by Jake Kerr
The water was cold but refreshing. For the first time I could see the damage that I had sustained in the various attacks. There was a deep purplish bruise on my hip, and my shoulder had a scrape with bruises around it. I had various cuts and smaller bruises pretty much all over. I looked like someone had knocked me down a few times and pummeled me.
The water turned so dark with grime that I had to empty it and draw a second bath. When I was done, however, I felt better than I had since we had left the Persian Garden. I went back into the room and examined my new clothes. It was a military uniform, but unlike the one I had seen on Lord Gort. The pants were a thick canvas-like material in a khaki color and matched the shirt, which was starched and rough against the skin. The socks were thick wool and reminded me of winter back in New York. Where I would have expected epaulets or insignia were blank folds of cloth. I looked at myself in the mirror, and I looked like a raw army recruit, the folds of cloth absent any medals illustrating nothing but mere potential.
I was clean, rested, clothed, and full. I had many questions to ask, and I felt that now was the time to find the answers. I was convinced my grandfather was alive as Lord Ainsley implied, and that was my immediate goal. To find him and help save him.
In the short run, however, I looked forward to seeing Mister Ali and Naomi again. Naomi seemed to finally accept me. I wanted to compare notes with her and see if I could somehow convince her to delay her studies to help me find my grandfather.
But I pushed all these things aside when I noticed the staff lying on the bed. I had not been alone with it since my time on the boat when I thought that Mister Ali was asleep. What was I missing? Light came so naturally. Focused light, brilliant light that filled a cavernous room, soft light to guide our way in darkness—all these things came easily and naturally to me. But anything else seemed impossible. I wanted to make Naomi gasp as I destroyed our enemies with terrible bolts of magic, but that was beyond me. I was the streetlight.
I walked over, sat on the bed, and took the staff in both my hands. I closed my eyes and, instead of looking for something new, I let myself think of what I had done with the staff and what that meant. I thought of light, a magic of such difficulty that the luminescence of a candle was considered a great accomplishment by masters. Perhaps its purity was the key. But if that was the case, why was my Grandfather, clearly one of the greatest Archmages in history, completely unable to create light with the staff? I could not figure it out.
I thought about how I had freed the boat, but to my mind that was an accident. I couldn’t even remember what I did to make it happen. I thought of my assault on the river. I had not shared the experience with anyone, but it was clear to me that the staff had almost taken on a life of its own. I felt its joy at battling an equal. Had it won? I could not tell, but the magic of that moment was beyond me. It appeared that the staff did some things on its own. I twirled the cane in my hand and closed my eyes.
Mastering the staff was a challenge I could meet. It would just take time. The fact that until then I would be of little use to anyone just made me even more committed to succeeding. Further thought was interrupted by a knock on the door. I opened the door to an angry Felice.
“Why didn’t you ring the bell? They have been waiting for you!”
I shrugged but said nothing. I felt the delay had been worth it, and I didn’t want to start an argument or sound impolite by responding truthfully. My foot slipped a little on the hardwood floor near the door, and I used that as an opportunity to change the subject. “I still need shoes.”
Felice looked exasperated. “I know! Which only adds to our delay. You do realize you are to meet with Cain, don’t you? Making him wait is not advisable.”
I replied rather sheepishly, “I haven’t been told much of anything.”
Felice shook her head and walked out the door, adding, “Well, I’m afraid I can’t be of much help on that count, but I’ll do my best. We’ll have a bit of time while we get you some shoes.”
I followed her out the door and was once again struck by the enormous length of the hall. We walked to the marble steps, and my foot slid out from under me on the shiny marble. I caught myself by grabbing a decorative pillar at the top.
“Please be careful!” Felice looked annoyed again. “The last thing I need is for the Archmage to break his neck on my watch.” She slowly led me down the staircase as I gripped the balustrade.
We went through the doors that led to what I assumed was the training wing, the direction where they took Naomi. I had expected a hallway that led to rooms, but we entered a single room that took up the entire width of this wing of the building. The ceiling was at least two stories above us. There were just the standard smaller room windows in the front, and they stood at ground level and near the ceiling, which made me think that this was probably an area where a large number of rooms were removed to make space for this larger one. The décor here was decidedly more utilitarian. There were no carpets, and the floors, while still marble, were worn and dull. It was brightly lit by harsh electric lights that hung from the ceiling. The room was open and contained little furniture. Dozens of men could have gathered there without difficulty.
Directly across from us was another set of double doors, which led further down the wing, while to my left, against the far back wall was a long wooden table with a man behind it. He was moving clothes from piles on the floor onto the table. They were uniforms, much like I wore, and the man was organizing them on the table by size. As we approached, a young man came in from a small door to the right, carrying more clothing. He dropped them on the floor and was walking away as we reached the table.
“Hi, Captain. Sorry for the delay, but the Archmage is here for his shoes.”
“Ah, this is the Pehlivan’s grandson!” There was a broad smile on the man’s face, and his hands were clasped together across his chest, as if Felice had just brought him a delightful present. He was in a uniform like mine, only his was marked by shiny buttons and a number of ribbons and awards. He had stripes on his shoulder, which I assumed marked him as a captain. He was thin, as was his face, and he had a pencil-type mustache. It was the same color as his hair, which was as black as oil. He wore circular glasses that were small but looked large in the midst of his narrow features. More than anything I was struck by how little he looked like a soldier. He reminded me of the bookish boys in my school.
I felt guilty at my thoughts and decided to use courtesy as my penance. I shoved my hand forward and announced, “I’m Tommy, it’s wonderful to meet you, Captain!”
“Well, well, young man, I applaud your enthusiasm! And you look quite dashing in that uniform.”
Felice quickly cut in, “This is Captain Rechin, he is the quartermaster for the Citadel.”
Captain Rechin stood up straight and held out his arms over the various articles of clothing around him. “It is an honor to outfit our boys.” He stopped and looked at Felice. “Which reminds me, Felice. When will the recruits be coming? I’m not quite prepared for them, and I would hate to have them milling about the room when they could be doing something more useful.”
“Lord Ainsley said they won’t be here until dinner, Captain.”
“Ah, very good.” He turned back to me. “So, about your shoes.” He walked around the table and approached me from my right.
“Do you need to measure my feet? Or perhaps you would like me to get my old shoes from upstairs, they fit me quite well,” I stated, trying to be helpful. The quartermaster shook his head.
“No, no, that’s not necessary. One doesn’t outfit hundreds of young men without learning how to size shoes quickly and efficiently.” He paused and leaned down, looking at my feet. “Now you are obviously younger than our usual recruits, but you’re still a good size. He reached toward my right foot and then jerked his hand back. “No need. No need,” he muttered to himself. He walked back to his table and over to a pile of shoes. “In fact, I have the correct pair right here.”
; He turned back to me, a pair of black shiny leather boots in his hand. He walked over and made to hand them to me, but he jerked his hands back again as I reached for them. He peered at me closely through his lenses. “How do your clothes fit? Don’t lie!”
“Very well, sir,” I answered.
He then handed the shoes to me and stated, “Then these will, as well.”
I thanked him for the shoes, and not seeing a stool around, sat down on the stone floor and put my boots on. They fit perfectly. I stood up and noticed that while I was putting my shoes on the quartermaster had left.
“Where’d Captain Rechin go?” I asked Felice.
She shrugged. “He just left while you were putting your shoes on.”
“Should we go or wait for him?”
“Well, that would mean making Cain wait even longer.” She paused, and then added, “I highly recommend we leave.”
I tested the shoes—they gripped the floor well, even though it was a smooth stone—and then replied, “Okay, let’s go.”
We were halfway across the hall when the quartermaster’s voice rang out. “Wait! I am not done outfitting the Archmage!” We stopped, turned, and watched as Captain Rechin ran up to us. When he arrived he awkwardly stopped and bowed in the same motion. I didn’t have the remotest idea as to how to respond.
“I was but a young assistant when the former quartermaster outfitted the Pehlivan for his first assault on the dark magician on the continent. He lamented for weeks afterward that our arsenal had been bare of gifts to help the Pehlivan in his battle. To him it was the greatest failure he could have conceived—a quartermaster unprepared for his duty.” Captain Rechin looked intense. “Our stores do not carry the magical items they had in the past. Indeed, such items are fast disappearing from the world and we have little hope of seeing them replenished.” He then smiled and held out his hand, which was holding something. “But we do have this, which I humbly pray will be of use to you.”
I reached out and took a pair of spectacles from his hand. Captain Rechin looked at me expectantly but said nothing. They were identical to the glasses on the quartermaster’s face, and not knowing what else to do I put them on my face, even though my vision was perfect. Captain Rechin smiled as I looked around the room. Nothing looked different.
I looked at Felice, but she seemed as nonplussed as I was. I felt incredibly foolish and not a little embarrassed for the quartermaster but could think of nothing else to do, so I asked, “What… do they do?”
The quartermaster answered, “They are glasses. They sharpen your vision.” Before I could respond, he added, “You are very welcome, Archmage.” I couldn’t help but notice that we looked eerily similar with our dark hair, uniforms, and now, identical spectacles. “Wear them for your meeting with Cain,” he added, winking at me.
I nodded and gave as sincere a “thank you” as I could. We shook hands, and then Felice and I turned and continued our journey out of the hall. At the door, I looked back with the spectacles on my face, but nothing appeared out-of-the-ordinary. The quartermaster had left and the room was empty. I quickly took the lenses off and slid them into my shirt pocket, wondering if I’d ever find a use for them.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CAIN
“We are so late,” Felice said.
“Is that bad?” She briskly led me through the antechamber and into the reading room.
“You are going to meet Cain.” The tone of her voice answered the question. It sounded like she was glad I was the one meeting Cain and not her.
“Where is Mister Ali? I thought I was going to rejoin him?”
“I don’t know. I’m just supposed to take you to Cain.” She led me though the front door, and the bright light blinded me. I was tempted to put the lenses on, but they weren’t sunglasses, and I figured it would do little more than make me look strange.
I stopped. “Maybe I can ask Lord Ainsley where Mister Ali is.” I turned back to go inside when Felice grabbed my arm.
“It’s too late, and maybe he’ll be meeting you there.” She looked almost scared. “Please… I don’t want to be any later than we are.”
“Okay,” I responded, and Felice immediately took off along the large building that comprised the bulk of the Citadel. There was a lot of activity on this side of the building, with groups of men marching to and fro. They looked like they were heading in specific directions, but the layout of the Citadel was so simple that I couldn’t understand what they could be doing other than moving from one end of the building to the other. None of them seemed to be engaging in any kind of exercises or practice in the yard. In the distance I was able to regularly hear gunshots ringing out, but I couldn’t tell if the noise was coming from the other side of the wall, the other side of the building, or in some distant corner of the large courtyard that faced the building.
As I looked around the courtyard I felt a little dizzy. When I would look in one direction I would see a huge expanse of grass, but if I looked in a slightly different direction the horizon did not match with my original perception. It was all very strange, and I decided to just focus on the back of Felice’s shoulders to avoid getting a headache.
She set a brisk pace. We walked past the drive where we had been dropped off the night before and where I saw Lord Gort enter the main Citadel building with Mister Ali. We continued past the large doors that stood at the center of the building and continued on down the other wing. “Is it much farther?” I asked.
“We are going to the end of the building. Depending on how the illusions affect you, it will either be a much longer or much shorter walk than you expect,” Felice replied over her shoulder. She then added, “So for you it will be much longer than you expect.” She chuckled.
“It doesn’t look too far. I can see the end of the building and the last staircase leading up to the small door. It’s—“ I paused, figuring out the distance and our pace, “about another one or two minute walk before we get there.”
Felice laughed. “In about two minutes, we’ll be about a third of the way there.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I exclaimed. “There’s no way this building is that big!”
Felice stopped and turned to face me. “Even those who have been here for years are still figuring out the actual dimensions and nooks and crannies in this place. This building is actually three different buildings, each of immense size. What you see is a single impressive country house with two large wings. It is dramatically larger than that. And the whole grounds—“ Felice waved her arms around, “cover miles.”
She must have seen the disbelief in my face, because her look softened. She leaned toward me and continued in a conspiratorial tone. “Cain is probably the greatest illusionist in history. Much of the enchantments around the Citadel are his work. It is difficult for a master to have a static illusion sustain itself for more than a few weeks. Some of the Citadel enchantments were created by Cain years ago and are still holding.”
When I didn’t show any reaction, Felice looked angry. “Look, Tommy, I’m trying to help you! You must understand what I’m telling you. You can’t trust anything you see around here.” She waved her arms in a broad circle. “And Cain is not just a powerful magician, he knows he is a powerful magician. As a result, he doesn’t suffer fools or ineptitude gladly.”
I nodded and replied, “I understand.”
She turned and began walking, once again speaking to me without looking at me, “Good.” She took a few steps and then added, “You should fear him.” She didn’t explain what she meant, and I didn’t ask as I thought it was clear enough. At the same time I didn’t understand her comment at all. Weren’t we all on the same side? Why would I fear someone who was going to work with me to learn how to use the staff or who was going to help rescue my grandfather?
Also, deep inside me a small ember of pride, created when I discovered the greatness of my grandfather and then stoked when I was able to use the staff myself, was blown just a little brighter by Felice’
s comments. It was not accomplishment or acknowledgement this time but rather challenge and lack of respect. I knew there was much I didn’t know, but at the same time, however, I was not blind to the fact that I had already mastered making light. I may not have been able to make a great fortress look like a country estate, but I had already seen firsthand that there were things I could do that masters—and even this mysterious Cain—would never be able to do.
So as we approached what looked like a simple wooden door and my appointment with Cain, I was feeling both fear and confidence. We climbed the stone steps and entered through the door. A small entryway that looked like it could have been the side entrance to the main quarters of a large house or even the servants’ entrance greeted us. There was room perhaps for four people to stand without crowding. The floor was tightly laid brick and the walls were wood paneling, but not the elegant paneling that I saw in the reading room earlier. This was purely utilitarian, with hooks for jackets and coats and a distinct lack of decoration. To the left was a closed wooden door. Facing the entrance was a larger but still nondescript door. To the right was an entryway that took up almost the entire wall. Beyond it was a room that looked drab and grey. The floor was concrete and upon it was a number of wooden chairs. Cubbies lined one wall, but they were open and most were empty. More than anything it looked like the locker room at Andover. My attention was drawn from the room by a familiar face walking toward us from inside it.
“Master Behnam, so sorry we are late!” Felice grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the master. It was the quiet master from earlier at the train station who had created the shield. He was dressed the same as before—a black suit and bowler hat. His walking stick, however, was nowhere to be seen.
“It matters not to me. Cain may not quite agree, however. Regardless, I’ll take our new Archmage to him now. You may return to your duties, Felice.” Felice thanked him and practically sprinted back out the door. She didn’t say goodbye, and with an unspoken goodbye on my lips I turned back to the Master. “Follow me,” he said, his voice emotionless.
