by Ian Gregoire
“Of course I have.” He appeared somewhat confused by her question, or perhaps her tone of voice. “What’s that got to do with the price of milk?”
“So you have complete control of your invoking of Inkansaylar? You can form a barrier sphere around yourself, and maintain it?”
“Yes,” he replied impatiently.
“And for how long are able to sustain it?”
The frown marring Vartan’s face made it clear how thrown off he was by Kayden’s line of questioning. “Five hours was the longest time I kept one up during training,” he replied. Far from impressive but more than enough for her needs. “Why?”
Kayden slowly backed away from Vartan, taking small measured steps. “For my diversion to work I need you to form a barrier sphere around yourself, now. And no matter what happens next don’t let it down until it’s safe for you to do so.”
“You had better start making sense,” he rasped threateningly, “because if you’re messing me around—”
“Protect yourself, now!” It was a command that brooked no dissent, an order that would not be repeated a second time. She observed with relief as a translucent, spherical shield—reminiscent of a large, soapy bubble—enveloped Vartan. A smirk tugged the corner of Kayden’s lips, and then she extinguished her illumination orb, plunging the room into darkness.
Without hesitation she thrust a hand upwards at the ceiling above where Vartan stood, invoking Yuksaydan. Simultaneously, she turned on her heels and darted toward the exit as the invisible blast she had unleashed struck with ferocious force, obliterating a section of the ceiling. With the thunderous cacophony of masonry falling upon the shielded apprentice assaulting her ears, Kayden created another illumination orb to aid her rapid departure from the room. Out in the corridor, she dashed towards the doorway of the room where she planned to hide and wait for the arrival of the two randy Sanatsai.
Giving no thought as to whether Vartan was as good as his word, she reached the room without incident, disappeared inside and extinguished her orb. Standing to one side of the open doorway—her back pressed against the wall—the sound of her own heartbeat thudded in Kayden’s ears for what felt like an eternity. But barely a minute elapsed by the time she heard running footsteps go past her hiding place. She carefully peered out into the corridor to observe.
Success!
The two Sanatsai had been lured away to investigate the disturbance; they were both standing at the threshold of the communal room. The female Sanatsai sent the illumination orb floating before them straight into the room. Immediately, both she and her male counterpart rushed forward swiftly into the room after it.
That was Kayden’s cue to move. She created an illumination orb then exited her temporary hiding place and ran. She retraced her steps back the way she had come, through deserted corridors lit by the orb racing ahead of her, to rendezvous with the remainder of the group. When she finally breezed around the corner into the dead-end corridor, a part of her was almost disappointed to find her fellow apprentices anxiously waiting for her. She quickly shrugged off that feeling; she might need another sacrificial lamb to complete the mission, so she would tolerate Lazar’s presence for a while longer.
“What the heck just happened?” said Sinton. “We heard a loud crashing sound.”
“No time to discuss it,” replied Kayden. “We have to get going, now.”
“Where’s Vartan?” demanded Lazar.
Kayden brushed by Lazar as she walked towards the end of the corridor. “The idiot got himself caught.” Assuming he had survived. “Which is why we need to move quickly, before he gives us away.”
“There’s no need for Vartan to do that. Our instructions for what to do in the event we are caught are clear: we remain silent and wait for one of the Masters to retrieve us.”
“I wouldn’t put your faith in Vartan’s willingness to keep his mouth shut on this occasion.” Kayden halted at the dead-end wall at the corridor’s end. “Fortunately, he doesn’t know how to access the passageways. So, even if he does tell them our plans and they believe him, we still have an advantage.” She grabbed hold of a metal bracket on the wall and twisted it ninety degrees, then back. There was an audible click before she pushed against the wall, revealing a door-shaped section that slowly opened inwards.
“You were right!” gasped Neryssa.
Kayden peered back over her shoulder. “Was that ever in doubt?” Her incredulous tone was simultaneously dismissive.
“How could you possibly have known about this?” Bartis wondered aloud.
She turned around to address the remainder of the group.
“No time for questions. The patrols will be aware of our infiltration into the fort; they’ll be actively searching for us now. Just follow my lead.” She made a move to turn back around, but stopped herself. “And those of you unable to stop asking questions, please at least keep your voices to a whisper. While we’re making our way through the passageways it might be possible to hear talking through the walls in certain places.”
Finally, Kayden turned to face the dark entrance to the secret passages. The illumination orb floating overhead she sent forward before her, into the opening, then followed after it. The rest of the party followed behind her in single file.
CHAPTER TWO
Failure Is Not An Option
For a good quarter of an hour, Kayden led her cohorts through a maze of dusty, narrow passageways. The decidedly roundabout course she took—going up floors, then down again; navigating, at various times, east, north, west and south—elicited the occasional complaint from Bartis. Where was she going, and why was it taking so long to get there? Lazar, too, contributed a gloating quip that she should admit she was lost. But Kayden paid them no mind. It was water off a duck’s back. She knew exactly where she was going.
Eventually she brought the group to halt then turned to face the wall on her right side. She had finally reached the access point leading out of the passageways that would admit them to their mission objective—the office once used by the fort’s commanding officer. The section of wall she was standing in front of was just as nondescript as the rest of the wall except for one notable difference: a short metal bar attached vertically to the wall like a handle, plus the bracket allowing the access point to be opened.
“The office we’re looking for is on the other side of this wall,” Kayden whispered, as she gently patted the wall. “Once I’m certain there’s no one in there, we can go in and retrieve the box.”
Pressing an ear against the wall, she listened for any indication the room on the other side was not empty. She could hear no voices or sounds of movement. She was satisfied the room would be clear when they entered. A glance at her accomplices let her know they were waiting expectantly.
“Are we good to go?” asked Sinton.
Kayden nodded before reaching up for the bracket on the wall. She gently twisted it ninety degrees, then back. Once again there was a discernible click. She grabbed hold of the metal handle then slowly pulled a door-shaped section of the wall inwards. Peering into the room beyond, she was pleased to see that it was bathed in moonlight pouring in from the Palladian windows dominating one side of the office. There was no longer any need to sustain her invocation of Sinjaydan, potentially alerting anyone to their presence with the tell-tale pale blue glow of her orb. She extinguished it then signalled for her colleagues to enter the room—before she did…just in case.
She took a moment to close the access panel behind herself then looked around the office. The few remaining furnishings were in reasonably good condition, though, oddly, nothing in the room was as dusty as it should have been. Somebody had recently gone to the trouble of doing a little cleaning, presumably after having concealed the box she and her fellow apprentices were tasked with recovering.
While the other apprentices began rummaging in search of their quarry, Kayden found her attention being drawn to the entrance. The oak door looked innocuous enough, but she was perturbed by wha
t she could feel emanating from the doorway. She was sensing Zarantar—but not the familiar Zarantar wielded by all Sanatsai. What she was picking up, now, was the much less familiar Zarantar wielded by the Jaymidari. It was an unexpected surprise, though perhaps it shouldn’t have been. The Sisterhood Of The Covens and the Order went together like horse and cart. To all intents and purposes, though the Sisterhood was officially a separate and independent entity, it was still an integral part of the Order; or vice versa, as the case may be.
According to the women of the Sisterhood, Zarantar—a word from a long dead language preserved by them, meaning ‘the arts’—was of three types: Zarantar Jist, Zarantar Shayd, and Zarantar Najist; three similar, but very distinct expressions of a preternatural force emanating from the same source.
The branch of Zarantar wielded by the Sisterhood was Zarantar Jist, meaning ‘the pure arts’. It could only be wielded by women who pursued the calling of the Jaymidari, allowing them to channel the power of the ley-lines that crisscrossed the world, and were believed to be the source of all Zarantar. The Sisters deemed their expression of Zarantar untainted because it could only be used for beneficial purposes: to heal and preserve life. It wasn’t possible to kill with Zarantar Jist, nor was it necessary to cause harm in order to wield it.
The opposing expression of Zarantar, however, known as Zarantar Najist, meaning ‘the impure arts’, was its antithesis. Its primary purpose was to inflict harm. It was wielded by those who sought to oppress people, to cause death and destruction: the Saharbashi. The word roughly translated as ‘he who corrupts’, with reference to men who used blood sacrifice to overcome the obstacle that ordinarily prevented them from channelling ley-lines. This corruption subsequently allowed them to taint the power drawn from a ley-line in order to wield it for ill purposes.
The most recent manifestation of Zarantar known as Zarantar Shayd, meaning ‘the grey arts’, emerged little more than three centuries ago with the initial appearance of the children who would later be dubbed as Sanatsai by the Jaymidari who first discovered them. It was an appropriate word—literally meaning ‘living weapon’—for in the years before the founding of the Order, the Sanatsai were taught to master their power by the Sisterhood who then co-opted them as weapons to combat the activities of the Saharbashi. Unlike the Zarantar of the Saharbashi and the Jaymidari, the power of the Sanatsai wasn’t channelled directly from ley-lines. Though it was not fully understood how they came to be born, it was known that all Sanatsai were inherently imbued with Zarantar, so their power was invoked from within themselves. The Sisterhood deemed this third expression of Zarantar as ‘grey’, for though no Sanatsai required blood sacrifice to wield their power, Zarantar Shayd could be used for both good and ill.
“Any idea what the box looks like?”
Kayden’s musing was disturbed by Sinton who approached her from behind.
“Presumably like a box,” she replied, not tearing her eyes away from the door. “We were told we’d recognise it if we find it.”
She remained preoccupied with the office door as Sinton inquired, “Is something wrong?”
Offering no reply, Kayden instead marched towards the door, prompting Sinton to quickly fall into step behind her. As they stood together before the closed door Kayden stared all along the door frame—up the left hand side, across the arch-shaped top, then back down the right hand side.
“Are you going to let me in on what’s so interesting about this door?” pressed Sinton.
By way of reply, Kayden nonchalantly waved her right hand across the doorway, invoking Yuksaydan. A series of glowing red glyphs began to appear along the frame.
There was a sharp intake of breath from Sinton. “The door has been warded.”
“No doubt intended to keep us from entering the room, rather than preventing us from leaving with the box.”
“Then it can’t just be Sanatsai who are helping the guards. This ward could only have been set by a Sister.”
“Something we should have anticipated,” Kayden said matter-of-factly. “Sanatsai and Jaymidari have always worked hand in hand, even before the founding of the Order.” She glanced at her fellow apprentice. “Just one more surprise the Masters neglected to give us advance warning of.” A knowing smile curled her lips. “No matter, this could work to our advantage. Should any guards decide to investigate the room while we’re here, they won’t be able to enter. They’ll need to call someone to break the ward for them.”
Bartis trundled over, joining Kayden and Sinton at the door. “We’ve searched the entire room,” he announced. “The box isn’t here. It looks like the Masters have sent us on a wild goose chase.”
“That would explain why nobody has ever successfully completed the ‘capture the box’ assignment,” said Sinton, exasperated. “We can’t capture something that was never here in the first place.”
“No!” rebutted Kayden, turning her back on the door to cast an eye around the room. “Some of the intelligence we were given may have been inaccurate or outright lies, but you can be certain the box is here…somewhere.” She looked at Neryssa perched on the edge of the mahogany desk before the windows, her feet dangling off the floor. “There’s a small bedchamber through there,” she said pointing at a door set in the recess of the wall to Neryssa’s left. “Did you check inside?”
Neryssa slid off the edge of the desk to stand on her feet. She peered at the door she somehow hadn’t noticed before. “No,” she said. “We didn’t.”
Kayden sighed. “Well, what were you waiting for, an invitation?” She said, marching to the door.
The other apprentices crowded behind her as she pushed it open. The bedchamber was empty save for the remnants of a bed along one wall. From the small window in the opposite wall, moonlight diffused into the room, casting light on a dark metallic box on the floor in the centre of the room. The rectangular-shaped box appeared to be made of lead, adorned with silver-coloured engravings.
A jewellery box from the Underworld, Kayden thought to herself.
“What are you waiting for?” asked Lazar impatiently. “Let’s grab the box and get out of here.”
“Do you really think it’s that easy?”
It was probably a stupid question. If Lazar was unable to sense the Zarantar permeating the room, he surely thought it was that easy; but Kayden knew better. Once again she could feel the Zarantar of the Sisterhood. It would be unwise to simply rush forward to pick up the box.
“Oh, stop being such drama queen!” Lazar barged past Kayden into the room, intent on snatching the box.
She grabbed his cloak to yank him to a halt.
“Wait!” she snapped.
Lazar spun around —fists clenched—glaring at Kayden, but he made no further attempt to reach the box. “I get it,” he said. “You think you deserve all the credit for retrieving the damned box. You want all the glory by personally delivering it yourself.”
“Would you stop being so petty,” said Neryssa. “Kayden has been one step ahead all night. If she says ‘wait’, then you need to listen.”
Kayden skirted past Lazar to return her attention to the box on the floor. She slowly paced in a half circle around the box, like a predator stalking its prey. She paused, then stared up at the ceiling directly above the box, before looking back down at the floor.
“I knew it!” she muttered to herself, before waving a hand over the box. Instantly, another series of glowing red glyphs began to appear in a circle on the floor around the box. “It’s been booby-trapped.”
“Ha! Is that what you’re worried about?” asked Lazar. “I guess you’re not as all-powerful as you thought. Even I can break a simple ward. Stand aside.”
Kayden stared at the cocksure apprentice then flashed him a subtle, knowing smile. “Very well, genius. Please! Go ahead and break this simple ward for us.” She slowly backed away from the box, inviting him to move closer.
“Stand back everyone. Let’s watch an amateur at work.”
Apparently heedless of the fact he was being goaded, Lazar stepped confidently to the box then held out both his hands in front. At first nothing appeared to be happening. Suddenly, the glowing glyphs briefly flared, before seemingly changing to a gaseous state and dissipating out of existence with a fizzing sound.
Kayden looked on as Lazar crouched down to retrieve the metal box. As he reached to pick it up she closed her eyes and covered her ears. The moment his hand met the surface of the box there was a blinding flash of white light, followed by a loud noise like the rumble of thunder. Lazar was sent hurtling backwards through the air, out of the bedchamber, back into the office, where he landed at the foot of the mahogany desk.
“What the fuck?” barked Bartis, rubbing his eyes.
“Like I said,” Kayden said. “The box has been booby-trapped.”
“But we saw Lazar break the ward,” said Sinton, eyes blinking rapidly, trying to regain focus once more.
“A harmless decoy. The real ward is up there.”
She waved a hand up at the ceiling. This time, her invocation of Yuksaydan revealed a larger, more intricately patterned circle of glyphs that glowed a brighter, fiery hue of crimson.
“You will note the more intense glow coming from this one. It means—” She noticed Neryssa had left the bedchamber and was now checking on Lazar’s condition in the office. “Neryssa! Forget Lazar. He’s going to remain unconscious for a little while.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue! Because of his stupidity we’re going to have company, sooner rather than later. Get back in here!” Kayden resumed her explanation for Sinton and Bartis. “As I was saying, the intensity of the glow means that whoever set the ward has linked it to a nearby ley-line from which it is drawing additional strength. The ward cannot be broken without first severing its link to that ley-line.”
“And how are we supposed to do that?” asked Sinton
The question, highlighting the groups reliance upon her, provoked feelings of smug satisfaction within Kayden before she looked up at the glowing red ward. A translucent, half-spherical shield materialised on the ceiling, courtesy of her invocation of Inkansaylar, to contain the circular pattern of glyphs.
