Mystic Flame (Beyond Ontariese 4)

by Cyndi Friberg

  “We’ll give it some thought,” Evan promised then pulled her into the swirling vortex.

  * * * * *

  Malos strolled along the grassy bank of the contemplation pool. It was hard not to grin like an idiot, but he summoned his inner discipline and maintained outward serenity. Just a few more days and control of the Conservatory would be his. He paused on the far side of the pool and looked at the palatial structure. Wide galleries wrapped around the building, creating a calm yet elegant ambiance. The interior was light and airy with few doors and even fewer restricted areas. The Conservatory promoted community, encouraged sharing and celebrated even the smallest success.

  All that was about to change.

  Within the hollowed walls of the Conservatory only the best and brightest, those with extraordinary aptitudes and abilities, were allowed to train. Not only was he a part of that revered elite, soon he would become their leader. The High Queen might consider herself the ultimate authority on Ontariese, but everyone knew true power resided with the Mystics.

  He turned from the Conservatory and stared out across Mystic Valley. Except for the visitor center and guest bungalows, the entire valley had been left untouched, undeveloped, wasted. Vee had insisted the valley remain as he had found it nearly a millennium before. Well, Vee was finally dead and progress was about to be unleashed in Mystic Valley.

  His plans for the area were grand and sweeping. He wanted far more interaction between Mystics and non-gifted people. Only by seeing Mystic powers in action could commoners truly understand how common they were. Mystics should be feared and respected, or better yet worshiped as gods.

  He forced away the fanciful thought. Maybe in centuries past he could have gotten away with utter subjugation. Unfortunately, the current age called for a subtler approach to ultimate control.

  “Master Malos! Master Malos, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  He turned at the sound of his name and watched the fresh-faced girl dash around the pool. She was a silly little sycophant, but her tendency to gossip was often useful and her innocent face encouraged everyone to trust her with their secrets. “And why have you been looking for me?”

  “Head Master Tal asked me to find you.” She smiled, her golden hair creating a halo around her face. “He wishes to speak with you.”

  A cold knot dropped into the pit of Malos’ stomach. At first glance Head Master Tal appeared to be a pacifist like his mentor, Vee, but Malos knew better. Both Vee and Tal instantaneously turned fierce and violent whenever threatened or while protecting someone they loved. Timing was imperative. Malos must maintain the appearance of a faithful follower until the very last moment.

  “And where may I find Head Master Tal?” The title grated his throat as he forced it out. The Conservatory needed change, fresh perspectives and new ideas. Tal was a mirror image of Vee, which of course was why Vee had chosen Tal as his successor. They both wanted to keep Mystics locked in the past, encumbered by separatism and political neutrality.

  “He’s in the training hall.” She bowed her head in respect and scurried away.

  Trepidation hovered over Malos like a thunder cloud. Tal was suspicious of him, had been almost from the beginning. But Tal had no proof. If he had more than doubts, Malos would be locked in the detention center awaiting a tribunal. Malos had meticulously covered his tracks every step of the way. There was no way Tal knew about Grat. Malos’ interaction with the greedy programmer began long before the current conflict. If Tal knew about the association, he would have acted long before now.

  Malos took a deep breath and calmed his emotions. This was a routine check-in nothing more.

  Still, the restlessness stayed with him as he made his way toward the training hall. Trying to anticipate Tal’s intentions was a pointless waste of energy. He needed to be centered and calm as he faced his enemy.

  He crossed the gallery and entered the training hall through one of three side archways. The hall was a large open space with a padded floor which minimized physical damage to the trainees as they mastered various skills. At first glance the hall seemed deserted then Tal stepped through an archway at the opposite end of the hall. Dressed in pale gray robes as befitted the head master, Tal stood tall and straight, his angular features unreadable.

  Sensing only his adversary, Malos released his pent-up breath and hurried across the room. His abilities were equal to Tal’s and his supporters grew with every passing day. So why were his hands sweating?

  “Thank you for coming.” Tal inclined his head and the rotation of his smoke-colored eyes slowed until it was no longer discernible.

  Malos tensed. The change was subtle yet telling. Tal was either preparing to shift or he’d just signaled—

  A swarm of Mystics flashed into view, surrounding Malos. Hands grasped him from every direction, sucking energy from his body with ruthless focus. “What the…” He screamed and thrashed, jerking against the restraining fingers as his muscles cramped, protesting the abrupt loss of energy. A thick alloy collar was fastened around his neck and his hands were bound in front of him. He’d never experienced the effects of a containment collar before, but he’d heard of its debilitating nature.

  “What is the meaning of this?” He glared at each Mystic in turn as they finally began to step back. Someone forced him to his knees then Tal and Mistress Alexia moved to stand in front of him. He was left with one colleague on each side and one behind him. The three held metal cables attached to the containment collar and the others stood in a semi-circle as if waiting for the show to begin. He felt like an animal, humiliated and degraded. “I demand an explanation!”

  Mistress Alexia met his gaze, but her features were as expressionless as Tal’s. She had been chosen by the other Mystics to facilitate internal tribunals. She was shrewd and perceptive—and ruthless. “Why did you send Kellan to Linusia Prime?”

  Malos suppressed a triumphant smile. Was that what this was about? He’d prepared a plausible excuse for this exact scenario. Still, he didn’t want his response to sound rehearsed. “Kellan is my apprentice. He frequently runs errands for me.”

  “That didn’t answer my question. What was the purpose for Kellan’s errand to Linusia Prime?”

  “The Linusians grow several herbs essential to my elixirs. I like to go myself to ensure the quality of the herbs, but my current schedule didn’t allow me to leave the planet.” Regardless of what Tal thought, he knew it was still Tal’s word against his.

  “And why did you meet with Grat Farlay at Sundown Tavern?”

  Dread swept over Malos, tightening his throat and clenching his belly. That was not so easily explained. How had they found out about the meeting? He’d taken every precaution to ensure… Unless it was a trap. She hadn’t asked if the meeting took place. She’d asked why, which implied the meeting was already a forgone conclusion. Clever, but not clever enough. “I do not know anyone by that name.”

  “You might not have known his name, but you spent nine minutes at a table with him inside the bar.”

  Turning his hands within the restraints, he interlaced his fingers. Calm. He had to stay calm. “You are mistaken.”

  She made a wide-arching motion with her hand and an image appeared between them. “Are you denying that this is you?” Apparently a street corner camera had captured his image as he pulled open the door to the bar. Damn it! The still shot was obviously him, but denial was his only option.

  “Someone must be wearing a holomask. I have not left the Conservatory for the past lunar cycle.”

  Tal leaned over and whispered something to Mistress Alexia. “Security scans indicate that you have left the premises on six occasions during the past lunar cycle. One period of absence corresponds exactly with the time stamp on this image.”

  He glared at Tal. “How long has the head master been spying on me? I’ve done nothing to warrant his actions.”

  “Security scans record the energy signals of everyone within the Conservatory,” Tal interjecte
d. “The logs are only accessed if someone is in danger or if they’ve been accused of a crime.”

  “Of which crime are you accusing me?” He couldn’t keep the snarl from his tone. This was not how he’d pictured the final confrontation between him and Tal. “I’m still waiting for your explanation.”

  Mistress Alexia moved forward half a step, her dark gaze bright with new interest. “The restraints are a necessary precaution because of your ability to teleport. This inquiry will determine whether or not formal charges will be filed against you. Now take me back to the night you interrupted Evan cet Roumi. What were you doing in Vee’s private office?”

  It was too soon for the final showdown. How had this all gone so horribly wrong? “I already gave a full report to Head Master Tal. Evan is the thief. Why am I being questioned?”

  Evan dissolved the invisibility shield surrounding him and Dro Tar and watched the color drain from Malos’ face. They stood at an angle from Malos, within the outer circle of Mystics, so they could see both Malos and Mistress Alexia. “My accounting of the events differs drastically from yours. Mistress Alexia is attempting to learn the truth.”

  “What is she doing here?” Malos sneered at Dro Tar. “She is certainly no Mystic.”

  “Ms. Nex is here at my request.” Tal moved forward, returning to Mistress Alexia’s side. “I felt it imperative that members of the tribunal hear her testimony live.”

  “Such testimony is supposed to be done via videocom,” Malos objected.

  “It isn’t possible to scan someone’s emotions via videocom,” Mistress Alexia countered. “Both Ms. Nex and Master Evan have agreed to being scanned while they give their testimonies.”

  “This is intolerable.” Malos raised his bound hands and jerked on one of the cords attached to his collar. “I demand that you release me.”

  “The restraints remain until the inquiry has concluded. Drop your shields and allow yourself to be scanned and this procedure will end much sooner.”

  “I was passing by Vee’s quarters when I noticed a handheld light moving about inside the office.” Malos formed each word with obvious care, yet his lips twitched and his nostrils flared. “I investigated and found Evan attempting to steal Vee’s journal. We struggled and then he teleported out with the journal. Evan is the thief, so why am I in restraints?”

  Mistress Alexia moved closer to Malos, impatience sharpening her features. “We placed someone near Vee’s work station with a handheld light. The beam is not visible from the corridor. Your account is inaccurate.”

  “He must have propped open the connecting door or something. All I know is what I saw.”

  “You reported that Evan made threats against Head Master Tal during the ensuing struggle. What exactly did Evan say?”

  Malos tensed then fixed his gaze on some point beyond Mistress Alexia. “He told me Tal wasn’t fit to lead and he was going to prove it with the journal. I attempted to wrest the journal from his hands, but he opened a vortex before I succeeded.” His tone was expressionless now, almost monotone.

  Unable to resist the temptation, Evan increased the sensitivity of his empathic receptors and allowed Malos’ emotions to flow through him. Burning anger, frustration and fear were all seething beneath his calm surface. Despite his outward serenity, Malos knew his treachery was about to be exposed.

  “Lower your shields. I wish to test the truthfulness of your claim.” Mistress Alexia stood directly in front of Malos, her hand slightly raised. She obviously expected Malos to comply.

  Evan held his breath, waiting for Malos to respond to her challenge.

  “I have done nothing wrong. I refuse to be treated like a criminal.”

  Mistress Alexia lowered her arm. “The others have agreed to be scanned. If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear.”

  “I’m being framed!” He beseeched the outer ring of Mystics, his expression pitiful. “Head Master Tal has orchestrated this entire fiasco to discredit a rival. He knows he is losing the confidence of the other Mystics so he—”

  “If you speak the truth, show us.” Mistress Alexia had clearly lost interest in Malos’ drama. “If you continue with these rash accusations without lowering your shields, I will have no alternative but to sanction an interrogator.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” His voice was low and throaty, and hatred gleamed from his eyes.

  “Lower your shields. I will not ask again.” They glared at each other for a long, strained moment then she shook her head. “Foolish choice.” She motioned toward one of the outer ring Mystics. “Take him to the detention center and summon Master Hesuto.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” The man she’d motioned toward took the lead as Malos was dragged from the training hall.

  Malos’ emotions spiked and slashed through Evan, so he quickly shielded his empathic receptors. Malos had brought this on himself. He was unworthy of pity.

  Mistress Alexia turned toward them once Malos was out of sight. “If you each record a detailed report before you leave today, it will be unnecessary for you to attend the actual tribunal.”

  “What will happen to him if he’s found guilty?” Dro Tar asked Mistress Alexia.

  “It will depend on what Hesuto is able to strip from his mind. Attempted murder and inciting rebellion against the head master are both serious charges, but neither requires the surrender of his life force.”

  “If Hesuto can prove Malos is a Rodyte spy, his life is forfeit,” Tal added with characteristic directness.

  “You will let us know what Hesuto learns?”

  “Of course.” Tal started to leave, but Dro Tar stopped him.

  “Could you check with your brother and make sure Gine is safe?”

  Tal glanced into the distance and then reported, “The boy is with Saebin and the hunter shadowing him is dead. The team attempted to apprehend him, but he refused to surrender. Apparently, Gine has an aunt whom he frequently visits. Saebin is making arrangements for the aunt to take possession of the boy.”

  “Custody, not possession.” Dro Tar smiled. “Children are not owned.”

  “As you say.” Tal glided off across the room.

  “I better check on our prisoner. Make sure he made it to the detention center.” Mistress Alexia bowed her head toward Evan and then Dro Tar. “Thank you for your cooperation. This would not have been possible without your help.”

  They acknowledged the praise with similar bows and Mistress Alexia left.

  “So where shall we go once our testimonies are recorded?” They hadn’t had time to talk about tomorrow much less make long-term plans.

  “I can’t stay here with you.” Dro Tar looked away from him, her expression carefully guarded.

  “But I can go home with you.”

  Her expressive gaze snapped back to his and hope shimmered in her eyes. “Is that what you want?”

  “It’s what I’ve always wanted,” he whispered.

  She started to speak then shook her head and sadness crept back into her eyes. “Let’s get our testimony recorded. The rest of this can wait.”

  Disappointed by her emotional retreat, he knew this was neither the time nor the place to confront her. Instead, he held out his hand and smiled. “Follow me.”

  Chapter Seven

  Dread rolled over Dro Tar as she scanned open the door to her flat. Her home was compact and unassuming, located on the sixty-ninth floor of one of Frontine’s many high-rise apartment buildings. No one would consider it luxurious, but she’d worked hard to make it uniquely hers. She pushed the door inward then held it open as Evan entered behind her. “Be it ever so humble…”

  He clasped his hands in front of him, the pose surprisingly dramatic now that his body was again shrouded in a Mystic’s robes. He looked pious and unapproachable, though still ridiculously handsome. She liked him much better in jeans and a T-shirt.

  The living room was separated from the kitchen by a half bank of cupboards, the extended countertop also serving as the main eating
area. A changeable holoprojection along the far wall created various landscapes or city scenes, according to her mood. She’d recently replaced her inflatable furniture for a matching loveseat and chair after having the couch go flat on her one too many times.

  “It’s…charming.”

  Sure it was. She wasn’t blind. It felt tiny and cluttered after the sweeping elegance of the Conservatory.

  Rather than reveal her insecurity, she asked, “Want something to drink?” Tal had ordered a sumptuous meal and insisted she and Evan enjoy it before they left the Conservatory. The entire experience had shone a glaring light on how different their lives had become.

  “Whatever you’re having is fine.”

  “This is the third apartment you’ve inhabited that was on the sixty-ninth floor. Is that coincidence or is there some significance to the number?”

  The question brought her up short halfway to the kitchen. Seriously? He didn’t know the significance of sixty-nine? She glanced over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t mocking her. He wasn’t even looking at her and as usual, his expression was unreadable.

  “Just a personal preference.”

  He strolled about the living room gazing at her movie posters. “Are these considered art on Earth?”

  She laughed and resumed her trek into the kitchen. “I don’t think too many would consider them art. They’re advertisements for entertainment vids.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She filled two glasses with blish and returned to the living room. The bright, spicy-sweet beverage was one of her favorites. It helped her relax without going too quickly to her head. “You weren’t born a Mystic, Master Evan. Didn’t you ever indulge in an entertainment simulation?”

  “Of course.” He accepted one of the glasses and took a sip.

  “Well a movie is similar to a simulation, except movies aren’t interactive. People simply watch the story unfold.”

  “And humans find this entertaining?” He sounded skeptical. “I’ve watched entertainment vids before and found them frivolous.”