potential.”
She did so and a rose-colored beam of light shot from the gem and water came forth, filling the sink. She ceased the potential and was barely able to contain her delight. “I owe you an answer.”
When they went back into the bedroom he asked, “What is the Zeuthan Empire?”
Everyone on this side of the world would learn that much soon enough, so answering was not a problem. “The Zeuthan Empire was founded four thousand years ago by Zeus. He died millennia ago but his ancestors still rule from the Carnen Plateau. Zeutha has twenty-four Dukedoms and the Anakim and Drudges are ruled by the Nephilim. The continent is on the opposite side of the world from this one. You owe me another ring.”
“Very well,” the Maestro replied and tossed another ring into his right hand.
“My seventh ring creates a rope of air I can manipulate at will.” Her pulse was increasing. He really can provide me with new rings!
She heard the young Chief Conductor speaking under his breath, “Basic spell should do,” and when he was finished, on the side of the ring was etched a coil of rope. He handed it to her.
She slipped the silver ring on her finger and sent a rope out, wrapping around her boots, and drew them to her, then set the pair on the floor and released the energy flow.
“What is a Drudge?”
Sarah was surprised he would want to know something so ordinary. “They only make up the largest population of human beings,” she almost added, “everybody knows that”, but thought better of it and went on to explain, “Adults range from four feet tall to a little over six. Some rare ones can grow taller but the average is about my height. I thought everyone knew that.” The temptation to add that last little bit had been too great after all.
She knew what his next question was going to be and sure enough it came, “Are you a Drudge?” His eyes had flicked from her bare feet to the top of her head.
“I am a Nephi. My father was an Anakim and my mother a Drudge. About one in one hundred thousand births results in a Nephi. We are not considered full Nephilim even though the potential we wield is no different and we are just as capable of using the rings of power,” Sarah watched his eyes carefully, looking for any trace of disdain or hint of superiority. She found none. Instead, his eyebrows arched up questioningly.
“You mean the Tinys. I thought they died out long ago or were left behind on the world from which we were all banished,” he stated.
Ancient history was not one of her strong points, but she knew a little. “The monarchs brought Drudges with them to Zeutha,” she replied and smiled. “Until recently we thought ours to be the only landmass in the world and we the only humans. That was another answer. You owe me another ring.”
He rolled his eyes upward, but did so good-naturedly. “Very well, what does the eighth ring do?”
“The eighth ring gave me the ability to control the mind of a Dactyl. It looks like..,” she began to describe it.
“Does it look like this?” the Seeker asked and then an exact image of Rosebud appeared in miniature right in the middle of the room.
The boy ran right under it and stared up. “That is so wicked!” He was clearly in awe and Sarah fully understood the reason why. Quetzals made an impression on anyone who gazed upon them.
Instead of making a clarification, Sarah simply nodded her head. What difference did it make? Quetzal, Phodon, or Dactyl, she did not see how the man could provide a spell that could control a creature he never heard of. Those spells were uniquely under the domain of the Dukedom of Maarcia.
Surprisingly, the Maestro nodded and locked a spell in another ring. This time the etching was of a Quetzal. He extended his palm; she picked up the ring, and could not keep from commenting. “I don’t understand how you created these rings or locked in the spells. You did not use an instrument to perform the Melody and I don’t see how you can have a spell in your repertoire to control a creature that is completely alien to you.”
“I did perform the spells, although mentally,” the Chief Conductor or Maestro, whatever, replied. “The other rings worked and so will this one.”
Heat flushed through her as she contemplated the danger, she barely managed to keep from screaming. Musicians sometimes died if they played a wrong note or altered the Melody in any way. They all used instruments under carefully controlled circumstances and focused the spells into gemstones for rings, staffs, and batons. To casually cast a Melody from memory was unheard of.
“Our Maestro is a composer of Melodious spells,” the Conductor stated proudly. “How do you think he obtained a spell to grow you a new hand? Such a feat might be common where you come from, but on this continent, it was impossible until he composed the spell.”
Growing new limbs was not possible in Zeutha.
“You don’t need to be afraid. I will not hurt you,” the Maestro assured her.
It was then Sarah realized she had taken a few steps back. She only knew of two Composers, ever. “Nimrod was the original, but he came with the ancients,” she explained in a shaky voice. She could not yet stop trembling. “Three thousand years ago Gloria Van Helen was born and composed many new Melodies for the empire, but she died long, long, ago and we have had no other composers since then. Still, it is dangerous to cast spells from memory.” Back up, she wanted to leave the room, more, the mountain.
The Maestro actually waved his hand dismissively as if her warning was no big concern. “Be that as it may, tell me why you are here and I will make you the ninth ring.”
She did not see any point in having him spell more rings to control creatures the man had never seen. If the seventh one worked, well and good, but it occurred to her she could gain some rings with new spells. The rings she lost could be replaced when she returned to the Lucia, if these people actually let her go. Her mind went to the Seeker dueling against the black-cloak and suddenly she decided what to tell the Composer. “It provided a shield like what protected the Seeker, although the original must have been overwhelmed by the high level of potential she and the dark-cloak were using or it would have protected me.” Her voice had come out steady. It seemed the desire to improve her situation was greater than the fear of being injured or killed by a flawed spell being cast from memory.
The Maestro nodded as if her explanation sounded perfectly reasonable. “Tell me why the Lucia has come and I will place the spell in this ring.”
She only dared speak about part of the mission. “High Intensity Spell Surges have been washing across our continent for the last year or so and we were sent to find the source. I can feel them now. Do they have anything to do with your rivals, the black-cloaks?”
He tossed over the new ring but there was no etching on it. The Maestro must have locked in the spell while she was talking. “We are at war with the black-cloaks, the Serpent Guild, and their leader is another Composer of Melodious spells. The harmonic waves are coming from the near constant High Power spells being cast in battles all across Atlantan. I have one more question. Is the Lucia a cruise ship or a warship?”
Even though she should insist on getting the tenth ring first, something about him made her say, “A warship.”
“Scout Shareen, this is not a good time for your people to visit. This is a climate where innocent encounters can be misconstrued and become violent. I would be pleased to welcome your leaders and eventually visit Zeutha, but this truly is a bad time. Now I know why you are here and you can report to your Captain the reason for the High Intensity Spell Surges.”
Several things occurred to her at once; The Maestro was going to let her leave, Captain Lo Marzon was going to give her a new ring for solving the mystery, and she could ask the Maestro to lock a true offensive spell in the last ring. “War, well that explains the Spell Surges and what I witnessed on the beach. How long have I been here and how long will it take to get me back to where I was found?”
“It is late in the afternoon,” the Seeker answered. “I found you yesterday morning.”<
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“Ginnie will spell you to sleep and provide the transportation,” the Maestro spoke up. “You will awaken near where she found you, far enough away to prevent one of those encounters where a misunderstanding could lead to violence.”
Sarah nodded acceptance, not that she had a choice. The Lucia should be in the waters off the beach. Having the Seeker at her side upon returning to the ship might have improved her situation even more if the Captain had someone to question. The officer would not have harmed the Seeker, Sarah was fairly sure, and the information gained could have profited the empire. What she learned so far was useful; two composers with their factions had the entire continent in turmoil. What they truly needed was the kind of order and stability the Zeuthan Empire could provide. “I understand your concern. It would not be good for the encounter to descend into violence. Maestro, the last ring should allow me to cast blades of air. Obviously I am here as an observer and so did not take part in the duel. Accomplished Cree, it would have been improper for me to takes sides, especially when I did not know which side to take.”
“I completely understand,” the Seeker replied in an even tone and a face so neutral, Sarah could not determine whether or not Bright Eyes believed her.
That quickly, while she had been speaking with the Seeker, the Maestro handed her the last ring. Etched in the side was a throwing blade. “I thank you for the hand and the rings. When may I go back to my people?”
“It was the neighborly thing to do,” the Maestro said and motioned with his hand toward the Conductor, who locked eyes with the Seeker; she nodded her head, and focused on Sarah.
“Scout, we are going to step out of the room. When you are back in uniform, come out, and I will take you back to Serinia.”
To Be Victorious: The Maestro Chronicles Book 6 Page 33
