Star Mage (Book 5)

by John Forrester

  Yarin gave him a quizzical look, but nodded and led them up north past the plaza, to an administrative building graced with tall, sleek pillars and a wide frieze displaying symbols of justice and balance and punishment. Likely this was the famous Ursulan Hall of Justice.

  “Another building that we’ve been forbidden to enter. Most of the Jiserian soldiers and knights lived here, though by now I believe all have left and returned to the capitol.”

  “We’ll need to be quite a bit more cautious here, as the undead have trouble distinguishing between the living.” Once they entered the building, Nikulo ordered the undead to protect the entrance, and signal a warning if any intruders came.

  The vast, towering halls of marble and stone were empty, save for the sound of their shoes slapping against the floor. Giant statues of the gods stood watch, of Nyx and Nestria and Nacrea, and the hero Lord Heti of Calabastria, with a slain dragon under his feet. Here the cry of justice could be heard from the walls itself, with no answer forthcoming.

  They strode behind an impressive looking entryway into what Yarin claimed was once the office of the justices, and their armed enforcing branch that meted out the proclaimed verdicts of the court. The offices were empty save for a few severely decomposed bodies, with little left to even interest the flies. Downstairs Yarin led them, until they found a stairwell down three flights, finally reaching a locked door. Nikulo still remembered the few lessons he’d been taught of fire magic, and he released a slithering flame into the lock, melting the mechanism until the door swung open.

  “Go and see if any of the prisoners are still alive,” Nikulo said, and purposefully stayed behind to ensure that Yarin and the other men performed their duty as proper bait for any sorcerers like might be lurking inside the prison.

  The prison was significantly larger than Nikulo would have expected, and he found row after row of mostly empty cells. What are we doing in here? he wondered, and was about to turn around and leave when he heard a shout come from the last row. He darted down the corridor and reached the cell where Yarin and a few other men pointed inside.

  “Someone is still alive in here,” Yarin said, and Nikulo peered in through the cell bars to where an old, shriveled man stared at him from the corner.

  “Master Holoron?” Nikulo exclaimed, and felt his heart thump in excitement at seeing his old Legends and History Master from Naru. He cast a quick burst of flame and melted the lock, and yanked open the door with Yarin’s help.

  Master Holoron had once again closed his eyes in his sitting meditation, and only opened them when Nikulo handed the old man a water skin to sate his thirst. As one of the most senior of the Sej Elders, Master Holoron exuded a commanding presence that was felt by the men assembled around him.

  “Young Master Nikulo, here to rescue me from my imprisonment?” Holoron allowed a faint smile to flicker across his mouth. “I’m afraid you’ll have to help me out of here. Though I’ve managed to keep myself alive, the strength in my body has left me.”

  Yarin glanced at Nikulo with disbelief in his eyes. “How did the old man survive?” he whispered to Nikulo. “All the other prisoners have died, most of them several days ago. This prison has been abandoned by the Jiserians and the remaining prisoners left for dead.”

  “I may be old but I still have ears,” Master Holoron said, his voice still filled with the humor and vibrancy that Nikulo remembered him possessing. “As foolish a wizard as I am, I allowed myself to be captured by the Jiserians and imprisoned in a magically warded cell with little hope of escape. Though the air still contains water, it was barely enough for me to draw from and keep myself alive. Just carry me outside and let me feed from the sun, and then I shall be renewed.”

  Yarin and another stout man helped carry Master Holoron up the stairs and outside to the front steps of the Hall of Justice, where the sunlight shone down from the western sky. The wizard let his mouth fall open and he breathed in the power of the sun through slow, deliberate breaths, and after each inhalation Nikulo could see the color and vitality return to the old man’s face. Soon Master Holoron had enough strength to raise his palms towards the shimmering orb in the sky, and Nikulo could see his hands glow golden and the light of the sun poured into his withered figure, until the whole of his body shone with a brilliant orange hue.

  The other men shrank away from the Master’s shining shape, and only Nikulo stayed and marveled at the old man’s power, a power that Nikulo had no idea that he possessed. The memories he had of Master Holoron were of his stories of ancient legend and lore told in a dancing prose and a witty way that kept all his pupils in rapt attention. Never had Nikulo known or even suspected that Master Holoron was a powerful wizard in his own right.

  “Ah, the blessed rays of the afternoon sun.” The old wizard’s face had turned ruddy and was restored to his former vital self. “It is good to feel the power of the Goddess Nacrea shine on my old form once again. I bet you thought that only Master Viridian and Talis knew of Light Magic, is that not so?” His eyes twinkled in mischievousness. “Master Viridian was the leader of the Order of the Dawn in name alone. Though I doubt he would have been so stupid as to allow himself to be tricked and imprisoned by Jiserian sorcerers.”

  Master Holoron sighed and his eyes went wistful and sad. “How I miss old Viridian. Everything went to hell after he was slain.” The old man fixed his gaze on Nikulo. “Why in the name of the gods are you in Ursula? Last I heard, you and Talis and Mara had vanished and the Temple of the Sun destroyed by the Jiserians. We thought that you were all killed in the attack.”

  “No, that old fox Palarian kidnapped Mara, and Talis cast a world portal spell and we followed her into Chandrix.”

  At the old man’s befuddled face, Nikulo waved his hand with a reassuring gesture. “Tis a long story, Master, one that deserves time for the telling. The good news is Talis, Mara, and I returned safely to Naru around two weeks ago.”

  “But isn’t Naru filled with undead? Last I heard before I left was that the necromancers had infected the citizens with their fiendish plague.”

  “All healed by Talis’s spell. He has restored much of the city to its former glory—”

  “Then what sends you here to Ursula so soon after you return?” Master Holoron’s eyes turned suspicious as he studied Nikulo with a ferocious intensity.

  Nikulo felt trickles of sweat dart down under his armpits as he withered under the wizard’s gaze, until the old agony once again lanced his brain and the voices of the Naemarians filled his mind in feverish alarm. The ship, the ship! Go to the docks and quickly board the ship! The pain was suddenly fierce and the voices so irresistible that Nikulo found himself standing and stepping towards the docks.

  “What in the name of the gods is compelling you to leave?” Master Viridian narrowed his eyes and Nikulo could feel a violent heat prickling under his scalp at the wizard’s magical examination. “Something powerful and ancient attacks your mind, young master Nikulo. Though it does not possess your body any longer, it somehow still influences your mind…and it injures your sanity.”

  Leave, leave, you must leave at once! screamed the voices in unison, and they drove the pain so strong across Nikulo’s brain that it caused him to collapse to the ground, a whorl of light and shadows twisting in his vision until the world went black and he lapsed into unconsciousness.

  13. NIGHT FEVER

  Mara never felt the massive wave slam against her body and catapult her far back into the swarming sea. She never felt the icy rush of water singe her skin and pour into her lungs and sink her splayed figure down to a watery grave deep in the bottom of the sea. Instead of unconsciousness and death, she witnessed Talis rush to the ship’s prow and stand unyielding in the face of the magnificently destructive wave.

  The wind was a wild, primordial beast, the very elemental disaster the poets had prophesied for the world many years ago. A deluge of water, a deluge of fire, a deluge of darkness demolishing all life across the land. And Mara gazed at the oft-n
amed face of fury in the titanic wave and found the names insufficient for the insanity of its rage. It was beautiful and hideous and sweet in the song of its relentless pursuit of disintegration. Talis raised his palms in a kind of greeting, as if his hands were telling that terrible force, I welcome and embrace you, and in that embrace I empower your eradication.

  The shock of the force of power from Talis’s hands rippled in long arcs across the sea. The fifty-foot wave was vaporized into a fine, steamy mist that sizzled and boiled atop the churning sea. But the remaining swell still lifted the boat dangerously high, causing Talis and Mara to skid back along the deck, grasping for anything to stop their fall. Then as they crested the enormous wave, the deep valley below threatened to plummet the ship into obliteration.

  Talis darted over to Mara and seized her wrist just as the ship dove down the swell, but they discovered that Master Goleth’s crystalline shield was high enough to keep the prow from being pulled under by the mauling waves.

  “We should go below deck.” Mara had to shout for him to hear over the roar of the storm.

  “Go ahead and be safe, I have to keep watch for more waves like the last one.” Talis stared through the torrential showers, studying the cresting and crashing waves. “It’s going to be a long night.”

  Mara shivered under the cold rain and shook her head, determined not to leave him. Although she could see his eyes were angry and fearful, because she refused to go, she thought he looked relieved at the same time to have her stay with him.

  They leaned against the ship and watched the waves rise and fall, and cuddled close as the boat pounded against the ocean. She felt her stomach twist and flip from the ship’s wild movement, and thought that at any second she might be sick. Better to stay above deck and still breathe the crisp air, she told herself. But instead of the thought steadying her she vomited off to the side and Talis held her hair back and she could feel the heat of his hand flow into her trembling body and warm her. His touch steadied her stomach and made the world clear again until she gasped in a huge inhalation and sensed that the ship had calmed somewhat.

  She thanked him as he withdrew a handkerchief and wiped her face clean and offered her some water that soothed her parched throat. The waves did subside a bit, and in her now feverish mind she imagined them waning and the wild thrashing of the ship subsiding more and more.

  “It’s getting better.” Talis’s soft voice calmed her anxiety, and as she joined him in studying the sea, she could tell the truth in his words. They still waited for a long while more, and in their watchfulness Mara could feel the fever flourish and her face was so hot that she craved the diminishing rain, cool and calming on her forehead and cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something, and Talis interpreted this as a desire for water. He poured more of the wonderful liquid into her mouth and she drank and drank, but the coolness of it only seemed to fuel her rising fever.

  “You’re dripping with sweat!” Talis said, and wiped her brow. “Did I give you too much heat of the sun when I cast the spell?”

  Mara shook her head and gave him a feeble smile of encouragement. “I think I’m ok to go down and rest. Can you help me? I feel all wobbly and weak.”

  As he helped her stand, the weight of her drenched backpack strained her shoulders. They hobbled together towards the stairwell leading below deck, and despite the still unsettling movement of the ship, they made it down and into Mara’s small cabin, where at her insistence, he’d snuck in and stayed with her each night.

  “Can you stay with me for a while?” She let her heavy backpack drop to the ground, but kept it close as she felt the twin daggers calling out to her in warning. When she and Talis had first enjoyed the freedom of the smuggler’s cove, her mind had raged about leaving the daggers behind when Talis asked her to go swimming in the sea. In her silent entreaty, she begged the daggers to loosen their chain of torment, vowing to never leave them if they agreed to withhold the pain. This had allowed her to swim in the ocean unfettered, and roam around the cove blissfully unbothered.

  But since their journey aboard the Emperor’s Revenge, the daggers had proven jealous, guarded masters, and had insisted that Mara keep close to them, especially with all the danger lurking around. I really should tell Talis, she thought, if he knew he might be able to help me. Or he might judge you, a sinister voice told her. The voice of the Nameless, the voice that she’d heard in the Ruins of Elmarr. The voice she knew craved the death of all living beings. The utter disintegration of the individual into the consumption of the whole. And that voice had promised her—

  “What was that?” Talis said, and peered into her eyes with a concerned expression on his face. He mopped her brow with tender strokes, and offered her more drink. “You were mumbling something about a promise…”

  She shook her head and gave him a disarming smile. “The fever must be affecting my mind. I was thinking back to our trip across Lorello, and when you saved me in that horrible graveyard. I really owe you so much, Talis. And you saved me again, you saved this ship from destruction—”

  He pressed a soft finger to her lips to quiet her. “You should rest and get some sleep.”

  But she didn’t want to sleep. She felt her heart open in tenderness and love towards him and didn’t want to close her eyes. A soft light was shining in through the porthole, and the sight of his beautiful face lured her to study all the contours of his forehead and nose and cheeks and ears. Above his lips, a soft fuzz was forming, and she knew it would one day grow into a beard like his father. She loved him for the man he’d become one day, strong and stern and proud, but still with the same kind eyes that fell softly on hers. She willed that he would one day love her as she loved him now.

  When he moved to sleep in the top bunk, she opened her mouth and spoke in a hoarse voice, “Stay with me, there’s room for you here. I don’t want to sleep by myself.”

  He nodded and she slid further in and made room for him to crawl in beside her, and she could feel his body shivering a bit. Mara came out of her feverish state for a moment and realized they were still wearing wet clothes. “We should take off these clothes…we’re going to get sick.”

  Talis’s face went shy at her suggestion, so she squirmed out of bed and locked the door to their cabin, and as he stood, she turned him around while she pulled off her soaked pants and shirt, and dove under the blanket. She grinned at the expression of embarrassment on his face, but she refused to look away, finding herself curious and bold in her feverish state.

  He gave her an annoyed expression as he unbuttoned his shirt, but she just grinned in a wild look of delirium and watched in wonder as he pulled down his pants and scrambled under the covers. She felt his soft skin and a strange sensation tingled across her body as he wiggled in next to her. An excited giggle escaped her lips, the kind of girlish giggle she hated hearing from the practiced mouths of pretty girls fawning over the attention of young men. But his sparkling eyes dilated in response and he fixed his gaze on her, and only looked away after a flush appeared on his face.

  “You’re shivering,” she whispered, and stretched out her hands to wrap around his trembling arms. Likely embarrassed of their close proximity, he turned his back to her and she found her fingers feeling along the curve of his shoulder as it dove down along his arm. His body quivered in response. The fever flushed sweat again from her pores, and her mind felt muddled but wildly awake and alert. Her body acted with its own volition and she scooted up to press her chest against his back and she snaked her arm around him and felt his heart pounding against her palm.

  “Are you sleepy?” Mara said, and found her throat dry and raspy. He shuffled in response and twisted himself around to face her once again.

  “I don’t know if it’s such a good idea for us to be like this.” His voice sounded unconvinced of his own words. Mara was unable to think as her mind was absorbed in the sensation of his quick exhalations wafting along her neck.

  “I just want to hold you, that’s all.” S
he saw that her smile caused him to part his lips. “Is it wrong for us to just hold each other?”

  He shook his head and awkwardly wrapped his arms around her, but still kept a distance between them as they held each other. A bead of sweat slid down and stung her eye with its saltiness. She blinked and wiped her brow and Talis ran a cotton cloth across her forehead.

  “You’re still feverish.” His voice was softer and resigned now, as if he was no longer nervous to be lying next to her. But he still kept a safe distance, and soon turned to lie on his back.

  But Mara was still feverish and found herself daring and careless about his sense of propriety. She snuggled in close to him and wrapped her arm over his now sweating chest and surprised herself by sliding her leg over his, and immersed herself in the new sensation of his skin against her thigh. Instead of responding to her movements, she was disappointed as he closed his eyes, and whispered groggily, “We should sleep.”

  After fidgeting around for a while, a wave of weariness washed over her mind and she found the images of exuberant faces luring her into the dream world. She followed the people down a long, shimmering corridor of white marble, and was greeted by a celebration complete with cheering and the raising of flutes of crystal glass filled with fizzing wine. Over and over she toasted and drank the sweet, fragrant liquid, and found the frenzy of the festivities lifting her spirits to a place of reckless abandonment. She danced with handsome young men dressed in radiant blue robes of the finest silk. Her raised hands snaked and slithered in poetic movements, causing her dancing partners to rave in exaltation at her sensuous swirling.

  Laughter poured from her mouth and she danced and drank again, more each time, until the feeling of freedom and fury possessed her in a singular sensation. All the while a deep, immoral voice whispered in her ear, urging her to drink again, and dance more, and relinquish all thoughts and worries into the fire of her new freedom. Her body writhed and twisted and shook, until the world wheeled around in a whirlwind of sights and smells and sounds.