The Bearer of Secrets (Dark Legacy)

by Kyle Belote

  Judas rolled his eyes. “She, Julie, the girl, a Wcic. Why would anyone try so hard to kill her? What is she worth? Who profits from her death?”

  “I don’t think they were after her,” Meristal said, thoughtful.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think it’s a pretense to catch you off guard. You are the target; you have been all along, but now you will do anything to protect her, thinking she is the real target. It will leave you vulnerable.”

  Judas shook his head. “That’s absurd!”

  “Is it? If you were my enemy, this is what I would do: something to lower your defenses so I can kill you.”

  He snorted. “Given it much thought, have you?”

  “Yes,” she intoned, voice deadpan. “I always had what-if scenarios in case you went rogue.”

  Judas wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her comments, but her voice and visage gave him pause.

  By the stars and spirits, she’s serious. I’d never go bad!

  Meristal returned her thoughts and eyes to Julie, who lay on the floor, pale and sweaty. “I need to remove her clothes. When I draw the poison out, the liquid will pool. If it soaks into her robes, it could get back into any of her wounds. And I need to pull the glass out of her back.”

  “Glass?”

  “Shades Judas! Do you even pay attention? She’s got dozens of shards in her back. Probably from the window. Help me,” Meristal chided, reaching for the sash that held her robes closed.

  Judas shook his head and backed away. “I can’t.”

  “You’ve seen a woman naked before,” Meristal countered, scoffing at him. “Fine! You don’t have to help, but you can’t leave the room, I may need you later.”

  Judas turned away just as Meristal exposed Julie’s breasts. He took a chair on the opposite side of the room, his back to them, the most privacy he could give them under the circumstances. Meristal didn’t understand. Julie was more than an apprentice, but a bastion for old wounds, buried memories, and a daily reminder of his daughter taken from him. Now that Meristal was here to help, he didn’t need to subject himself to keeping her alive and healing her. Had Meristal never arrived, he would abandon all propriety to save her, but now, a boundary rallied within him, one he wasn’t willing to cross. He shook his head to clear it.

  The thought of someone hunting the Wcic and not him made little sense. He was by far the greater threat. He had defeated the Dark Lord; unless, of course, Xilor was aware of her presence, that would make sense. If Judas’ old nemesis stirred and he thought Julie allied against him, Xilor would seek to level the odds. The Dark Lord was ever so fond of checks and balances. Everything had a reason, a purpose, and executed with precision. Judas realized their possessions remained in Dlad City. He asked Meristal for leave to gather their belongings.

  “Just hurry back,” she growled, haste cutting her words.

  Judas complied with her request, returning moments after he left, with his and Julie’s possessions in tow. A flash of copious flesh was enough to avert his eyes, hiding his peripheral vision behind his hand and a curtain of long hair. He returned to the vacated chair, facing away from Meristal and Julie. Not long after, Meristal requested his aid, and he lent it. She did not siphon his essence. A steady trickle of energy poured into her, bolstering her waning essence. All magic came with a cost. Conducting finite healing like Meristal did would tax her at almost double.

  The warlock sat in silence and he pulled the leather-bound manuscript from his traveling pack. His master’s work lay still in his lap. Judas never understood the language, the strange archaic scrawling throughout the book, no matter how many times he looked at it. But it was important to his master and therefore to him. He would go to his grave trying to fulfill his master’s dying wish. It was all he had left of his master: his last words and an old volume.

  “You shall never glimpse the pages, but can you understand the Bearer of Secrets is not a foe? You are entrusted with a special task–my greatest pupil–will you search out the Bearer for the rest of your life? You will do this! My faith is placed correctly, yes?”

  The memory brought back a fondness Judas missed, remembering the gnomling.

  “I’m done,” Meristal declared some time later, her voice careworn.

  Judas stood, closing the book and glancing between his charge and the kneeling woman beside her. Meristal was covered in blood, her hair tousled, and bone weary. “Thank you, Meristal,” he said, his words slow, laden with gratitude.

  She nodded and held up a bloodstained hand. He crossed the room and helped her up. “You look tired. Please,” he offered, hand pointed to the bed, “catch some sleep.”

  Meristal shook her head, a languid movement. “Nice try. I got two rooms. I’ll go to mine as I am not fit to teleport back home tonight.”

  “As you wish.”

  “You might want to put her in the bed, though.”

  “It will be done.”

  She opened the door and stepped through, and once almost shut, Meristal stuck her head back in. “Judas?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You owe me.”

  “Put it on my tab.”

  “I’ll be coming to collect soon.”

  The door shut behind her, soft and light.

  His apprentice loomed into his drooping sight. Sleepiness tugged and called to him as well. Reaching out for his essence, he lifted Julie up and moved her to the bed. He honed in on the chair beside the bed, resumed his vigil with the gnomling’s book in his lap. It was still hours till dawn, and he needed his rest as much as Julie.

  Moments later, he too, drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  Chapter 18 : Julie

  A warm blackness comforted her, a hazy sensation buzzing through her head. Eyes opened cautiously, greeted by a harsh brightness. She squinted against the early morning glare of sunlight filtering through ivory curtains.

  I thought they were cyan?

  Her eyes moved to the figure beside her bed. Judas stared intently at a book in his lap. For a moment, either because she had just woken up or she wasn’t quite coherent, she could have sworn the glyphs moved, dancing in her waking eyes. The thought was preposterous. Muted sounds returned, becoming sharper as if her ears were stopped up. The crackling of the fire serenaded her. Birds chirped in the distance, bright and cheerful.

  The warlock’s azure eyes flickered to her, and he smiled, snapping the book shut. His warm voice crackled with life. “Good morning. Glad you’re coming along just fine, now. Gave us quite the scare last night.”

  A woman’s voice spoke up in the distance. “Is she awake?” Worry drenched the voice.

  “Yes, she is,” he called over his shoulder.

  Julie stirred in her bed, opening her eyes wider, trying to sit up.

  “This isn’t my room.”

  “No. We moved during the night. Welcome to Cape Gythmel.”

  “Why?”

  “What can you tell me about last night, my dear?”

  “I went downstairs,” she stated, the memories crawling back. “I was hungry.” In a flash, she remembered the handsome young man and the desires calling to her. Her will crumbling as his hand gently caressed her flesh. She omitted this. “I got some food and returned to my room. I remember a light outside and went to the window and saw a building on fire and went to get you.”

  “Anything else?” Judas asked, leaning forward in his chair.

  “The building was shaking, my window broke, and there was someone or something else that came to my room.”

  “What did this person look like?”

  Julie’s face bunched up as she tried hard to remember. “Large. Shadowed, the edges blured, distorted. It grabbed me by the throat. Its face kept changing, obscured. One face I saw clearly was feline, like a cat, but bigger.” She shook her head. “I felt something here,” she spoke in a rush, moving her hands down to her abdomen’s left side. “My clothes, these aren’t my clothes. Where are my clothes?” Judas leaned back
in his chair while a movement caught her gaze. A woman stood from the long chair, moving over to his side.

  She had vibrant shoulder-length hair, dark orange, almost red, amethyst eyes and pale, porcelain skin. She was short, probably the same height as Julie was but hard to tell from the bed. Her frame was petite, smaller in the waist and her bosom bigger.

  “I took the liberties,” the other lady informed, her voice soft and sweet.

  Judas cleared his throat. “Julie, this is my lifelong friend Madam Meristal Raviils. She helped me last night.”

  “Helped?”

  “They stabbed you, child,” the older woman stated.

  “Right where you thought they did,” Judas finished, pointing at Julie’s stomach. Julie looked down at her stomach, but she found no trace of the wound. “Meristal healed you.”

  A puzzled expression formed on the young woman’s face. “I am not ungrateful, but why didn’t you?”

  “Oh,” Meristal hummed happily in her throat, “you were right, she is a quick one.”

  Judas chuckled. “Healing is an art form, much like painting. Meristal is better for such things. My gifts lie in a different direction.”

  “Why was I attacked? What about the fire?”

  Judas’ mouth moved, and Meristal shifted her feet. They looked at each other before speaking. “We are of different minds on this.”

  “I think your assassination attempt was a distraction,” Meristal informed. “The real target was Judas, but he was not in his room. He went to investigate the fires, and a good thing, too. Dlad City was under siege by vampires.”

  “Attacked?”

  “A small group,” Judas acknowledged, waving her worry away. “Nothing like a battle, more of a skirmish. But yes, I was not in my room.”

  “When they couldn’t find him, I think they came after you,” Meristal finished.

  “I have no doubt whoever assailed you is part of the people hunting us.”

  “Any ideas on who?” Julie inquired, hoping he had an inkling.

  “A few. Xilor’s minions or an apprentice I do not know about. Ralloc, too; a Council member was in Dlad City last night, and after I had disarmed him, I went to Ralloc and sort of … embarrassed the Consul. So, possibly them as well.”

  “You went to Ralloc? I thought you said the capital wasn’t safe!”

  “I couldn’t sit idly by while a member tortured a goblin.” He sighed. “Anyways, I returned and found you on the floor in your room. I called for Meristal, and she came and healed you.”

  “You forget that I changed her clothes. Judas wouldn’t have anything to do with that,” Meristal chimed in, a tightlipped smile forming.

  Julie sent the woman a look of gratitude and a small smile curved at the corner of her mouth. A thought crossed her mind, and she turned her attention back to her master. “What about the thing that attempted my life, the shifting faces and the cat-like aspects?”

  The warlock took a deep breath. “I have a theory. Whoever it was used the curse from the Derengi branch, which brings out your worst fear; few know the branch, fewer would stoop low enough to use that pestilence. The only known counter to Derengi, oddly enough, is my own affinity, Rumigul. I digress. Since afflicted with amnesia, your worst fears are yet realized, but I have a suspicion you once were afraid of an animal looking much like cats.”

  “Cats?” Meristal chided Judas.

  “Big cats,” Judas clarified, waving his arms for emphasis.

  “Wait! You’re telling me I was attacked by a hallucination?” Julie interrupted.

  “Yes and no,” Meristal offered. “The person was real but came as a hallucination.”

  “The Derengi curse allows the receiver to visualize something they greatly fear, and the subsequent attack masked their true presence. I wanted to bring the weapon but left it in the event they could trace the weapon through magic. If the blade were in our possession, it would be like a beacon to our location. The attacker came close to you and stuck the knife into your stomach before leaving you for dead, which was good as you are still alive.”

  “Good? I nearly died, and you say good?”

  “Of course good! Unbeknownst to your attacker, you possess an affinity to heal.”

  “What’s so special about Derengi?” Julie asked, rubbing her eyes.

  “Derengi is an afflicting magic, capable of spreading diseases and afflictions not only of the body but the mind and soul.”

  “I don’t follow, about me being a healer. I can barely call my essence.”

  Meristal chided Judas. “Judas, speak in full, simple terms. She doesn’t understand. She’s not inept, just not educated.”

  Judas huffed, swept his long hair past his ears and scooted forward in his chair. “Your wand was made with the wing of a fairy and a tress of hair from a unicorn. Of all in Ermaeyth, those two races bear the highest affinity for healing. You and the fairies share a bond, and they will give you life and aid as long as they are alive. Even if they all died and only one survived, as long as one fairy lived, you would, too, barring something catastrophic like decapitation or worse.”

  “The fairies kept you alive; the hair of Staell augmented that,” Meristal explained.

  “I remember Staell saying something about healing when he gave me his hairs for my wand. Is that what he meant by me being a healer?”

  “In short, yes. You have a greater ability to heal yourself, to fight off disease and infections or even afflictions from spells,” Meristal admitted, sliding into the conversation with ease. She held herself with ease, a tranquility Julie knew she would never attain. The woman seemed at peace. Julie couldn’t help but be captivated by her charismatic charm. Even her smiles seemed wholesome and special, just meant for her. “Once you learn to harness your essence properly, you can direct your healing energies to others, healing them with the slightest touch. If what Judas says about your aura is true, perhaps you will be strong enough to heal without touching them and heal from a distance.” Her smile widened. “I would be very interested in witnessing the achievement.”

  “Is that possible?”

  Meristal nodded.

  Julie turned her eyes back to Judas. “Who can cast these Derengi spells?”

  “Aren’t you always the investigator? The attacker could be anyone with enough potential to invoke the curse. It would be simpler to find out who can perform Derengi, and how they learned, and who instructed them. Beasts and sentient beings of the Realm control a natural presence about them similar to the spell. Wizards can mimic but with difficulty. What is natural for creatures becomes sinister in the hands of a mage. Again, I hold to the belief of an unknown agent of Xilor.”

  “So a creature? Can we track them down?”

  Judas shook his head. “I didn’t bring the blade with me, but that doesn’t mean I did not inspect the weapon. The knife was of centaur origin, but they couldn’t have orchestrated the attempt because their magical skills are far too feeble. And there are other obvious reasons, I might add. We shouldn’t rule out more than one culprit, either. Perhaps a team, a goblin to formulate the affliction and a wizard to carry out the deed. Never rule anything out.”

  “So, how do we find out?”

  “Well, we don’t, and we do. We must find out who would profit the most from your death. You might scare wizards because they are uncertain of you–you are something new and strange–but wouldn’t be a reason for them to want your death. The centaurs hold tightly to their strong prejudices against everything, most of them, at least. You are still too young in training to be a threat. Goblins, I would almost rule out as improbable but not impossible. With the vampire attack last night, I am more inclined to lean towards that theory. They are agents of the Dark Lord and cultivate that unique ability, a side effect of their creation using alchemy and Derengi. The pieces fit together almost too perfectly for coincidence, but they are unaware of your existence.

  “Dwaven, unicorns, and elyves, we can rule out because they are not violent unless p
rovoked. Fairies don’t apply because of the bond between the Elder fairy and you, marking you the Head of Creatures. Sheols, saricrocians, and gorrillians we can also rule out. When a sheol is spotted, the alarm is sounded and everyone bands together to hunt them down. Most cities and villages invoke spells and wards to trap them if they came too close to civilization. Saricrocians and gorrillians are too large to fathom even.”

  “Gorrillians and saricrocians?”

  Judas was about to go into an explanation when Meristal cut him off with a gesture of her hand. “A lesson you can have on the way, Judas. Now we need to get her ready and get you two on the road. Don’t fill her head with conspiracy theories.”

  “I wasn’t–”

  She cut him off again. “More important than branches of magic, murder weapons, and creatures … who knew you were in Dlad City? Who could track you down?”

  The warlock grew pensive. “Staell, you, and a few dozen people at the inn.”

  “Todd,” Julie added, her voice small. Meristal arched a thin, attractive eyebrow at her, a smirk of knowing on her face, but the smile faded when she turned her attention back to Judas. “You let that buffoon know you were in Dlad City? He could be the one who assailed Julie!”

  Judas rolled his eyes, and Julie tried to shrink back in her pillow, sensing an argument arising. “The buffoon as you said can hardly cast the spell to make his quill scratch out the words said. He uses journey stones to travel.”

  Meristal shrugged. “So?”

  “If he can’t teleport, and uses journey stones, he doesn’t command the power to call on Derengi. An improbable impossibility! Where would he receive such training? That would take years to master, Ages, and he is scarcely out of school for an Era.”

  Meristal held up a hand to cut him off. “Fine Judas, fine! You are far too trusting. It’ll be your downfall.”

  “Are you saying you don’t want me to trust you?”

  Meristal rolled her eyes. “I think you know me better than everyone else combined, and I know you far better than any journalist would ever dream of uncovering.” Her voice dropped lower, softer. “Do you forget how many times I was by your side? Burying loved ones, surviving friends, in battle, in–” she stopped suddenly, a look of hurt coming to her watering eyes.