The Sentient Fire (The Seven Signs)

by D. W. Hawkins

  The Convergence Chamber employed every known technique to focus and direct magic – from tangible lines and symbols to enchanted gems to the power of sound. It was all used in tandem to perform great works of magic. It was used mostly by Philosophers and Infusers, for different reasons, and its employment always required the personal approval of the Mekai himself. It, like all the areas of the Conclave, had another, unofficial name applied to it by the wizards that had called the Conclave home over the years.

  They called it the Crux. All students in the Conclave had been required to study the theory behind it at least once, and the Crux seemed a fitting name to Dormael. Some believed that the entire Conclave had been built around the Crux, and that the lines of metal that made up the actual Circle weren’t the only things that helped to focus the energies. Some wizards didn’t buy into that school of thought, but if you looked at the map of the Conclave Grounds, it was hard to discredit the theory.

  Dormael could feel the armlet’s alien song humming through the air in the hallway. It was slightly more subdued than it usually was, and Dormael imagined that it could be because the Mekai was using the Crux to contain the armlet, but in the past it had simply circumvented Dormael and D’Jenn’s magic as if it held absolutely no bearing on it. He had an odd thought that perhaps the armlet was allowing itself to be studied. A chilling thought, that, but when he pondered on the little that he and D’Jenn had actually discovered about the thing, it didn’t seem so far-fetched. He shivered a bit at the thought. That damned artifact scared the hair off of his head, sometimes.

  They reached the doorway that led into the Crux, and Lacelle reached out one pale hand to open it. She stepped back as if she were inviting them all into her home. Dormael nodded to her respectfully, and stepped into the room.

  “Dormael!” Bethany shouted, and ran to him as soon as he entered the Crux. He caught her up into a hug and raised her little body from the ground, squeezing her in relief. He felt the tension of the day rush out of him, and suddenly he felt incredibly fatigued. Her little arms were squeezing his neck until he almost choked, but he didn’t try to pry her off of him. It was the best feeling he could remember having, just knowing that she was safe.

  “Are you alright, little one? Are you hurt? What has happened? What were you doing down here?” he asked, the questions pouring from him as he set her upon the floor and began looking over her, pulling back her hair and inspecting her arms and legs. He was suddenly struck by how much he must look like a worried woman, and stopped himself before he incurred further embarrassment.

  Bethany began to speak, but clamped her mouth shut as she caught sight of Victus. He walked up and looked down at the little girl with a smile on his face. Bethany clutched Dormael’s hand and moved slightly behind him. Dormael was confused by her reaction, but it was probably just due to what had happened to her today. If Dormael were a ten year old girl being chased down a dark hallway by some strange wizard, he imagined that he’d be scared pretty badly, too. Shawna saw the exchange and stepped forward a little, subtly placing herself in a position to react if anyone went for Bethany. Dormael blessed her silently for it.

  “Hello, Bethany,” Victus said, that toothy smile painted over his wild-looking face, “My name is Victus. I need to ask you a few questions, if that’s alright.”

  Dormael felt Bethany’s hand reach up and grab his mesavia, tightening on the garment as if someone were going to reach out and try and pull her away. Dormael felt his anger bubble to the surface once again, and moved slightly in front of the little girl, placing his body between her and Victus.

  He thought he felt the armlet’s song tense suddenly, like the muscles of a predator preparing to pounce.

  “Does the interrogation have to start so quickly, Deacon?” Dormael asked, his voice a quiet challenge. Victus narrowed his eyes at Dormael, and began to speak, but Lacelle spoke up first.

  “Indeed, Victus! She’s just a little girl, let her calm down a bit and get some food before you start hammering her with questions,” her tone was as icy and haughty as it ever was when she spoke to him. Dormael saw Victus’s eyes twitch slightly in response to the comment, but he took a step back and turned an unfriendly smile on Lacelle.

  “Of course,” Victus said, “I apologize. It has been a trying day for us all.”

  “There will be no need for all of this posturing,” the Mekai said from the edge of the Circle. In all of the tumult, everyone seemed to have forgotten that he was in the room. “I will not have wizards arguing like children in my very presence. And please, Blademaster, there will be no need for you to draw those swords.” The Mekai’s tone was polite, as it always was, but there was an underlying threat in those words. Everyone relaxed a little as the Mekai stood and approached the group, and Shawna bowed her head to him and took her hands from the hilts of her blades.

  “Now,” he said, stopping before Dormael and Victus, “What is this about an interrogation?”

  Victus looked to Dormael, and unreadable expression on his face, then answered, “We found a body, Wise One, in the upper levels of the tunnels. He’d been killed with magic.”

  “Ah,” the Mekai said, his eyes softening a bit as he regarded Bethany, “Then it seems that the girl’s claims were indeed true.”

  “All we know as of yet is that someone was killed, and Dormael says that Bethany’s song was all over the scene. I only wanted clarification, Wise One. If there’s someone in the Conclave after the girl, then it could mean that our attempts at secrecy have been ill affective. If it was simply a more mundane occurrence…” Victus trailed off, shrugging his shoulders and allowing everyone else to think through the repercussions.

  “Why is it,” Lacelle said, “that when Dormael here tells a story about a strange presence in his dream, you stand behind his story as if his honor was made of gold, but when the girl claims that someone was chasing her, you question it?”

  That question slapped Dormael in the face. Why, indeed? Perhaps D’Jenn’s assertions that someone inside the Conclave was working against them were making him paranoid, but it was a valid point.

  Victus snorted at Lacelle’s remark, “What are you suggesting, Lacelle?”

  “That your zealousness in this matter is a bit suspicious, Victus. What else would I be suggesting?”

  “I’m only saying that we need to find out what has happened here. Is that so Gods damned suspicious? Why don’t you go study something, Lacelle, and leave these matters to those better suited to deal with them?”

  “Silence!” the Mekai hissed, his sudden anger shocking everyone into obeying his command. Dormael could feel his magic echoing his anger, as if there were waves of heat coming from his body. “I will not have the two of you bickering like children. This matter is now in my hands, and I have already investigated it while the rest of you were preparing to scream at each other like bickering politicians!”

  “Already investigated it?” Victus asked, raising an eyebrow at the Mekai. The Mekai’s normally twinkling eyes turned to Victus and bored into him, daring him to say something else. Victus took a step back, his mouth staying firmly closed.

  “Am I not the most experienced wizard in this entire compound, standing in the Crux, pumping magic into the most powerful focusing Circle in the entire world? Or is this yet another matter you’d like to challenge me on, Victus?”

  Victus’s eyes fell to the floor.

  “Yes, I used the Crux to look into the matter. The girl may have killed a man, but I discovered more than anyone has cared to see up to this point. There was another resonance among Bethany’s song up there. The deceased, whomever he was, tried to use magic on her. Tell me, why would anyone in the Conclave attempt to use their power against a child? Bethany is telling the truth. She was defending herself, and good riddance to whoever it was.”

  Victus gathered himself, and spoke into the uncomfortable silence in the wake of the Mekai’s words, “We still need to discover who it was, Wise One. If I could only ask the gir
l a few questions, I could track this problem to the root.”

  “What you will be doing is spending the next two days researching all correspondence applicable to countries who signed the Duadan Treaty, from its ratification all the way up to the Atonement Period, since you mistakenly believe that research is a fool’s job,” the Mekai responded, his eyes dangerous. Victus lowered his eyes.

  “As you say, Wise One.”

  “Of course it is. You will report to me personally at the close of each day upon what you find. You will go now.”

  Victus bowed at the neck and strode hurriedly from the room. Lacelle’s expression was intensely satisfied as she watched him go, but when she turned to the Mekai he was staring daggers at her as well.

  “You,” the Mekai said, addressing Lacelle, “will spend the next two days researching the personal writings of every Kansil that served between the years of 191 to 895. You will sit next to Victus while you do so. Perhaps the close proximity to him will help to cure you of your disdain and distrust for your comrade. You will accompany him to all meals during this time, and the two of you will make your reports to me together.”

  Lacelle looked crestfallen and surprised to have been included in the punishment. Her cheeks took on a rosy pink shade and she bowed her head in shame.

  “What am I to search for, Wise One?”

  “Signs and hints of possible madness, strange dreams, and hints of any object that may have been suspected to be of a magical quality – and tell Victus to search for the same, since he forgot to ask in his fervor to start his research. And before you complain about it, I know that I am treating you two like children. The punishment reflects your actions. Now go.”

  Lacelle bowed even more stiffly than Victus had, and strode from the room like a prisoner headed for the gallows. Dormael watched her go, amazed at what he had just witnessed. Shawna was quiet, but seemed to approve of the Mekai’s actions. The Mekai took a deep breath and shook his head, then turned to Dormael.

  “I do not mean to suggest by my actions that I don’t think it’s important to discover the identity of the culprit or why he was chasing Bethany. I think that I may know something about this, and though I thought that I would never see this outcome, it seems my fears have come to pass,” the Mekai said, his expression strangely sad.

  “What do you mean, Mekai?” Dormael replied.

  “I mean that we need to talk, Dormael. Gather your companions and the armlet, and then meet me in my private study for dinner. We will discuss what needs to be done at that time.” The Mekai then shot Bethany a covert wink, and walked from the room, his steps echoing in the hall outside.

  “What was that about?” Shawna asked, stepping up beside Dormael.

  “I’m not sure,” Dormael replied, and then looked down at Bethany, who was gazing up at the armlet with a strange, entranced expression on her face. “But I don’t like it. I think that D’Jenn was right.”

  “Right about what?”

  “All is not as it seems, here. He had suspicions that there is someone here in the Conclave working against us. I think he’s right, and it sounds like the Mekai may know something about it.” Shawna gritted her teeth at Dormael’s words and looked to the door where everyone had departed. She caressed the hilt of one of her swords in a gesture that Dormael thought was probably unconscious, but it definitely echoed the creeping feeling that was beginning to take root inside of him.

  “Can’t we just find somewhere safe for once?” Shawna sighed, “Instead of constantly running from one thing or another?”

  Dormael looked at her and took in her worried expression, then moved to take her hand, dragging Bethany along behind him. He squeezed it, and gave her a fearful look that barely expressed the trepidation he was feeling.

  “I don’t think there is anywhere safe anymore, Shawna. Not even here.”

  ****

  Chapter Twenty One

  Unsanctioned Operatives

  It took over an hour for everyone to gather in the Mekai’s private study. It was a long and imposing room, but comfortable. The room was dominated by a large mahogany table, polished to gleaming by students in their First Four, and it reflected the candlelight with a somber beauty. On one end of the table implements of magic were stacked almost haphazardly; there were alchemical tools and beakers, books and scrolls, and even an Infused item or two that sat mixed up in the assorted chaos.

  The walls, like all of the walls in Conclave’s living quarters, were paneled in rosewood, and the Mekai had quite the collection of expensive paintings hung upon them. They all depicted famous scenes from Sevenlands history, from the founding of Ishamael to the siege of Sundov castle. The spaces that weren’t taken by paintings were dominated by large bookshelves, which were filled with leather bound books large and small – a veritable fortune in knowledge and coin.

  The Mekai sat at the head of the table, the opposite end from where he’d stacked his experiments, making small talk and eating amiably. Dormael and D’Jenn sat to the Mekai’s right with Bethany between them, and Allen and Shawna sat across from them, mostly listening quietly and answering friendly questions shortly. Bethany engaged the Mekai in conversation about almost anything, and he humored her with friendly replies. The two of them acted like they shared some great secret and Dormael didn’t know what to make of that.

  She even called him by his first name. That was certainly curious.

  The friendly atmosphere couldn’t cover the fact that the mood was generally somber as everyone ate. There was a dark cloud on the horizon, and Dormael didn’t know what the future held for them. Things had come so far since he’d first encountered Shawna on the road to Ferolan, and he’d had no idea what he’d been getting into at the time. Now, the place where he and D’Jenn had thought would be safe for them was compromised. They had nowhere else to go, and the only thing that they’d learned was that there were enemies all around them. With everything that had happened to him over this entire blood-drenched and trying day, he couldn’t help but feel a little hopeless as he pushed the food on his plate around in silence.

  For only the second time in his life, he had no idea what to do. The pace of events throughout the day had been so rushed that he hadn’t even had time to sit and think on what had happened with Inera. The torture, the demon…it was almost too much. Things were quiet now, as everyone ate and the Mekai and Bethany conversed idly over dinner. He felt so out of place that he had to resist the urge to get up and leave the room, lest someone see his true state of mind.

  Eventually Bethany grew sleepy, and the Mekai offered a padded bench in his study as a place for the girl to rest her head, and she passed out with the exhausted ease that only a child possesses. Dormael didn’t want to let her out of his sight, not after today, so he and D’Jenn carried the bench into the study as quietly and carefully as they could. Everyone settled back into their chairs, and the Mekai produced an aged whiskey and passed it around as everyone save Allen and Shawna packed a bowl with tobacco and lit their pipes. A few silent moments passed as everyone squared themselves for the coming conversation. Even though Dormael didn’t know what would be said, he knew it wouldn’t be good.

  “I have discovered the identity of the dead man in the tunnel,” the Mekai started with, and Dormael and D’Jenn’s relaxed posture grew more intent. The Mekai squinted at the ceiling, watching the bluish smoke as it drifted upwards and eddied slowly in the air. “Bethany had told me that she recognized him before you arrived in the Crux, Dormael.”

  “Who was it?” D’Jenn asked.

  The Mekai sighed, as if he dreaded telling them the name, “Kendall. I believe you all knew each other well. I’m sorry.”

  D’Jenn shot Dormael a look that said he’d expected this answer, and all Dormael could do was nod in return. After everything else that had happened to him today, the betrayal of a friend was a small thing. It hurt, but in the scope of everything else, it mattered little. It was just…hard for Dormael to feel anything about it for
the moment.

  “What concerns me the most,” the Mekai continued, “is who he may have been working for. I have a few suspicions, but I wanted to see what you boys thought before I made any decisions regarding the matter.”

  D’Jenn sighed, “It is hard to say, Wise One. Until today, I would have told you with the utmost certainty that Kendall was as true a wizard as there was. There is much going on here that we still don’t know, and it seems that there are enemies everywhere, especially where we do not expect them.”

  “Inera,” Dormael said, “was working for this mysterious Vilth. She admitted it to me before I was rescued.”

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that, my boy,” the Mekai said, “We have grown too comfortable in our own city, blind to threats that may be out there, believing that our reputation and the simple threat of what we can do will be enough to deter those that would hurt us. Obviously, it isn’t enough.”

  Dormael only sighed and nodded his head in reply.

  “You loved her,” the Mekai said. Dormael started at the words. He’d requested to rescue her all those years ago, but his relationship with the Mekai and even with Victus wasn’t an intensely personal one.

  “How did you know that?” Dormael asked, and the Mekai smiled in reply.

  “I’ve known you since you were a teenage boy, Dormael. I know most of the Warlocks at least a little, as there are so few of you. You were never the type to frequent one place for longer than a season, but for a couple of years you spent most of your time in Neleka between assignments. There are only so many things that will keep a man visiting the same place over and over again, and one of those is a woman. I had my suspicions, and the look on your face today only confirmed it for me. I am sorry, my boy. I really am.”

  Dormael lowered his head and tried his best to keep tears from welling in his eyes. D’Jenn put a comforting hand his shoulder, and Allen slapped the other. Their presence steeled him a little, and he swallowed the emotions that tried to boil to the surface.