Many Hidden Rooms (Cerah of Quadar Book 2)

by S. J. Varengo

  “Only if you can keep your heart in this sphere of understanding can you move forward. This detachment will stop the chasing.”

  With a bright flash, Ma’uzzi’s “painting” was gone, and Cerah’s sight returned. So too did her connection with Tressida. She could hear the dragon repeating her name, as if she were seeking her in the darkness, but neither of them had moved. She felt Tressida’s tail touch her arm.

  “I’m here, Tress. Wait just a moment more.” As she calmed the dragon, she remained silent, waiting to hear if the spirit of Ma’uzzi had anything else to say.

  It did. As she knelt, willing herself into a dispassionate state, she heard the now familiar voice say three more words: “Execute your plan.”

  And with that, Cerah was fully released. She stood quickly and turned to Tressida. “I understand now. Quick, dear heart, bring me back to Parnasus.” Without hesitation, they again took to the sky, and Tressida flew fast toward Kal Berea.

  By the time they returned to the city, both the loading of the ships and the gathering of the wizards was going well. She spotted Dardaan from the sky and saw Parnasus standing by his side. Tressida landed near them without any prompting from her match-mate. As soon as Tress’s feet touched the ground, Cerah leapt from her back.

  “Elder, Elder! I know why we’ve been unable to locate Surok, why he’s been able to stay a step ahead of us!”

  “Tell me, girl! Don’t keep me waiting,” said the First-Elder.

  “He has been using my own hatred, both of him and of Zenk, as a beacon, as a homing device. He has seen my every movement. As my hate and anger radiated out, he feasted upon it, knowing where I was and where I intended to go. It’s so obvious to me now! How stupid I’ve been. Surok is not lightly called ‘The Anger of Pilka.’ His being is infused with the goddess’s hatred. The angrier I became, the more he was able to outmaneuver me, outsmart me.”

  “So, what will you do now to counter this?”

  “Ma’uzzi burned the hatred from my heart. I do not feel it anymore. I cannot.”

  “Then that means…” began Parnasus.

  “He will not see us coming. If we can get to Thresh without him knowing, we can be there in full force when he arrives. The Greater Spark showed me the grasslands of Sejira. I am sure that is where he will strike.”

  “I will tell Kern,” the First-Elder said. “Find Slurr. Explain this to him as well. The troops are being loaded as we speak. We should be able to strike out for Sejira in no more than two hours, perhaps slightly less.”

  Cerah raced toward the ships. “Tress, can you see him?” she asked the dragon.

  “Yes,” Tressida replied. “He is by the Marta.” Cerah spotted the familiar ship and ran to it, seeing Slurr speaking with Renton as she approached.

  “Whoa! Slow down!” he said, as she nearly tripped. He grabbed her arms, steadying her as she skidded to a stop. “What has got you so worked up?”

  Cerah panted for breath and began to relate to her husband everything that had happened since they parted. As she laid out the revelation, as well as the miraculous flushing of the hatred from her spirit, Slurr nodded his head.

  “Yes, yes!” he said. “That makes perfect sense. From the day you challenged him in Onesperus he has seemed to know everything you intended to do, and everywhere you went he had either just left or had not yet gone.”

  “I truly believe that now he will be blind to our movement. The vision seemed very clear that a portion of his forces would be led by the beast himself against Thresh.”

  Renton had been listening as Cerah spoke to Slurr. “There is a very healthy wind blowing from the southeast. We should be able to get the ships to Sejira in just over a day. We will take the passage between Oz Qanoti and Jenoobia.”

  “Excellent, Admiral. Make it so. Slurr, I expect you will sail with our friend?”

  The young man nodded. “The Admiral and I make a good team. We think very much alike, and what I fail to see is often obvious to him.”

  “That is likewise true in reverse,” said Renton. “The General has an innate gift for tactics. He has stopped me from making several mistakes.”

  Cerah smiled at the two men. “Well, I hope my presence in the sky above you won’t interfere with your brain trust,” she said.

  A moment later, Kern approached the group. “The wizards have made ready. How much longer before all the warriors are loaded, General?” he said to his friend.

  “We are almost ready to sail. The boats that were not damaged when the black ships landed have helped ferry our men and women to the sea-craft, as have our own.”

  “We weigh anchors within the hour,” said Renton.

  “Excellent,” Kern and Cerah said simultaneously.

  As the final preparations were being made, Cerah went to where the wizards were mustered, ready to climb atop their dragons. The riderless were also grouped nearby. She addressed the riders.

  “This may be our first chance to actually beat Surok to the punch. But I have had a vision of the battle to come, and it will be fierce. Do not hold back your craft. Use every offensive spell that you know. Should we encounter the demon himself, do not waste your energy attacking him. Concentrate on his minions. And be on the lookout for Zenk. I sense that he follows Surok like a timid house pet. And like a little pet, he wants to impress his master. He will be firing upon you and the warriors relentlessly.”

  Russa spoke up. “I assumed you would want to deal with the traitor yourself.”

  “I do not care who stops him, so long as he is stopped before he can further tarnish the good name of Melsa. But be wary. His heart is fully consumed by dark magic. It is his mistress now. And it has made him strong. But the darkness of one is no match for the light of many. Be wary, but not afraid.”

  A chorus of cheers erupted from the wizards. Cerah raised her hand to quiet them. “Ma’uzzi has revealed to me that my anger and hatred have been helping Surok. I have been able, with His help, to purge those emotions from my spirit. I encourage you all, to the degree that you are able, to banish them as well. Hold tightly to the light. It will keep your spirits from clouding. We shall give the demon no further advantage.”

  Yarren, standing close to Russa, said, “My flight will keep our eyes peeled for the traitor. We will concentrate on keeping him from doing any damage. If possible, we will stop him before he can fire a single bolt.”

  “Do so. But as soon as he is dealt with, focus on the ships.” She turned to Lista and Kerval, who were also standing at the head of the column of wizards. “I would have your flights direct your fire at the ships exclusively. The more we can disable or destroy in deep water, the more difficult it will be for Surok’s army to reach ours. Silestra, we now know, will easily swim ashore. But we do not know if the Silumans share their father’s ability to move fast underwater. And when we attacked the ships as they approached Kal Berea I saw many karvats drown. Aside from their great strength, they appear to have few advantages.”

  “They have certainly proven to be stupid,” said the young wizard Ewen. “I witnessed several bury their axes in the skulls of the monsters fighting beside them.”

  “They are a nuisance,” said Cerah, “but a dangerous nuisance. Should they manage to swing those axes close enough to our forces, they can kill several with a single blow. Do not underestimate them.”

  Seeing that she was finished talking, the wizards raised the right-fist salute and called out, “Hail the Chosen One.”

  To Cerah’s great surprise the cry was repeated from the decks of many of the hundreds of ships that were beginning to weigh their anchors. She turned to face them, raising the salute in their direction.

  Cerah realized that, although she saw Zenk fall in her vision, none of the wizards spoke of killing him, only stopping him. She knew the reason. No wizard who carried the Light would ever seek to harm another, even one filled by the Dark. And though she had imagined Zenk’s death many times, in many horrid manners, she was now satisfied with her brethre
n’s attitude of removing him from the battle without maltreatment.

  “Mount your match-mates,” she told the wizards. “The Army of Quadar is on the move!”

  Chapter 17

  Through the Strait of Aman

  Almost as soon as the ships left Kal Berea, things began to go badly. The sea, which had been smooth, began now to chop as the armada headed toward the Strait of Aman, which Renton had chosen for its current. The farther into the strait that they sailed, the higher the waves grew.

  On board the Marta, Slurr clutched a rail and looked at the white-capped breakers. The admiral stood beside him, peering in the same direction.

  “The Strait of Aman is wide enough that rough water should not present us with too great a problem,” Renton said.

  “While I have less than a thimble-full of the maritime experience you possess, I now know you well enough to know that you’re more concerned than you’re letting on.”

  Renton nodded. “Aye. It always concerns me when there are this many ships sailing together in rough water. It is essential that we keep them far enough apart that a rogue wave doesn’t send one careening into another.”

  Slurr looked aft at the hundreds of ships spread out behind the Marta. He was pleased to see that the many captains who had lent their crafts to the cause of the Chosen One, either willingly or through the wizards’ ample persuasion, knew to keep a healthy distance between one another. As he watched, they bobbed and shuddered in the wind which was bearing in hard from the south. It stung his eyes, causing him to turn his back.

  Clouds were darkening the sky all around them, but they were not the unnatural clouds of Surok. These were regular storm clouds. The difference did not provide Slurr with an overabundance of comfort, however. He had lived through a particularly violent storm during the voyage to Melsa. He’d lived through it…barely. It had been one of Cerah’s early demonstrations of the latent magic she possessed that had meant the difference between living and dying as he’d been pulled, not breathing, from the churning sea after diving in to save another sailor. He didn’t relish living through another tempest of its ilk.

  “Will this storm be a bad one, Adaan?” he asked.

  “They’re all bad ones, Slurr,” the seaman replied. “I do not think this will be as bad as your last taste of squall, but we were just one ship in a wide-open sea on that occasion. The presence of the armada makes even a lesser storm of great concern.”

  Above them, the wizards, in a multitude of dragon-flights, stayed near the ships. As they had already proven many times, the dragons could travel much faster than the boats, but Cerah preferred, in general, to fly over the armada. The journey to Sejira was a far shorter one than any of the previous legs of their odyssey, even briefer than had been the hop from Niliph to Oz Qanoti. There would be no need to rest the dragons, nor did she feel it necessary for them to race on ahead, as they had when moving to Kal Berea. She kept Tressida directly above the Marta.

  “The weather is becoming somewhat unpleasant,” the golden queen said to her match-mate.

  “You sound like Kern, Tress,” Cerah replied. “When I acquired my mark, he used one of his smelly poultices to draw the durra venom from my wound. I thought my head would explode as he dabbed it on, and do you know what he said to me? ‘Stings a bit, I know.’ Your calling this brewing storm ‘unpleasant weather’ sounds like a page out of his book.”

  “Kern is very wise. I shall take that as a compliment.”

  “Ha! When you met him, you called him ‘slow’!” Cerah laughed.

  “My, you’re in a nostalgic mood today,” Tressida said. She dipped quickly, knowing it would give Cerah a start in the pit of her stomach.

  “No silliness, Tress!” Cerah chided. “This is not a good time to have the others see you playing.” Still, as she spoke, Cerah reached forward and tickled the great gold dragon along her crest. It sent a shiver down Tressida’s spine.

  “Alright. Then you must behave as well. How are you doing?” she asked, suddenly serious.

  “I’m well. My spark burns warmly, but I’ve felt none of the hatred I’ve been carrying with me for so long now.”

  “That is good. This will keep you hidden from Surok as we travel.”

  Cerah nodded her head in response, but Tressida sensed something was troubling her despite her positive report. Immediately, the dragon grew concerned.

  “You say you are well, but something is nagging at you. What is it?”

  Cerah did not answer for several minutes. Tressida waited patiently, knowing that her match-mate often needed to examine her own feelings before she could properly explain them to others. Finally, she said, “I am not sure that the sensation of nothingness, for lack of a better word, that has replaced the anger is a wholly good thing. I understand that it keeps me hidden from Surok, but something is telling me that the Chosen One is not supposed to be an empty vessel. That’s how I feel; like a lovely goblet, devoid of wine.”

  “I see,” said the dragon. “And yet Ma’uzzi said only that you must put down your anger.”

  “He did. Repeatedly. I have not helmed the workings of the Greater Spark for a long time. Indeed, I know that I do not fully control it now. But since I have become familiar enough with its ways that it has allowed me to hear directly from the Creator, I’ve learned to take to heart everything he tells me. He spoke only of emptying myself. So, for now at least, that’s exactly what I’ll do.” She paused, and Tressida could tell that her mind was racing once again, working through muddy notions and unclear thoughts. “I shall do so, hoping that one day he will show me with what he would have me replace the hatred.”

  Just then, she happened to look down at the Marta and she saw Slurr and Renton signaling her to come about. Tress saw too and began to descend even before Cerah asked her to.

  “Gentlemen,” she said, as Tressida pulled up alongside the merchant vessel turned flagship. “Lovely day for a cruise.”

  Her husband laughed. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Obviously, this is going to get worse before it gets better. Perhaps you should lead the flights above the cloud cover.”

  Cerah looked up at the brewing sky and saw the multitude of dragons winging their way through it. She shook her head. “That would benefit the wizards, but it would do nothing for the army. I would rather be able to keep the ships in sight. With the dragons watching it won’t be necessary for anyone to dive into the ocean should a sailor find himself overboard. We can easily snatch someone to safety.” Slurr didn’t respond for a moment and Cerah’s brown eyes bored into his. “Do you get my meaning, General?”

  “Yes, my beloved. I understand you implicitly. I will do nothing foolish,” he said, knowing that he had repeatedly made her life hellish by doing things without second thought—things that had put his life in great peril. Part of settling into his role as General of the Army of Quadar was realizing that he needed to take in the big picture, to think about the good of the whole. This did not come naturally to him, as he had always been willing to do whatever he could, whatever he thought was needed, to help anyone. To Slurr, every warrior was indispensable, every wizard was crucial. It did not seem wrong to him to lay down his life for any one of them.

  But he also realized that, even as he must think about the many, considering the welfare of the army as an aggregation, he also had to bear in mind the needs of one in particular. It did not do Cerah any good having to constantly worry that her husband was on the verge of tossing his own life away to save a drowning sailor or a lost hunting party. She, too, had the entire army—no, the entire planet to consider. Anything he could do to lessen her stress was a greater good.

  “Very well, then,” she said, once she was satisfied that he wasn’t going to repeat his ocean heroics. “I will instruct the flights to fly at lower altitude for the duration of the storm, the better to react should they need to execute a rescue. Admiral, can we use these winds to our advantage?”

  “For now, yes,” said Renton. “Th
ey are not blowing to the degree that I have to worry about sail damage or broken masts. Should conditions deteriorate further, however, it will be necessary to take precautions.”

  “Understood. Let’s make as much progress as we can at full sail. Every hour we can trim from our travel time is an hour we can spend preparing for Surok’s attack.” With a few parting words, she and Tressida regained altitude and she flew once again alongside her teachers.

  “We are going to ride out the storm just above the ships,” she told them. “I hope no one falls into the ocean, but if it happens, we will be the ones who respond. Instruct the riders to watch for anyone who needs to be rescued.”

  “Very well,” said Kern, “although I do not relish the thought of flying through this monsoon.”

  “Monsoon?” Parnasus laughed. “Young Kern, it’s barely sprinkling.”

  Now it was Cerah’s turn to laugh. “Well, old friend, I now see where you gained your propensity for understatement!” she said to Kern. Turning to the First-Elder, she added, “I’m afraid it will take more than a sunny disposition to make this storm seem like a sprinkle, Teacher.”

  “Sunny disposition, indeed! I merely refuse to yield to circumstance. Don’t you know, Cerah? The truth always trumps the facts!” Parnasus said. “We will ride out the storm. Hopefully, we’ll not be called upon for any rescue missions, but the wizards and their match-mates are certainly up to the task.”

  It was soon clear that this would be anything but a sprinkle. With each passing hour, the intensity of the squall increased. Eventually, Renton was forced to give the order to trim the sails, lest the wind begin shredding them. Cerah was once again grateful that so many skilled captains helmed the legion of ships, as she witnessed one after another follow the admiral’s example, leaving just enough sail to enable them to maintain control of the ships’ heading, pushing painfully forward, rather than allowing the wind to toss the vessels about.