Eighth Fire

by Curtis, Gene

  “Mark Young, do you have anything to add?”

  “No ma’am. What she said fits exactly with what I saw, except, she blurred.”

  LeOmi turned to Mark, hand on her hips, “What?”

  “You blurred.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Mark looked at her sideways, frowned and shrugged slightly.

  There was a loud crack of a gavel striking hard on its base. “Enough.

  “Mr. Young, are you saying you witnessed her perform Maode Maharaw?”

  “I don’t know if it was that or not, but for a second she blurred, and then the guy’s hand fell off.”

  “LeOmi, how did your assailant react when you went for his hand?”

  “He didn’t have time to react.”

  “Miss Jones, I know you have the utmost confidence in your skills with a sword, but I assure you that a Magi that wears a ring indicating the skill level this one does would not have had a moment’s difficulty in defending against the move you obviously used to sever his hand. In which case, you are most fortunate to have all of your parts still firmly attached. There can be no doubt that the One True God intervened in this matter on your behalf, of which I am confident you will find time to express your gratitude.

  “It is also evident that this man’s intent was to kidnap you. Do you have any insight as to why?”

  “Kidnap me?”

  “Yes. I believe as soon as you shook his hand he would have remanifested with you.”

  “There’s no reason. The book and knife are in the museum as I requested.”

  “Then there must be another reason which we must discern. Have you had any unusual dreams of late or perhaps come across any unusual information?”

  “No ma’am. Maybe it’s revenge.”

  “If they wished revenge, they would just have killed you. For kidnapping, you have something they want. And to risk being captured, it’s something they want badly. If you can think of anything that it might be, tell Bekka or David at once. In the mean time, we’ll consult the Ummim-Thummim.”

  The door opened behind them and David came back in. He said, “Honored Council, I have further business to report.”

  Mrs. Shadowitz’s voice said, “Miss Jones and Mr. Young, you will wait outside for David.”

  Mark and LeOmi walked out and the door closed. Mark’s brother James was waiting by the door. Mark exclaimed, “Why are you here?”

  James shrugged and mumbled, “Agate Tribe.”

  “Agate Tribe? What about Agate Tribe?”

  The doors opened and David motioned, “James, you can come on in.”

  James whispered sideways as he passed Mark and LeOmi while hurrying in, “Pre-chosen.”

  A moment later the doors closed behind James and Mark said with a bit of surprise in his voice, “Pre-chosen!” He turned to LeOmi, “James was pre-chosen! That makes six of us, but why Agate Tribe?”

  LeOmi said, “We can talk about it later. We’re already late.”

  Mark and LeOmi were a full hour late for their meeting with Gerod when they walked out onto the balcony. Gerod was standing with his back to the door and his arms resting on the balcony wall. The wind was stiff enough to blow strands of his long golden hair about like wisps of a tattered flag. Two small black canvas bags were on the floor at his feet. He turned and said, “I understand you guys have had an unusual morning.”

  “You could say that.” LeOmi put her hands on her hips. “We are running a bit late.”

  Mark felt a wave of impatience wash over him and he looked disapprovingly at LeOmi. She glanced at him and shrugged as if to say ‘it slipped,’ and folded her arms in front of her.

  “This is a bit more important than touring the different sections of Magi City. Besides, you’ve already missed all of the good stuff today. If you get a chance over the next couple of days; make sure to stop by Utman’s House of Chocolate. David makes some of the most unique and delicious chocolates in the world.

  “Now, to the business at hand.” He bent, picked up the bags and handed one to each. “These are your primary emergency kits. Keep them stocked. If you use an oxy-cap, replace it. A bug bomb, replace it. A flair, replace it. If you break something, replace it. Keep this kit with you at all times, even in class. When you sleep make sure it’s in easy reach. If you get up to go to the bathroom, take it with you. At some points in your life, someone’s life will depend on what you’re able to do. Count on it. And also count on not knowing when you’ll need this kit.

  “You both will be required to take the novice rescue and first aid class as well as an accelerated communications class. Mark, last year you told me you were interested in learning communications techniques at an advanced rate. You’ll start that this year. Are you interested in trying some of the advanced rescue classes?”

  Mark nodded and said, “Yes sir.”

  “LeOmi, how about you?”

  “Sure.” She relaxed her posture a little, unfolded her arms and let them hang at her side.

  Gerod reached in his pocket and removed two small vials. “In that case, this is an anointing oil used for healing. It’s very rare. It’s made using compounds that only occur in waters occupied by leviathan; specifically the sail-back ornathoptus and the trigibbereras. Now you know why they live in the moat. One drop per person is all you’ll ever need in any situation. You put a drop on the victim’s forehead and if there’s any life left in them, they immediately fall asleep and depending on how much physical damage there is, within an hour or so anything that was damaged or diseased is healed. Sometimes it takes a bit longer. Also, putting it into Aaron’s Grasp destroys it, so keep it in your pocket and never put it with anything you might put into Aaron’s Grasp.

  “When you get your class assignments you will see a spot for you to select an elective.” He handed each a sheet of paper. “Here’s a list of advanced rescue classes. You will get one-on-one instruction from the very best instructor in whichever class you select. Look the classes over very carefully before you decide which one you’ll select.

  “Now, for my opinion. Mark, Krisa says you have a keen aptitude for tactical planning. I suggest you strongly consider either a military or law enforcement based course of study. LeOmi, your background and abilities in sword fighting and the martial arts suggest you’d be well suited to a course of study in the intelligence services, maybe even espionage.

  “That’s just my opinion based on what I know of you. You may also want to get your counselors to give you their opinions since they know you better than I do.

  “Okay, that’s it, unless you have any questions, you’re free to go.”

  Mark held the small bottle up and examined the thick liquid inside. “Why isn’t this stuff given to hospitals?”

  “That’s a complex question to answer. We have healers and rescue people at most hospitals and visit those that aren’t staffed.”

  “Then why do people die?”

  “How do you know who to rescue?”

  “I get a headache that leads me to where I need to be.”

  “How do you know you’re the one that is supposed to act?”

  “Because I’m the one with the headache.”

  “What if you don’t get a headache?”

  Mark nodded, “I get it.”

  Gerod smiled, hopped down off the wall, held his elbows out and said, “You guys ready to go?”

  Mark let go of Gerod’s arm, looked around and couldn’t visualize where he was in relation to the maps he’d seen last year. He knew where LeOmi had been dropped off in the back pasture area of The Stables since he’d been there last year. He’d also been to Magi City but had only seen a small part of it.

  About fifty yards behind him were enough auto-cars to fill a parking lot and stretched out before him was a vast plane resembling a manicured lawn for as far as the eye could see. Large white stones were evenly spaced and protruding just over an inch above the grass. A strange feeling of familiarity came to his mind, like he’d been
here before, many times. Only he hadn’t; not even in any dreams he could remember.

  Gerod said, “Kind of takes your breath away.” After a moment he pointed to a group of students some distance behind them. “Mr. Foran is over there. I’ll see you later.” Then he was gone.

  Mark walked over to the closest stone, knelt and rubbed his hand across its smooth surface. It’s got to be a tombstone. He looked closer and saw a name and number carved in its surface.

  He heard his name shouted from behind, turned and saw Chenoa running toward him. Her hair was flapping behind her and it reminded him of the first time he’d seen her and how pretty he thought her hair was. He also remembered how embarrassed he was when she realized she’d been picking up his projected thoughts about her. He stood, waved and started walking toward her.

  When they were just a few feet apart Chenoa said, “Come on, we’re leaving.”

  “Where’re we going?”

  “There’s an elevated train that goes around Magi City.”

  “I want to stay here a while. I feel like I’ve been here before. It might be important.”

  When they reached the group, Chenoa pointed to an average size man with a mustache and goatee that was talking to another student. “That’s Mr. Foran.”

  The man heard his name and turned to see who had spoken. His eyes were bright brown.

  “Mr. Foran, I’d like to stay here for a while if it’s possible.”

  “That’s a bit inconvenient. We don’t have anyone that can stay with you.”

  “Sir, there’s something about this place. I mean, it’s like I’ve been here before, but I know I haven’t.”

  “Déjà vu?”

  Someone in the crowd of students said, “Gesundheit.”

  Mr. Foran looked to where the voice had come from, grinned and said, “Donkey shin!”

  Mark smiled and when Mr. Foran turned back to him he said, “Much stronger. It’s like there’s something important here.”

  Mr. Foran nodded his head slowly. “Well, we’re coming back here on Thursday. Can it wait until then?”

  Mark nodded. “Yes sir.”

  The el trail ride was a bit boring with sixteen stops along the route. The scenery had been nice, but once you’d ridden a train through the countryside, every other train ride through the countryside was basically the same. There was just nothing new to see or do.

  Returning the auto-cars to the Engineering Section provided a surprise. The sunstone had been mounted on the top of a triangular shaped pedestal at least thirty feet tall, making the combination’s silhouette look like a giant keyhole.

  The car stopped by the power generation building. Mark got out and found Mr. Foran. “What’s going on with the sunstone?”

  Mr. Foran thought for a split second and said, “That’s right, you weren’t here this morning.

  “The scientists discovered that the writing on the back of the sunstone is only visible under a particular type of polarized, ultraviolet light. This kind of light occurs naturally during a solar eclipse. There was a diagram and some writing and based on that, this is what they did.

  “Other tests indicated that it’s some kind of machine, only nobody can figure out what powers it or what it’s supposed to do.

  “That Aztec warrior is clueless too. The Council of Elders ordered him interrogated with a fast pen and that got zilch.”

  “A fast pen?”

  “Technically, a reed of fast writing. You just make a mark and the mark transforms into a representation of whatever happens to be in your front mind at that moment. They’re very, very rare. Less than two dozen known left in existence.”

  “So they’re still trying to figure out how it works.”

  “They say it needs a power source before they can figure out anything else about it.”

  “Haven’t they tried to power it yet with something?”

  “They don’t want to take a chance on damaging it.”

  Shana walked up behind Jeremy as he sat their dinner orders on the table at their usual booth in The Oasis. Shana smiled and said, “Well Mark, tell me a little about intentions versus actions.”

  Jeremy looked puzzled and said to Shana, “Isn’t that a bit beyond his grade level?”

  Shana faced Jeremy. “Oh, you’ll find that he’s quite intuitive about a lot of things; watch.” She turned back to Mark.

  The front of Mark’s mind started to fill with anger. He felt as if he were being pushed to perform. He thought, Why are you doing this to me? He didn’t even bother to try to suppress it and knew full well everyone within fifty yards was picking up his anger and his thoughts.

  Shana tilted her head and frowned. “We don’t have to do this now. You can wait until next year for this lesson if you like, but I was just thinking it might be useful to you now.”

  Mark pulled his plate closer and stabbed a small piece of Kobe steak with his fork. “Intentions are just what you think or feel and have no physical existence. Actions are what you do. What you do has consequences. It’s that simple.” He put the steak in his mouth and started chewing the succulent morsel. “Wow, that’s good!”

  Jeremy smiled. “Yep. That’s one of my favorites.”

  “So, you’re saying intentions and actions are unrelated.” Shana raised her hands in a questioning gesture.

  “Of course they’re related.” He thought for a moment. “I can’t think of any action that anyone can do that doesn’t come from an intention.”

  Shana shrugged and tilted her head, “Snoring?”

  “Unless someone is trying to fake being asleep, snoring is an unintended consequence.”

  “Actions often don’t result in the anticipated intention; therefore there are often unintended consequences. How often do you think that happens?”

  “I don’t know; I suppose a lot.”

  “Would you be surprised if I told you it happens with every action?”

  “Like ripples on a pond.”

  Nick exclaimed, “Eureka!” He slid his plate back and pulled a laptop computer from Aaron’s Grasp. “That’s it. An electron takes every possible path to its next point of existence. Time must work the same way. Time is nodal!”

  Jeremy chuckled and both he and Shana turned to face each other in surprise. Nick started tapping away at the keyboard.

  Shana said, “That’s quite perceptive; it’s what we call destiny. Certain events are predestined to come to pass and all eventualities converge on destiny’s course at some point.”

  Nick continued typing and didn’t look up. “That’s what I said, time is nodal.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Destiny Beckons

  The auto-cars skimmed above the grass on the perimeter of the cemetery and came to a stop by a fairly large building that looked like some kind of ancient temple. A wide set of stone stairs led up to the entrance. Large columns held up the roof that covered the narrow porch around the building and the marble walls were adorned with sculptures carved in a band all around it at about head height. The entrance itself was a single narrow arch with a stone slab slid to the side.

  A counselor that Mark didn’t recognize climbed to the top of the stairs and addressed the entire group of nearly three hundred students. “In this hallowed hall you are about to enter are more than ten million names of deceased brothers and sisters inscribed on the many walls herein along with the deeds they are remembered for. It is customary to remain absolutely silent while within this monument.

  “This place was built more than three thousand years ago to honor our dead. Since from when the first Magi broke from the traditional followers of Zoroaster to follow the teachings of the One True God, we have maintained these grounds and this honored hall. Since that time we have chosen to bury our dead and honor their service at The Seventh Mountain in this place.

  “The walls in here are very close together so you may wish to keep in mind the shortest path to the exit.”

  Each group entered five minutes after the group before the
m to allow for adequate spacing between groups inside. Since Mark’s group was an add-on to Mr. Foran’s group they were the last of the twelve groups to go in.

  The walls inside were arranged like diagonal bookshelves forming narrow aisles between each floor to ceiling slab. Mark thought it would be difficult for anyone overweight to easily negotiate between the slabs.

  Each inscription appeared to be inlaid with gold leaf and the one he was looking at was in a language he couldn’t read. From what he knew of math symbols, he thought the language must be Greek or something similar except for the identifying number which was standard Arabic.

  Three floors down were the oldest inscriptions, carved around 500 BC and they looked as fresh as the scant few six floors up that had been carved within the last ten years. Mark thought it interesting to note the obvious changes in languages over the years used in carving the epitaphs. He was intensely curious as to why he could read the ones written four hundred to five hundred years ago in Spanish, and the ones written in French three hundred to four hundred years ago. He made his way up and out and found Mr. Foran waiting by the entrance.

  He walked over to him and said, “Sir, I can read Spanish and French writing and I don’t understand why.”

  Mr. Foran chuckled and answered in German. “Your counselors were supposed to tell you about that at the beginning of this year, but I see you missed that lecture. All freshmen learned three languages last year, while they slept: Spanish, French and of course, German. This year your languages will be Russian, Mandarin and Cantonese.”

  “You mean like dream casting?”

  “We call it Shawtaf Chalomee, immersion dreaming. Magi whose native tongue is the language you are learning dream cast and direct the dreams. You are immersed in a dream world where that’s the natural language. In less than three months you can read, write and speak like a native of that language.”