The Summoner and the Seer: Darklight Universe: Book 1

by C. Gold

  Radcliff smoothed unseen wrinkles in the journal’s cover to stall for time while he thought up something to say in greeting, all the while wishing he’d had the foresight to read all the notes before now. With his luck, he already knew this man and had an entire conversation or three. He’d probably even jotted down the proper forms of greeting a respected leader of these people expected. He finally looked up into those judgmental eyes and gave a polite nod of silent greeting. He’d let his esteemed guest make the first move.

  The man must have caught onto Radcliff’s discomfort because his harsh expression softened slightly. After a few more lingering moments of intense study, the man finally broke the awkward silence. “I am Ekewaka, spiritual leader of the Alashaesen. This is our first conversation though we’ve met in passing.”

  Well, that made the situation less awkward. Radcliff breathed a bit easier. Perhaps this visit wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  “I am Radcliff, but you probably already know that.” And it was just dumb luck that I happened to read my own name right before you came, otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten that much. Maybe I should put out a sign warning people not to enter until afternoon if they want more than a one sided conversation.

  Ekewaka nodded his agreement then pointed at the book. “Does it help to write things down?”

  Does it help? It might if I read more than a few pages. Then again, maybe not. What little he scanned seemed far removed from anything he’d do. He resented this man’s overt curiosity into what Radcliff viewed as something intensely personal, but perhaps it would serve the man right to know how he truly felt. Maybe provoke him a little.

  “Not really. People say I’ve done bad things but I can’t believe it. I don’t feel evil.”

  “Evil is fairly relative isn’t it?” Ekewaka asked.

  Radcliff didn’t know what to make of that statement and was fresh out of ideas on what else to say. He didn’t feel like engaging in conversation that would make him look stupid so he studied the room instead. Since waking up, he’d focused on Amira and then the book without noticing his surroundings. The walls were made up of the narrow green tubes thrusting up from the ground and wedged tightly side by side. They formed a solid living wall which curved inward to bunch up at the ceiling. The floor was covered with a wall to wall ochre mat made from smaller diameter tubes cut and tightly woven together with some type of tough fiber. There was also a chair and table made from them as well. And likely he already knew all this and would have read it in his notes if this man hadn’t interrupted.

  The man remained silent as Radcliff perused his surroundings. When he ran out of distractions, Radcliff returned to studying his unwanted guest.

  Ekewaka waited silently until Radcliff’s attention shifted back to him before speaking again. “Some actions appear evil despite good intentions. Others look good on the surface but deep down have evil designs. So what is evil, really?”

  Apparently his guest was determined to draw him into a conversation. Radcliff grimaced in distaste. “I apparently killed people.” The statement wasn’t a question so much as a stick poking a slumbering bear.

  “Yes, and for many that was an evil. But what was your intent?” The man stared at him, eager for an answer.

  The slumbering bear turned the stick on Radcliff. “I don’t remember!” he shouted in frustration. Of course he didn’t remember, someone made sure of that. Someone he ached to rip into pieces. He jumped up and barely stifled an intense urge to throw the journal against the wall. Instead he tossed it on the bed and began pacing in the narrow space by the door.

  Ekewaka sat there calm as a rock in a stream. “I met you once, long ago when we signed the treaty with your emperor. You knew our language then and acted as the interpreter. Throughout the entire meeting I stared at you, hating you, knowing you were the one responsible for the fires that burned our forests and killed our loved ones.”

  Radcliff’s hands bunched into fists and he wanted to punch something. That voice was grating, like sand on a wound. He thought about telling the man to shut up, he didn’t want to hear this. But he was also starved for any information on who he was.

  “I wanted to kill you and looked for any reason no matter how small. But you stood like a statue behind your emperor and truthfully translated everything that was said. If you didn’t understand a term, you halted the talks and asked for clarification so you could remain impeccably accurate. Your eyes scanned our council for potential threats but in them I saw no malice, no gloating, and no wish to stir trouble. So, was that man evil?”

  Radcliff stopped next to the seat cushion and stared at his guest in confusion. Was he trying to find evil in him or exonerate him? Was he looking for a confession of guilt? If so he wasn’t getting one. Radcliff had to believe there was a good reason for his actions. That he wasn’t blindly evil.

  Ekewaka stood and slipped past him to the exit. With his hand on the door latch he paused and spoke again. “Your intention was to force a treaty. You fired our forest to make that happen. It caught people unawares and they died. Now at least you know the facts.” With that he exited the structure, letting the door bang shut in his wake.

  Although the man tried to sound clinical with his final assessment, Radcliff heard the underlying anger. It seemed like their leader came to judge him despite his lack of memory which wasn’t very fair. What was the guy truly after? Radcliff hated mind games, and this sure seemed like one. He sat on the bed next to his journal, deflated. Did he want to record this conversation? He was tired of reading only negative stuff about himself. Didn’t anyone like him? Still, it was better to know how people really felt so he could watch his back. And this was at least something about his past. With a weary sigh he turned to a blank page and started writing.

  The knock outside his door came as a welcome diversion. Radcliff had finally gotten through reading the entire journal and needed to get some fresh air.

  “Enter,” he called out.

  A head popped around the partially opened door. “Time for practice,” Kaholo shouted with excitement.

  “Ah, Kaholo.” Radcliff smiled. He had several days of notes about the young scout who was one of the few friends he’d made in the village. He recognized him by the small scar on his chin, the timing of his visit, and his youthful exuberance as the youngest scout in the village. “I’ll be right out.”

  After grabbing a biscuit and cheese to snack on, Radcliff joined Kaholo outside. He followed him down the narrow path leading between various structures. From outside, they were even more impressive. The stalks were actually living plants growing so close together they formed a solid wall. They were carefully curved to meet at the top where they were tied together to form the living quarters. The rest of the plant was left to grow straight up until it branched out into a thick, leafy canopy far above which shaded the entire village.

  In his notes, Radcliff wrote about how the path that wound between them was deliberately kept narrow as protection against predators. Plus, the entire village was surrounded by a wall of Shae grass with only one heavily guarded gate as an entrance to the village. Both the structures and the spiral nature of the path were defensive measures. When asked about the specific dangers, Kaholo refused to talk about it, citing bad luck if he dared speak directly of such things.

  They stopped at the gate while Kaholo talked with the guards before exiting the village. The practice area was just beyond the wall and had various target dummies set up. A few other boys and young men were already out there practicing spear tossing and dueling. Radcliff was surprised to see Amira there as well, fighting one of the older men with a staff. He watched in awe as she snapped it around so fast it was nothing but a blur of motion, attacking and defending with a master’s skill.

  “She’s really good isn’t she?” Kaholo observed.

  “I had no idea,” Radcliff replied.

  They watched for several minutes longer before the scout tugged on Radcliff’s sleeve. “Come on, we should ge
t started so you can get good like her.”

  Kaholo smirked and Radcliff flushed thinking about his journal entries on the subject. The first day after practice, he drew detailed pictures indicating proper stances and ways to defend. The second day was spent learning various ways to block. On the third day there were no pictures, just a single statement—terrible at spear fighting. There were no more entries after that. It was clear he’d given up on trying to improve and settled for the comradeship with Kaholo.

  “Prepare!” Kaholo called out as he tossed a spear to Radcliff.

  He caught it and had just enough time to get into a starting stance he recalled from his journal when Kaholo thrust straight at him. He sidestepped and moved the spear forward in an awkward return thrust but it came nowhere near Kaholo who had already jumped to the side.

  “You need to anticipate your opponent. Count on him to avoid your next planned move and adjust accordingly.” Kaholo grinned while giving his solid, non-judgmental advice. “Also, your footing isn’t quite right.” He moved behind Radcliff and slapped his left leg with the spear. “A little farther out. There you go. Now again.”

  Try as he might, the scout moved like the wind, leaving Radcliff feeling slow and clumsy. A few of the men turned to watch and eventually gave shouts of encouragement. Radcliff wiped his sweaty hands on his leggings and repeated the latest move until he finally got it right. Then everyone cheered and he couldn’t help a small smile. It appeared that not everyone hated him after all.

  A few hours later Radcliff understood why he hadn’t bothered adding anything else about spear practice to his journal entries. Not only was he uncoordinated, his body lacked the strength to whip the spear into position fast enough. Still, it was good exercise. His muscles burned and sweat poured off his body. And it also seemed to help his standing with the fighters. The men slapped him on the back and teased him in good fun once practice was over. As a group, they all headed to the river where they washed off the morning’s exertion. They were just beginning to sun themselves dry when a scream shattered the peaceful mood. It sounded like it came from the direction of the village.

  Everyone took off running, grabbing spears as they passed the fighting area, and stumbled to a halt at the gate which was ripped to shreds. The body of one guard was off to one side, torn in half. The other was missing. Kaholo took the lead, Radcliff right on his heels as they prowled down the path looking for answers.

  As they came around a bend that opened into one of the park areas, Radcliff saw a group of elder warriors, including Maleko, completely surrounding something in a loose circle. Each of their spears began twirling fast enough to blur, so Radcliff only caught a glimpse of what they faced.

  A large cat-like animal was standing in a pool of blood where the body of the second guard lay in separate chunks. It stood at least chest height and had smooth black skin and a reptilian tail that twitched back and forth. It was currently snarling at Amira, who was planted in front of Ekewaka twirling her staff in anticipation.

  Ekewaka stood behind her, his brow furrowed in concentration. Radcliff could see a stream of magic connecting him to the solid wall of Shae grass that blocked off the deeper part of the village where the path used to be. When it shimmered briefly, Radcliff gasped in surprise at the complex illusion. He looked at the spiritual leader with new respect.

  “A blink cat,” Kaholo whispered with dread.

  “What is that?” Radcliff asked, focusing his attention back on the scout.

  “It can travel to any location it can see in a blink,” Kaholo replied. Then he frowned. “They don’t normally attack fortified places.”

  Radcliff had to stand on a chair to get a better look at the predator. It dripped black foam from its mouth and its muscles bunched like it was preparing to strike.

  The thing moved instantly across the space to stand in front of Amira and its head snapped forward.

  The spinning staff struck its nose with a loud smack.

  The cat didn’t stay long enough for Amira to strike back. It leaped back to its center spot before blinking to another warrior.

  This warrior wasn’t as lucky. The animal’s powerful jaws snapped his spear in two. Before the cat could attack again, the men on either side of the warrior stabbed at the cat.

  It blinked away before they even got close.

  The warriors stepped closer to close the gap left by the injured man. Radcliff couldn’t believe how fast the thing was. Even with such skilled warriors, it had the advantage despite being outnumbered. “Doesn’t anyone have magic that can work on this thing?” he asked Kaholo.

  “Nah, magic slips off them.”

  “What about surrounding it with the wall illusion?” Radcliff tossed out.

  “It will just walk through.” Kaholo shrugged.

  “Yes, but then you could stab it with a spear.”

  “Ekewaka is the only one who can work illusions and his is needed to protect the rest of the village.”

  “How are they keeping it inside the circle?”

  “The spinning spears interfere with its ability to see a way past.”

  Well, for sure they couldn’t keep that up for much longer. Radcliff ran through the meager list of magical things he’d read about in his journal. He was hesitant to use magic—it would definitely increase tensions among some people and erode any good will he was forming with the group of warriors. While he debated, a second warrior lost his spear and a good chunk of his wrist. He dropped back, clenching his wound and biting his lip to keep from crying out. The remaining warriors took another step to close the gap. Good or bad will towards me won’t matter if everyone dies.

  He stared at the spear in his hand as he got a crazy idea. Either this would work or he’d fail to do anything, especially since he hadn’t tried any magic from the journal. It wasn’t like he expected to need it in the village. Besides, after Ekewaka’s visit, he’d felt like that part belonged to his past self. Even now, the thought that he could summon objects seemed unreal. And the journal didn’t mention things like what would happen if he summoned an object where another currently stood or if, say, an animal blinked into a place where an object suddenly appeared. Another crunching sound convinced him to at least try something.

  Radcliff concentrated on the spear in his hand, feeling its shape, its heft, and the warmth of it in his palm. He rubbed his other hand up and down the spear, studying the point made from metal and the shaft made from Shae grass. There was a subtle magic woven throughout that bound the parts together and strengthened the whole. Once he had a complete picture of the spear, he pictured it centered on where the blink cat stood right now. The image in his mind kept shifting to one side or the other. Just to test if he was doing it right, he pictured it standing in the dirt next to him and felt a snap as the spear instantly moved from his hand to his side, point down just like he wanted. Annoyed, he watched as the cat splintered another spear. So far, the warriors were keeping it contained, but it was only a matter of time before the cat killed someone.

  “Give me your spears,” he whispered to the surrounding group. When they gave him slightly distrustful looks he told them, “I have an idea that could help.”

  One by one each person donated their spear until Radcliff had a pile. He picked up one of the spears and learned it as well as his own. When he felt he knew that spear intimately, he stuck it in the ground at his side. He shut out everything except the memory of each spear until the pile was gone.

  “Kaholo, tell them to be ready to strike.” Radcliff couldn’t spare any attention to verify if the scout did as he asked or not. Instead he pictured the location of each spear in his mind until it was ready. Then he shoved magic into the image. All sixteen spears appeared around the blink cat’s head and shoulders, blocking its sight and momentarily trapping it.

  The cat tried to pull its head free, but the spears held it in place. Its snarls became louder and its motions grew frantic as it failed to break out of the trap.

  Maleko
charged forward and thrust his spear through the beast’s side at an angle to pin it to the ground. The other warriors followed right behind until the cat’s body could barely be seen for the spears. Its snarl of rage quickly turned into a gurgle as it choked on its own blood before finally collapsing.

  As Radcliff predicted, the surrounding group backed away from him with fear in their eyes as they alternated between staring at him and the dead cat. He ignored them and walked over to inspect the body. When all the spears were removed, there wasn’t much left of the cat. Its torn carcass oozed blood as expected, but Radcliff spotted an area of the skin undulating like something was crawling under the skin towards one of the gaping holes.

  Each elder warrior clapped Maleko on the back for getting first blood. Maleko grinned back and pointedly ignored Radcliff. Three warriors were off to the side getting patched up. It looked like only the first guard died, which was a relief. The sing song language flowed between the warriors as they began to celebrate life.

  Radcliff was the first to notice the tentacle as it emerged from the corpse. As it extended its long, skinny black body to stand swaying at eye level, others spotted it too and fell silent. The sucker mouth at its tip was filled with spiny teeth and opened and closed like it was seeking new flesh to feast on. Before that could happen, Radcliff uttered the spell for fire and burned everything to ash.

  Everyone jumped back at the sudden burst of flame.

  Maleko stomped over to Radcliff, his face red with fury. “You were supposed to have no memory.”

  “I don’t,” he calmly replied.

  “Then what was that?” Maleko pointed at the pile of ash.

  “I have some natural talents,” Radcliff shrugged. He wasn’t about to reveal his dependence on the journal.