by M. S. Verish
The sound of the door ceased any wandering thoughts. There were multiple footsteps this time—two sets of steady feet and one pair that dragged. When they came into view, Asmat was not amongst those in the light of the lantern. Two Jornoans carried a blinded prisoner, but the Demon knew the face beneath the sack before it was lifted.
It was the old man. The Prophet. Duke Nikolon Omarand. Father. Betrayer. The knowing blue eyes did not sparkle now. They darted to the dark corners of the cellar, searching for some hidden horror but settling upon something worse: his follower. The Demon watched him from where it lay, also searching—searching for some clue that its leader might have some hidden opportunity or hope of escape. A wink, a nod, a slight smile—any gesture would suffice.
But the old man, pale and fragile in the light of the lantern, was no more than an old man. His noble attire was soiled and tattered, his white hair in disarray. And fear. The Demon could smell his fear as easily as it could see it on the taut skin drawn by the Prophet’s expression of despair. As the Jornoans took him into the opposite corner to be bound, Prophet and Demon kept their eyes locked.
At some point, the Jornoans left, and the two infamous thieves were left alone in darkness and in silence. The Demon could see in the darkness, and its leader searched blindly in the shadows. The weakened voice reached out to the Demon with the name the old man had given it, but the Demon said nothing, waiting.
The great and infamous Prophet waited too, but his lips had parted with nothing on them. For all the words of wisdom he had so readily imparted to his followers for so many years, he had not one sound to utter…except….
“I am sorry,” the Prophet whispered to the creature who had trusted him.
At last the Demon turned away.
16
Looming
“Are you ready?” the wizard asked with a gleeful smile.
Arcturus looked at Kariayla, pointed to his eye, and shook his head. For all appearances, the glimmer had returned, and William had a spring in his step once more. This was jittery excitement, however, and it was coupled with bouts of anxious laughter or hasty chuckles. When William first announced that he wanted to show them something special, Arcturus had been instantly suspicious, and since that moment, the Markanturian’s expression was red stone.
“This is the finest work ever done by my students,” William bragged and pulled open the door. Before them was a giant framework of wooden planks and string. It was large enough they could all stand within its form, and Jinx and Ruby were the first to do so.
“What is it?” the thief asked, tugging lightly at one of the colorful strings above his head.
“Easy there, my boy,” William said, hurrying to hover beside the creation. “It is The Loom.”
“The loom that presumably exploded?” Arcturus asked, approaching the construct with his staff thumping beside him.
William ushered Ruby away before she could swing on a low beam. “Yes, yes, but it has since been repaired, of course.”
“Of course. I did not know you were so interested in textiles.” Arcturus was staring at William, not the loom.
“Ah, well, I dabble in many things.”
“In more ways than one.”
William met his gaze. “This loom is the first of its kind.”
“Why is there dirt under it?” Jinx interrupted, kicking at the substrate.
“I like earth tones,” William snapped. “Don’t mess. And try not to interrupt.”
“Sorry.”
“First of its kind,” Arcturus prompted the wizard.
“Yes. And the only of its kind. You see, the loom does not weave clothes, but rather time and distance.” William turned and gestured to the contraption. “I’m not entirely certain how it all works, but in theory, a body is connected to the loom by a special string, and that string is magically woven into a matrix—a shroud—that serves as a temporal gateway to a particular destination. One merely needs to be ‘enshrouded’ upon the temporal medium—the ‘dirt’—as Master Jinx indicated—and then you go!” He flung wide his arms, then turned back to see his audience gaping at him. “What?”
“Ya mean you get buried alive?” Jinx gasped. Ruby’s eyes consumed another third of her face.
“No! Not at all!” William held up a finger, then rubbed his chin. “Well, actually, I suppose that is sort of true. But you are not ‘buried’ long. You awaken in another place.”
“This theory of yours is incredible,” Arcturus said, his words slow and thoughtful. “I suppose it would be a convenient method of travel for one confined to a hidden city in the mountains. And to think I had to cross the continent to visit you. You might have saved me a journey.” He gave a wry smile. “To where do you intend to travel?”
“Well, you understand that I am rather limited in my mobility, being the headmaster of this fine school—”
“I was under no such impression,” Arcturus interjected politely.
“It is, in part, the reason for your arduous trek.”
Arcturus waited.
William elbowed Jinx. “I was thinking you might like to try my loom.”
“Me?”
“Whoever is willing, actually.”
Arcturus thumped his staff. “No.”
Everyone turned to him.
“I will not tolerate your antics, William. This is not a frivolity, and these young travelers are under my care. You may try to dazzle them, appeal to their sense of adventure, wonder, and perhaps even their innocent desire to be of service, but I know you, and I will be your obstacle if you do not at least have the decency to thoroughly explain all of your intentions.” He placed his free hand on his hip. “What is this,” he gestured to the loom, “about?”
William drew a deep breath. “Fair enough. All I have said regarding the loom is true. It is a device of transport, and with it I hope to transport a small party to Orecir, a city on the southern coast of Northern Secramore. That is where the party will rendezvous with my contact to gather details about Priagent Rashir Diemh and his group of followers. From there, the party will assume the identity of Merchant Guild representatives, approach the Priagent about his endeavors, earn his trust through a mutual arrangement, and then abscond with the Ravenstone when he is least suspecting an evasion.”
Arcturus had started to speak when William raised a hand. “I know—all the details… The party would be in disguise, of course. I have devised an illusion for each member that will be so convincing that—”
“Stop!” Arcturus cried. “You have gone completely mad. Have you considered the tale you are imparting?”
All eyes shifted to the wizard.
“At least three times, Arcturus, but I do confess that the plan has necessarily evolved.” William seemed undaunted by the Markanturian’s accusation. “It is a fair plan, and while there are a few variables involved, I am quite confident the Ravenstone will be recovered and—”
“A few variables?” Arcturus pressed, his voice rising with each word. “You ask us to travel on a whim through your magic loom, pretend to be an authority we are not, and risk our lives to steal a mythical cantalere from a Southern Secramorian ruler and his entourage. Look at us, William,” he demanded, gesturing to the others. “We are not spies, fighters, or powerful medori. We came here for a friendly visit, only to find you have concocted a grand operation to swindle a man in the midst of some diplomatic endeavor—merely because you believe he will destroy all of Secramore with an endowed rock from forgotten tales of a misconstrued historical event.
“I suspect that the one man with any inkling of your ludicrous ambitions acted accordingly and left before he could be thrown into such madness. You should know that I—along with my companions—will be soon to follow.” Arcturus rubbed his brow. “How could you even present such a notion? I am beyond words.”
The silence that followed was an itch begging to be scratched, but no one made a move, much less a sound. William opened his mouth, then closed it again, defeated. His sho
ulders drooped, and Arcturus snorted. The Markanturian gestured for the others to follow him, but when their attention was directed to the door, they stopped.
“And to think I just paid him a compliment,” Arcturus grumbled, watching the tall man step inside the room.
“You came back,” William marveled, but Hawkwing held up a hand.
“What choice did I have—” the tracker asked, “—when thrown into desperation, you ask for help—poorly, I might add—from your unassuming guests?”
“Desperate?” William laughed.
Hawkwing did not smile. “Priagent—the Jornoan word for ‘emperor.’ Diemh claimed his title before he took his hold in Southern Secramore. His own people have rejected him; they are too immersed in civil war to give him any heed. But does one man and his band of loyal followers warrant such attention? He has earned your attention, Bill.”
“He has the Ravenstone,” William said. “He took the time to locate it and unearth it. Now he resides in Orecir, and he has been making alliances.”
“A political strategy to gain support,” Arcturus said with a sigh. “Perhaps he wishes to purchase some land, form a treaty, or marry a foreign princess. What does it matter what Emperor Diemh wishes? Politics change the map of our world constantly. He can don any title he wishes, but the idea that one man will rule Secramore is nearly as ludicrous as William’s proposal.”
“Does he want to rule Secramore?” Hawkwing asked. “It is not the Priagent that concerns me.” He looked at the wizard. “And I doubt his ambitions are what concern you.”
William’s mouth twisted in a strange expression as he held his tongue.
Hawkwing glanced at Jinx and Kariayla. “Have you told them what the stone can do?”
“We have discussed the lore,” Arcturus said, dismissive.
“Not entirely,” William admitted, and Arcturus glared at him.
“It has the potential to unravel magic,” Hawkwing said.
“Ya mean like undo spells?” Jinx asked.
“That is one consequence among many,” William said. “If magic can be unraveled, think of what it could do to a being with magic in its blood.” He nodded to Kariayla, Hawkwing, and Arcturus. “It could destroy each and every one of you. That’s why I was hoping Jinx might be willing to carry the stone.”
Jinx bit his lip.
“And I suppose the Ravenstone would be safest in your hands,” Arcturus said to the wizard.
“I respectfully decline,” William said. “It should be taken to Veloria.”
“Then by all means…” Arcturus gestured again to the loom.
“I cannot become involved,” William said tightly.
Arcturus’s ire had stirred again. “Yet you can send others in your stead? Never mind that this is your idea. You are far better suited to the task.”
“He can’t,” Hawkwing said quietly.
Arcturus’s heated stare alternated between them. “More secrets,” he grumbled. “How is it that you know so much?”
Hawkwing started to speak, but William was quicker. “I told him about the Watchers, lad. I had to, in hopes that he would accept your company on this mission.”
“Ah, yes, the Gray Watchers. How did I forget?” Arcturus said wryly. He started to pace before the loom.
“Do you know what they’re talkin’ about?” Jinx whispered to Kariayla. She remained speechless, ensnared within the exchange transpiring before them.
“The point is, the Ravenstone must be recovered,” William said. “Without knowing Diemh’s intentions, too much is left to chance.”
“He also has the Prophet and the White Demon at his disposal,” Hawkwing said.
Arcturus stopped pacing and thumped his staff impatiently. “If that is meant to support your cause then—”
“I’m in,” Jinx blurted. He shrugged at the faces around him. “If I get to meet the Prophet and the Demon, then I’ll go. I’m not scared of a rock. I ain’t got no magic.”
“My boy, you do not know what you are saying,” Arcturus said.
“I’m not a boy,” Jinx asserted, puffing out his chest. “I can go if I want to, and I want to help Bill.”
“I hope you are satisfied,” Arcturus snapped at the wizard. “And I believe you were conspiring with him this entire time,” he said to Hawkwing. “To conveniently appear when William most needs you.”
“Believe what you will,” Hawkwing said, “but I came back because this danger is real. There is no one else to shoulder this task.”
“That is absurd. No one else? No one but three average citizens of Secramore…and one personal spy?”
“There is nothing average about any of you,” Hawkwing said. “But neither I—nor Bill—” he looked sternly at William—“will force upon you this burden.”
Jinx nodded. “I’ve always been just a thief.” He came to stand next to Hawkwing, the reluctant imp unsuccessful at pulling him in the opposite direction. “You don’t gotta go, Ruby. You can stay with Bill. He’ll take good care of you ‘til I come back.”
“You may not come back.” Kariayla, who had been silent until this point, looked up at the thief. “I want to help as much as you do, but we don’t know anything about the Priagent, the Ravenstone, or the Merchants’ Guild. The mission seems dangerous enough for someone who knows what he is doing.” She could feel Hawkwing looking at her, but she refused to look back. “How do we know that we are capable of helping at all? Isn’t there a special authority or group of wizards that can contend with the Priagent and the stone?”
“I am relieved that someone else in this room believes in logic,” Arcturus said. He patted her shoulder.
“Returning to this was not a decision I made lightly,” Hawkwing said. He sat in a chair beside the loom. “No one, save the few in this room and perhaps a couple others, knows about the Ravenstone. The danger in seeking help to obtain an object of considerable power is the temptation of using it for selfish gain. The stone was buried for a reason. The more involvement, the greater the threat. To whom would you turn? Who do you trust?”
Kariayla fell silent.
“I will take the lead,” Hawkwing said. “There are no guarantees, and there are plenty of risks. But for any who choose to follow me, I will do everything in my power to protect you.”
“Like you did on the path in the Plains,” Arcturus said. “Forgive me if I am less than assured.” He turned to Jinx. “James, please reconsider your involvement. I know I have been a stubborn companion, and our opinions have differed along our journey, but I do truly care for your welfare. I do not want to see you sacrifice your life needlessly.”
Jinx said nothing, but gave a slight nod.
Arcturus sighed. “I am finished with this discussion. It should never have happened, and I am disappointed that it has. I hope the two of you will come to your senses, but at the very least, I ask you not to pressure the minds of James and Kariayla with notions of heroism and bravado, lest I hold you personally responsible for the fate that befalls them.” He gave William and Hawkwing a lasting look before he left the room.
*
“What is this place, Arcturus?” Kariayla asked. For all appearances, he had brought them to an abandoned shop.
The Markanturian looked over his shoulder before he pushed open the door to allow the companions inside. “Let us just say that it is a retreat where we can talk without certain influences.”
Jinx crouched by the hearth, Ruby at his side. “I’d build us a fire, but there ain’t no wood.”
“I do not intend to be here long, James.” He offered a chair to Kariayla and eased himself into the other. He pulled out his pipe and started to pack it. “The truth of the matter is that my placement of trust in two notable individuals has been shaken. Though I admit that I have never had complete faith in our guide.”
“Before you say more, you gotta know I made up my mind,” Jinx said. Where usually he might have produced his knife to fidget with it, his focus was completely on his companions. “I�
�m going with Hawkwing.”
“James—”
“Lemme say what I gotta say.” He stood facing Kariayla. “I know we made a pact to stick together, but I kinda feel I gotta do this. I’m sorry, Kariayla.” He ran a hand through his mass of black hair. “I thought about it a lot, and I ain’t done nuthin’ right all my life. Lorth, I’m even a bad thief.” He glanced at Ruby, who remained by the hearth. “Alright, Ruby was the best thing I ever stold, but I can’t ever go back. I can’t go home, either. I got nowhere to go and nuthin’ to do.”
“You can remain with us,” Arcturus said, “and not waste your life needlessly.”
Jinx mustered a smile. “You guys are the first folks to really care about me. Thing is, I want to do something good. Not sayin’ I could be a hero, but if the Deem guy is really dangerous, and I’m the only one who can take the stone, then I wanna do it. If it means gettin’ caught and…well…” He made a gesture across his throat with the knife. “At least I tried to do something right, and Jedinom himself can’t say I didn’t.” A little grin dashed across his scruffy face. “And I do really wanna meet the Demon and the Prophet. I never thought I’d get a chance to do that.”
Arcturus’s smile was a sad one. “I will not attempt to dissuade what your heart has decided, but we will miss your company. I do wish you would join us, for I believe we would seek our own adventures.”
“I know. I’ll miss you guys too. I just gotta ask one thing.”
Arcturus took a deep breath. “Yes, James, we will look after Ruby.”
“Thanks,” he said, his cheeks rosy. “You…um…you ain’t gonna leave before Bill sends us, are you?”
“I am afraid I do not want to tarry in the company of those who have since lost my respect. Kariayla and I will leave in the morning.”
Jinx nodded. “Then I won’t say goodbye yet. I’ll get to see you before you go.”
“Of course,” Arcturus said.
“But what about you? Where are you gonna go?”
Kariayla spoke up. “Arcturus talked about Caspernyanne. Such a grand kingdom would have an equally grand library.” There was no excitement in her voice. “After that, we aren’t sure.”
