The Wizard of Time Trilogy (A Fantasy Time Travel Series)

by G. L. Breedon

  Finally, when it seemed there were no more documents to sign, no more servants to upbraid, no more soldiers to punish with lashes of a whip, no more engineers to chastise for failure to complete construction of buildings on time, Kumaradevi made an announcement.

  “I am hungry,” she said, her voice imperious as ever. “How would you like to see a dragon in battle?”

  It took Gabriel a moment to realize that she spoke to him and another second to stop himself from saying what he really wanted to say and frame what he hoped was the proper response. “If it would please you, Your Grace.”

  “Then we shall see how my nations fare in the War of the Colors,” Kumaradevi said as the familiar blackness wrapped around her, Gabriel, and all of the attendants. When the whiteness bled away, Gabriel found himself standing on a hilltop overlooking a wide-open plain between a mountain range and a forest. In the valley below battled two armies, one with deep red banners, red armor, and red shields battling another army similarly colored in dark green.

  Gabriel could hear the cries of the men even from where they stood on the hilltop nearly a mile away. In the sky above, he could see four dragons clashing in combat, a man strapped to the back of each. The colors of the dragons, like the men, matched the army they defended — two crimson and two green. The beasts snapped at each other as they flew past, diving to strafe the troops of the opposing side with jets of molten hot flame. Even in his darkest dreams, Gabriel had never imagined such a scene of devastation and horror was possible.

  Disgusted, he looked away to see Kumaradevi walking toward a large tent, open on all four sides. A meal of various meats and vegetables lay on a long wooden table beneath the canvas canopy. He walked away from the edge of the hillside and joined Kumaradevi at the table. Two men joined them, one clothed in blood red armor and the other in deepest emerald green. Everyone waited until Kumaradevi had been helped into her seat by her attendants before taking their places at the table. Gabriel sat beside Kumaradevi.

  The servants quickly filled Kumaradevi’s plate. No one made a move to touch the food on the table. Gabriel kept his hands in his lap. He knew instinctively that his survival, if not the survival of everyone he cared about, would depend upon him watching and learning quickly. Kumaradevi ate in silence, smiling at those around the table as they averted their eyes. Finally, when her plates had been removed, the servants stepped forward to serve the meal, placing sliced roast beef and potatoes upon Gabriel’s plate, along with some green things that he hoped were vegetables.

  As those around the table ate, Kumaradevi allowed the two generals to boast of their strategy and what each assured her would be the imminent success of their respective army. “I certainly hope one of you is successful soon,” she said with what might have been a laugh. “I grow weary of this stalemate, and I am sorely tempted to bring the Indigo Army into the fray and force a conclusion.”

  Both generals protested that such an action, while surely her prerogative, was wholly unnecessary. Each man vowed to bring the other to heel before her next visit. She said nothing, but graced them each with a smile. Gabriel couldn’t smile. He knew these armies were slaughtering each other so Kumaradevi could link more concatenate crystals to the battlefields and weapons and increase her power.

  She smiled at the generals once more and then, without warning, she suddenly swept her arms wide and a swift billow of blackness engulfed the table. A burst of white followed and Gabriel, Pishara, and the attendants stood in what Gabriel assumed were Kumaradevi’s personal suites. A series of large rooms, one set for dining, another for sitting, another that seemed to be a library, a fourth that had a large desk in the middle of it, and another with a massive mahogany bed seemingly carved from a single piece of wood.

  Kumaradevi swept down the hallway connecting the various rooms and stepped into the writing room. Three men and three women waited for her there, standing at attention. Gabriel got the impression they had been standing in the room for a considerably long time. As he followed Kumaradevi into the room, he noticed the insignias emblazoned on the breasts of the six people standing there. Each one was different. The flame for Fire Magic, a solid red circle for Wind Magic, a tree growing out of a heart for Heart-Tree Magic, an open circle with three wavy lines inside for Earth Magic, a red eye with the center left black, to represent the pupil, for what Gabriel guessed was Soul Magic, and an infinity symbol for Time Magic. He knew who these people were, but Kumaradevi confirmed it as she turned and spoke to him.

  “These are your new tutors,” Kumaradevi said, raising her hand to indicate the six black-clad mages. “They will be instructing you in the various magics and how to use them. When you have exhausted their knowledge, I will find more knowledgeable instructors to train you.” She pointed to a tall man with the Time Magic symbol who might have been Indian or Pakistani. “This is Malik,” Kumaradevi said. “He will teach you Time Magic.” She continued around the room. The petite Thai woman, Malee, would teach him Fire Magic. Heinz, the broad shouldered German, Earth Magic. Wind Magic would be taught by the sharp faced Korean woman, Jin. Heart-Tree Magic, by the bone-thin African woman, Malawi. Finally Bob, the slightly overweight American, would teach him Soul Magic. It was like his team from the castle seen through a funhouse mirror. While none of them met Kumaradevi’s gaze, they each stared at him. It gave him an unpleasant feeling in his gut.

  “You will begin your training tomorrow in the arena,” Kumaradevi said. “It should be clean by then. You will afford each of your instructors the same courtesy you extend me. If they are unhappy with your performance, I will be unhappy with your performance, and I trust I have made it clear that my happiness is your paramount concern. Tonight you will join me for a state dinner in your honor. Now, go and change into something more befitting the occasion.” With a wave of her hand she dismissed him. Gabriel did not wait for a second dismissal.

  “Thank you, Empress,” Gabriel said as he bowed from the waist. He spun smartly on his heel and followed Pishara out the door, trailed in turn by his two bodyguards, Viktor and Seamus. The door closed behind them, though no hand touched it. As he followed Pishara down the hallway and out into the corridor beyond Kumaradevi’s apartments, he tried, as he had all day, to make a mental map of the palace. It would be important to know where things were and how to get to them if he was ever to have any hope of escaping.

  Following Pishara, he realized it would be knowledge long in coming. He was already lost, confused by the constant twists and turns of the corridors and the stairs that led up only to lead down again. The palace seemed designed to frustrate easy navigation. Gabriel did not have to wonder whether this was accidental.

  When they finally came to the spiral staircase that he knew would lead them to his tower prison, he was almost relieved. At least he had a sense of where he was. The climb up the stairs took much longer than the walk down had earlier that day. By the time they reached the top, Gabriel was well winded, although neither Pishara nor his two bodyguards seemed to be breathing heavily. The two guards still stood on either side of the door to his room. The door to the room was open, but Gabriel could see three large steel bars in brackets bolted to the wall. Each one could slide over to block the door closed. His only hope to escape from the room would have to be through the windows. He wondered how long it would take him to learn to fly and how long it would take to steal an artifact strong enough to manage it.

  As he entered the room, he saw that the large copper tub in the corner had been filled with water. Apparently, someone had drawn him a bath. He couldn’t imagine anyone bringing water up those long stairs in buckets, so there must be pipes of some sort in the palace tower. He made a mental note to try to find out where they were. Every little bit of knowledge about the palace could prove useful for an escape.

  “You will bathe,” Pishara said. “You will find a long coat in the armoire. I will return for you in one hour to escort you to dinner.” She bowed slightly before pulling the door closed as she left. He could hea
r the three steel bars swinging into place.

  Gabriel collapsed into one of the leather chairs, exhausted. Not from the climb or the day’s events, but from the emotional impact of all that he had seen and heard. He was a prisoner in an alternate world so vile and disgusting that it was hard to comprehend the magnitude of the suffering taking place every moment throughout the land, solely for the purpose of tainting more artifacts and places with negative imprints so that Kumaradevi could amass more power.

  Frustrated with himself for letting despair grip him so tightly, Gabriel got up and began to check the room again. Maybe there was something he had missed. Something he could eventually use to escape. There was a small closet hidden behind a tapestry he had missed earlier. It turned out to be a privy. Unfortunately, the stone chute that carried the waste straight down was too small to possibly fit in. He sighed as he realized he had been momentarily excited by the idea of escaping through the sewers.

  He took the opportunity to relieve the pressure in his bladder and then continued to examine the room. There was little more he had not noticed that morning. He discovered another small closet hidden behind a tapestry. It was a simple wash room with a small sink and a copper pipe that descended along the wall from the ceiling. At least he knew where the water came from. And if it came from the ceiling, then maybe the top of the tower held a water cistern that could be ruptured to create a diversion at some point. Everything was a potential component of an escape plan.

  He examined the windows again, just because it made him feel he was being thorough, but they had no hinges, and he doubted they could be opened without breaking them, which would surely bring the guards. If he could secretly get his hands on an artifact, he could overpower the guards, but where to get an artifact that would not be missed? Maybe he could steal one from one of his tutors. He sighed. Any artifact that went missing in the palace would immediately draw suspicion to him. Realizing there was nothing else he could do, he stripped off his clothes and slid into the tub.

  The water was still very warm and must have been near scalding when first poured into the copper basin. He could see a drain at the front of the tub, but did not see how the water could have been heated. Then he remembered where he was. A palace filled with mages. A bar of honey-scented soap sat on the lip of the tub, and he scrubbed himself as he mulled over the twin thoughts that consumed him: where to find an artifact, and how to escape. As he rinsed off, he remembered something that Ohin had said back at the castle. Just thinking of him and the rest of the team, how much he had grown accustomed to them, how much he had come to care for them, nearly drove the idea that had blossomed in his mind straight out of it.

  Clenching his teeth and wiping what might have been soap from his eyes, he tried to remember exactly what he had been told. An artifact could gain imprints by close proximity or use by a person taking actions that were either negative, like killing someone, or positive, like saving someone’s life. However, an artifact could also be intentionally imbued with imprints by concentrating one’s mind and will upon it. This was essentially how prayer beads became imbued with positive imprints, priests and monks praying and meditating over the beads. If he could find some innocuous object, one that no one would suspect if he carried it with him, he could intentionally imbue it with enough imprints to use as a talisman. Of course it could take years, but a least it was a plan. He would have to be cautious, however.

  While a Malignancy Mage could tell that an artifact had been imprinted from a short distance, they would have to touch it to know that it was imbued with positive imprints. It would need to be something common, but something he could keep in the open. He was almost certain his room would be regularly searched while he was away from it. However, if he found the right object, he might be able to leave it in the room while he was gone. As long as the room was not searched by a Malignancy Mage, or as long as that mage didn’t touch every object, he might get away with it. But what object?

  And if he could get out of the castle, how could he get back to the Primary Continuum? Kumaradevi had said that only a few artifacts still existed in both worlds. He would need to find out what and where at least one of them was and when he could get access to it. And then another thought occurred to him, one that made him place his hands on his head in despair. He couldn’t just leave the palace alone. If he did find a way to escape, he would have to find a way to release Nefferati, as well. If he was found missing, Kumaradevi might kill Nefferati to ensure that a rescue party from the Council could not free her. His escape could be a long time in coming. Unless he could think of something brilliant.

  A knock on the door brought him back from his reveries.

  “Are you ready?” he heard Pishara say from the other side of the door.

  “Almost,” Gabriel called out, grabbing a nearby towel and wrapping it around himself as he ran to the dresser.

  “Would you like some help dressing?” Pishara said as he heard the steel bars outside the door sliding open.

  “No,” he said, hastily drying himself with one hand has he pulled clothes from the dresser. He managed to get his pants on before Pishara entered.

  “You are tardy,” Pishara said. “We will need to walk quickly to arrive at the dinner on time. It is unwise to make the Empress wait.”

  “Right,” Gabriel said pulling on a boot. “Sorry. I dozed off in the tub.”

  “You must gain more stamina,” Pishara said. “You will need it in the coming days.”

  Pishara led Gabriel through the labyrinthine corridors of the castle to the great dining hall. An impossibly long table filled the center of the opulently decorated room. The guests for dinner were already present. Nearly a hundred men and women in black lined the table, each wearing the red insignias that denoted their status and rank as mages in Kumaradevi’s forces. Along the center of the table sat a wide variety of foods on large silver trays. A roasted boar, a large apple in its tusked mouth, roasted ducks, various vegetables, stacks of breads and cheeses, bowls of fruit, and bottles of wine. The food seemed to go on and on. An attendant showed Gabriel to his place just as Kumaradevi arrived. He waited until Kumaradevi had been seated by her attendants before taking the one remaining seat to her left.

  As at the lunch earlier that day, Kumaradevi ate first and alone. The table remained silent as her attendants sliced a piece of boar for her and cut it into small pieces. She poked at them causally with her fork, delicately placing them in her mouth and chewing with a wide smile for Gabriel. She seemed immensely pleased. That was good, Gabriel thought. The happier she is, the less she is likely to notice me.

  When she had finished eating, Kumaradevi spoke. “This meal is to consecrate a covenant between our royal person and the person of the Seventh True Mage, who is very lucky we have rescued him from his servitude at the hands of the Dark Mages of the Council of Night. Gabriel will be our servant, our first among servants, our right hand in the battle to end all battles, our sword, our shield, and our champion. With this food, we all enter into this covenant. You shall serve him, he shall serve me, and I shall serve the greater calling. Now, eat your fill, and remember that each bite symbolizes the contract that binds us together. Each sip of wine a symbol of your commitment. Your flesh is my flesh. My will is your desire. My victory shall be your victory.”

  She raised her glass and all those at the table raised theirs in response. Gabriel held his high. The men and women along the table smiled back as deeply as Kumaradevi smiled at them, but Gabriel could see a few glance at him with looks in their eyes that were anything but signs of servitude or pleasure. Kumaradevi took a long swallow of wine and placed the goblet on the table.

  “Let the feast begin,” she said in a melodious voice that echoed throughout the dining hall.

  Gabriel looked down as a servant placed a slice of roasted boar on his plate. He thought of Kumaradevi’s words and all he had seen since she had brought him to her world. He had never felt less like eating.

  Chapter 19: Lessons in
Light Darkness

  That night, after the endless dinner finally concluded and Pishara escorted him back to his rooms, Gabriel lay in bed thinking about how he could find an artifact to imbue with positive imprints. He needed to think of something that would take his mind off the horrors he had seen throughout the day. And the longer he could think about the artifact, the longer he could postpone sleep, because he knew what sort of nightmares waited for him when he closed his eyes.

  Artifacts.

  He considered the amulet at his neck, but it was already an enchanted artifact forged by a Malignancy Mage. Trying to imbue it would be unwise. Besides, he would need something that he could hide in plain sight in his chamber. It would need to be something he could be seen to hold, in case someone entered the room unexpectedly. And it would be best if they saw what they expected to see.

  Why hadn’t he thought of that? He looked around the room to see if there was something there he might use. A small pewter candleholder sat next to his bed. He could even reach his hand out to touch it with his head on the pillow. If someone came in, it would look like he had fallen asleep with his arm over the bed. He reached his hand out and placed his fingers on the base of the candleholder. It felt cool to the touch. It had a dish-like base to catch the fallen wax and a looped handle to make it easier to carry. He slid his index finger through the handle loop.