Red Jade: Book 1: Journeys In Kallisor

by Stephen Wolf

  Gabrion eyed the two of them suspiciously. “So then you do know each other?”

  Kitalla laughed. “Hardly. But while you were fighting Jafflin, this one made a deal with me. It was interesting enough for me to explore, so here I am. Lucky for you.”

  “You had time for chitchat?” Gabrion was aghast.

  “Recall, I was tied to the horse that started jumping around,” Dariak noted. “When I freed myself, I fell, and there she was. It was bargain or die, really.”

  Kitalla didn’t like the sound of that. “You do intend to hold to that bargain, don’t you?”

  The mage groaned. “Take the daggers out of your eyes, miss. I will. You have an interesting gift, and I’m curious about helping you advance it.”

  “Ah, the bargain that benefits us both.” She nodded. “Shrewd.”

  Gabrion was annoyed, however. “I don’t care much for what you two have worked out.”

  “You asked,” Dariak reminded him.

  Gabrion ignored him and changed the subject. “Kitalla, where are we? Is this truly safe?”

  “It’s Bostian’s house, actually. Oh,” she said to the blank faces that greeted her upon the use of her friend’s name. “Bostian was the big guy your horse mutilated.”

  “I—I’m sorry,” Gabrion said with sadness in his voice.

  She debated holding a grudge but decided that Bostian was dead and these two were with her at the moment. Suddenly Poltor’s lack of emotion at Bostian’s demise seemed like an act of prudence, not coldness. “We ambushed you. In the end, I suppose it was our fault he died. I must say, though, that was a well-trained horse.”

  “He belonged to my mentor,” came Gabrion’s haunted response.

  Dariak made a face, knowing that the mentor’s death was his responsibility. He looked at Gabrion wordlessly, wondering what the warrior was thinking.

  Gabrion turned to look Dariak directly in the eye. They held their gazes for a while as the warrior debated his ghosts. He broke away and shook his head. “I can’t figure any of this out,” he admitted. “If I make a tally of all the times you’ve wronged me and compare it to the times you’ve helped me, the balance is somewhere in the middle.”

  “I beg to differ,” the mage interjected. “You’re alive, so I’m clearly on the upper hand.”

  Gabrion’s jaw tensed, but then he forced himself to relax. “I still don’t understand you. But, yes, I’m still alive because of you. You could have left me back there.” He stopped talking, but the others could tell he had more to say, so they waited for Gabrion to put the words together. The warrior looked from one to the other but spent most of his focus on the mage.

  It felt like hours before Gabrion resolved his heart and his mind. He stepped in front of Kitalla and said, “You were fighting for your life, and you ambushed us so you could live. I don’t agree with your method, but in the end, you came through for us both. Even if you’re just following your own ambition, you fought hard to get us out of that mess and to bring us here to safety. You could have just dropped to the ground and pretended we hit you. You have my thanks.”

  Kitalla didn’t know what to say so she just stared back at him.

  Gabrion turned to Dariak with a much sterner expression. “You came to my village and ruined everything. Or at least, you were part of the problem. You did kill my mentor, though you were trying to kill me. If he hadn’t jumped in the way, then his end would have been mine. But since then you’ve done several things to keep me alive. You certainly didn’t need to risk yourself to drag me from the execution site, yet you did.”

  He stepped away and looked from one to the other. “My mission is to rescue Mira, who was kidnapped by the Hathrens. I know I can’t do it alone, but if I must, then I will find a way. I don’t know what your own missions truly are, but if they overlap and if your goals will take me closer to reaching mine, then I will work with you, if you will have me.”

  Dariak’s eyebrows shot up. He was surprised by this declaration. He figured Gabrion would run off on his own. Kitalla was less surprised at the noble-hearted warrior who had tried to leave the forest ambush without a fight. She turned instead to Dariak and asked the question that affected matters the most: “So, then, mage, what exactly is your quest?”

  Chapter 11

  Dariak’s Quest

  The one thing Dariak never wanted to share with anyone else was his quest. Staring at Kitalla and Gabrion in a dead man’s basement, the mage started trembling, feeling he didn’t have much choice. Part of him wanted the king’s soldiers to burst in and take away this moment of confession. The rest of him wanted to keep silent and face the wrath of the two before him.

  Kitalla saw the war going on inside the mage. She rolled her eyes and pouted impatiently. “Don’t make me rethink my opinion of you. It’s already obvious.”

  Gabrion didn’t seem to think the mage’s quest was so transparent, but then, he hadn’t seen what Dariak took from the museum. As Dariak realized that she knew, he decided to explain. After all, Gabrion always seemed a little happier after letting his emotions loose. Why not himself? “I seek the Red Jade.”

  Kitalla didn’t react, but Gabrion did. “What! That infernal magic device from the last great war? The one that summoned the colossus?”

  “The very same.” Dariak nodded.

  “Ridiculous!” the warrior exclaimed. “Whatever would possess you?”

  “Do you know the story?” Dariak returned.

  “We all do,” Kitalla moaned.

  But Gabrion added more. “Yes, the war was in full effect, and one mage used the power of the Red Jade to summon a colossus to wipe out our forces. It was an obscene use of magic, twisting the powers of the world in a way they were never meant to be. The colossus decimated our troops but was slain in the end. The Red Jade exploded and killed our king. The pieces were scattered. How could you ever think to reclaim them?”

  Dariak hesitated, yet now that he had started, the prospect of finally sharing his secret information felt invigorating. “No one ever knew anything about that mage, did they? All the stories say that your king thought a horde of mages summoned that colossus. But, no, it was just one man. One man who had poured his heart and soul into the magic forces. One man who had tried to support his own king with his talents in the only way he knew how. He wanted all the wars to end. He thought that if he created a means of bringing an invincible and powerful weapon into battle he could stop all the wars, because enemies would realize that it was futile to fight against it. They would lay down their weapons and heed the will of our king. The fighting would stop, and peace would reign for the first time in countless years. The people could return to agriculture and to furthering their skills to improve life. There wouldn’t need to be so much war.”

  He didn’t know when his eyes had started leaking tears, but he ignored them. “Families would be able to raise their children, without fear of being invaded. Without fear that having a son would mean he would be sent to war to die so that the king could continue on. There would be no more pawns. Families wouldn’t need to worry that if the capable men refused to fight, their wives would be taken as punishment. People who wanted to defend their nation would do so because they believed in it, not because they feared the consequences from their own leaders.

  “So I seek the Red Jade, to reassemble it, to find that power again, so I can do what that mage could not do. So I can unite these two lands and smite those who would oppose peace. And if my path to get there isn’t perfect, I don’t much care. I know what I have to do. I know what lies at the end. And I know that I have the gift within me to achieve that goal.”

  Dariak reached into his pocket and withdrew the crystal shard he had obtained from the museum. “This here is a fragment of the whole. This is part of the Red Jade.”

  Kitalla and Gabrion had competing questions. Gabrion’s focused on the object in Dariak’s
hand: “But it isn’t red at all. If it’s blue, then how is it part of the Red Jade?”

  “Because the Red Jade was only red at its final moment, when the conjuration was complete, with all the spell components intact. It required all the forces of nature to work together before its power could be harnessed. This piece, I don’t yet know what it does. The other one I carry”—he gestured to the concealed compartment on his chest—“is of the power of earth. And you’ve both experienced an aspect of its power; it can greatly increase the weight of what it touches.”

  “Your goal,” Gabrion said slowly, “is to gain enough power to conquer both nations and unite them under your command?”

  “Not really,” Dariak admitted. “But I understand how you would see it that way. No, I just want to stop war. Haven’t we all lost enough because of war?”

  “Fine sentiment,” Kitalla interrupted. “Though I think you’ve missed something. If you have a big weapon, you’ll just incite others to find bigger ones to take you down. It won’t stop war at all. You’ll just make it worse.”

  “I know…The colossus wasn’t supposed to be the end. It was just meant to stop the fighting for the time. After that, other work remains to restore the balance of power throughout both lands. Only the united strength of the jades can accomplish that. The mage who summoned the colossus was not meant to die that day. He would have ushered in a new age where everyone would come to understand magic in a better light. If you Kallisorians didn’t fear magic just because you were told to, then you would understand its uses and how best to counteract it.”

  Kitalla scoffed. “Sounds so simple.”

  “It isn’t. I know that.” Dariak held his impatience in check. “Hathreneir is turning into a wasteland in larger and larger areas. It’s because the balance of magic is awry. With the jades, I can restore the land. We wouldn’t need Kallisorian supplies. And for you, imagine how trade would increase overseas and in the south if your blacksmiths could also imbue their armor with protection spells. Your own wealth would increase.”

  “No one here would go for that,” Gabrion argued.

  “Not at first. It would take time. That’s also why I need the Red Jade: to give me the strength needed to endure. There’s more to it all, but that’s the premise.” He paused. “And once it’s all truly over, I could break the Red Jade again and give it to rulers who will maintain the peace.”

  “How will you figure out when it’s all truly over?” Gabrion asked.

  “I really don’t know.”

  They were silent for a few moments before Kitalla wondered aloud, “Did I follow you for this reason? So you could bring the apocalypse? Did you intend to make me a queen? Was that how you were going to give me more power?”

  The mage shook his head. “No, your skills draw the energies around you and cast them beyond your body. In some regards, you accomplish more with your dance skills than many mages can without tangible spell components and arcane words.”

  “Great. Thanks,” she said, irritated. “This benefits me how?”

  “In a few ways. First, I know offensive spells, and most of them require spell components. Yet if I can help you recognize the energies around you in more detail, perhaps you’ll be able to channel them and use magic in your own way. You established a strong illusion in the museum. All the guards were baffled by things only they could see, and you had enough control to keep us from suffering under the same effect. That’s an impressive skill. But I’ve seen you use those skills more than once now, and you’re always defenseless while keeping the effect intact.”

  “Well, yes. It only lasts while I’m in the dance.”

  “Just like a mage can only function if he is pulling the energy and translating it properly with words, motions, and using the components as catalysts,” Dariak agreed. “What if you could augment your repertoire and add truly defensive spells to your arsenal, like a protective shield so you can’t be harmed? Or what if you could launch fireballs as you move about?”

  Kitalla scoffed. “I’ve seen your fire darts, mage, and they’re not worth learning to cast, I can tell you.”

  “That’s a minor spell, meant for lighting candles,” he said. “I could incinerate a village block if I set my mind to it. You’re missing the point though.”

  “I’m not. Your offer intrigued me before, and it intrigues me still. After all, I don’t generally put my life at risk to break strangers out from under the king’s nose.”

  Gabrion piped up at last. “There’s still something that doesn’t add up for me.”

  “What’s that?” Dariak asked.

  “My beloved was kidnapped from the village. I need to find her before she is hurt. I have to rescue her, or there is no point to me living.”

  He ignored the sarcastic faces the others pulled. “What about your quest?” he asked Kitalla. “What is it that makes it so important to you? You’re clearly driven in a very determined way. What motivates you?”

  Kitalla nodded. “Yes, that’s a good one. My motivation is obvious. I want to be more powerful so I can stop playing the part of the hag and live a better life. What is yours?” she asked Dariak.

  Dariak had known the question was coming. He wished it wasn’t, because he felt stupid and weak for saying it, but there it was anyway. “No one knew the mage that left everything behind and went to war with the king to try to stop all the fighting with a grandiose display of power.”

  He paused for a moment, and his voice quieted. “Well, the mage’s name was Delminor.

  “He was my father.”

  Chapter 12

  Preparation for Travel

  Gabrion and Kitalla stared in silence at the mage’s revelation, eyebrows raised. Most people had someone in their ancestry who had fought in at least one of the wars, but this was different. Dariak’s father wasn’t just some soldier or mage. He was the mage who had turned the tide of battle, the mage whose magic ultimately led to the demise of both warring kings. And now Dariak would follow in his old man’s steps.

  “That answers my question,” Gabrion said, “but it brings up so many more.”

  “Yeah,” Kitalla added, “because if he died in that war, then how do you even know what you’re doing?”

  Dariak grinned for a moment, then shook his head. “Instinct is a lot of it, but my father had a whole library of research, and he left many clues about what to do.”

  “But didn’t he die in that battle?” Gabrion asked. “How could he clue you in on where to find what you’re looking for?”

  “You’re not listening; I just said a lot of it was instinct. One piece found its way back to me because one warrior brought it to me so I could remember my father. This second piece made sense. Don’t all the stories say that the jade exploded and a chunk of it impaled your king? That he wanted the pieces collected for the kingdom? If it wasn’t destroyed outright, then the piece bearing the royal blood would be passed along to the new king, no? I’d heard in Hathreneir that a crystal was on display in the castle with other relics from previous wars, and I just knew what it had to be. Brazen king—wouldn’t he put the object on display as if saying his people had survived even that?”

  “Any clues of the others?” Kitalla asked.

  Dariak pulled the tiger’s-eye from the recesses of his robe, thinking of Randler and the brigands who were chasing him. “To the north.”

  “Mira is to the west,” Gabrion interjected. “We have to save her.”

  Dariak looked at him and sighed. “We just aren’t strong enough yet. I need to tap into the power of this piece to find out what I can learn. I need time to work with Kitalla to strengthen her abilities. And you need to improve your fighting skills.”

  Gabrion wanted to argue, but the mage was right. “We can’t do it here.”

  “We’ll leave under cover of night,” Kitalla announced. “Problem is, travel is dangerous the fart
her north we go.”

  “Why is that?” Dariak wondered.

  “This far south and west have seen a lot of people over the years, so the creatures tend to stay away,” Gabrion answered. “But the farther we get from the border of our two kingdoms, the more likely we’re going to run into danger. Especially at night.”

  Dariak nodded slowly. “Ah, of course. I forgot you have them too. Sometimes I think the feral creatures are just Hathreneir’s problem.”

  Kitalla shrugged. “Well, it looks like we need some materials then. Maybe some kind of armor for you?” she asked Gabrion. “Unless you want to try squeezing into that,” she added jokingly, pointing to the chain mail she had gratefully shrugged off.

  “I need materials too for my spells,” Dariak agreed.

  “Lucky I’ve got your money pouch then.” Kitalla grinned, pulling Gabrion’s pouch out of a pocket and tossing it to the warrior.

  “That’s great, but this won’t get us far,” said Gabrion.

  “Why not?” Dariak asked. “There’s over two hundred gold left in there.”

  Gabrion shook his head, perplexed. “No, there’s sixty-three gold in it. Same as when we got to Kaison. I checked it myself when Master Elgris gave it back to me.” He verified that the pouch still contained that amount.

  Dariak pounded his fist into his hand. “After all that bartering I did on his errands! And he went and stole the excess.” He growled, then added, “I’m tired of this place. I cannot wait to return to my homeland.”

  “No matter.” Kitalla shrugged. “We’ll just go and get what we need on our way out.”

  “I’m no thief,” Gabrion objected.

  “No, but I am. And if we’re going to work together on this little mission, then you’d better get used to it.” She stared at the warrior, waiting for him to challenge her. “We’ll pay it all back later,” she promised with an air of innocence, which Dariak ruined with a hearty laugh.