by Paul Heisel
“Ah, the sniveling rat appears,” Jerr said.
“I can help you. Let me explain.”
He brought up his fists. Lances of ice shot forth, some were the size of spears, some the size of arrows, and others the size of darts. It came at her in a horizontal storm. She maintained her position and kept her chi alive. The projectiles bounced aside, skittering off her invisible shield. She walked forward, concentrating, the hail of ice deflecting harmlessly away. Owori came to a halt. She knew if she didn’t act quickly, she would be doomed.
Frost came forth from Jerr in a spray. Her shield protected her somewhat, but the temperature in the room dropped rapidly and stole the warmth from her body. Owori advanced in a burst of speed and kicked, her magic landing a stunning blow to Jerr and rocketing him backward. It pushed him into the stairwell and shattered the ice barrier he had created. In a tumble of blue and white, he disappeared down the stairs. Owori didn’t delay, she moved forward, warmth filling her body as hot air billowed from the floor below. The stairs were covered with ice and snow, and it was slippery – she fell before coming to a stop at the landing. Jerr was getting up just as she was, and he brought his frozen fists crashing down.
“No! Stop!”
Her arm blocked one blow and it became numb. She realized she had to finish this fight or she would be dead. There was no reasoning with him. Jerr was intent on killing her, just as he had promised. Her right arm drooped, but everything else moved well. She struck him and extended her chi, and the strike shattered every piece of ice clinging to his body. She kicked the stunned Fury, harder than before, and both boot and magic landed. Jerr jerked back, this time not into ice, but into stone. A crack echoed as he hit the wall. He slid down to a sitting position, a bloody streak following. His eyes were wide. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he tried to stand up. She felt sick inside, knowing Jerr’s life had been wasted, and it was her fault. It was Kara and Pearl who had orchestrated this, gaining her trust, then sending her to defeat their enemy – who probably should have been her ally.
Owori bent down. Jerr was staring, trying to curse her. His life was slipping away.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “The Grand Master sent me. I tried to tell you! I was here to help!”
Jerr sputtered. His chin was covered with thick blood mixed with saliva. “You didn’t hold back. Good.”
“Who is going to kill the Grand Master? Who?”
Jerr exhaled for the last time and didn’t take another breath. He sat there, unmoving, dead eyes open to the living world.
She went down the rest of the stairs. Her right arm had regained feeling, but was burning now as the cold flesh became warm. It was painful. Owori winced as she walked through the bathhouse and she found the warmer air was an instant relief. Once outside, she became invisible again and made for her quarters with all haste. She had to figure out what to do. In the morning or sooner, they would find Jerr dead, murdered, with pools of water around him. His Furies would know that he had stayed behind to flush out a spy. They would know it was her. Shades! She opened her door and shut it. Strangely, a candle was burning inside her room. As she turned, she detected movement and went on the defensive. Pain shot into her arm and she whimpered.
“You’re hurt,” Pearl said. The leader of the Elites stood up, her golden robe rustling.
Owori’s emotions were mixed. She wanted so badly to trust Pearl. Her and Kara were in this together, though, training monks to create and army to take over the Accord of the Hand, and soon they would assassinate the Grand Master. She was trapped in the middle, forcibly shoved between different factions. It occurred to her that she would have to tell the truth to Pearl and then she would have to flee to Sabrin. There wasn’t enough chi left in her to fight Pearl anyway. She was at Pearl’s mercy, whether or not she told the truth. Please, please don't be involved with this.
“I killed Jerr,” Owori stated in an outrush of breath.
Pearl glided over and touched Owori’s injured arm. “Are you sure you killed him?”
Owori nodded as Pearl squeezed and pressed on her arm. “He’s in the bathhouse, on the stairs. He found me. I had to…I had to defend myself. He wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t listen to me!”
“Your arm will heal,” Pearl said, appraising the damage.
“Why are you in my room?” Owori asked.
Pearl shook her head as if removing a fog from her mind. “I’m sorry, I can’t believe you killed Jerr. He should have frozen you completely. I don't understand. What happened?”
“Kara sent me to spy on him. I was trying to listen to a secret meeting he was having and he caught me. He tried to kill me and I defended myself, I didn't want to kill him, I had to! I had to! Answer my question, why are you here? Why have you come?”
“Come with me to my quarters. We’ll be safe there.”
Owori stepped away, her injured arm drooping. “Why will I be safe there and not here?”
“I’ll explain when we get to my room. Owori, you must trust me. You are unique and what I do is to protect you. Trust me. Have I led you astray even once?”
Owori reluctantly shook her head. Pearl had been her best friend since arriving. Still, she couldn't shake the notion that Pearl and Kara were working together to bring about the end of the Accord of the Hand, to assassinate the Grand Master.
“I have to tell you…”
Pearl shushed her. “Later, when we're in my room. It is the only safe place in this monastery.” She grabbed the candle, walked to the door and opened it. After inspecting the hallway, she returned with her face full of concern. Whatever was happening was serious. Owori's head made her hesitate, yet her instincts and heart told her to go with Pearl. She didn’t know what to do or who to believe, and this appeared to be her only choice right now. Jerr was dead by her hand and she would be punished for it. By now the Furies would be looking for the missing Jerr. Time was running out. She moved forward and winced. Pearl came to her side and assisted, avoiding her injured arm and gently directing her into the hallway. They started walking, silently, but with urgency.
Kara had tricked her into spying on an ally, and now Pearl was taking her to safety. How her quarters were safe, she didn't know. She found it odd that Pearl didn’t seem to care what was said at the meeting or who the conspirators were or what the issues were, all her concerns were about her well-being. Tomorrow everything would come crashing down, and her life as she knew it would end. Owori looked at Pearl, and her head swiveled so those concerned blue eyes could stare back. There was nothing to lose now. The trap had already snapped shut. If Pearl could help her, then so be it. It certainly couldn’t get any worse, could it?
Pearl’s quarters took a half minute to get to. Once inside, Pearl barred the door with a thick board, then she directed Owori through a hidden door on the opposite side of the room. They went into a secret chamber, and Pearl directed Owori to a chair and asked her to sit. Around the room Pearl lit candles, brightening things. Although not any bigger than her own room, Owori was overwhelmed with what she saw. Covering the walls were master paintings. They were beautiful landscapes painted with painstakingly skillful strokes. There were rolling hills, craggy mountains, bountiful plains, sparkling rivers, and calm mirror-like lakes. One was of an island shore that extended out to an endless ocean or lake, white sand and light blue, clear water look astonishingly real. She could even see a school of fish. The colors and detail were remarkable, exquisite. The colors were lifelike, the technique similar to work she had seen before. She looked to Pearl. They were like the tattoos.
“These are pictures of the place I’m connected to,” Pearl said as she put a pot of water over a small fire. “I’ll make tea that will help with your arm, then we can talk about what happened.”
“The pictures, it’s not your home?”
“No, I wouldn’t call it home.” She didn’t elaborate, nod did Owori get the feeling she wanted to.
“What is this room?”
“My hiding place,�
�� Pearl said. “I have two rooms, this one no one knows about. Except you. I trust you. Anyone else who has come here I have blindfolded from the start of their journey.”
“Why?”
“I need a private place that only I have access to. The door we went through has been protected by magic. I’m the only one who can go in and out of that door without triggering the protections. Please, make yourself comfortable. We’re safe here. Gather your thoughts while I brew the tea.”
Owori stood and hovered closer to the paintings. They were gorgeous representations – whoever painted them was an accomplished artist. Each painting was signed with a cursive ‘P’, she didn’t know if that meant Pearl or another person. She figured it wasn’t Pearl, as this type of artistry didn’t fit her personality. One by one she went and looked at the paintings, studying each of them for a short time. She came to a painting of a building and stood there for a long time looking at it. It appeared to be a temple made of wood and stone. A simple straight wooden arch was at the entrance and hanging down from the top were red flags with white designs. The building looked large, a huge temple with trees and gardens around it, and it filled the picture. She shivered - she had seen this before.
“This looks familiar to me,” she said. Owori reached up to touch the painting, half expecting her finger to disappear into the canvas. The arch was familiar to her. The temple from when she was little! “I've…I've been here. Where is this place?”
Pearl didn’t answer. She poured tea into a large porcelain bowl, dumped the contents of small packet into the drink and brought it to Owori. Another bowl she presented had a gold liquid, like wine, with small translucent spheres floating in the middle. “That is a painting from a temple on an island where I lived for a time. See over here,” Pearl pointed to a painting of a shoreline looking out into the water, “that’s what it’s like to look from the shore.”
“Is it a lake or an ocean?”
“Lake,” Pearl answered. “Here, please sit. Drink. The spheres will help your healing with immediate effect and the tea will soothe your nerves. They’ll make you feel better. Down them all at once. The tea isn't too hot, but it's strong. It may not taste good, but it will soothe you.”
Owori sat down in a chair and took the first bowl in her hands. The spheres looked strange. The liquid was room temperature, so as instructed, she downed it, spheres and all. Moments later warmth spread out from her middle. Owori took the steaming bowl into her hands. Her right arm ached still and she would welcome relief from the pain. She tested the temperature of the tea by sipping and noted it had a bitter taste. While she waited for the tea to cool a bit more, the dull ache in her arm disappeared. The spheres were working. She watched as Pearl extinguished the small fire and put the tea kettle away. “Aren't you having any?”
“All at once,” Pearl said.
It was cool enough so she drank all of it, set the bowl aside, and slumped in her chair. She felt better. As she relaxed, she wondered why Pearl hadn’t queried further about her encounter with Jerr. She seemed rather calm for what had just happened.
“Why is it safer here? Because this is a secret room? Do you expect me to hide here forever?” Owori felt odd, out of touch with her body, almost as if she were hovering above and looking down. Detached was how she felt.
“I'll explain as best I can. Kara wants you to stay in Bora to work with her and her future plans. She wants you to be a person she can depend on to lead a new group of monks that use magic, like my Elites. My own opinion is I think she wants you to be her lackey. I don’t think you would join Kara so easily or willingly.”
“Kara?” Owori asked. “Lackey?” Her insides turned over and she couldn’t feel her toes or the tips of her fingers. Pearl was watching her intently. “I killed Jerr,” she blurted out.
“That's why I can’t take any chances with you,” Pearl said. “You’ll be safer with me.”
“Why am I safe? In this room? I already asked that, didn’t I? Did I?” Her arms and legs were numb now and she couldn’t move. It was poison! Pearl tricked her! Her waist became numb, then her shoulders. Her eyes drooped. “Ayyee akeeled Djurr,” she slurred.
Pearl sat on her pallet and leaned back as if nothing were happening, staring up at the ceiling. Owori watched as her own chest went up and down with each breath, her quickened breathing became shallower over time. Pearl sat up, leaned forward, propped her elbows on her knees, and cupped her face with her hands. The long blond locks fell across half of her face, concealing one eye. She made no move to pull her hair aside. She stared at Owori.
“Kara will do anything to make you remain here, so you’d continue to be a part of the monastery and do her bidding in time. She has asked me to keep you here, to consider this, but I don’t think it’s safe, and it doesn’t matter what happened tonight with Jerr. I’m sad that he is dead, but what is more important is you are unharmed.”
“Wurt?”
“You don’t belong here. This isn’t your world.”
“Durnt stunned,” Owori said, her speech slurring further. She fought hard to make her muscles move. “Un...der…stand.”
The full force of the drug-laced tea hit her and the world around her was spinning. She felt sick but euphoric, a strange combination of feelings to have at once. Pearl was a blur, twisted to her warped sight. Her whole body was numb now, including her eyeballs that seemed bulging and sticky.
“All will be explained to you. I’m sorry I had to drug you, but I didn’t think you would come willingly. It’s for your own good as well. Now that you have killed Jerr, there’s no other solution but to remove you from Bora. The Furies will seek retribution, and it’s best if you’re not here when that happens. I'm sorry.”
Owori slumped forward, sliding to her knees. She wretched once, trying to expel the tea from her body. Nothing came. She dry heaved until her numb sides became number. She was on the floor now, her body unresponsive to her will. She could see Pearl standing over her, casting candlelit shadows. She felt Pearl’s hands slip under her arms. Gently Pearl propped her up and gave her a loving kiss on the forehead.
“No matter what happens or what you may think or feel, or what people tell you, I’m a person you can trust. If we were to stay here, Kara would try to use you for her own purposes, to better Bora and her version of the Accord of the Hand. She would use you to destroy Jerr’s Furies, to thwart whatever diabolical plan they have devised to incapacitate the Accord of the Hand or assassinate the Grand Master or both. You have a greater calling. Trust me.”
The words to respond wouldn’t come. She wanted to ask, why did you have to drug me? Why should I trust you? What was Kara doing that would be for the good of the Accord of the Hand? Jerr had been trying, as far as she could tell, to set up his own monastery and was the one planning to foil a plan to assassinate the Grand Master. Jerr had uncovered Kara’s plan. She had to warn Pearl! It was Kara! Not Jerr! Kara!
“Kuuurruah,” she said, tongue thick. “Nurt Djurrrr.”
“It’s time to take you where you belong,” Pearl said. “I’m going to take you to your rightful home.”
Owori looked up. Pearl was making movements with her hands, up and down, back and forth, the same pattern she had seen Feln practice a hundred times. A jolt of magic hit her. Colors swirled around, then there was blackness and silence. A thin cord of ice went from her forehead to her groin, bypassing her body's numbness. All at once, she was hit by cooler air that caused her skin to tingle. Pearl had stopped making the hand movements. The last thing Owori felt was Pearl picking her up and carrying her into the darkness toward the temple she had seen in the painting.
Chapter 3 - Marked
It was unusual for a new Fury to arrive in the middle of the night, as the boats could not cross the treacherous lake in the dark. The creatures that lurked in the murky places beneath the surface always ventured forth when the sun went down, making travel at night perilous. No other means was available to bring the Furies to the island, though, unles
s someone could fly. The young man thought, then, it must be Pearl. Another one of her Furies had arrived from Malurrion. He didn’t understand why she had to blindfold them all the time, as it seemed like an unnecessary precaution. What could they see that was so important? It was disturbing, like they were prisoners or hostages.
Paq rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He his work clothes; heavy pants stained with paints and inks, a tight white jerkin that had no sleeves, and sturdy leather shoes that slipped easily on his feet. What time was it? Late evening? From his room he traveled down the rug-covered hallway and made a sharp right into his studio. Across the spacious room was Pearl. In the doorway she stood with an unconscious Fury in her arms. Servants came forth with candles and lanterns, those who weren't assigned to light duty grabbed a prefabricated litter from its resting place. Paq pointed without speaking a word; his people knew what to do. All at once this part of the converted temple came to life. The servants took Owori and transported her across the room in the litter, then laid her down on a padded table. Additional fat pillar candles were lit; two, three, then four. Soon the whole room was illuminated with copious light. Near the padded table were racks containing labeled vials, metal and wooden instruments that looked untouched, other non-padded tables used as staging areas, and row after row of small finger-sized containers of ink. Larger bottles of pure alcohol, stopped with corks, were nearby. There was an antiseptic odor, not of medicine, but of cleanliness. The servants departed once the place was awash with light, leaving Pearl and Paq alone.
“Why is this one drugged?” Paq asked as he did a cursory examination of Owori. He glanced at Pearl, noting she looked slightly stressed and not her normal casual, calm self.
