“Oh, they exist alright!” Zedd’aki muttered.
Ja’tar corrected, “The totems are not one and the same with the portals, although many of the portals are adjacent to the totems. The totems control the magic flow in the realm and the portals can transport you from place to place.”
Men’ak and Grit both nodded their understanding.
Ja’tar ran his finger between several totems. “These towers connect to each other to form the border shields and a grid of sorts that can lock out magic in a realm. In the larger realms, a portion of the realm can be cordoned off.”
“What’s most important is that they are also the locations of most of the travel portals. You should be able to move around fairly quickly using them. I will need to teach you how and give you the keys you will need to activate the gates.”
“How do they work?” asked Grit.
“Quite simple really,” Ja’tar answered, “You have a key and you need to know the location of where you are going. You enter the location using the glyphs and next, insert the key prior to walking through the portal.”
“Well, that isn’t quite right,” Zedd’aki coughed under his breath.
Ja’tar heard him and decided to elaborate, albeit a bit put out. “It’s a little different, because you are walking a shortcut through time between two places, not teleporting. It’s difficult to explain. It’s as if you’re moving faster than everyone else in the world, although to you, it seems like normal time. Everything seems to stand still.”
“That’s it?” Dra’kor said, not believing it could be as simple as that. “So you look like you disappear because you are moving fast compared to everyone else in the world.”
“Well, that’s mostly it, but the path is fixed, you cannot wander wherever you desire. Some portals only have paths to certain locations; and those are more like sliding down a slippery slope. You just step and glide. Those always made me a bit nauseous. Anyway, the point is, the portals can be difficult to find. The Ten hid them in plain sight, meaning they don’t exactly look like totems or portals.”
“Eh? I don’t get what you mean,” Grit queried.
Ja’tar hadn’t expected to have to explain everything in detail. He had to remember that many of the things he took for granted, were unknown to most of the Keep, even Zedd’aki.
“Well, they can look like a couple big rock outcroppings, or a large copse of ancient trees, a cave. They can be nearly anything. The one nearest the Keep is inside a cave. The cave contains the ruins of a sacrificial altar. That is the portal.”
Dra’kor, obviously irritated, pondered out loud, “Why? What’s the point of the subterfuge?”
Ja’tar broke out into a loud laugh at Dra’kor’s expense,
“Well now Dra’kor, we didn’t want people materializing in the middle of wherever. It really spooks the commoners. Besides, it allowed us to move around with the illusion of being in many places at the same time.”
“I suppose …,” mumbled Dra’kor, seeing the benefit in the illusion. As a matter of fact, he got the joke, albeit at his own expense, and could imagine the Ten popping up in the middle of a small village, scaring the wits out of nearby townsfolk.
“Poof!” said Men’ak, wiggling his fingers in front of Dra’kor’s face.
“Ha … Ha …” he muttered back insincerely. Grit slapped him on the shoulder and gave him a big wide, gap-toothed grin.
Ja’tar continued, “So basically, that’s it. If the destination isn’t blocked by the totems and the realm you are in isn’t cut off, that’s all there is to it!”
“What if it is blocked?” Dra’kor asked.
“Ahhh! If it is a direct portal, you won’t be going anywhere, but if it is one of the general, you won’t be able to exit and will have to walk to the next portal, or return back.”
Zedd’aki quickly added, “Otherwise … you are either going nowhere, or just walking across the threshold into the next realm.”
Ja’tar’s voice got very quiet as he continued, “Right! If you cannot leave through a general portal, you have far more pressing problems at any rate.”
Ja’tar emphasized, running his hands through his hair, “It means you are cut off, and you don’t have much time to make your peace with your maker. Most likely, you’d already know because of the ailing.”
Dra’kor’s head shot up, “What are you saying —?”
Zedd’aki answered quickly, “It’s like this. If you are in a realm when it is cut off, you have no tie to the magic of the Zylliac. The totems will not let you leave and you only have as much time as you have stored magic. At the moment of closing, your stomach would heave and your head would ache. You’d know —”
“Can’t leave ever?” Grit whispered so quietly, no one heard him.
“No magic …,” someone muttered under his breath.
Ja’tar’s voice cracked and trembled as he fought back the tears and had to grab the wall to steady himself. “It is said to be very unpleasant. Being cut off, that is … is what happened to — To’paz.”
Zedd’aki quickly stepped to his side and laid his hand on his friend’s shoulder to console him, “We can do this later if you wish?”
Ja’tar waved him off, bent over placing his hands on his knees, and took a few deep breaths, “I’ll be fine, just give me a minute.”
Dra’kor realized his question was stupid from the second it left his lips and he cursed himself for his thoughtlessness. He hadn’t intended to throw salt in Ja’tar’s wound. He unconsciously wrung his hands. Dra’kor did wonder how they enslaved the Zylliac using magic when the Zylliac was the magic. But conversely, the Ten were by all accounts very strong. Maybe there was some merit to what Ja’tar had said about old magic …
Inside, he knew what happened when a realm was cut off, but in his lust for adventure, the fact that he would be in a place where it could happen to him had somehow been forgotten. The stark reality that his life would be at risk raised a lump in his throat. He was second-guessing himself as to whether or not he really wanted to be involved as much as he had bragged that he did.
Dra’kor ran a hand through his hair and his voice trembled as he apologized, “Ja’tar, I’m so sorry. I knew the answer to that …”
Ja’tar looked up, brushing away the painful memories. He realized that Dra’kor was struggling internally with the reality of the situation and hadn’t meant anything by the comment. Still, it hurt.
Ja’tar looked up into Dra’kor’s eyes and could see the conflict. It is one thing to talk and spout off about how you would change the world, but it is entirely different when someone hands you the opportunity and you have to risk your life in order to keep your word and walk the walk.
Ja’tar smiled to himself. Dra’kor was being forced to grow up and reconsider his convictions. Coming to terms with how deep your convictions are, now that was indeed a valuable lesson.
“One last thing before I forget. It is possible to control access to the realms by using the portals. They can be managed so that all magic users need to enter and exit the realms only through the portals. I don’t know if Curators of the realms still remember that they can control access this way, or not … but they used to place sentries at the portals to track the mages and other magic users who came and went.”
“Sounds like they didn’t trust us …,” Men’ak muttered.
“They didn’t, and for damn good reason …,” shot back Zedd’aki, spittle spraying from his lips.
The three friends exchanged glances with each other. Zedd’aki wasn’t usually so emotional.
“Sorry. That came out a bit heavier than I meant it. It’s just —” Zedd’aki’s voice faded and his eyes dropped to the floor.
“No offense taken. We all know the ugly truth of why,” Ja’tar consoled his friend.
“So, we’ve seen all this,” Dra’kor said, with the wave of his hand, “and yet we have no idea what you want.”
“I’m getting to tha —” Ja’tar tried to say.
“I assume you have a plan …,” Dra’kor asked abruptly, his impatience showing as he cut Ja’tar off.
Ja’tar had been thinking on his feet. He was making things up as he went along and had cobbled together a fair idea of what he wanted done. He wasn’t sure it was the right thing, but for now, it would suffice.
Zedd’aki scowled and turned to face Ja’tar, for he was anxious to hear the plan too.
“I do. Here is what I am thinking so far. I really need you and your friends to go out into the realms and be watchful. Just do a walk-about and keep an eye out for things that seem out of place.”
Dra’kor heard what was being said, and asked the rather obvious question, “How can we know what is out of place when we have never been out in the real world?”
Ja’tar had anticipated the question.
“Why, you will have to use common sense,” he said with a wry smile.
Grit scratched his head, “But —”
Ja’tar cut Grit off, “Look. Most of the realms are mundane. I’m sure you’ll recognize misplaced magic if you see it.”
Grit nodded absently.
“What do we do if … if … we find something?” mumbled Men’ak.
“Well, if it’s dark magic, or if there are any unusual events going on that seem dangerous, you need to get out fast and return to the Keep.”
“Ja’tar’s right. I’m sure you’ll recognize danger. It will most likely be something that’s … noteworthy,” added Zedd’aki, giving Ja’tar a sideways glance.
“No heroics!” Ja’tar explained in a rather animated way making sure he emphasized that they were not to put themselves in harm’s way.
Zedd’aki nodded his agreement, “Seriously. It may be that the realms are shut and you will not even be able to enter, so you may only get to walk to the borders.”
The three friends looked a bit confused, so Ja’tar added, “Any irregular use of magic would likely have triggered the totems, like being attacked.”
“Ah,” Men’ak caught their drift.
“And … trying to enter a closed realm is a bit like pushing against a strong wind,” Dra’kor piped in, showing off his book learning. “Except that the closer you get to entering the realm, the harder the magic pushes you back. Right? But, it’s not harmful —?”
“It can throw you back rather hard!” Zedd’aki added, speaking from personal experience.
Ja’tar snorted. He remembered a very specific time Zedd’aki got tossed.
Zedd’aki heard Ja’tar’s snort and shot him a sideways glace, narrowing his eyes. Ja’tar grinned back.
Men’ak scratched his head. “I guess … we could do that. It’ll just be like a long walk … for nothing.”
“Not exactly for nothing,” Ja’tar uttered nodding his head and raising his brows.
“— But if we can’t get into any of the realms,” shrugged Grit.
“In that case, we would have our answer sooner rather than later and we can plan our next step. Honestly, I really do not know what to expect, but I fear the worst.”
“I suppose,” Dra’kor grumbled.
“With magic, there is always the unexplained and unexpected,” Zedd’aki added sardonically, emphasizing the unexpected.
Dra’kor and Men’ak nodded their agreement. Grit just had a vacant look on his face, like someone who just realized he had been tricked into something he was not ready to deal with.
Grit looked at Dra’kor as if he wanted him to say something, or to tell him it would be okay. All he got was a very serious Dra’kor. That scared him. Dra’kor was always flippant and this novel introspective rendition of his old friend did not sit well with him. He felt absolutely out of control and he hated it. He wondered what had they gotten themselves into.
Ja’tar continued explaining the quest in detail, “We’ll provide you with clothes akin to what the farmers wear. We have coin. Hopefully, you will blend right in with the locals. When you talk — try to use the old tongue. You should be able to pick up the local dialect quickly, there are not too many linguistic differences for the nearby realms, accent mostly.”
“Can we get some time with some of the housekeeping staff?” Grit asked. “They may be able to give us some pointers on how to act …”
Zedd’aki was surprised at the suggestion and nodded enthusiastically, “That is a great idea, Grit.”
Ja’tar nodded his agreement and added, “I suggest that you give yourselves a while to get used to an area when you get there and spend a few days observing and listening. After that, talk to the people, engage them in conversation.”
Men’ak scratched his head. “About what?”
“I don’t know —” retorted Ja’tar, getting a bit frustrated. “— ask about recent deaths, disappearances, crop failures, droughts, blights, that sort of thing. Keep your eyes and ears open, more listening than talking.”
“So basically you want us to eavesdrop in on conversations?”
“Not exactly, Grit. Just … let them talk, buy them an ale or two — if need be, it loosens the tongue. Stay inconspicuous, and remember to complain a bit about the kings and tax collectors. Be agreeable … if you can.”
Dra’kor shot him a very nasty glance, knowing the comment was a dig directed specifically at him. Yet, he couldn’t deny his demeanor.
Zedd’aki added his two cents worth, “Best to keep the fact that you are mages secret if you can.”
Dra’kor sarcastically retorted, “Okay, I get it already. Be secretive! Be … nice!”
“Oh, and be careful of the stories you tell. If you fabricate a family or a life in one of the other realms, keep it simple and somewhat vague. Many locals have family throughout the area and are bound to trade with specific villages. You don’t want to have to answer questions about things you really don’t know. Remember we are not as well thought of as we used to be,” Zedd’aki added.
Grit nodded his agreement. He had not thought about the fact that towns’ people would know others in far off realms and perhaps even have news from tinkers or bards who traveled. There was going to be lots of thinking. He wasn’t sure he liked that.
“It’s a lot to think about …,” added Men’ak, echoing Grit’s private concerns.
Ja’tar pursed his lips. “Indeed.”
Grit’s face filled with worry. “What if we err and reveal ourselves?”
Zedd’aki smiled, “A single slip of the tongue probably won’t do much damage. Remember, they are not expecting magi. Just act as if it is a joke and correct yourself.”
“Ja’tar, how do we get from village to village? I assume we are walking …”
Ja’tar paused for a bit and nodded, “That would be best I suppose. Remember Dra’kor, most peasants walk, only a few have horses.”
“I hate walking,” whined Men’ak.
“— But you could do it,” said Dra’kor forcefully.
“I suppose I could, for the cause.” Men’ak ceded.
Ja’tar smiled and pointed at the map. “I would suggest that you stick to the main roads and trails. Even if there is nothing to fear, highwaymen and thieves are always about looking to loosen money from those who travel alone. Nevertheless, the three of you together should be all right. Town folk should be able to tell you whether safe passage is to be expected. You could travel with a group if you wish.”
Dra’kor spoke up, “Thieves would be very sorry if they attacked us. They would pay dearly.”
Ja’tar grinned to himself, Dra’kor had replied exactly as he expected.
“I don’t fear so much for you, but the word would be out that there are magi mucking about. That would put everyone on the alert for strangers. Our ability to garner the truth … would be severely hampered. We cannot afford that, so best to just be … insignificant.”
Dra’kor’s frustration showed. He had reached the point that he turned toward the door and slammed his fist on the solid oak mass. “You mean you want us to remain under cloak, and hide who we are? What’s
the point?” He had imagined this to be a grand way to get some validation of their worth from the locals and not being able to show off magic put a cloud over his enthusiasm.
“For now, I believe it is best,” Ja’tar nodded looking each Dra’kor, Grit and Men’ak in the eye.
“People are more likely to open up about things when they are not amongst strangers. They have not dealt with magi in a long, long time. They know us not. The stories of our arrogance are still wildly known and the bards still celebrate our demise in song and story.
“Remember, right or wrong, we are still feared and loathed. It will be far harder for you to try to blend in, but I think you will get more quality information if you do. Besides, what we absolutely do not want now is panic or confrontation.”
Dra’kor listened as he rubbed his fist. He had not meant to hit the oak as hard as he did. He felt a bit foolish for letting his temper get the better of him.
“I suppose you are right. We can do that … I guess it would be best at this time not to draw too much attention to ourselves. We don’t really know what is going on anyway,” reasoned Dra’kor.
“Think of how you would react if you were in their shoes,” Zedd’aki added. “Remember, their last memories of magi were during Ror, the bards sing of Duvall floating on air through the realms with her hair whirling, eyes aglow and hands crackling with lightning that reached to the heavens. She laid most of the realm to waste trying to root out the evil that had infiltrated. She didn’t care about collateral damage.”
“I cannot imagine, so I guess we can take your word for that and do as you say,” said Dra’kor in resignation, as a chill ran down his spine. “For now—”
Ja’tar slapped him hard across his back. “Of course you can, Dra’kor. I have confidence in you. We can work on establishing our relationships with the realms, but we need good cause to show ourselves. We will pick times and events to suit our needs, to maximize their effects to our benefit. We need to prove our worth. I have a feeling they will need us, as much as we will need them if things come to pass.”
“But, we are intending on re-engaging the realms?”
Dra’kor leaned forward, expecting a specific answer.
The Legacy of the Ten: Book 01 - Eyes of the Keep Page 18
