Talismans

by Lisa Lowell

  “We will make Stylmach suffer for this. I hope Wise Ones are allowed to kill him for his presumption,” Owailion promised.

  Raimi nodded agreement. “I refuse to be the means of bringing destruction on the Land. I will not let this curse affect all I love.”

  And so, the three of them began plotting.

  Chapter 20 – Remembered and Forgotten

  Raimi had to sleep. She could not fight it. The magician might have demanded it but this time she did not resist sleep, knowing she would have a dream she did not want to have. However, this time Owailion hovered in the background of her mind and they would try to turn a necessity into an advantage. Raimi remained in Imzuli's cavern, probably the safest place in the Land for her right now, and her husband and the dragon watched over her.

  “You tricked me, witch!” was Stylmach's first comment as the dream ship drifted close to her. This time the setting was again on a river, but now the stream ran right through the silver cavern's walls and out again on the far side. The ship somehow managed to fit inside even though this defied logic. “The Heart Stone does not work,” Stylmach accused. “It only burns me. It did nothing for my powers. I cannot even hold it.”

  “Powers?” Raimi tried not to express the private pleasure of having her tormenter suffer. “I never claimed it would give magical powers. I told you it was a Wise One's conscience. It is a judge and a focus, nothing more. It cannot make you a Wise One. God made me a Wise One, not some Heart Stone.”

  “You…it…,” Stylmach's voice spit with fury. “You lied. You said it would block me from doing name magic or any of the magic you term evil.”

  Raimi had not considered this and it almost surprised her. How could the Heart Stone inhibit her from lying and yet allow this magician to do such vile manipulation? Then her Wise One instincts kicked in. “The stone is a judge only. It sees you, judges you for the pathetic excuse for humanity that you are and allows you to reach that potential, capable of evil magic. That is all.”

  Stylmach sputtered again before he managed to spit out something in response. “Evil magic? Well, I've got news for you, witch. You're the one who is going to be doing evil magic. Raimi, I am going to have you destroy the Land. You are going to pick apart your beloved nation piece by piece. You're going to give it all to me and nothing you can do will stop me. Raimi, come to me.”

  She felt the tug, pulling her against the wall of the cavern. “How? This is a dream,” she insisted, for her conscious mind could not pass through solid matter if she were still asleep.

  “Step into the river, toward the ship. I will do the rest. Come to me Raimi.”

  Raimi opened her physical eyes. Owailion's spell of wakefulness had worked. She could pretend to be asleep but Stylmach would not know that she was perfectly capable and aware. But she still must be obedient to the command the sorcerer had given. She reached down, picked up her carefully loaded pack with the pipes in it, leaving the bowl with Owailion and took the required steps forward into the impossible river. She saw the barely contained fear in Owailion's eyes as Stylmach's magic grasped her and pulled her forcefully to his ship.

  Her first impressions were she was awake and violently ill. Her seasickness spell had worked a little too well. The rolling of the deck under her feet startled her into opening her eyes and then losing her last meal onto the rough boards.

  “It isn't very nice, is it?” Stylmach's actual physical voice sounded even harsher than she expected as she dropped to the deck retching and all she could see of her enemy was his elegantly booted feet. He let her suffer on her hands and knees until she was empty and then shoved a bucket of dank water at her and she made use of it by scooping a few mouthfuls to at least rinse out the taste. Only then did she struggle to her feet to face him.

  Stylmach looked like an ordinary man; brown hair, hazel eyes and a magician's robe over a sea-man's clothing. The ship now appeared manned, but with most of the crew giving them a wide berth. Raimi looked about her and saw no sign of shore. She shivered with fear at what limits might restrict her here. Did she possess her magic this far away from the Land and without her Heart Stone? Fortunately she still felt Owailion's presence in the back of her brain gentling her fear, helping her remain positive.

  “Where have you brought me?” she demanded, glaring at the sorcerer.

  “Raimi, you will not use magic against me. You will not contact anyone who remains in the Land. And Raimi, you will do exactly what I tell you to do.” Stylmach immediately reset his restrictions, and then he added to her question, “You are far from the sources of your power. If you are truly a Wise One you should not be able to tap into your powers. They are meant strictly for the Land. The stones Imzuli brought me claim as much.”

  “And you're using name magic on me,” she noted bitterly. “How did an outlander like you find my name?” It was something that concerned them greatly when the three of them planned this confrontation. If they had to strip her name from every soul on the planet it was going to be more difficult than just dealing with Stylmach.

  The sorcerer chuckled. “That was easy. I took the stones from your pet dragon and then I shared them with my master who was following a certain priest. While there your Owailion visited the priest and spoke your name. I followed him back as my master dealt with the priest and found you with him. You don't remember, but we have now had several conversations. You have shared a great deal with me about how Heart Stones and how Wise One magic is used.”

  Raimi felt a sense of relief; no one in the Land had betrayed her although she could feel Owailion's fury lurking along their link. He would understand at least now why Enok had died.

  Stylmach went on. “Imzuli made a deal with me before. Perhaps she will trade with me again. I would rather have a pet dragon then a pet magician…although you are quite lovely,” Stylmach added and Raimi felt like retching again. He drew close to her, bringing his hand along her jaw line and she was tempted to bite him, but she didn't want a physical restriction as well as a magical one placed on her so she just swallowed. She easily sensed Owailion resisting the temptation to come and wipe the smirk off the sorcerer's face with an avalanche, but not yet; not while her name remained in Stylmach's grasp. “Yes, quite lovely.”

  “What do you want of me?” she reiterated, hoping to speed up this distressing conversation. She felt Owailion struggling to not intervene.

  “Isn't that obvious?” replied Stylmach and then looked out at the spring sky as if he had grown suspicious of someone listening in on them. “Come with me Raimi,” and he drew his hand down her arm, sending her shivers of revulsion and then he grasped her hand. He led her to the hatch and down into the ship's hold. Toward the back of the ship he had a state room with fine furniture, a huge bed set with silk coverings and even thick glass windows so that he could see the ocean beyond the ship. It probably had been the captain's cabin but Stylmach had commandeered it for his own purposes.

  Stylmach ordered her to sit in a finely carved chair with velvet cushions and he poured blood-red wine for them both. When she did not take the glass he offered, he drank anyway without forcing her to partake. It would probably just come back up on her anyway. The seasickness had not abated. Instead she glared at him until he set the goblet back down and then sat in a second chair.

  “I want power. I could get it from demons but then they control me, which is worse than not having what I want. You have power but it still eludes me how you tap into it. Do I have to make it inside the Seal to use the Heart Stone? Raimi, answer me.”

  “No,” she replied flatly. “Being inside the Seal will change nothing for you.”

  “Can you do magic outside the Seal? Far away from your ley lines?” he continued as if her magic were a game of twenty questions.

  She felt Owailion's curiosity. He had not heard of ley lines either, even in the Memories and Imzuli confirmed that she too had not heard of them. So Raimi asked the obvious question, “Ley lines?” Asking also provided a desperate attempt to avoi
d revealing that she could do magic anywhere, no matter how far from the Land she might be.

  Stylmach huffed impatiently at her ignorance of his type of magic. “The veins where magic flows. Surely you can sense them. The reason I can do magic at all here at sea is because I have a map of the ley lines that are under the ocean's bed and that is more than most sorcerers can claim.” He seemed inordinately proud of this fact, assuming it made him more powerful than his fellows.

  Raimi remained tight lipped about her thoughts on his ley lines but Stylmach was expecting a reply. “I don't sense the ley lines, but then, I am very new to magic.” Perhaps that would misguide him enough to forget his question about her ability to do magic out here at sea. “You want my power so you can show your fellows a magic puppet? What good is that?”

  “My fellows?” Stylmach shook his head in wonder. “No, you must be new at magic to not know that. I cannot even safely pull your strings without others hearing your name and taking over. I simply crave power no others can control. All sorcerers compete. If they saw me manipulating you, they would come after me in other ways and I detest looking over my shoulder. No, my mentor suspects I found you but no one else must know. That is why I want beyond the Seal. If I am the most powerful magician in the Land, no one can challenge me, not even my mentor. So I ask, can you bring down the Seal and then put it up again? Answer me truthfully, Raimi.”

  She felt the slamming jerk of the compulsion and she snarled back at him. “I told you, a Wise One cannot lie. You don't have to force me to be honest. And I don't know about the Seal. It is something the dragons built, so it is based on their magic, not a human's. If it comes down it is likely to stay down.”

  Stylmach did not look happy about this news. He growled under his breath, stood, poured another glass of wine, threw it back in one long gulp and then walked to the back of the cabin to look out the windows, as he feared a spying ship trailing them.

  To distract his plotting Raimi began her own questioning. “What is the Seal to you?” she asked, exploring his goals and interests. “If you are strong enough to get inside, you obviously are powerful enough to not worry about outsiders attacking, even if there is no Seal?” she asked.

  Raimi could not interpret the look he gave her; pity, amusement, disgust? She couldn't tell, but he returned to his chair in front of her. “You really don't understand power, do you? If no one knows you have it, it's worth nothing. If I break the Seal and rule the Land I will have to defend it and I don't want to deal with that. The people and resources within the Seal are mine to control and the sorcerers outside need to look in jealously, seeing but never touching. I want what you have Raimi; complete control with no competition. I bet, other than dragons, there are very few magicians on the other side of the Seal.”

  Raimi sat there for a bit, staring at him, wondering how to react. Then she burst out laughing at his ignorance. “You are a fool!” she mocked him. “You think there are riches, people ready to worship you and magic dropping from the trees like fruit? It is the other way around. I don't have a single thing of value except love on the other side of that Seal. I have been sleeping on the ground or in someone else's home since the day I arrived. Almost everything I own is in my pack,” she explained. Her mention of the bag only encouraged him to do the one thing she wanted him to try.

  Stylmach's eyes turned toward the pack on her back. “Give your bag to me, Raimi,” he ordered. She didn't fight too much, just a token snarl before she slipped her satchel off her shoulder and handed it over to him. He looked inside and then poured the contents onto the table unceremoniously. She had packed it carefully with everything she wanted him to find, hiding the things not for Stylmach's eyes. Out for display a simple tin plate and cup, a wooden spoon, wool blanket and a warm jacket. She even had a belt knife and a spare skirt, but little else of value except for the exquisite set of reed pipes that just happened to land on top of the other items.

  “Raimi, you didn't tell me. Are you a musician?” He picked up the pipes and examined them thoroughly. “There is a spell on them, I can tell.”

  Her heart fell. Their plan would not work unless she was able to play for him.

  “They are lovely,” he commented as if he wanted a set for himself. “Raimi, tell me how you got them?”

  That was a question she actually wanted to answer. At least Stylmach wasn't going to shatter them before she got a chance to explain. “My husband gave them to me. He made them.”

  “Your husband? Oh yes, Owailion. You did manage to get married then. Tell me about your husband, Raimi.”

  This compulsion she fought with all her might, spitting the words out between her teeth as if she was going to scratch his eyes out for asking. “He is the first Wise One. He is the King of Creating. He builds the palaces and he makes things…all kinds of things like pipes and bowls and tools.”

  “Is Owailion his real name?” Stylmach asked casually.

  “No, and before you ask, I don't know his given name. He doesn't either. He wasn't born in the Land, but was brought here as an adult, with no memories of his former life.”

  “So why do you know what your name is if you also came with no other memories like he did?” Stylmach asked.

  Raimi shrugged. “Bad luck? Everything I try to do goes awry. I am cursed that way.”

  Stylmach seemed to grow irritated and admitted, “I suppose I am cursed that way as well. It is always bad to be under the control of those who came before.” Then his eyes drifted as if he were drawn once again to the pipes he was fingering. He obviously felt attracted to power and sensed the intensity of it. Owailion's spell also subtly enforced this from afar. “How were these pipes made, Raimi?”

  She sighed with false exhaustion, as if she were now resigned and not fighting him anymore. Indeed Raimi did not fight answering this for it fed Stylmach's desires. “Owailion heard the reeds were 'going demon' and stopped them by putting them into this form, channeling the magic into something else. That is one of a Wise One's duties; prevent demon formation.”

  “Really? I always thought demons came from the Other side. Perhaps that is where you send them when you are done battling them if they manage to go all the way into being demons. So what do these pipes do?”

  “They made me a musician,” she commented since there was no compulsion. She didn't have to tell him all they did. “I don't remember being musical, but it came naturally when I first played them.”

  “And would it do the same thing for me?” Stylmach asked speculatively.

  “I really do not know,” Raimi admitted. Privately she hoped it did make Stylmach musical enough to wipe his memory. At least she had managed to reveal only one of the pipe's capabilities and Stylmach had not yet insisted that she continue. “Please, play them,” she wished though the magic wish was powerless to affect him. The mandate to not cast any spell on him still held strong.

  But curiosity was stronger still. Stylmach put the reeds to his lips and blew through them experimentally. When nothing magical happened, other than a simple pure tone gliding through the air, he set his hands over more stops and then began to play. The sorcerer's song reflected his roots; evil and unctuous. It felt like something might come creeping up behind them unseen and attack. Raimi fought the spell of the music by chanting a silent spell over herself.

  “Raimi, you will not hear the song. Raimi, you will not forget. Stylmach will forget my name but I will not forget the plan. The river has passed and will never be the same again. It is in the past. It is all new. Raimi will not forget the plan.”

  “Good girl, Raimi,” Owailion whispered into her mind and she could hear the tension in his voice.

  Stylmach played the entire song before he showed any sign of a change. He blinked, looked over at her and then brought the pipes down in abrupt fear. Raimi stood up and realized with a start that she had changed into her royal clothing, but with some added details. She now wore a breast plate of bronze, inlayed with gold, emeralds and sapphires over the sil
k gown that had turned a coppery green, almost aflame. In her hand she held a fishing spear with a wicked bronze hook at its tip. Her hair, loose under her crown dripped with water like she had just come ashore.

  “Who…?” the sorcerer stammered.

  Before Stylmach could say anything more she spoke for him. “I am the Queen of Rivers and I have come to strip my name from you.” She had not forgotten! It had worked. She had to remind herself constantly but she remembered the plan.

  “And I am her husband, the King of Creating,” Owailion announced as he appeared in the cabin, wearing his royal costume under etched steel armor. “You will surrender your mind to her.”

  Stylmach might have forgotten the one trump card he held, her name, but that did not mean he was powerless. He threw a bolt of pure power at Owailion who deflected it with a thought and the glass windows shattered. The fine furniture exploded into bits.

  “You will not,” Stylmach snapped, and held up the pipes that he still had not relinquished, threatening to smash them. He brought a hammer into being, ready to strike.

  Just then the weight of a white and silver dragon landing on the prow pushed them all around, making the seasickness critical. It would not do to vomit all over her regalia so Raimi reiterated; “You will give me the pipes or we will crush your ship. There is a dragon on deck and she will have no qualms about setting you afire along with the entire crew. You will give me the pipes and allow me to remove your entire memory or you will die.”

  Anger rippled through the ship but Stylmach's most powerful shield could not withstand the Wise Ones' attack. His mind fell open to them and revealed that he barely recalled his goal; to get into the Land without shattering the Seal.

  “You are from the Land?” Stylmach asked desperately. He finally guessed at least where these two glorious magicians had come from. He felt certain he should know who he was battling.

  “We are the Wise Ones, guardians of the Land and you have taken things that do not belong to you. The rune stones, a Heart Stone and a name,” Owailion announced, his dark eyes glittering like obsidian.