The elf didn't concern him much, but there was the black horse that had been ridden by the young man with the medallion. The horse with the triangle marking on its forehead. And here came the horse that belonged to the girl that was helping him, too.
Reaton-Stav began chanting a spell of telepathy to the mercenary who was under the tree. He told him to go out to the ship and learn who was on it and why the two horses had been offloaded. Reaton-Stav also reached out with his magical senses, feeling for anything that might radiate an aura such as he felt when the boy had first used the amulet out on the road.
Was he on the ship? Or had he stayed on the island?
He never felt what he was after, and he wondered if the artifact only radiated the aura when it was being used. That had to be it because he hadn't felt it on the South Road until the boy had used it. Maybe it was out there on the ship, after all.
Reaton-Stav realized he had lost track of Debain and his pitiful daughter. He sent the crow flying around the small port town to locate them. Luckily it wasn't that hard to spot the pair of hairless, robed figures
Neither Debain nor the girl noticed when the crow fluttered down and landed on the overhang of a shop's roof nearby.
"—no, my dear, we haven't captured the fool yet, but I'm sure it won't be long. One of the Old Ones is making a fake medallion to be returned to him for the reward. Masquerading elders and a couple of our more powerful students will nab him when the exchange takes place." Debain waved that subject of conversation away with his hand like it was a troublesome insect.
"I am supposed to meet Jarmen Lott later, to turn the horses over to him," Debain went on. "I would have sent him to meet the boat, only I wanted to give you these." He handed her the bundle he had been carrying around all day. "And, of course, my dear, I wanted to see you off." He smiled lovingly at his daughter. "Have I told you how much you look like your mother?"
Reaton-Stav saw her blush through the eyes of the crow and wanted to laugh at them.
"Don't worry, love. The hair will grow back once the magic that removed it completely dissipates," Debain told her and gave her a fatherly hug. "In the bundle, there are three blank journals with plenty of quills and ink. I expect a detailed account of everything that happens on the quest. I am to meet Master Martrin and Master Beatrice later at the Hall of Scholars before I see King Barden. In the end, they will both want detailed descriptions of all the flora and fauna you encounter."
"Oh, Father, I won't have time to enjoy a bit of it.” Suclair pouted, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I will be too busy journaling."
"It's nothing to cry about, dear.” He wiped the tears from her cheek with the gentle brush of his thumb. "It's only a small amount of work for a girl of your intelligence."
"The tears are because I will miss you, Father, not because of the work."
"You'll be home before you know it," he said as he gave her a final hug. "Now be brave, and be careful. Vinston-Fret has promised to look out for you, so listen to him, for he is wise and cautious."
"Must you go already?" she asked through her tears.
"I must meet Jarmen soon if I'm to get to Camberly this evening." He gave her another quick hug, followed by a kiss on her forehead, then he turned and walked away.
Reaton-Stav chided himself for missing the beginning of such a revealing conversation. As the crow took to the air and began circling high to keep Debain in his sight, he began to chant the words of another spell of telepathy.
Dwarves?
This was the answer to the question he asked of the mercenary who inspected the ship. There were dwarves hiding on the ship. Why in Pharark's name were there dwarves involved? It was imperative now that he capture Debain. He had to know what this was all about. Elves and dwarves on a quest to a place where the idiot girl would fill journals with notes about? What could it mean? Where were they going? Why hadn’t his man found the boy?
As much as he wanted to pursue his own interest in finding the medallion, he decided he could make no mistakes while capturing Debain. Pharark would want to know about all of this, and Debain, Reaton-Stav was certain, knew all the answers.
Knowing what the old man was about, and his schedule, allowed a plan to take specific form. Again, Reaton-Stav began to chant. This time he spoke the necessary incantations to put his plan into motion.
"Arrgh," Debain cursed for the fifth time. "These blasted horses."
If it hadn't been for the horses, he would have eluded his pursuers long ago by going to the Hall of Scholars in a blink and a flash. But no, he had an obligation to Lord Braxton and Lady Nixalia to make sure their horses were taken safely to the Sorcerious in Halden so that they would be properly cared for while they were on their journey. If they weren't so blasted large, he might have been able to take them there with magical means, but it took all his ability just to transport he and Suclair. Why Jarmen Lott wasn't where he was supposed to be was infuriating, and Debain was forced to admit it was foolish of him to keep all the information he had for the King to himself. If something were to happen to him, then there was no one to warn the kingdom of the movements of the gothicans and the creatures of the Wilderkind or the grave robbing thug, Reaton-Stav.
He had been so consumed with documenting the events that had transpired on the Isle of Jolin that he lost track of time. What with aerial dragon battles and magical healing, and the brutally entertaining sport of goat-jousting, he had been writing continuously since his return. If Suclair weren't with them, he probably would have forgotten to meet the ship.
Now, here he was, roaming around aimlessly, pretending to be lost, in order to throw off his pursuers while waiting for the irresponsible Jarmen to get to their appointed meeting place and take these blasted horses off his hands so he could be on his way.
He had no idea why the two men followed him around, but he wasn't worried about it. It was more an annoyance than anything. He decided to pass by the appointed meeting place one more time, and if his man wasn't there, then he would have to resort to other means to get things done.
As he expected, Jarmen was nowhere in sight so, as he continued back down his circuitous trail, trying to appear lost and confused, he also chanted the incantations of a spell that would tell the horses how to make their own way to the Sorcerious. This spell took some time to complete, as did the giving of instructions to the impatient horse called Prism, who wanted only to run with the wind. The other horse listened better, and he carefully told the animal how to find Halden, the Sorcerious, and what the humans they could trust looked like. When that was done, he was able to let them go on their own.
No sooner had the two animals galloped out of sight did one of the mercenaries who'd been following him step out of the shadows with a crossbow aimed at Debain's heart.
Debain played stupid as he began to quietly chant the spell that would make him vanish from where he stood and reappear in the Hall of Scholars. He kept his concentration on his words while pretending not to understand what the big, well-armored man was saying to him. He spoke his incantation complete and true, and all that remained was a hand gesture to complete it and send him on his way. He decided to wait a moment now that the intricate parts of his spell had been cast and not take the chance of his sudden hand movement startling the eager mercenary to loose his bolt accidentally. Appearing in Camberly with a crossbow bolt in his chest wouldn't do him any good.
The other mercenary was surely close as well. Opportunity would present itself soon enough and Debain was patient. A fleeting moment was all it would take to remove him from harm's way. Besides that, he was curious why these men were now herding him back down the road.
When they came to the place where Debain was supposed to meet Jarmen, it was no surprise when he saw the young man bound and gagged and laying in the dirt. Jarmen was wide-eyed and full of terror. What did come as a surprise was when the other previously unseen mercenary was mule-kicked out of the shrubbery. Prism trotted out of the foliage and proceeded to trample h
im while Nixy's horse charged up from behind and head-butted the crossbowman off his feet.
Not wanting to leave Jarmen, Debain pulled the knife from the trampled man's belt and quickly cut the terrified young student free. Debain told Jarmen to get on one of the horses and ride for the Sorcerious with a fury. Once they were gone, he looked around for a moment, vastly confused as to why any of this was happening or how his meeting with Jarmen could have been predicted. He decided he better get to the Hall of Scholars where he could share his dire news so he wasn't the only one who knew. The moment he began the hand motion that triggered his spell of transport, he realized something wasn't right. He also realized it was too late to do anything about it. He had been led back to this spot for a reason. He had been led into a trap.
As he was supposed to do, he vanished from the small clearing in the woods just outside of Ardis, but instead of reappearing in Camberly, he appeared in a dark cell and instinctually knew that some powerful use of the arcane caused him to end up here instead of his intended destination. Debain found the cell was magically bound, and as hard as he tried, he couldn't figure out which one of his peers would have betrayed him. Only a true Old One would know how to use such spells. It wasn't until the blackness of his prison was blasted full of light by the opening of a small, head-high square door that Debain understood how bad his situation truly was. The smug, smiling face that peered in belonged to Reaton-Stav. His former student's expression was full of spite and victory.
"Those damn horses almost saved you, old man," Reaton-Stav spat. "It's too bad for you they didn't. Now you're going to learn what you could never teach me. You are going to learn what true power can do."
Chapter Twenty Four
When the Luck of the Little docked in Ardis, Debain waited on them as promised. It was decided Braxton and Nixy should both remain onboard and out of sight due to the increased rewards and fairly accurate description put out for them by Reaton-Stav. The current bounty was five hundred pieces of gold for the return of the medallion, with a bonus of one hundred gold coins each for Braxton and Nixy captured dead or alive.
The fact that Nixy was now wanted, too, had her furious.
They both took a while to brush and pamper Prism and Bolt before saying goodbye to them. Suclair led the horses off the ship to her waiting father. Vinston-Fret and the other two elves, along with Captain Pickerell, went to shore to provision the ship. The two conscious and now sober dwarves were in the process of bribing some of the crew to sneak ashore and purchase them some liquor. With the amount of gold the dwarves offered, the crew couldn't afford to refuse, and more than one enterprising deckhand took them up on the deal.
"I hope Debain gets that slime ball Reaton-Stav," Nixy said angrily.
"I'm sorry you've been brought into it all," Braxton said, knowing it was a weak attempt at consoling her. Having that large of a price on your head for something you didn't do was no small affair. It didn't surprise him much when his words only added fuel to her fire.
"Captain Pickerell's whip is what he deserves," she ranted. "Or better yet, he should be covered in honey and laid out on a bed of fire ants." She paused, no doubt thinking of something worse. "Do you think your dragon would scorch him with lightning like she did the red wyrm?"
"She's hardly my dragon.” Braxton bit back a laugh over her creativeness. "But I'm sure she would bring an end to him if he got too close."
Nixy shook her head. "It would be too quick for him."
It was hot and stuffy below deck, more so than usual because the ship wasn't moving and no air was flowing in through the square hatches even though they were all open. Worse was the fact they couldn't go above deck to enjoy what little breeze was available there.
Nixy kept her imaginative mind off her discomfort by coming up with creative tortures for the man who'd put the price on their head. Braxton listened to her intently, and also to the wheeling and dealings of the dwarves until he couldn't stand it.
Eventually, he decided to try and read from Taerak's journal in hopes of finding some clue to what the maps were about. For some reason, the contents of the book wouldn't stop nagging at his curiosity.
While Nixy spoke with Darblin about the use of molten lava as a torture device, Braxton took the opportunity to slip away. He went to Prism's empty stall, swept it out, and then sat, taking out his medallion and the journal. He began flipping through the pages until the jewel decided to work for him. To his great surprise, it took little effort and a few pages from the front portion of the book could be translated.
You must find the void. It is a place within yourself. It is only from this void that you can direct the power of the jewel. After you have read this passage, you must practice this lesson as often as possible. The faster you can reach this place within, the faster you can tap the power of the gem. Eventually, this will become instinctive and the response of the magic will be instantaneous to your will. But that may take years of deep concentration and determination to achieve. You must be studious in your meditation and consistent. It is not possible to spend too much time practicing this exercise for it is the root of all magics and the key to tapping the power of the jewel.
There are three parts to this exercise. The first part is all you should concern yourself with now.
Take an object, a small one, a coin, a river pebble, or a button. What you use is not relevant, only that it should be small. Place it before you on the ground, or in your open palm, and once your body is comfortable, close your eyes and relax. With each breath you exhale, remove an outside distraction from your mind. Remove the sounds and the smells, and the heat or the cold. Remove everything from your mind until the place you are in is only blackness. That is the void. Then, and only then, picture the object you've chosen in your mind. Picture it clearly. Seek out its location in relation to you. This will be easier, at first, if you keep the object in your open palm so that it's exact position will already be felt but, eventually, you must stop relying on the sense of touch to aid you.
Once the object is imagined inside the void you've created, then focus on its properties, its intricate shape, its nooks and crannies, its density, its color, and its very substance. In time, there will come a moment when your object becomes palpable, like putty. This is called the point of fluctuation. From that point, you will be able to reshape it, to move it, to make it as heavy as gold or as light as a feather. You will be able to transport it to another place or turn it to air and make it vanish completely from existence. This is the place you must find inside of you to control the jewel because, eventually, the jewel will be the object you picture in your void. Do not be discouraged if you cannot find the void or the point of fluctuation at first. It took me several years to be able to get there on a consistent basis. As with everything in life, practice will make you better and make the process easier. Now put the book away and begin the exercise. Do not use the jewel as your initial object of fluctuation, the result of such an act could be disastrous.
Braxton did as the journal instructed. He chose one of the gold coins he found in Taerak's things as his object. He sat cross-legged with his hands cupped in his lap and the gold coin resting loosely in one palm. First, he wiggled himself comfortable, then he leaned back, closed his eyes, and with each breath, tried to sink further and further into his mind, trying to find Taerak's void.
He found it easy to block out the sounds around him. The smells also vanished, although the smell of dwarf took a bit more concentration to remove. Soon, the oppressive, oven-like heat lifted away, and he found himself comfortably hovering in an empty black place. Making the coin appear was quite a bit more difficult. The familiar coins of Narvoza, he realized, didn't share the markings on the ancient coin he held. They were not the same as those on a kingdom coin at all, and recalling the strange script was no easy thing to do.
Searching deeper and deeper, he initially thought the coin in his mind was an exact replica of the one that was in his hand, but no matter how hard he tried, he co
uld go no further. Doubt over the recreated coins exactness to the real one kept creeping into his head and made further progress impossible.
He was torn away by Nixy's voice worriedly conferring with Suclair.
"Are you sure he is okay?" Nixy asked.
"Yes, he is meditating.” Suclair comforted her. "I have to do it all the time."
"But he's never done this before," Nixy grumbled. "At least I don't think so."
Braxton heard the whole conversation and decided not to let on that he was listening. He chose to sit perfectly still and eavesdrop.
"Remember when he healed the dragon yet never left the room?" Suclair asked.
"Yes," answered Nixy.
"It's sort of like that. He is in what's called a reverie, a deep meditative state."
"Well he's been like that for a long time, Sue. Is that normal? I'm starting to get worried."
"How long?"
"Since just after you took the horses from the ship this afternoon."
"Half a day is quite a while, but he appears to be okay."
Half a day? Braxton thought and almost gave himself away. He caught himself, though, and remained perfectly still hoping to hear something more.
"Should I wake him?" Nixy asked.
"He's not asleep, Nix. He is meditating," Suclair corrected. "He will come around when he's ready."
"I hope it's soon," Nixy said. "I kind of miss him."
"You miss me, huh?" Braxton blurted out unable to contain himself any longer.
"How long have you been listening?" Nixy asked angrily, but before he could answer she said, "Never mind," and stormed out of the room with Suclair in tow.
Braxton spent a moment trying to figure out her strange reaction, but the astonishing idea he had been meditating for half a day kept his mind off her. He realized the ship was moving again and sat out to find Vinston-Fret to see how things had gone on shore.
Taerak's Void Page 16
