Spells of the Curtain: Court Mage

by Tim Niederriter

  “Me, an investment? You flatter me, my friend. That said, I could help you brush up on creature growth theory. I must be going.”

  Brosk shrugged his broad shoulders. He turned continued across the grass toward his pool-side dormitory.

  “As you say.”

  Edmath walked back to the path and followed it to the entrance. He opened the door and walked in. Zuria met him with a small smile. Sampheli turned away from examining the coral-textured statue of Amonos Nane. Zuria put a hand on her mother’s arm.

  “There you are, Edmath,” she said. “We looked all over for you.”

  Edmath shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I’m happy to be in some demand. I was saying goodbye to some younger students practicing late over in the training buildings. But I think I’d better turn in. The journey will begin early. How again are we traveling?”

  “We are going by levoth to Naren Peninsula, and the Imperial City.”

  “Understood. Then, I shall be able to rest on the flight.”

  Zuria shook her head and laughed, braids shaking.

  “Probably not. We go by sea, and we all know how sick that makes you, brother.”

  “Of course, of course. I shall have to rest now, in that case, in preparation for a day of suffering.”

  Edmath almost laughed at himself. Nerves made the joke less than funny.

  The idea of mocking himself for weakness bothered him at that moment. Thoughts of his station remained on his mind. His skills grew as fast as he could make them, but he would never be royal. That thought usually made him more eager to laugh at what he lacked. Not tonight.

  The prospect of leaving Chelka behind put him on edge.

  “Allow me to go rest. I will meet you tomorrow at the gates of the park.”

  Sampheli smiled.

  “Sleep well, my son. Congratulations, once again.”

  Edmath smiled and bowed to her.

  Out in the gathering night, bats chirped in their language, warning each other of the oncoming rain as they hunted insects. He might not be a royal, but no one else in Zel could hear the voices of bats because that tribe did not belong to the empire. His was a curious talent. Drops of rain began to fall as Edmath reached his dormitory for the final night’s sleep at Lexine Park.

  Edmath did not sleep well. He woke no fewer than five times to thunder in the night, though what sleep he managed was dreamless. Nothingness bothered him in the dark hours. He worried about being accepted at the Imperial Court.

  If he was to be a servant of the Saale Emperor, a man with a direct link to Lexine Park but also a direct rivalry with the High Emperor thanks to their positions, his position would be of great importance.

  Of the four emperors of Zel, only the Saale Emperor could be trained in magic. High Emperors, War Empresses, and Hearth Emperors employed Saales, but magic was forbidden to them personally, much as it was to most high royals by custom.

  Still, Edmath would have his research and he would work with his hero for the good of the Empire. Haddishal Rumenha really was a man of much skill, yet had not been born into royalty. He had crafted Orpus Strodusial’s seed when he was barely fifteen years old and graduated Lexine Park at the age of only twenty years. Two years before most students managed to complete their training. Of all the three lower Emperors he was the most prestigious, the commander and regulator of all Saales, along with his wife who held the title of Saale Hierophant.

  Years ago, Sampheli had told Edmath that Dorilia, Haddishal’s mother, was rumored to have modified Haddishal’s life structure when he was growing within her. That might well be beyond the curtain, but as he lay in the darkness, Edmath felt less and less certain of that. The rumor remained unproven and greatly in doubt by most.

  The skill of the Saale Emperor could not be doubted, however. He had personally constructed the first of a new generation of aerial levoths years ago with the help of Eagle and Moth royals. The final form of the creature was the most beautiful and useful of all the larger levoths, combining moth, eagle, and elk. The darkness made that sort of beauty seem far away.

  In the night, worry at the rigors of the challenges to come filled his mind. The other Saale colleges produced their own hopefuls. And only so many Saales could serve at court.

  Edmath rolled over and tried to sleep. He prayed to the unseen creator like the monks had taught him when he was only a few years old and hoping to make a good impression. At that training, he succeeded often.

  Sampheli had chosen to raise him. Chelka loved him. He drifted off again, not to wake until morning.

  When Edmath woke in the morning, it was to the sound of bells in the tower of the Principle Center. He had already packed his belongings for travel. He didn’t have much beyond his clothes and tools, regardless. Here and there, scattered in the midst of his luggage were the brightly polished and oddly structured stones he collected to study. It was true that magic didn’t manifest except from living creatures, but the idea of finding a new outlet, or maybe a new form of striker appealed greatly to Edmath.

  A striker made the most sense, as manipulation of matter that had once been alive was not beyond the curtain. Normally the difference between life and death allowed for greater mysticism than simple life-arts like the ones Saales performed to protect themselves or used to conjure matter from nowhere. The combined arts could alter a being to its very core, allowing trees to crawl, and levoths and other hybrids to share traits of different animals.

  The ways one could open the flow of magic were numerous and the act of striking did not always require living matter, except the constant provided by the man or woman wielding the spell. Edmath knew he would be tested greatly before he could even continue this sort of research. The stones of the earth were not alive in the same way as plants, for certain.

  Those reasons and his inexperience meant Edmath needed the good luck Brosk talked about. He knew he lacked the stamina to simply compete as a Saale Warrior as well. The Dawkun physical mages being trained by the Roshi Nation to the west were reportedly able to perform incredible feats of speed and skill over and over again, for days without rest.

  They might just be rumors, but something told Edmath they were true. No Saale would dare go too long without resting and try to fight with a spell because even one second of weaker life force would be dangerous when combined with the sickness that came from using magic to kill. Some Saales had killed and continued their careers, but few dared it after the last war with Roshi twenty years ago. With all that well and taken into account, the Roshi must truly have zealotry on their side in the current war without blood. A new sort of striker could help with that conflict, but Edmath would not be the one to discover it any time soon.

  Picking up his bags and the stones within them, Edmath walked to the door of his barren room and opened it. Brosk stood in the hallway, a bag slung over one shoulder and a hinged metal case dragging his other arm toward the floor.

  “You know, I considered knocking to get you up,” he said. “Come on, Ed. We could be late if we don’t hurry.”

  “We’ll be fine. Isn’t this one of your father’s ferries? A sea levoth won’t depart when the Whale Prince remains ashore.”

  “Yes, and I can catch up with them if they do.” Brosk chuckled. “I won’t have you, or anyone else, riding on my back though.”

  “No sooner than I would want to ride you.”

  Brosk gave a snort of laughter and shook his head.

  “We must go, Edmath.”

  Edmath led the way to the staircase. He took them two at a time and Brosk followed almost as quickly. They reached the doors and stepped out into the morning mist. Soon the light of the sun would burn it all away. He strode down the path with Brosk at his side. Together they reached the gates of the campus where Zuria and Sampheli waited.

  “Good morning, brother,” Zuria said. “Slept in, I see.”

  “Of course, I cannot sleep at sea, good sister. I must announce a fellow passenger, hi
s highness, Brosk Naopaor the Whale Prince of Zung.”

  Brosk bowed theatrically, his brown hair falling past his ears. He remained like that, broad shoulders angled like the axle of an uneven cart. Zuria shook her head, looking amused, but Sampheli came forward, smiling, arm extended.

  “Let me shake your hand, young prince. I have heard over the years that you have been a good friend to my son and daughter.”

  “As good as I could hope to be, and they to me.” Brosk rose from his bow and took Sampheli’s offered hand. “Now let us be on our way. A levoth may wait, but men and women become impatient with time.”

  The four of them made the way down to the water quickly. Brosk suggested a few shortcuts through the village of Lexine and they made their way to the piers before the hour turned.

  A levoth waited for them there, long and thin for a creature that was mostly whale, with a transparent dry gullet for carrying the passengers. The deck of shaped bone growing along its fishy back included ridged outgrowths for a railing. The middle-aged whale royal controller met them at the end of the pier. He nodded to Brosk, dark eyes gleaming in the shadows of his wide-brimmed straw hat.

  “There you are, my lord. This creature has been sitting idle for some time now. All but you have previously arrived.”

  “I see,” Brosk said. “I will apologize.”

  “You had a distance to come,” the controller said. “The beast needed rest. Think nothing of it.”

  They boarded the creature. Zuria and Sampheli remained on deck while Brosk and Edmath took their luggage down into the creature’s dry second stomach through a large breathing hole near the head. As they made their way to the back of the gray-walled stomach, Edmath looked at the people they passed. Most of them sat on the floor, completely used to this faster form of travel rather than wooden ships. However, one young man near the middle seemed squeamish, standing off to the side of the narrow passage with a great bag on his back. His eyes were furtive and his face pinched. He looked to Edmath both terrified and still dreading something unknown.

  “Say, Brosk, did you see anyone strange on the way back here?”

  “I don’t think so,” Brosk said. “But I wasn’t looking. Why?”

  “There is a boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen, who looks terrified, probably just to be on this ship. Don’t you think that’s strange?”

  “A little, but give it a rest, we should get back to the surface. Zuria and your mother might wonder on us, and you’ll get sick down here.”

  “Of course, you are right.” Edmath set down his bags, picked a stone out of the top one, a piece of black volcanic cliff-face, and walked back toward the whole leading to the levoth’s back.

  The creature had to travel on the surface and that meant they would all be fine to stay up top. The rain from the previous night had passed through late and left this haze, so likely they would have clear swimming. Edmath looked back to see how far Brosk was behind him. He still lagged by half the length of the beast.

  “Say, levoth,” Edmath said. “Can you hear me?”

  “I can.” The levoth’s voice croaked out of the air loudly, too loudly, but most likely not understood by anyone other than Edmath, the controller, and Brosk because it spoke in the whale tribe’s tongue.

  “Good. Be on your guard, someone might become sick down in your gullet on this trip, even if I don’t. There is a young man who doesn’t look well here.”

  “Thank you for the warning, young royal.”

  “Oh, I’m no royal. This skill of mine is less usual than that.”

  The levoth answered with a curious hum but said nothing more.

  The voice of the controller cut the air as Edmath clambered out onto the bony deck.

  “We are departing, passengers. Please respect the creature and we will all have a very calm and peaceful voyage.”

  Edmath walked along the edge of the deck and met Zuria and Sampheli by the tail, looking out over the sea to the south. The islands of Sizali were in that direction, Edmath remembered. Chelka would be leaving for them later today, and the two of them would not see each other for he did not know how long. She would be fine though. She would work harder without him, and they all needed her kind of work.

  Creatures like this levoth were one specialty of hers, though not this particular form. The Benisars were royals of the Squid Tribe and heirs to a sorrowful legacy from a hundred years past. They had fought Roshi as warriors and Saales in two great battles and were now few in number. For their continuing deeds of loyalty, Zemoy Benisar, Chelka’s father, had been made the Hearth Emperor, in particular with hopes of inspiring peace in the family’s passionate blood. Zemoy accepted that he belonged to a different age and was still trying to change.

  He and Edmath had talked on the subject a few times when the Hearth Emperor had visited Lexine Park. The nature of the Squid Tribe, and the Benisars, in particular, was hardly peaceable, but times change and thus the family must change as well. Just thinking of the massive, rough man, made Edmath surprised at how slight and smooth Chelka could be. He already missed her even more than he thought he would.

  Thinking on it made the whole situation worse. Edmath approached Zuria, raising his hand in greeting. The levoth sped out to sea, carrying them into deeper water.

  Over the course of an hour, it began angling toward the unseen but not too distant Naren Peninsula on which the capital of the Zelian Empire had been built long ago. There it remained, after generations of High Emperors, lower emperors, and Saale Hierophants.

  Edmath sat down on the deck, leaning against the bony ridge that separated him from the sea spray. Everything out at sea was the domain of the sea tribes’ royals. Saales had just as much power, but here men like Brosk could command entire pods of whales to do their will with merely a call to their spirits. And women like Chelka had legions of squids at their command. Good luck forgetting her, he told himself, especially as you don’t really want that.

  Taking the shard of black rock from his tunic’s pocket Edmath pondered the way to strike with it. Magic could be brought forth for use with a simple tool made of wood, or bone as long as one knew what creature it came from, but what kind of life could be hidden within a stone? Even among all the mysteries plumbed by the proctors at Lexine College, there was an unspoken assumption that life did not carry on in every object.

  The worm might live in the earth but that does not make the earth alive. Edmath knew the argument, and the analogy reminded him of what the monks who had raised him had told him about the father Edmath had never met. He was of the worm tribe, a man named Jurgat Donroi. Edmath wrinkled his nose at the thought of the old argument he’d had with the head of the monastery.

  “Brother, are you sick?” Zuria knelt down beside him, offering a flask of water. “You didn’t eat breakfast, did you?”

  “Never before traveling on the water, isn’t that right, sister?”

  Zuria gave a satisfied bob of her head. “You don’t sound too bad.”

  “I was just thinking. Proctor Yemon’s old lessons on striking, you know.”

  “Don’t obsess, brother. It’s no good.”

  Edmath knew though he didn’t say anything. He pushed off the deck with his hands and got to his feet. Bowing his head, he brushed the hair back down from a wind gust. He pocketed the stone.

  “Of course, of course. I really must be seeing where Brosk has gotten.”

  “He’s over there with mother.” Zuria pointed across the deck.

  Edmath nodded and started across the deck. The controller stood near the head, dark gray cloak billowing out behind him, but besides him, the four of Edmath’s party were the only people on the deck. He approached Brosk and Sampheli. The two of them turned as he drew near.

  Sampheli frowned.

  “Are you alright? You look pale, son.”

  “I feel fine. Its good spring is passing. Court will be starting soon and hopefully, we’ll be there for it.”

  Br
osk turned and looked down into the clear water a few yards down the levoth’s side.

  “Indeed. I think later in summer might be a better time to arrive, though.”

  Sampheli chuckled, small dark hands clinging to the bone ridge.

  “A better time to be late, I suppose. I think it’s good to be ahead of the Council of Kings.”

  Brosk shrugged his shoulders, muscles in his arms rippling.

  “I was just thinking about the Festival of Chesh. Its only been held irregularly, ever since the last war, so I guess I’ll be glad to be there for it at all.”

  “It is a worthy celebration. The bounty of the continent is great,” Sampheli said. “Saale have had our part in that of course, but not as much as the hands of the creator.”

  The wind brushed across Edmath’s back, easing his tension from earlier. His eyes drifted to Sampheli.

  “Of course, Mother. I feel as though our creator is with us. For if it takes a mighty Saale to bond two creatures together, think how powerful a being is who can create all those creatures from nothing, and besides the creatures, the Saales too.”

  Edmath grinned as a wave broke against the levoth’s side and sprayed water up before him. He didn’t normally spend time to think like this, but the monks had trained him well. Sampheli’s house had always been one that paid great respect to the creator. The nature of the four Saale Colleges always emphasized the Saale first and Lexine Park exemplified that perhaps the most. Leaving that place gave him a sense of freedom he had lacked before graduation.

  Sampheli smiled at him and then stifled a yawn.

  “I’m glad to hear you say that, son. If you will excuse me, I think I may go below and lie down for a while.”

  “Of course, mother. Would you like some help finding your sleeping mat?”

  “Thank you, Edmath. I would appreciate it.”

  Walking toward the air hole leading to the dry stomach, Edmath glimpsed a sky levoth gliding in the distance, red-feathered wings catching the sunlight. He wondered if that hollow bird was taking Chelka to Sizali, but it didn’t turn south, so he guessed it was going the same place as the sea levoth.