The Wizard of Time (Book 1)

by G. L. Breedon

  “Vicaquirao,” Gabriel said, knowing that the man who sat across from him was the one he’d named.

  “Very good,” Vicaquirao said. “I had heard you were quick-minded. I am glad to see it is true.”

  “You freed Nefferati,” Gabriel said.

  “I needed a distraction,” Vicaquirao said. “What better way to keep Kumaradevi busy than to release her ancient nemesis?”

  “What do you want with me?” Gabriel said, deciding to get to the point of this conversation as he grabbed a half sandwich and took a bite. Vicaquirao wasn’t about to poison him, and he would need a full stomach and a clear head to face this particular adversary.

  “What do I want?” Vicaquirao said, sounding as though he were musing about the question for the first time. “I want the same thing all the others want, Gabriel. I want to use you to accomplish my own goals. I do not just want to make you my pawn. I want to make you my knight, my bishop, and my rook, all rolled into one.”

  “I’m not going to be anyone’s pawn,” Gabriel said. “Or any other piece on the board.”

  “You already are,” Vicaquirao said, with a hint of sadness in his voice. “The Council intends to use you to destroy Apollyon and Kumaradevi, and myself if they knew I was still around. Apollyon wants to use you to destroy The Great Barrier and help him gain control of the entire Continuum. And Kumaradevi would use you to destroy the Council and Apollyon as well. You see, no matter who holds your hand, they will all put a sword in it and point you where they want you to go.”

  “The Council isn’t trying to make me do anything.” Gabriel said. He knew it was a lie as he said it.

  “They will not make you do anything,” Vicaquirao said. “They will appeal to your better nature and convince you it was your idea.”

  “And how do you want to use me?” Gabriel said, putting the remainder of his sandwich back on the plate. He had lost his appetite.

  “If I told you that, it would spoil the surprise,” Vicaquirao said, suddenly smiling again. “Rest assured that no harm will come to you while you are in my care. Let me simply say that while Kumaradevi sees the battle, and Apollyon sees the war, and the Council sees the end of the war, I see the war after the war, and the war after that.”

  “If you’re not going to tell me how you plan to use me,” Gabriel said, “then you can at least tell me what you really want. The Council wants to protect the Primary Continuum, Kumaradevi and Apollyon want to rule it. What do you want?”

  “Two things,” Vicaquirao said, “and I am hoping they are not mutually exclusive. Can you guess what the first is? How much has the Council told you about me?”

  Gabriel thought about the second question and realized he knew the answer to the first. “You want revenge,” Gabriel said, suspecting for the first time that he might have an inkling of Vicaquirao’s plans.

  “A dish best served with your enemy’s head on a platter,” Vicaquirao said. “Yes, I want revenge. There are few things that really upset me, but trying to kill me is one of them.”

  “Why did Apollyon try to kill you?” Gabriel asked, hoping he could gain some useful information that he might be able to use later to his advantage.

  “Why does any boy rebel against his father?” Vicaquirao said with a rhetorical tone.

  “I don’t understand,” Gabriel said, “You weren’t his father. Apollyon was born in Macedonia in 300 BCE.”

  “Which is where I found him trailing behind Alexander’s army hoping one day to be a soldier,” Vicaquirao said. “Of course he went by the name Cyril then. I saw him for what he was immediately, but I decided not to jump ahead in his timeline and try to pluck him out at his death. He was young at the time, only 13, and I felt an affinity for him. I had been a young boy once wishing to be a soldier. I thought that if I took him from time to time and trained him I would gain his loyalty. I would enchant his memory when I put him back in the timeline, moments after I had taken him. He only knew he was a True Mage when he was with me.

  “When I finally took him from the timeline at the moment of his death, he was already fully trained. Eventually, he saw me as just as great a threat to himself as the Council. Which I still take as an insult. I am far more dangerous than the Council will ever be.” Gabriel found himself inclined to believe Vicaquirao when he smiled as he did just then. “And so he tried to kill me. I will not bore you with the details. Suffice it to say, I found it expedient to appear to be dead for some time.”

  “So,” Gabriel said, hoping Vicaquirao was telling him the truth and would continue to, “you want revenge against Apollyon. What else do you want?”

  “To be honest,” Vicaquirao said, “I would be happy to be left alone.”

  “What do you mean?” Gabriel asked.

  “Just what I said,” Vicaquirao said. “I was never interested in dominating the Primary Continuum or destroying The Great Barrier. What would be the point? I am already more powerful than most gods in any mythology. And who wants to be in charge of all that? What a nuisance. You have seen Kumaradevi, running from meeting to meeting. And the Council. I’m sure you’ve seen them at work. Late nights and long hours, for what? To rule? I have no interest in ruling. Quick way to put yourself in the way of someone else who wants power. No, I would just like to be left alone to sit in my little world and do as I please.”

  “Then why kidnap me?” Gabriel asked.

  “I prefer to think of it as a rescue,” Vicaquirao said, taking another sip of tea, “But allow me simply to say that I would not have brought you here if I did not think it would benefit me.”

  “So this is an alternate reality, this place?” Gabriel said, gesturing slightly to indicate the mountains and the forest valley.

  “Not so brutal and barbaric as Kumaradevi’s world,” Vicaquirao said, “but just as well hidden. I have eliminated all but a handful of artifacts that might exist in this world and the Primary Continuum, but other than that, I largely leave this world to its own devices.”

  “You mean you don’t try to milk it for malignant imprints?” Gabriel said.

  “What would the need be?” Vicaquirao said. “I assure you, human beings are sufficiently cruel and evil on their own. They need no encouragement from me. I stay out of the way and let the world run as it will.”

  “But you still link concatenate crystals to the artifacts and places that people taint with their actions,” Gabriel said, his tone accusatory.

  “Of course I do,” Vicaquirao said. “Why let all that power go to waste?”

  “Because of what they are and how they were made,” Gabriel said, thinking about all the times he had been forced to touch the tainted imprints of various artifacts in order to defend himself in the arena of Kumaradevi’s palace.

  “I am a Dark Mage,” Vicaquirao said, his tone sounding defensive for the first time. “I gain my magical power from dark imprints. That is the way of the universe. I did not make it such, and I have no control over it. Do you think I chose to be a Dark Mage? You have the luxury of choosing the imprints you use, but the rest of us, every other mage in existence, must use the imprints we are drawn to.”

  “You can always choose not to use magic,” Gabriel said.

  “True,” Vicaquirao said, his smile returning. “But that is a choice open to all of us, even you. No one forced you to use dark imprints to defend yourself in that arena. You choose to use them.”

  “That was different,” Gabriel said, his cheeks flushing. “I was being attacked.”

  “If you were really a man of your convictions, you would have turned the other cheek,” Vicaquirao said.

  “They would have killed me,” Gabriel said, feeling now much like he had in that arena: beset upon from all sides.

  “Do you really think Kumaradevi would have killed the Seventh True Mage?” Vicaquirao asked. “At the very most she would have held you in stasis like Nefferati. She might even have chosen to ransom you for someone else she could use more easily. No, the truth is, you have not yet realized what
you are and what you mean to the balance of the Continuum. There is a reason you are able to use both dark and light imprints. Look at the history of any timeline in any reality and as long as humans are present, there is always a struggle between darkness and light, between grace and malignancy. You are at the very center of that struggle. And that means you have more choices than anyone else. It also means that your choices are more important than anyone else’s.”

  Gabriel was silent. It was too much to think about all at once. Vicaquirao was right. He did have a choice. He didn’t have to use malignant imprints. He didn’t even have to use grace imprints. He could choose not to use magic at all. But what would the result of that choice be? And if he did choose to use magic could he really avoid using tainted imprints? Could he say no to malignant imprints if using them meant the difference between people living and dying? Could he say no to using malignant imprints that had their source in the suffering of others if it meant he could use those imprints to stop someone else from being made to suffer? What if he had the chance to destroy Kumaradevi’s rule, but could only do so by using artifacts with malignant imprints? Could he justify that?

  It was a choice that no one on the Council would ever have to make. It was a choice that only he would ever be faced with. Could he justify the choices he had made already? Would he make the same choices again? And then he saw it. Why Vicaquirao wanted him.

  “You want to control my choices,” Gabriel said, blinking with the sudden clarity of the statement.

  “Not control them,” Vicaquirao said, smiling wider than ever, “merely influence them. They will always be your choices. But if I can have a say in how you make those choices, at least as loud a voice as the Council, then maybe the Continuum will be able to remain whole.”

  “What do you mean, remain whole?” Gabriel asked. “What’s wrong with the Continuum?”

  “They have not told you?” Vicaquirao asked. “Even Kumaradevi was afraid to speak of it.”

  “Who hasn’t told me what?” Gabriel asked, feeling once again like everyone was keeping him in the dark about things he should have been told of from the start.

  “The prophecy,” Vicaquirao said. “No one has told you the prophecy, have they?”

  “They told me the prophecy spoke of a Seventh True Mage who could use both positive and negative imprints,” Gabriel said, trying to remember if he had been told anything else. What had Kumaradevi called him the first day?

  Vicaquirao leaned back in his chair and recited:

  “He shall come without warning

  And leave without sign.

  His coming shall mark the dawn of the endless night.

  He shall walk among them, but be not of them.

  He shall bestride the night and day.

  Twilight shall be his world,

  And all lands shall be his domain.

  He shall pick of both trees

  And eat of all fruits

  He shall plant new seeds

  And harvest new crops

  He shall be the Breaker of Time

  And the Destroyer of Worlds

  And all things shall hang in his balance

  Until he is no more and yet is again.”

  Gabriel was silent, the words ringing in his head like the bells of a cathedral all sounding at once. The words were not entirely clear, but one thing was. He was far more dangerous than he had imagined. More dangerous to everyone.

  “You can hardly blame them for not telling you,” Vicaquirao said. “I am sure they only wanted to spare you the trauma of wondering every night if you would be the undoing of the entire Continuum.”

  “How could I?” Gabriel asked. “I’m just a kid.”

  “Today you are a youth,” Vicaquirao laughed, “and you are already as powerful as six mages at once. In a few years, maybe ten, maybe five, you will become the most powerful mage that has ever existed. Assuming you live that long.”

  “Assuming Kumaradevi or Apollyon or you don’t kill me,” Gabriel said, his tone defiant.

  “If I wanted you dead, you would be,” Vicaquirao said. “You are not seeing the full picture. All things have their place, their purpose. I know what mine is. You will need to discover what yours is. I cannot show you that. Neither can the Council. You are on your own. The most any of us can do is try to influence your final decisions. For instance, the Council would destroy Kumaradevi’s world if they could find it, but would you? Would you condemn all those innocent lives to sudden nonexistence because of Kumaradevi’s cruelty? How many lives will you end to save the stability of the Primary Continuum?”

  Gabriel thought about the world he had created when he had saved Ling and how he had helped Akikane sever and destroy it to keep another version of himself from being created. This brought a question to his mind.

  “Why didn’t Kumaradevi create an alternate reality with me in it and double me the way Apollyon is doubling himself?” Gabriel asked.

  “For the same reason she does not double herself,” Vicaquirao said. “She trusts no one, not even a double of herself. Now stop avoiding my question.”

  “I will destroy only the worlds that I absolutely must,” Gabriel said, making it a promise and a pledge to himself as he voiced the words.

  “A good enough answer for now,” Vicaquirao said, standing up and stretching. “I think tomorrow I shall show you something that will help clarify the choices you will need to make in the future. For now, feel free to wander around the grounds. Please do not be foolish enough to try and flee. I can find you wherever you go. And you cannot get far in this terrain. Dinner will be at sun down.”

  With that, Vicaquirao made a slight bow and walked back into the main room of the cabin. Gabriel watched him go, but lost sight of him as Vicaquirao moved deeper into the shadows of the house. Not knowing what else to do, Gabriel got up and walked down the steps of the porch. Running away would probably be futile, but at least he could take a walk and clear his head.

  Gabriel strolled down the grassy slope of the hill the cabin sat on. He soon came to a path that led into the woods. As he walked, he tried to consider his options. Did he have any options? He could run now, but to where? How far could he get on foot? Vicaquirao was right. The landscape was much too formidable for an escape. He was trapped here until he could think of something. He would have to start planning an escape from scratch. He would need to find a new object to begin imbuing and hope for clues from Vicaquirao that would tell him how to escape from this world and get back to the Primary Continuum. For the moment, however, he could do nothing. Which left him little to occupy his thoughts other than his conversation with Vicaquirao.

  How much of what Vicaquirao had said could he trust? How much should he believe? Gabriel had the distinct feeling that Vicaquirao had not lied to him, but had phrased his arguments in such a way as to sway Gabriel’s thinking closer to his own. He had admitted that he wanted to influence Gabriel’s choices. Which was ironic, as Gabriel hadn’t had any real choices lately, not since he had been plucked from that bus at the bottom of the river. Or was that true?

  He had choices. He could have chosen to become a castle servant rather than a mage. He could have refused to go on missions. If he had, he might never have been revealed as the Seventh True Mage. And he was the only one who made the choice to save Ling. Vicaquirao was right. Gabriel had even made choices while held captive by Kumaradevi. He might not have been able to refuse training without risking the lives of his parents, but he could have failed at it instead of succeeding. He could make that choice now. He could refuse to help Vicaquirao with his plans, whatever they really were. But how would he know that he wasn’t making exactly the choice Vicaquirao wanted him to? Did Vicaquirao truly want to be left alone after he had achieved his revenge? Somehow Gabriel couldn’t really imagine it.

  The path Gabriel had been walking along came out of the forest and deposited him back in the clearing, well down the hill from the cabin. He looked at the sky and saw the sun slipping behind the
western mountains. As he walked back to the cabin, he wondered what mountains these were. It looked like Colorado. Maybe these were some alternate-reality version of the Rocky Mountains. If he knew where in the world he was, it would help him know where to go when he had imbued an object enough to jump somewhere.

  Even before he entered the cabin, his mouth started to water from the smell of the food. Stepping through the door, the smell of garlic, onions, and a tangy hint of tomatoes filled his nostrils. The cabin had a large open design, with a kitchen on one side, a dining area in the middle and a living room in the back. A set of wide, rough-hewn stairs led up to the second floor. The first thing to grab Gabriel’s attention was the presence of light bulbs. Electric light bulbs.

  “You have electricity,” Gabriel said as though he’d never seen it before. It had been a long while since he’d seen an electric light bulb. Kumaradevi’s world had only oil lamps, candles, and torches for light.

  “Yes,” Vicaquirao said. “I believe in the creature comforts. There is a solar power array on the backside of the roof. This little world of mine is not anywhere near that level of technology yet, but I detest the way oil lamps and candles stain the ceilings. And electric lamps have a warm, soothing glow that is difficult to achieve with magic glow bulbs. Have a seat. Dinner will be up shortly.”

  Gabriel took a seat at a long dining table of thick cut oak planks lacquered and polished to a high sheen. Two glasses of red wine, an open bottle, simple glazed clay plates, and a large wooden bowl with salad sat on the table.

  As Gabriel pulled his chair in and placed his napkin on his lap, Vicaquirao entered from the kitchen carrying a tray containing a large bowl of steaming linguine and a smaller bowl with tomato sauce. The tray also contained a basket overflowing with thick-cut, garlic-topped slices of bread. Gabriel’s stomach rumbled as he began to lick his lips in anticipation. Until he remembered something. This was his favorite meal. Right down to the cherry tomatoes in the salad. Had the meal been made by anyone else he might have chalked it up to coincidence, but not with Vicaquirao. And why had Vicaquirao made the meal himself? Were there really no servants? Or were they hidden?