Neither Badec nor Laryn spoke for few minutes. Then Laryn said, “Actually, I’ve wondered about doing that too, but we’d have to be really careful. The people we bring over would have to be able to fit in here, to adapt to our way of life, and they would have to be willing to leave Earth for good.”
“We have a duty to protect Terah, too,” Badec said slowly. “We can’t bring over anyone who would use anything he knows to take advantage of anyone here. The people we choose would have to have a strong sense of right and wrong, and they’d have to be incredibly tolerant. But above all, they must be completely and totally loyal to my son.”
“How are you going to find people like that?” Laryn asked Pallor. “It’s not like you can interview candidates or take applications.”
“I know. I’ve been thinking about it a little. Kevin doesn’t have many friends right now, but he still has another couple of years of college. And hopefully he’ll make some friends when he gets out on his own. I’ll check them out and see which ones would be suitable companions. He’s got another five years on Earth. That should be plenty of time.”
Badec shook his head slowly from side to side. “I don’t know. This may be harder than you think. For one thing, the people we bring over can’t have any close family or ties, and they’d have to be pretty dissatisfied with the way their lives are going on Earth to be willing to try something so totally different.”
Pallor nodded. “I still think I can find a few. Five or six maybe. So, do I start looking or not?”
Laryn and Badec looked at each other for a moment, and then Badec nodded.
“Good, but I do have one question,” Pallor said. “They’ll be coming through the Gate, and I’ll have to be on Earth to cover their supposed deaths, so who’ll meet them and explain what’s going on? And who’s going to tell Kevin who he really is?”
Laryn started laughing and said, “Not Kalen.”
“No, not Kalen,” Badec agreed with a smile. “Can you picture him trying to deal with a houseful of humans, much less humans from Earth? No, either Laryn or I will have to be there, maybe both of us if things are reasonably quiet around here.”
“Someone needs to tell Kalen about this though,” Laryn said. “It’s not the type of thing we can spring on him at the last minute.”
“He won’t mind, as long as someone else is handling everything,” Pallor said. “But I can stop by the Gate House before I head back to Earth and tell him if you want me to.”
Badec nodded. “I’d appreciate it. Tell him that I’ll be up to talk to him before we bring them over. We’ll sort out all the details then.”
Pallor nodded and stood up. “Anything else before I leave?”
“Not that I can think of,” Badec said as he handed Pallor the pictures back. “I appreciate you bringing these, but you’d better take them back. I don’t want them around here for someone else to find. It’s rather obvious who he is, and it’s also pretty obvious that’s not Terah in the background. Take care and we’ll see you next year.”
Chapter 6
Saturday, March 3, Present Day
The winter before Myron’s twenty-third birthday had been a particularly dreary one, but the first Saturday of March dawned clear and bright in Trendon, and although the breeze couldn’t really be called warm, there was a touch of spring in the air. To make the day just that bit better to all the people who worked at the castle, it was also the day of the monthly meeting of the Council of Sorcerers, which meant that, for a few hour at least, Rolan, the Seated Sorcerer of Brendolanth, would be gone. Guards relaxed, the maids chatted as they worked, the young pages joked, and laughter could be heard in the halls.
Shortly before lunch, the guard at Rolan’s bedroom door heard him banging around in his room as he changed out of his formal tunic and robes back into his regular clothes. The sorcerer was back.
Hushed whispers quickly spread the word throughout the castle that Rolan had returned. Tension filled the air as conversations stopped mid-sentence and guards snapped to attention.
As Rolan walked down the hall towards his office, the page standing next to his door opened it for him and then stepped aside.
“I don’t want to be disturbed,” Rolan said gruffly as he passed through the open door. “See to it.”
The page nodded and quietly pulled the door to.
Rolan sat down behind his desk and allowed himself a few minutes to gloat. All of his work, all the planning and finagling, was finally going to pay off. Sometime this evening a package would be delivered to the kitchen at Badec’s castle in Milhaven, a gift for the Master Sorcerer, a special tea that no one would ever suspect contained a deadly poison. With any kind of luck, Badec would be dead before the week was out, and best of all, there was absolutely no way it could ever lead back to him.
As soon as Badec was gone, the Master’s Chair would be declared vacant. The Council wouldn’t have any choice. There was only one heir, Badec’s son, Myron, but he hadn’t been seen or heard from since he was born. No one on the council had any idea whether or not he was still alive, but even if he was, he wasn’t old enough to have started training yet, so there was no way he could hold the Master’s Chair. No, Myron wasn’t going to figure into this at all. Badec was all there was.
When Badec died, someone was going to have to act quickly or there was going to be another magic war, and Rolan planned to be that someone. On the day that the seat was declared vacant, which, if everything went according to plan, would be at the next council meeting, Rolan was going to address the Council of Sorcerers and suggest that Damien take the seat.
Damien had several things going for him. For one thing, he was one of the strongest sorcerers on the council, so not too many of the others would be willing to challenge him for the seat. For another, he minded his own business and he let the other sorcerers mind theirs. He’d bend over backwards to avoid any type of conflict, and they all knew it. Third, he got along with the dragons, at least the ones who lived in Calandra, including Glendymere. And that in itself was a major selling point.
Rolan frowned as he thought about his speech to the council that day. It would have to be good, really good. Several of the other sorcerers were going to have their eyes on that chair the second that they heard that Badec was sick, and if he couldn’t convince them to go along with Damien, things could get dicey. A magic war would probably end up killing them all, if not in the actual fighting, in the fallout that would follow, himself included. But it was too late to worry about that now. Things had already been set in motion. He’d just have to be good enough to get everyone to fall in line, including Damien.
At first, Rolan had considered trying to find a way to get himself named Master Sorcerer, but he’d quickly abandoned that plan. There were too many other sorcerers out there as strong or stronger than he was. He wouldn’t survive a week. But putting Damien on that chair would be the next best thing. Once he was seated as Master Sorcerer, the key to the Gate Between the Worlds would be turned over to him, and then it would be within Rolan’s grasp. Damien was a trusting soul. If Rolan approached him just right, he was sure Damien would hand it over without giving it a second thought. And that was the prize. Rolan could almost feel it in his hand.
He smiled as he fantasized about that other world, the one Badec had described to his father all those years ago, in what they had thought was a private conversation. From what he had overheard, it was similar to Terah, but without magic. There wouldn’t be any dragons to stop him or any sorcerers to challenge him. He could do whatever he wanted while he was there and no one would be able to do anything about it. It would be perfect.
He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. His plan was coming together. Another month, maybe two. He could hardly wait.
Chapter 7
Tuesday, March 6, Present Day
Laryn was getting a little uneasy. Badec hadn’t shown up at breakfast, and now, an hour later, he still hadn’t put in an appearance. He hadn’t said anything to
her about an early morning appointment, and he always let her know if he was going to be out of the castle. Finally, she got up from her desk and went upstairs to make sure he wasn’t still in his room.
When she knocked on his door, there was no answer, so she opened the door and stepped inside. A chill ran up her spine when she saw her brother still in bed. She’d never known him to sleep in, not even as a child.
As she approached his bed she noticed that his chest was rising and falling with steady breaths, so the first jolt of panic subsided a bit. Maybe he just had a touch of a cold or something. She felt his forehead, and although it felt fine, no sign of fever, he didn’t open his eyes or do anything at all to imply that he knew someone else was in the room, and with his powers, that was beyond unusual.
Laryn softly called his name as she placed her hand on his wrist, searching for a pulse. It was there, not quite as strong as usual, but definitely there, and steady. Finally she took hold of her brother’s shoulder and gently shook him, hoping to wake him up, but once again, no luck.
Laryn glanced around the room, looking for anything that might give her a clue as to what was going on. His evening tray with one tea cup was on the table beside his chair, just like always, and he had on the same old nightshirt he’d worn to bed for the past ten years. From all appearances, everything had been normal when Badec went to bed last night, but things were definitely not normal now.
After trying once more to rouse her brother, Laryn left his room and went back downstairs to the office. She asked Ariel, one of Badec’s pages, to go to the Chapel of Light in Milhaven and ask Sister Agnes to come up to the castle as soon as possible.
~ ~ ~ ~
That evening, Kalen was in the kitchen of the Gate House when a falcon landed on the kitchen windowsill and pecked on the glass. When Kalen opened the window, the falcon held up his leg for Kalen to untie the note, and then immediately flew away, without even waiting for an answer. As soon as Kalen saw Badec’s seal, a cold knot formed in his stomach. He sat down at the table, took a couple of slow, deep breaths, and opened the letter.
Kalen,
I regret to inform you that Badec seems to be in a coma. He was fine yesterday, but when I tried to awaken him this morning, I could not rouse him. I sent for Sister Agnes, but she was unable to rouse him either. He is breathing regularly and his heart seems to be fine, but he is unresponsive.
If he is not up and about by the beginning of April, I will have to report his condition to the Council of Sorcerers. They will not declare him dead as long as he is breathing, but they will vacate his chair in one year if he does not awaken, or if he is too weak to carry out the duties of Master Sorcerer.
I see no alternative other than to send for Myron immediately. We must get him to Glendymere as soon as possible, yet secretly and safely. I fear for Myron’s life once news of Badec’s condition becomes known.
I realize that we have not discussed plans for Myron’s introduction to Terah, but there is no way that I can leave Milhaven right now. You have my complete support for any plan that you devise. I wish you luck.
I have sent a falcon to Duane with a copy of this message and have dispatched a phoenix with a message for Glendymere. I leave it to you to inform Pallor.
Yours sincerely,
Laryn
Kalen sat staring at the note until midnight. He had to agree with Laryn. Their only option was to send for Myron. Unfortunately, they weren’t ready. It was too soon.
He put in an emergency call to Pallor, went into the living room, lit the fire, and sat down to wait for the elf to pop in. Kalen felt like he had only been staring into the flames for a few minutes when Pallor popped into his living room a couple of hours later.
One look at Kalen’s face and the elf knew something was horribly wrong. Kalen didn’t even seem to know that he was there. Pallor walked to a spot directly in front of the dwarf and asked, “What’s going on?”
Kalen didn’t answer. Instead he handed Pallor Laryn’s note.
Pallor sat down on the edge of a chair and read through the note a couple of times. Finally he said, “I’ll try to have Kevin and some companions on Terah in about two weeks.”
“Who’s going to explain all of this to them? Who’s going to tell Myron what’s going on? Who’s going to tell him that he’s Myron?!”
Pallor stood up, shrugged, and said, “I guess you are.”
“Me?! I can’t do this, Pallor. Someone else is going to have to.”
“Who, Kalen? I can’t. I’ll have my hands full back on Earth explaining what happened to them.”
“But I’ll make such a mess of it.” Kalen’s face was the picture of misery.
Pallor put his hand on Kalen’s shoulder and said, “I’m sorry about all of this. Badec wanted to be here and take care of this himself, but now … Look, just do the best you can, and don’t blame yourself for any of this. No one could have foreseen this.” Pallor handed the note back to Kalen. “Why don’t you send for Duane? Maybe he and Xantha can help. I hate to leave you like this, but I’ve got to go. I’ve got a lot to do.” Then he took out his key, gave it a quick turn, and disappeared.
Chapter 8
Another Search Begins
As soon as Pallor was back on Earth, he was hit with the closest thing to a panic attack that he had ever experienced. There was no way he could have Kevin and six or seven of his friends on Terah within two weeks. He had no idea which of Kevin’s friends would even be suitable. He hadn’t started working on that yet. He was supposed to have at least two more years to figure it out, not two weeks!
Pallor paced around his small office and tried to work his way past the panic. He stopped in front of the window, but nothing out there either relaxed him or gave him any ideas. All he could see were houses, cars, and tall buildings.
Omaha wasn’t all that big when you compared it to places like New York, Los Angeles, or Chicago, but for an elf who loved the outdoors, it was suffocating at times. At least when he was living in Seattle he could see mountains in the distance. Here, nothing but city.
He had moved to Omaha a year ago when Kevin had accepted a job with Beasley, Dixon, Matherson and Co. PA. He had expected to be stuck here for at least a couple more years, but now it looked like his days in Omaha were coming to a close. As soon as he could figure out how to get Kevin and his friends on Terah, he could leave. He could go back to the Seattle area.
That thought alone helped ease the panic. So he took a deep breath, grabbed a pencil and notepad, and sat down at his desk to make a list of Kevin’s friends. As Pallor stared at the notepad, he realized that there was no one to list. Kevin had not made any close friends while he was in college, and, as far as Pallor knew, Kevin had never even made it to first name basis with anyone in Omaha. He would have to send complete strangers to Terah with Kevin. As the panic started to build again, he forced it down and tried to tackle the problem logically.
First, he had to find some suitable candidates. He needed people without strong ties, basically loners, so he began by listing some quiet restaurants in the area that would appeal to loners. Then he added a few coffee shops near the college where the more independent types hung out.
Next, he listed several of his contacts who would have information on new arrivals in town. Maybe he’d luck up on someone who was a drifter, working at odd jobs, seeing the country one piece at a time, a modern day explorer.
After that, he picked up a stack of old newspapers that had piled up on the floor beside his desk and started going through them. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he made notes on anything that caught his eye. A couple of hours later he had found a few articles that he wanted to check out, but only one that really tweaked his interest.
On the sports page of a week-old paper, there was a follow-up article about a college football player who had been injured in a game a few months ago. The thing that caught Pallor’s attention was a quote from the young man: “Football is my life. There’s nothing else.
I can’t even imagine my life without it.”
According to the article, the doctors would soon know how successful they had been at trying to save his career. Pallor made a note of the athlete’s name, his coach’s name, and the orthopedic surgeon in charge of his case.
Wednesday morning, he began calling his contacts. One was a woman in a real estate office that managed several apartment complexes. After they joked around about his only calling when he wanted something, Pallor said, “I’ve got a character who’s going to have to pick up, move across the country, and take a new job in a strange city. I want to talk to someone who’s doing that to get a better feel for my character. Do you have anyone moving in soon who would fit the bill?”
“Give me a couple of hours to look through the new rentals,” she answered. “Male or female? Or does it matter?”
Pallor paused for a moment. “My character’s male, so maybe I’d better stick to males.”
“Okay. Do you want someone who’s already moved in? We had a few who took possession over the weekend.”
“I’d rather get his thoughts when he arrives, as he’s moving in, but I guess I could work with someone who hasn’t been here long.” Pallor said. “But I don’t want him to know he’s being interviewed. I need his real reactions, so don’t tell anyone.”
“Don’t worry,” she said with a little laugh. “I don’t want to lose my job. But you owe me! Again. Call me back this afternoon,” she said, and then she disconnected.
The Master's Chair (The Chronicles of Terah) Page 8
