The Nine Keys of Magic
Volume One of the Chronicles
of the Myrkron
Written By
Timothy Woods
The Nine Keys of Magic: Volume One of the Chronicles of the Myrkron is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and events are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or events is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © August 2011 Timothy Woods.
All rights reserved.
ISBN 978-0-9837798-0-3
Original Cover Art - Heath Vincent
Printed in the United States of America
This book is dedicated to the memory of
Thomas Carmin
Step-father and friend
I wish you could have shared
in this adventure with me.
Special thanks to my wife, Cindy, for supporting me in my writing and for all her help in making this novel happen.
Chapter One
Michael and Karin were walking down the darkening sidewalk of Main Street, making their way home to pack for their upcoming trip. The sun set half an hour ago, and the widely spaced street lights at this end of town caused everything to be cloaked in shadows. Most of the storefronts were dark and closed for the night due to the lateness of the hour. Tomorrow was their third anniversary, and they lingered longer than either had planned over dinner.
Michael was happier than he could ever recall. He glanced over at Karin and smiled. Things were working out perfectly. He met the woman of his dreams almost four years ago this August. She had been working at the local library where he was researching ancient historical sites for one of his books. She led him to the volumes he needed, and two weeks later Michael finally worked up the nerve to ask her out. He found it hard to believe that she accepted and even harder to believe she agreed to marry him just four short months after that. Yes, his life was finally starting to fall into place.
Karin was only five feet two with long chestnut hair and the most arresting and unique eyes; pale blue with a dark blue ring around the iris and dark blue flecks throughout. I definitely got the better end of this deal, Michael thought to himself with a smile. I got a beautiful wife, and she got Joe Average. Michael was six feet tall with a slight build, brown hair, and blue eyes. His nose was over large, and his shoulders were slightly stooped. Our kids will have blue eyes, he thought. God, I hope they get their mother’s looks instead of mine.
Karin looked over at him and saw him staring forward smiling.
"At another of your sites?" She asked.
"Huh? What?"
"You were far away again. I was wondering what great historical site you were visiting."
"Oh, yes, only the most important historical site in history itself, the library," he smiled at her. Karin laughed at him as she smacked him on the arm.
"Come on. We need to get home and finish packing. I can't wait to see England."
In the next heartbeat, Karin gasped in surprise. Michael looked up to see a figure in front of them wearing jeans and a hooded sweatshirt with the hood pulled low. The man had his hands in his pockets and stopped directly ahead of them. Michael started to pull Karin behind him when he heard a strange popping sound. He felt Karin pull away from him suddenly. He turned to see her lying on the ground. Time seemed to stop as Michael stared down at her. Karin was not moving, and there was an odd stain on the front of her shirt.
"That’s funny. I don’t remember her spilling any wine on herself at dinner," he said out loud.
Michael felt something tugging at his back pocket. Turning around, he saw the man again, but now he could see the gun in the thief’s hand and his wallet clasped in the other. Time started again as Michael's brain registered what just happened. The man was turning to run as Michael's world shattered all around him. He noticed that the man seemed to be moving in slow motion; then Michael's head exploded in pain.
He fell to his knees, clutching his head with both hands. He could see nothing of the world around him; but in his mind, Michael could see nine massive, ornately carved, black doors. The first three doors stood open and from them poured a brilliant white light. He could hear the roaring of a wind as if a tornado had been unleashed in his head. As Michael watched, the next three doors flew open explosively, and the pain crashed over him in another wave. Then the words Funditus Incinerate thundered in his mind. He stood up shakily, and pointed his right hand, palm out, at the fleeing man. Feeling as though he were watching himself from outside his body and looking through his own eyes at the same time, Michael saw his hand rise and then heard himself repeat the words still ringing in his head.
"Funditus Incinerate!"
Michael watched as a shimmering wave of heat shot from his hand to engulf the fleeing man. There was no fire, but the man started to scream and writhe. His yell was cut off as his entire body, clothes and all, blackened and then drifted to the ground as flakes of ash to be blown away by the wind. Michael yelled out, the sound of an animal in pain, and then he collapsed beside Karin, his eyes staring up at stars they could not see. All he could see were six open doors pouring forth a blinding light. Michael thought he felt a cool breeze blowing and heard the far off sound of sirens blaring moments before darkness reached up and grabbed him, pulling him down into oblivion.
Chapter Two
There was a soft knocking at the door. Accustomed to interruptions at all times of the day or night, Merric looked up from his book.
"Enter."
"Master, it has happened." Martin said as he glanced around the spacious study.
The walls were of the same cold, dark colored granite as the rest of the castle, but the room was warmed by a fireplace set in the wall to his right and by the numerous candles burning not only on the dark wooden desk, but also in the silver, reflector sconces on the walls. There were several rich colored tapestries on the left wall depicting forest scenes. They surrounded a multi-paned window. The glass was thick and of very high quality, containing no bubbles. Lining the wall behind the desk were massive bookcases spanning floor to ceiling as well as from the left wall to the right. The bookcases were full of books of every size and thickness. Martin inhaled the aroma of the study. Beeswax and leather mingled to a now familiar and comforting scent.
Merric looked fondly at the young man. Not much more than twenty years old, Martin was certainly a gifted student. He was only about five and a half feet tall and very thin. Martin's copper colored hair complemented his bright green, laughing eyes. The grey apprentice robes suited him well. The yellow sash of sorcerer, girding the garment at the waist, was adorned with a single black band at the end, marking him as a fourth key.
"What has happened, my boy? You open the fifth door?" Merric inquired smiling,
"No Master, the key still eludes me. Master, he has been found. The one we have been watching for."
Jumping to his feet, Merric leaned over his desk resting both fists on it. His towering height and dark scowl had caused more than one apprentice to lose his train of thought. Martin was amazed at how quickly Merric could move. Standing at nearly six and a half feet tall and thick boned, the speed of his movements always seemed incongruous with his size. The long grey hair and beard, always meticulously groomed, only added to the perception of slow, methodical wisdom. The hawk-like nose and clear, grey eyes could give his face the appearance of a cold and cruel taskmaster. Few saw that face though, for Merric was generally smiling. The smile transformed his face into that of a gentle, grandfatherly figure. When Merric smiled, his grey ey
es sparkled with life and the crinkles around them made his nose cease to resemble the beak of some predatory bird. In all, Martin could not imagine a man looking more wizardly than Merric.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes, Master. I was in the scrying room myself. I saw what happened. It can be no other; not with the power he displayed. I saw him disintegrate a man in less than one beat of my heart. He raised his hand and spoke, then the man burned to dust and blew away," Martin shuddered.
Merric’s eyebrows flew up. Scrambling around his desk, he grabbed Martin by the arm.
"Show me, Martin. I want to see it all."
"Of course, Master."
Before Martin could finish saying the last syllable, he heard Merric mutter an incantation, and the study swam before his eyes. They were suddenly standing before the huge basin in the scrying room. The room was only ten feet square and had been carved from the solid granite foundation of the castle. The stone basin in the center had been carved around and was part of the floor. Standing four feet high and three feet in diameter, the basin contained a dished out area that encompassed most of its top. Perfectly circular in shape and polished so that the room was reflected in its glossy black surface, the dish was filled with what looked like liquid silver. The only light in the room was that which was given off by the strange metallic liquid.
"How long ago?" asked Merric.
"About twenty minutes, Master," Martin replied, trying to get his stomach under control from the abrupt transport.
Merric stretched his right hand over the basin and laid his left across Martin’s eyes.
"Open to me, Martin; there’s a good lad. Now remember, from the beginning, and let your thoughts flow."
As Martin ordered his mind, he felt the gentle touch of Merric’s mind brush against his own, and then he heard Merric say Ostendo sum vestri sententia volo. He felt Merric’s hand move from his eyes, and Martin looked into the basin to see a replay of what he had seen earlier. A man and a woman walking down a street, arm in arm, talking to each other; then the appearance of the hooded man. What strange clothes they wear, thought Martin. He heard Merric’s quick intake of breath and glanced to see his master scowling again.
"That man was not there a moment ago," Merric said, and then continued to watch as the man pulled an object from his jacket pocket and discharged it at the woman.
There was a flash of fire and the woman fell, even as the man tried to pull her away from the danger he saw before them. Then the man turned to the woman, and the hooded assailant ran up and started to take something from the stunned man’s pocket. Money no doubt, thought Merric; a simple, tragic robbery. As the hooded man turned to run, the stunned man fell to his knees, clutching his head. Then he stood swiftly, if a little wobbly, and raised his hand toward the fleeing man and spoke. Merric watched, stunned, as the wave of heat shot from the man’s hand to engulf and disintegrate the hooded man, his ashes dispersing on the wind as if he never existed. Merric waved his hand over the basin, and the scene disappeared to become liquid silver once again.
"You were right, Martin. He is definitely the one. Unfortunately for that young man, they found him first. We will need constant scrying. I want to know if anything else happens that should not. That young man is going to think his faculties have left him, if he does not already. Since you have been watching already, I will have Mieka take over for you, and I will relieve her. When Mathis returns tomorrow, we will break this up into four hour shifts. I don’t want anything missed because of complacency."
"Yes, Master. I’ll continue to watch until Mistress Mieka gets here."
"Well done, Martin, well done. Now, we have to get the ball rolling in the proper direction and hope he is what we need. We know for a fact that he is at least a sixth key. This is unprecedented. We know dire mental anguish can unlock the first three doors, but I have never even read about it being able to unlock more than that, let alone provide the magi with the words to spells. This one must be powerful indeed. I’m off to get Mieka. Stay diligent, Martin." With that, Merric raised his hand and whispered, "Ut tertius solum," and vanished.
Martin, left behind, glanced at the basin. A frown came to his face. I have studied for years and have only opened four doors, while this man gets six opened for him in the blink of an eye. Still frowning, Martin waved his right hand over the basin and said, "Ostendo." He watched as the scene returned to the surface of the liquid silver. He saw the man lying on a bed with a curtain drawn around it, while people ran around poking and prodding him.
Merric rematerialized on the third floor landing, overlooking the great hall. He spun on his heels and headed down the east corridor to the women’s wing. Here, all of the women who came to study magic were housed. Of course, in these times, most of the dormitories were empty, there being only five female magi currently in residence, along with one other, a female wizard, Mieka. Merric smiled to himself. Mieka could light a cave at the center of the world with her very presence. Always smiling and cheerful, Mieka was one of his favorite students. Merric had always treated her like a daughter. She was probably in her forties now. She had been studying at Kantwell for more than half her life.
Merric turned the corner and saw Mieka coming from her room. A striking woman, Merric thought. She was tall and slim, with black hair and arresting brown eyes that were so dark they almost appeared black. She wore the navy blue robes of a wizard, having passed beyond apprentice almost two years ago. A silver sash bearing one blue band around its end marked her as a seventh key wizard. Unlike Merric’s robe, which was made from heavy velvet, her robe was made from a lightweight silk.
"Uncle Merric. I was just coming to see you." Mieka stopped in front of him and, even though she was tall, nearly six feet, she put her hands on his shoulder and reached up on tip toes to kiss him on the cheek. She had called him Uncle since the first week she arrived at the castle, a habit Merric never discouraged in her. Now, most students here really thought she was his niece, especially with her height.
Merric smiled and extended his arm to her. Mieka looped her arm through his, and they started back down the hall.
"My dear, I need to ask a favor of you."
"Anything, Uncle."
"I need you to relieve Martin in the scrying room. We have found a sorcerer on the other world, and I need him monitored. Mortow found him before we did and sent someone to kill the poor man’s woman. The episode was so traumatic that it opened at least six doors for him."
Mieka gasped.
"Six! Uncle, are you sure?"
"Quite sure, my dear. He disintegrated the attacker with heat. Only a sixth key can accomplish elemental creation, which you well know. What’s more, he cast the spell with no prior knowledge of magic. I would relieve Martin myself, but I have to make a journey. That only leaves you, since Mathis is away."
"Yes, I know, Uncle. Only four of us are left who are able to operate the scrying basin." Mieka’s face brightened.
"But we have more new apprentices this year than the last five years combined; three new girls and five new boys. The first two years after the war, we had only two. I must admit, I much prefer to teach in a group. One on one is fine, but the group dynamic creates an air of competition that drives them harder. They progress much faster when there is someone to one up." Mieka smiled remembering.
"So your classes are going well? I’m sorry I haven’t been by to watch, but I have been so busy with this research."
"That’s quite alright. I enjoy teaching. It makes me feel useful again."
"It is not alright. I am Headmaster here. It is my responsibility. I should not have placed it on you. I certainly appreciate your help though. I know the students are in good hands with you, Mieka. You have learned everything I can teach you. You worked hard and deserve the blue robe of wizard. By the way, how is Martin doing?"
"He is progressing well. He has mastered everything a fourth key should know, but for some reason, he has not been able to open the fifth door." Mieka smiled i
mpishly.
"I know he fumes at having to walk everywhere just like a magician. I must admit to teasing him mercilessly. I pop around whenever I know he is about."
Merric smiled down at her.
"He will open it, and when he does, he will learn to teleport like the sorcerer he is. He is very gifted for one of his age. I must leave now. Try not to scare the life out of him when you ‘pop’ into the scrying room." Standing away from her, Merric closed his eyes and muttered something Mieka could not hear. He vanished, leaving behind a small wisp of smoke that curled upwards and made a light popping sound as it disappeared.
Mieka laughed out loud. The impish grin came back to her face, making her look much younger than her forty three years. She closed her eyes, imagining the look on Martin's face, as she spoke the words that would take her to the scrying room.
Chapter Three
Michael woke slowly, disoriented. He felt covers, a bed, and a pounding headache. He heard someone moving around near him. There was sunlight filling the room. Karin must have gotten up and opened the curtains. He must have slept late for this much sun to be coming in, and they still had a mid-afternoon flight to catch.
"Karin? Why did you let me sleep so late? Karin?"
Michael realized he was not in his own bed. As his eyes focused outward, he saw he was not even in his bedroom. Sitting bolt upright, feeling his head swim, he remembered the gun.
"KARIN!" Michael started to throw the covers off, but a firm hand, sleeved in navy blue, pushed against his shoulder as a nurse came into view on his other side. Looking up the blue arm, Michael’s world began to fall apart again as he saw it belonged to a police officer.
"Karin…no!"
"Stay still, Mr. Nickels," the nurse said as she injected something into his IV.
The Chronicles of the Myrkron: Book 01 - The Nine Keys of Magic Page 1
