A Land of Glass and Fire

by Sam Ferguson

  The shot went terribly wide and the arrow wobbled in flight.

  Morgan ran a few paces farther away and sent another shot. This one flew straight, but Jonathan could tell she had no idea where the enemy was.

  Jonathan looked to Orin. “Have her give me the bow,” he said.

  Orin stared at Jonathan for just a moment and then nodded. “Morgan, give the bow to him, now.”

  Jonathan rushed over as two more arrows came their way, one sailing wide and the second stabbing into Morgan’s saddlebag. He held his hand out and waited for her to offer him the weapon.

  “You better be as good as your stories claim,” she said.

  Jonathan smiled. “I’m better.” He took the bow and whipped around, pulling an arrow from the quiver hanging next to the saddlebag. His eyes scanned the trees while he nocked the arrow and prepared to pull back on the string. In the meantime, Griff was already darting back toward the trees. An arrow zipped out from the forest toward the cavedog, but the giant lizard was too quick. The shot did, however, give Jonathan an indication where the hidden archer was. He retraced where the arrow came from and found movement in the trees. “Come out and surrender now, or I’ll be forced to shoot,” Jonathan said.

  The archer set another arrow and started to draw back.

  Jonathan proved the faster of the two, drawing back and letting his arrow fly well before the other archer could. His arrow sailed straight and true, its flight ending with a dull thud. There was a groan and then the archer fell from his perch in the trees, crashing through several branches and slamming into the ground.

  “Is that the only one?” Orin asked.

  Jonathan readied another arrow just in case. “Griff will figure that out for us, just stay down for now.” Jonathan scanned the forest for his scaley friend, watching for signs of movement. He spotted the lizard briefly when it ran up to the archer, and then it disappeared in the trees and underbrush for nearly a full minute before it emerged from the forest. Griff’s tail was up triumphantly and he was back to his relaxed, carefree self.

  “We’re clear,” Jonathan said.

  “Well then,” Orin said. “If you’re sure, then let’s go have a look at our would-be assassin, shall we?”

  Jonathan turned and handed the bow back to Morgan. “Thanks for this,” he said. He then joined up with Orin, who still had his sword out and ready.

  “It isn’t that I don’t trust you,” Orin began, looking at the sword in Jonathan’s harness.

  “You want me to leave it here?” Jonathan asked. He snorted and then moved to his horse and removed the harness, securing it to his saddlebag for good measure. “Honestly, if I was attempting an escape, I would have used the bow.”

  Orin smiled. “It was more a test of whether you would do it or not.”

  Jonathan shook his head and started toward the trees. “And what did my actions tell you, mighty inquisitor?”

  Orin chuckled. “They tell me that either you had nothing to do with this particular attack, or that you are confident enough in your abilities that you think you could take me on bare handed.”

  Jonathan stopped and turned around to face the inquisitor. “First off, I didn’t plan anything. How could I have even if I had wanted to, and why would I want to? I can’t very well clear our names if I do something like that, no matter how much you might deserve it.”

  “Deserve it?” Orin said.

  “You terrorized my brother, dragged me into an interrogation practically naked, and seem bent on dishonoring anyone I care about,” Jonathan replied. “I’m not going to forget that.”

  “I see,” Orin said. “And what is your second point?”

  Jonathan snickered and eyed the inquisitor from head to toe before grinning and nodding. “If it came down to it, I could take you bare handed, and even if I couldn’t, Griff would finish the job.”

  Orin laughed louder and sheathed his sword. “Come then, let’s go see who is dumb enough to attack us both.”

  Jonathan turned back to the trees and made his way to the fallen archer.

  “No uniform,” Orin stated as they approached. “But he doesn’t look like a highwayman either.”

  Griff came trotting up next to them and stood next to the body as Jonathan bent down and grabbed one of the archer’s shoulders to turn him around to reveal a man with a silver goatee and black hair. His tunic and cloak were in good repair, but he didn’t find any other weapons except for a knife hanging from his belt. Jonathan looked up to the inquisitor and shrugged. “I don’t see a coin purse, so either he is local…”

  “Or he was sent to do a job and expected not to be away from town for long,” Orin finished. “I’m pretty sure it’s the second.”

  Jonathan frowned. “How can you be certain? After all, you thought I was some traitor to the crown.”

  Orin snorted and gave a single nod. “I wouldn’t be so sure of yourself just yet,” he warned. “I may not believe you are a traitor, but that’s only because I don’t know whether you knowingly volunteered to be an accessory to Tray Maloy’s plans, or if he duped you into helping him.”

  “Captain Ziegler is an honest man,” Jonathan said as he rose back to his feet. “I bet my life on it.”

  “Yes, you have,” Orin replied. “For what it’s worth, your brother was handled much more gently. I conducted a brief interview to get his side of the Tanglewood mission and then informed him that he was being released.”

  “Then what about my interview?”

  Orin smiled. “Morgan handled that one all on her own.”

  “Including taking my clothes?”

  Orin nodded. “She thought stripping your uniform might rattle you a bit.”

  “So she did want to see me with my shirt off,” Jonathan jested.

  “I wouldn’t go that far. From what I can gather you made all the wrong kind of impressions so far,” Orin replied.

  “Why are you telling me all this? Is it just a way to bond with the nicer inquisitor?” Jonathan asked directly.

  Orin sighed and glanced back toward Morgan. “Because I think there may be much more to Tray Maloy than anyone else knows, and I am trying to decide where you fall in the larger scheme of things.” Orin waved for Jonathan to follow him. “Come, let’s go and set up camp for a quick meal.”

  “Here? Where we were just attacked?”

  Orin nodded. “Morgan will need to initiate an investigation into this matter. I’ll have her begin working on the preliminary reports and sketches so we can turn the matter over to the authorities in Athenrie before we go across the sea.”

  They walked back toward the horses, where Morgan was already holding a satchel under one arm and a notebook in her other hand.

  “Morgan, there is a single man on the ground where we just were. Would you please go up and take an inventory of his clothes and possessions, describe his appearance, and then sketch his face from the front and from the side?”

  Morgan nodded, a hint of a smile appearing on her face. “Of course, Master Ingbrethsen. Was he related to Jonathan at all?” She turned her eyes to him, but Jonathan only rolled his eyes and sighed.

  “I don’t operate like that,” Jonathan said. “In case you forgot, I am the one who shot him.”

  Morgan shrugged.

  “Do hurry,” Orin said. “I’ll get a bit of food ready for us while you work on that.”

  Morgan dutifully trotted up the hill and into the forest with her supplies.

  “That should buy us about an hour,” Orin said. “Which is just enough for me to ask you a few questions.”

  “I’ve already told you everything,” Jonathan said.

  Orin grabbed some bread and motioned for Jonathan to join him in the grassy clearing on the south side of the road. “May I see your sword?” Orin asked.

  Jonathan drew his sword slowly and presented the weapon to Orin.

  “I have made quite a study of Myrskyn,” Orin said. “I recognized the blade as soon as I saw it, but I am sorry to say that I
expected more from your use of it.”

  “I told you, I don’t know how to make the magic work,” Jonathan said. “But that is Myrskyn, I swear it. I saw Captain Ziegler use its powers.”

  Orin scanned the blade with his eyes and traced a finger along the handle. “It is an exquisite weapon.”

  Jonathan sighed, not really seeing the point of this particular conversation. “Is there something you wanted to ask me?”

  Orin smiled. “Sit next to me,” he said as he laid the sword on the grass. “I have something I want to show you.”

  Jonathan sat next to the inquisitor and watched as the man pulled a small brown leather journal out from a pocket. Orin unbuttoned the clasp and then opened the book, thumbing through the pages methodically.

  “In all your travels in Tanglewood Forest, did you ever see this?” Orin stopped on a page with a drawing. Jonathan froze. Immediately he recognized Reshem’s symbol. It was the same mark that had been sewn into the man’s uniform. “I suspect your reports haven’t been complete,” Orin said pointedly, tapping the symbol on the page.

  Jonathan looked to Orin. “If I said that I couldn’t talk about it, what would you think?”

  Orin grinned. “Then I would know that you have seen Reshem, perhaps even spoken with him, because that is probably what he told you to say.”

  Jonathan glanced up the hill toward Morgan.

  “Relax, she can’t hear us,” Orin said. “One more question,” Orin went on. “Do you know what this is?” Orin pulled a vial with some sort of gold and white powder inside.

  “Not really,” Jonathan said with a shrug. “Should I?”

  “What is the name of the person who gave you Lysander’s bow?” Orin asked.

  “What…er…I…um…” Jonathan fumbled for the words. He hadn’t expected questions like these.

  “You would have met with him at the bottom of the canyon known as Lysander’s Peril,” Orin insisted.

  “How do you know all of this?” Jonathan asked.

  “As chief inquisitor, I have access to all of the archives. I can investigate any military operation large or small, including intelligence missions. Over the years, I have made this particular riddle my own personal investigation. I have been studying everything to do with the Astral Crystal for decades, as I believe the crystal can not only harm our kingdom, but it can cause great harm to the world itself.”

  Jonathan tilted his head and stared at Orin, not sure if he should trust him or not. “What about our current investigation, about my innocence and Tray Maloy’s honor?”

  Orin smiled. “My dear boy, if this was a simple matter of treason and honor, I had more than enough to lock you and your brother away for the rest of your lives. However, when you fought back against Morgan’s interrogation with such…passion, it showed me that this might be my only real chance of solving the greatest riddle of my career. I believe that either you or Tray Maloy dealt with Reshem. Your expression when you looked at the symbol told me as much. So now I must ascertain whether you are on his side, or after the artifacts for your own purposes.”

  “I’m on the right side,” Jonathan said.

  “Perhaps, but there have been many who sought the crystal for their own gain. As you claim yourself, Brykith was one such schemer. I have to be certain that Tray Maloy was not like him.”

  “And how can I trust you?” Jonathan asked pointedly.

  Orin smiled. “Very well.” Orin uncorked the vial and turned the pages of his journal until he came to a loose piece of parchment that had been folded into the book. He opened it, revealing only a single word in what appeared to be Taish, the language of the elves. “Based on what I know, a tall elf by the name of Yaen guarded Lysander’s bow at the bottom of the canyon. You got the bow from him. From there, you likely found the ruins of city that, despite at one time being a beautiful elven settlement, is now left crumbling with scarred and scorched earth around it and possibly even a demon or two still lurking inside the ruins.”

  Jonathan’s heart thumped in his chest, but he kept his mouth closed. How could Orin know exactly where they had been?

  “In that ruined city, you would have found a message left by Jaeger when he fled that city with the Astral Crystal. Jaeger would have given you the location of the Astral Crystal, so you could guard it, as he is now far too old to do it himself, no matter how many ram horns he has.”

  “No,” Jonathan said. “He only told me how dangerous the crystal was. From Jaeger, we went to fight Brykith.”

  “Ah,” Orin said. “So you were not deemed worthy to see the crystal in person?”

  Jonathan shrugged. He remembered well what Reshem had told him the last time they had met. Jonathan would be asked to take the crystal and protect it at some point, but that had not happened yet, and he certainly wasn’t about to disclose that idea to Orin. Just because the chief inquisitor was smart, that didn’t mean he wasn’t more like Brykith than he let on.

  “Silence is all you will give me now, eh?” Orin said with a nod. “So this is where our respective conundrums meet. You aren’t sure you can trust me, and I do not have proof that you can be trusted either.”

  “What I can say, is we never went for the crystal. It’s safe, and there was no reason to go after it once Brykith was killed.”

  Orin flared his hands to his sides and then let them fall upon his legs. “What if I told you that there is more to this case than just the crystal, and whether you or Tray Maloy had any wicked schemes to sell it or take its power? What if I told you that this very same artifact is wrapped with another that could prove just as deadly?”

  “Like what?” Jonathan asked.

  Orin glanced to the sword and then shook his head. “As I said, this is where my trust of you ends. Our investigation will help determine whether I can trust you with the rest of it, but until then you will just have to be on your best behavior.”

  “And what about her?” Jonathan asked, pointing up to the trees where Morgan was still busy working.

  “She does not share my beliefs in the Old Gods. Frankly, she thinks them foolish. By extension, she wouldn’t understand the significance of these artifacts. To be sure, she can grasp magical power and its ramifications easily enough, but you have to understand the metaphysical to truly comprehend the dangers you and Tray Maloy have brought out into the open.”

  Jonathan shook his head. “Captain Ziegler was a good man. He worked to protect the kingdom.”

  “Perhaps,” Orin admitted. “On the other hand, you know what they say about power corrupting people and absolute power corrupting absolutely.”

  “He doesn’t want the crystal for himself, I know that much. You can add to that any other artifact of power.”

  “Yet he took this sword and kept it,” Orin said, pointing to Myrskyn. “If this is indeed Myrskyn, then why did he keep it and flee the kingdom?”

  “It was given to him,” Jonathan answered. “Why should he give it to the king or lock it in some archive somewhere?”

  “And why send it to you?” Orin asked. “That is what I want to know. Either the sword is a forgery or it is authentic, but in either case he sent it to you. Why?”

  Jonathan shrugged. He opened his mouth to rebut the inquisitor’s statements, but then thought better of it and sighed. “I guess I’d like to know the answer to that as well.”

  Orin smiled. “Very well, you have trusted me with some very important secrets that you purposefully omitted from your official reports,” he began.

  “You going to charge me with falsifying the reports now?” Jonathan quipped.

  “Tempting, but then I wouldn’t be able to finish solving this puzzle,” Orin said with a smile. “This vial contains the powdered horn from that albino ram Jaeger used to hide the Astral Crystal.”

  Jonathan looked to the powder and sucked in a breath. “How did you…”

  “Like I said, I have access to most of the kingdom’s secrets. Now, the point is when I pour this powder onto this paper, the
word written here will start to glow. When that happens, put your hand upon the paper and you will see some of the events we have been discussing for yourself.”

  Jonathan looked at the paper uneasily. “How do I know it won’t steal memories from me instead?” he asked.

  Orin smiled. “That is a riddle only you can find the answer to, and if you want it, then you have to come and get it.” Orin poured a small amount of the powdered horn onto the paper and the word began to glow. “So what will it be, Jonathan? Will you reach out and discover the answers for yourself?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Jonathan stared at the glowing word. The letters didn’t just emanate light, they were waving on the page like a flag in the wind, shimmering and inviting him to touch the page. He started to reach out, but then stopped and looked at Orin.

  “If you want me to believe that you are on the right side,” Orin began, “then you will have to come a little closer to trusting in me as well.” Orin glanced up to the trees and then back to Jonathan. “Hurry, the tale it has to show you will take a few minutes. You will be reliving the past in vivid detail, as if you had been a ghost present at that time. You will have limited mobility, but you will gain much wisdom. Take this opportunity now, for you will not get another chance.”

  Jonathan took in a breath and then quickly put his hand to the paper. A ringing formed in his ears, sharp and piercing. His hand felt as though it was rooted to the paper, fully connected with it and impossible to pull away. Then, everything went dark.

  A moment later, a flash of lightning shattered the darkness and Jonathan could see. Instantly he was aware that his body felt different, he had no true corporeal form, as if he was in some sort of dream.

  Another flash of lightning cut the darkness and Jonathan saw two tremendous men standing on a battlefield, conferring heatedly. As he focused on the older of the two, it came into his mind that he was watching Icadion, the creator of the world, and his son Lysander. Though it had come to him from out of the blue, Jonathan trusted the thought, and turned in a slow circle, wondering in amazement at the scene before him. Thunder rolled across the purple and black clouds as an acrid, stale odor permeated the darkened air and Lysander’s chest heaved for breath. Fireballs tore through the atmosphere, roaring as they passed overhead and leaving columns of gray and black smoke in their wake.