“Good night,” Jiron says from his position by the door.
“You too,” replies James as the room plunges into darkness with the vanishing of the orb. Only the glow from the crystals remains.
Crack!
Jared comes awake at the noise and quickly looks around the room. The light from the rising sun is just beginning to shine through the room’s window. Jiron is sitting on the bed next to James who is surrounded by a faint glow.
“What’s happening?” he asks as he gets to his feet. Coming over to the bed, he discovers a glowing crystal gripped in James’ right hand, another lies on the bed next to him. His other hand moves to the edge of the bed and drops a plain white crystal to the floor where it breaks into two halves.
“They’re trying to locate him,” whispers Jiron.
“Is he okay?”
“So long as the glow remains, he’s fighting them,” explains Jiron. “Keep an eye on the door, wouldn’t want anyone coming in just now.”
Moving to the door, Jared puts an ear to the door and listens. “No one’s out there,” he says.
“That’s a relief,” mutters Jiron.
“Why?” Jared asks as he returns to the bedside.
“You see, when mages work magic, others who are nearby can sense it,” Jiron explains. Gesturing to James, he says, “This has been going on for awhile and if there had been one near, they would have been here by now.”
“You mean he could attract a mage from the Empire?” he asks.
“Yes.”
They watch him as he lays there and combats those seeking him. The glowing crystal in his hand gradually loses its glow until…
Crack!
…its glow completely disappears and shatters in his hand. After dropping it on the floor with the other, he takes the remaining crystal in hand and the battle continues.
“Doesn’t look like much is happening,” comments Jared after several more minutes.
“If they knew exactly where he was, it would be more dramatic,” Jiron replies. “Now they know he’s missing and are trying to punch their way through whatever deception he’s got going.” Turning to gaze at Jared, he continues. “Think of it like there’s a pebble hidden beneath a large blanket and you have to keep poking the surface of the blanket until you discover where it is hiding. Once you locate where the pebble is, then you use all your force to tear through the blanket until you have the pebble.”
“I don’t understand,” he says.
Jiron smiles at him and says, “I didn’t either at first. But he’s explained it to me often enough that I think I get what he means.”
The glow from the crystal in James’ hand flares as the light within begins to drop dramatically. Muscles in James’ body start to twitch as he struggles against the power of those searching. His breath becomes more labored as sweat beads across his forehead.
“What should we do?” Jared asks, the sight of what’s transpiring on the bed is starting to unnerve him. Battle hardened though he is, magic is an altogether different matter and has always unsettled him.
“Wait,” replies Jiron as he grabs a cloth and begins dabbing the sweat from James’ brow.
Suddenly, another loud ‘crack’ is heard as the last crystal shatters completely. “That’s not good,” mutters Jiron.
Jared picks up James’ sack and begins to open it thinking to get him another crystal.
“Don’t!” yells Jiron as he snatches the sack from his hands. “We don’t know which ones he can use. Take out the wrong ones and you could kill us both.”
Gulping, Jared stares at the sack as if it contained live vipers.
A moan escapes from James and both turn their gaze to him. Sweat is now streaming down his face, breath coming in ragged gasps. It doesn’t look as if he’ll be able to hold on for much longer.
A cry, a massive spasming of his muscles and then he flops back down only to lie still. Whatever was going on has obviously stopped.
“Is he dead?” Jared asks in a shaky voice.
Moving closer, Jiron lays his ear to James’ chest. After a brief moment, he hears the lub-dub of his heartbeat. Glancing to Jared, he says, “He’s alive.”
Sighing, Jared comes forward. “Thank goodness,” he breathes with relief.
“Go downstairs and have them bring food and ale up to us,” Jiron tells him. “When he wakes up, he’ll be ravenous.”
“Okay,” he replies and then exits the room, closing the door behind him.
Jiron rests on the bed next to his friend, still worried about the outcome. Did they find him or not? Have to wait until James comes to before he finds out. Getting up, he moves to the window to keep an eye out.
High atop the Tower of the Magi, Kerith-Ayxt stops his impatient pacing as Aezyl, Mage of the Third Circle enters his tower. “Well?” he asks.
“He’s nowhere to be found milord,” Aezyl.
“How is that possible?” he shouts in anger.
“We do not know,” the mage replies, head bowed in submission. “Twenty slaves died in the attempt, but we were unable to find him.”
“Fools!” he cries as he moves across the room to the window overlooking the School of the Arcane. Not so much seeing as thinking, he tries to come to grips with Aezyl’s failure. A Mage of the Third Circle is no meager practitioner of the art, but someone of great power. Few ever manage to ascend from the Second, most who make the attempt fail to survive the tests.
A rogue mage on the loose, and one who is able to counter whatever they have to throw at him. Where did he come from? That’s an answer many would like to know. A number of Mages of the Fourth Circle have already fallen to him, and none of the others wish to challenge him.
The last three he sent to kill him were but Mages of the Second Circle, though each had great talent. They were promised ascension to the Third if they killed this mage, this was to be their test. He witnessed the battle which had taken their lives and couldn’t believe the relative ease with which his mages were dealt with.
Since the disastrous battle at Lythylla when their forces were completely annihilated, he’s had a mage keep a constant eye on him. It cost the life of a slave every six hours to maintain the magic necessary, but slaves he has in plenty.
Until this morning, all was going well. Then, when the sun rose over Korazan, he was gone. Black Hawk and his army were on the move along the north road, most likely heading back to Madoc. But where the mage was is anyone’s guess.
“Milord?” the Mage of the Third Circle asks.
Turning back to face Aezyl, Kerith-Ayxt says, “Convene the Assembly of Masters.”
“Yes milord,” he says with a bow. Backing from the room, he leaves to carry out his master’s command.
Once Aezyl has left the room, Kerith-Ayxt says a word of power and a wall disappears revealing a room on the other side. Moving into the room, he crosses over to the far wall where several shelves are lined with aged tomes. Removing one extremely old tome whose cover was made from the skin of a king, or so the story goes, he places it on the small table beneath the shelves.
Sitting down, he creates light with a thought and takes great care when he opens the fragile tome. Yellowed pages that have survived millenniums turn slowly under his fingers until he finds what he’s looking for.
Aekion, the Seeker. A powerful being from the plane of fire that has done the bidding of the High Lord Magus in the past, though not during the reign of Kerith-Ayxt. His predecessor had told him the tale of the last time the Seeker had been summoned centuries past to deal with a grievous threat to the Empire.
The summoning of such is not without its risks and never to be undertaken except in the direst of need. While the Assembly of Masters gathers in the Great Hall, he commits to memory the words and gestures of the spell. Even the smallest slip and the summoner will be taken as Aekion returns from whence he came.
He studies the passage until the bell tolls signifying that the Assembly of Masters have gathered in the Great Hall. Closi
ng the book, he returns it to the shelf and then leaves the room. Speaking the word of power once again, the wall materializes.
He makes his way down to the bottom of the tower and crosses the courtyard to where the Great Hall lies on the far side. The summoning of Aekion takes three days. First the Hall must be prepared to hold him. Second, the plane of fire is accessed and a way created for Aekion to pass through. Lastly, the summoning of Aekion.
Each task takes its toll from the summoner and he must rest between each. For to attempt to summon Aekion in a tired or weakened state would surely mean the death of the summoner.
Entering through the massive door, he finds the masters and those of the Fourth Circle who are about to attempt to become full masters assembled. His footsteps echo through the massive rotunda as he passes through their ranks to the center of the Hall. Coming to rest on the Sigil of Power, he turns to the assembled mages and says, “We have work to do.”
Chapter Eighteen
Regaining consciousness with one dilly of a headache, James shields his eyes from the light coming in through the window. The palm of his right hand is bandaged and aches.
“You okay?” Jiron asks as he comes forward from across the room.
James turns his head and sees him approaching. Upon the table in their room are stacked several plates of food as well as a pitcher and three mugs. “A little thirsty,” he says, his voice rasping slightly.
Jared takes one of the mugs and fills it with ale from the pitcher. Bringing it over, he hands it to him.
Taking the mug, he props himself up against the wall at the head of the bed and takes a sip. “Ahhhh,” he says after downing the entire mugful of ale. He hands the mug back to Jared and says, “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies. Filling the mug once more with ale, he hands it back to James. This time, he drinks it more slowly.
“You had us worried there for awhile,” Jiron says with a grin.
“I was too,” he admits. After taking another swallow of ale he adds, “I don’t think they found me. I couldn’t believe the power that was being used though. It was massive. If they would have narrowed their search down any further, I couldn’t have held them off.”
“Feel up to traveling?” Jared asks.
“Worried about being found out?” Jiron asks him.
“A little,” he replies. “I’ve already had several people ask about you two. One person heard you moaning.”
“What did you tell them?” asks James.
“That you’re sick,” he tells him.
“We’ll need some sort of cover story that’s believable,” he says as he thinks about it. Getting up off the bed, he wobbles over to the table where he starts in on the food.
“Eat what you want,” offers Jiron. “We already have.”
“Thanks,” he says through a mouthful of bread.
Jiron comes up with the idea of posing as merchants again but James shakes his head. “What would we use for wagons? Goods? Not to mention a letter of travel. No, we need something that will prevent anyone from asking any questions.”
“Like what?” Jared asks.
“Like this,” he says. Reaching into the pouch attached to his belt, he pulls out a necklace with a medallion attached to it. Upon the medallion are three dots forming the ends of a triangle with lines running between them, yet not touching.
Jiron recognizes the necklace James found on the body of a dead priest in the underground temple they discovered on their way back from Saragon. The symbol is that of the warrior priests who worship Dmon-Li. Nodding, he says, “That might do it.”
“What does it mean?” asks Jared as he stares at the necklace hanging from James’ hands.
“It means that I am a servant of Dmon-Li,” he says. “On business for the temple.”
“Isn’t that sort of dangerous?” he says. Then pointing to the necklace he adds, “I mean, what if the wrong person should see that.”
“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” Jiron comments.
James swallows a bite of chicken and turns to Jared. “Go down and get the horses ready. We shouldn’t tarry here too long.”
Jared glances to Jiron.
“Are you going to be able to ride?” Jiron asks. He remembers the other times when James had to be tied to the saddle after a magical effort such as he just underwent.
“I’m not feeling that bad,” he replies.
Jiron nods for him to go ahead and Jared leaves to get the horses ready.
Once Jared leaves, James holds up his bandaged hand and looks questioningly to Jiron.
“One of your crystals shattered in your hand,” he explains. “I think at the end when you began spasming was when it was cut.”
“Oh.” He finishes his meal in short order and then gets to his feet. “Shall we?” he asks.
“May as well,” Jiron replies.
They leave the room but not before giving it a once over to make sure they didn’t leave anything behind. That’s something his grandparents always instilled in him whenever they went anywhere. When the car was packed with everything from the hotel room, James was given the chore of returning one last time to check for anything left behind. Once in awhile his grandfather would leave something of James’ hidden in the room just to see if he was actually looking.
They reach the stairs and are halfway down when a man who may have been the proprietor meets them halfway up and asks a question. James feigns feeling unwell and Jiron simply shrugs as they continue on past. The proprietor continues to give them a puzzled expression even after they reached the bottom of the stairs and begin heading for the door.
“Wonder what he was trying to say?” asks Jiron as they hurry across the courtyard to the stables.
“Who knows?” responds Jiron. “Maybe just asking how you were doing.”
“Maybe,” he agrees.
At the stables they find Jared having already saddled their horses. It takes little time to secure their packs behind the saddles. Once they’re ready they waste no time in mounting and returning to the road.
When the small goat town is behind them, Jared says, “Several people asked if I had any word about what’s going on at Korazan. It appears word has already spread that something is going on there.”
“What did you tell them?” asks James.
“Just that we came the other way around the southern tip of the lake and didn’t pass by Korazan,” he explains. “And that we heard a large force had seized Korazan and were executing all the civilians.”
“Why did you tell them that?” James exclaims turning on him.
“Give them something to talk about among themselves and they won’t bother you anymore,” he relies. “It worked too.”
“Great,” sighs James.
Jiron chuckles beside him. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “By the time we’re done the tales will be spreading far and wide, none even close to the truth.”
“I suppose so,” he says with a sigh. They ride on in silence for awhile. After mulling it over, he turns to Jared and says, “From now on, stick to the truth, okay?”
Shrugging, he says, “Sure. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I know. But either stick to the facts or stay quiet,” he states. “I don’t want any more wild rumors circulating about me and my doings than can be helped.” He stares into his eyes until he nods then turns back to the road.
Just after noon, they come to a sizeable town sitting at a junction where a road running north and south crosses theirs. The town looks to be of some importance, buildings three and four stories high can be seen rising above the walls.
“Shall we go around?” Jiron asks as they approach.
“That would look suspicious,” replies James. “We’ll go through.”
Nodding, Jiron says to Jared, “You take the lead. If anyone approaches, you deal with it and remember, we are on business of the temple.”
“Right,” he says as he moves ahead of the others.
Two guards are posted at the gate through which their road runs, neither one appearing to be too interested in the people passing through. They both lean against the wall as they keep an eye on the overall area, probably there more to keep order than to watch for infiltrators.
As they approach the gate area, they’re forced to slow due to the number of people making their way through the gates. James’ heart skips a beat when one of the guards glances directly at him, but then his eyes dart to another as they pass through to the other side.
Moving through the throng on the street, they sense a definite feeling of heightened stress and anxiety from the locals. People are a little too intense in haggling and move along the street in a more hurried manner. Here and there pockets of people are seen talking, rarely does laughter spring forth.
One thing that James notices is the relative scarcity of guards. Most towns they passed through when they played the part of merchants had many guards walking the streets. Other than the two at the gate, none other has made an appearance. Wonder if they sent them all to deal with Illan? If that were the case, this whole area would be a sitting duck should an army show up.
The road takes them through the heart of the city where the larger and more impressive buildings lie. Before they pass the first large structure, guards begin to appear. Here at the heart of the city is where the highest concentration of guards lies.
Many well dressed people are upon the streets in this area leading James to believe this is the city’s government district. The affluent are seen coming and going from the impressive structures situated within this area.
Moving quickly but not so fast as to draw attention to themselves, they make it past the government district and reenter the city proper. Before the eastern gates are in sight, a caravan of a dozen or so wagons comes toward them from up the road.
Jiron motions for them to move to the side to give the caravan room to pass. As the first wagon comes abreast of where they have paused at the side of the road, he sees a small red flare coming from the underside of the second wagon. Casting a quick glance at James he finds him staring intently at the caravan as it passes.
Shades of the past ms-6 Page 25
