by Clayton Wood
He was Kalibar, the greatest Battle-Weaver of his generation, perhaps the most celebrated Grand Weaver of the new Empire. The most powerful mortal Weaver in the known world. And yet, for all of his accomplishments – a lifetime of sacrifice for the Empire – he will die helpless. No matter what his decision, he will watch his world, and everything he has fought for, be destroyed.
He has already failed.
Kalibar lowered his gaze to his feet, thinking back to his mansion in Bellingham. How simple life had been then, until a young boy had appeared at his doorstep, mere inches from death. He remembered the wonder in Kyle's eyes as he'd seen magic for the first time. The same wonder when he'd walked into the Great Tower, mesmerized by the inverted lobby. Even now, Kalibar smiled at the memory.
Yes, his life had been simpler in Bellingham, but it had been empty as well. He'd filled his life with duties instead of people. He'd played it safe.
He thought back to Kyle's dreams, about Ampir, the greatest Battle-Runic of all time. Beloved of the Ancient Empire, yet even he did not stop it from being destroyed. He'd chosen his son over all else, and that son had survived. And two thousand years later, Ampir's grandson had returned to this, the new Empire. Kyle's was a life made possible only by the destruction of the Ancients, the end result of Ampir's impossible decision.
Now that boy, Ampir's legacy, was somewhere far away, making his way toward the very man who had destroyed the Ancients. Ampir's grandson, alive only at the expense of the old Empire, was risking his life to save the new one.
And here Kalibar stood, the man whose sole responsibility was to protect the Empire, doing nothing.
* * *
Kyle stabbed his fork into the steaming fish on his plate, eagerly bringing the well-seasoned meat to his mouth. He devoured it with the bare minimum of chewing, swallowing it nearly whole. Then he dipped into the fish again, desperate to sate his incredible hunger. He'd never been so hungry in his life; he knew that it was on account of the incredible amount of magic he'd used only an hour ago. He polished off his plate in minutes, and despite the fact that it’d been heaping with food, he was not nearly satisfied. He looked up, seeing the Captain, Grotes, and Ariana staring at him from across the table.
“I have never seen a man, nor a boy, so ravenous in my life,” the Captain declared. “Get our hero another plate,” he ordered a nearby servant. Within moments, a fresh plate appeared before Kyle, and he dove into it with unfettered delight.
“You aren't eating,” Grotes told Ariana, who had insisted on not being given a plate. Of course she'd been given one anyway, much to her obvious consternation.
“I don't eat,” she stated for the third time. This did not sit well with Grotes, who frowned at her.
“Everyone eats, girl,” he grumbled.
“How long until we get to Verhan?” she asked, changing the subject. Grotes glanced at the Captain, who cleared his throat.
“That has become a complicated question,” the Captain answered. Ariana frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“The warship that attacked us,” the Captain explained, “...was a Verhanian military vessel.” He paused, rapping his knuckles on the table. “It appears I am no longer welcome in Verhan.”
“Wait,” Kyle blurted out between gulps of food. “What do you mean?”
“Besides the fact that we've destroyed a Verhanian warship,” the Captain replied, “...and employed Weavers to do so, no less, I must assume that the warship attacked us on orders.”
“But why?”
“Well,” the Captain replied, rubbing his chin for a moment. “We have, from time to time, engaged in practices that have been...less than lawful.”
“You're criminals?” Ariana exclaimed, her eyes widening. Grotes put both hands up defensively.
“Hold on,” he interjected. “We've shipped depleted runics to wealthy patrons back in Verhan from time to time, that's all.”
“So you let us attack the good guys?” Ariana exclaimed incredulously. She turned to Kyle. “I don't believe this!”
“The only reason you're still alive is because you did that,” Grotes retorted. “They would’ve killed you without a second thought. You're undocumented Weavers being illegally smuggled into the country.”
“Great,” Ariana muttered.
“And this won't be the last attack,” the Captain piped in. “One doesn't send a single warship to intercept another ship in the deep ocean. I guarantee there are other warships patrolling our route...and that the odds of meeting one will increase the closer we sail to Orja.”
“So unless you're willing to defend us again,” Grotes stated, “...we're all dead men.”
Ariana turned to Kyle, who stared at the tabletop, drumming his fingers on its polished surface. Then he snapped his fingers, looking up.
“We could make the ship invisible,” he declared. All three pairs of eyes stared at him blankly.
“Invisible,” Grotes stated slowly. “The entire ship.”
“Well why not?” Kyle asked. He turned to Ariana. “We could use the invisibility pattern to hide it from the other warships.”
“Kyle, there's no way we could make a field that large,” Ariana protested.
“Why not?” Kyle countered. “It's just a matter of how much magic we use...and I make a lot.” And that was an understatement; Kyle made even more magic than Kalibar now. It was one thing Kyle did better than anyone else.
“But I don't,” Ariana reminded him. “And you have to sleep sometime. We can't keep a field that large going all day and night.”
“We can if we make a runic to do it for us,” Kyle insisted. He turned back to the Captain, feeling the same burst of excitement he'd felt when he'd first told Master Banar about the K-Array. “Do you have any large crystals?” he asked.
“We're carrying quartz blocks,” the Captain replied. “In various colors. We sell them to high-end optics manufacturers to make tinted lenses.”
“Can I see them?” Kyle pressed. The Captain nodded.
“Of course,” he replied. “What are you planning?”
“Quartz stores magic pretty well,” Kyle stated. “If I can get a big enough crystal, it should be able to hold enough magic to power the invisibility field while I'm sleeping.”
“I'll bring you down to the cargo hold after we finish eating,” Grotes offered. Kyle remembered his still-grumbling belly, and dug in to his food, making quick work of it. He thought about asking for a third plate, but decided against it. He looked up to find the others having long since finished their own meals. They were looking at him with funny expressions on their faces.
“What?” he asked.
“Never seen a boy your size eat like that,” Grotes admitted. “You sure you're done?” Kyle nodded, wiping his mouth with his napkin.
“So now what?” he asked. The Captain sighed.
“Now we change course,” he replied. “We'll seek amnesty northeast of Verhan, in the Shimmering Isle.” Grotes nodded.
“Our cargo should more than pay our way,” he agreed. “And they don't extradite to Verhan.”
“Wait,” Ariana interjected. “We need to get to Verhan!”
“That's out of the question,” the Captain retorted. “We'd never make it to port alive.”
“But...”
“We appreciate your help,” Grotes interrupted. “We really do. But we can't risk the lives of every man on this ship just to get you there.”
“So what are we supposed to do?” she pressed. The Captain raised one eyebrow.
“Why do you need to get to Verhan?” he asked. Ariana glanced at Kyle, who cleared his throat. He thought about lying, but there really wasn't any point.
“We don't,” Kyle admitted. “We need to get somewhere nearby.”
“Can you be more specific?” Grotes pressed. Kyle paused, then nodded at Ariana. She glowered at him, but reached down to the one of the backpacks at her feet, retrieving the rolled-up map. Grotes and the Captain cleared the
dishes near her, and she unrolled the map on the tabletop. She pointed to the small red circle northwest of Verhan.
“That's where we need to go,” she told them.
“Let me see that,” the Captain said, slipping on a pair of reading glasses and peering at the map. He frowned, jerking his eyes up to look at Kyle, then Ariana. “That's the Barrens,” he declared.
“The Barrens?” Kyle asked. The Captain stared at Kyle for a long moment. Then he leaned back in his chair.
“You're telling me,” he stated, “...that you need to get to the Barrens, and you don't even know what it is?”
“We need to get to wherever this is,” Ariana replied, tapping her index finger on the red circle. “That's all you need to know.”
“Well that isn't all you need to know,” the Captain declared, his tone suddenly sharp. “...because going anywhere close to the Barrens is suicide.”
“Why?” Kyle asked.
“The Barrens,” the Captain replied, “...is surrounded by the Barren forest, which is inhabited by a tribe of extraordinarily dangerous savages.” He sat back in his chair. “I'll give you both credit, you're skilled Weavers. But I can guarantee they're much, much better.”
“Wait, they're Weavers?” Kyle asked. The Captain nodded. “I thought magic was forbidden in Verhan.”
“It is,” the Captain agreed. “But we're not about to tell the Barren tribes that. Our military won't go near their forest, not with all the Neutralizers in Orja.”
“I don't get it,” Kyle said. “If you can neutralize any magic, why can't you go near the forest?”
“Neutralizers don't work on them,” Grotes explained. “And don't ask why, 'cause nobody knows.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But we do know this: they will kill anyone that enters their territory. It doesn't matter how powerful you think you are...you go to the Barrens, you die.”
“Who are these people?” Ariana asked. The Captain rubbed his chin.
“No one is quite sure,” he admitted. “Our anthropologists suggest they're descendants of the original tribes that lived around the Barrens before the first Empire massacred our ancestors.” He gave Ariana a tight smile. “Even your Ancients failed to conquer those tribes...and they were much better Weavers than any alive today.”
“How do we get there?” Ariana pressed. The Captain and Grotes glanced at each other, then back at her.
“I don't think you're hearing us right,” Grotes muttered. Ariana leaned over the table, unfazed.
“What do you care?” she retorted. “It's our funeral. Just tell us where to go.”
The Captain stared at her for a long time, drumming his fingers on the table agitatedly. Then he shifted in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The Barrens is northwest of Verhan, on the mainland,” he stated, pointing at the red circle on the map. “We're going to the Shimmering Isle, which is an island city north of Verhan, and twenty miles from the coast. If you go due west from the Shimmering Isle when we hit port,” he continued, tracing his finger from a small set of islands west to the coastline, “...you'll be about one hundred-fifty miles from the Barrens.”
“But how do we find the Barrens after we get to the coast?” Kyle asked. The Captain frowned at him.
“Ideally you'd have a compass and a detailed topographical map,” he replied. “Which this,” he added, pointing at the map, “...is not.”
“Well that's no help,” Kyle grumbled. Grotes smirked.
“The Barrens are at the foot of a mountain range,” he stated. “The Barren forest is south of the tallest mountain. You can't miss it.”
“What does the mountain look like?” Ariana asked.
“Like a damn mountain,” Grotes replied. “You can't miss it.”
Ariana glanced at Kyle, who nodded. It wasn't what they'd planned, but it was better than nothing. At least they knew where to go now. But they hadn't counted on the Barren tribes. If these people were as dangerous as the Captain and Grotes believed them to be, how were Ariana and Kyle possibly going to get past them?
“Drop us off at the Shimmering Isle then,” Ariana stated. The Captain shrugged.
“Very well,” he replied. “I will do as you ask. But I do believe that you, young girl, were absolutely right.” Ariana blinked.
“About what?”
“It's your funeral,” he answered.
* * *
The morning sun rose above the horizon as Kyle stared at the twenty-odd translucent cubes sitting on the wooden deck of the Defiance, casting the ship in an orange glow. The deck rose upward under his feet as the ship sailed over a particularly large wave, making him feel a bit queasy. He reached into one of the many pockets in his shirt, retrieving the gutroot Slim had given him the day before, and bit off a piece, chewing it vigorously.
“What now?” Ariana asked. She was standing a few feet away, as were Slim and a few other sailors Kyle didn't recognize.
“First I need to inscribe the invisibility rune in one of these blocks,” Kyle answered, gesturing at the quartz cubes. Each was roughly the size of a basketball, and was incredibly heavy, hence the sailors. “I'll need to experiment until I get the size of the field right.” He glanced at Slim. “It might take a while.”
“Go to it Guts,” Slim stated. “We're yours for as long as you need us.” Kyle nodded, then got to it. The thicker the threads of the rune, the larger the field would be. He started inscribing the invisibility pattern, making the threads thicker than he'd ever made them before. When he was done, he stood back, then streamed magic to the cube. When he looked up from it, he saw the faint blue of the invisibility field some thirty feet away. Beyond that, sailors turned to stare, their eyes wide with wonder.
“Too small,” Kyle muttered, cutting off his magic stream. He tried inscribing again, using the same crystal, making the threads twice as thick as before. He streamed magic again, and saw the blue field some eighty feet away...about halfway to the ship's prow. He turned around, seeing the field extending halfway again, to the rear of the ship...as well as the first field. “Well then,” he murmured.
“What's wrong?” Ariana asked. Kyle cut off his magic stream.
“I'm burning through magic pretty quickly even at this size,” Kyle replied. “I don't think any of these cubes will be big enough to power a full-sized field for very long.” He focused on the quartz crystal again, now with two runes inscribed in it. He created a third rune, this with threads three times the thickness of the first. When he streamed magic to it, three fields appeared: the first two, and a third field that extended a few feet past the prow of the ship...and from the rear as well. He turned his gaze upward to the mizzen-mast – the rearmost mast of the ship, the only one still standing – and found the field easily extending above it.
“Got it,” he declared, cutting off his magic stream. It'd taken a formidable amount of magic to power the three fields; he stood, walking to another quartz cube, crouching before it. He recreated the third field, then tested it, again making sure that the resulting field encompassed the ship...which it did. He stood up, staring at the cube for a long moment.
“What're you thinking, Guts?” Slim asked.
“I need to figure out if the field is warping light correctly,” he answered. “Too much or too little, and people will notice.”
“Why don't you fly beyond the field, and see what it looks like,” Ariana offered. Kyle nodded.
“Can you power the cube while I do that?” he asked.
“Sure.”
Kyle streamed magic to his boots, rising upward and forward from the deck. He soared past the prow – and the edge of the field – turning around as he did so. He saw the ocean before him...and nothing else.
So far, so good.
He continued to fly backward, rising up as he did so. It was then that he noticed a rim of color outlining the massive sphere of the gravity field; while the center of the field was perfectly invisible, the edges were well, sort of like looking into a magnify
ing glass. The ocean was distorted. He sighed, flying back toward the ship. When he passed the edge of the invisibility field, the Defiance blinked into existence before him. He flew down beside Ariana.
“How is it?” she asked.
“It's close,” he replied. “A little too weak, I think. I'll tweak it using another cube.”
“It uses a lot of magic,” Ariana warned. “I don't know how much longer I could've powered it for.”
“I know,” Kyle muttered. He'd have to figure out a solution to that. But getting the field right came first. He squatted over the cube, staring at it. He knew how to make the invisibility field larger, but Master Lee had never taught him how to manipulate the strength of a runic. He'd learned how to make a flame larger or smaller, and even how to make it float higher or lower, but not hotter. He'd never gotten far enough in his lessons to learn that. Which meant he had no idea how to make the invisibility field stronger.
Well, he was just going to have to figure it out for himself.
He frowned, thinking it through. The thickness of the thread corresponded to the amount of magic he put into a pattern while weaving. The greater the distance of the rune from the surface of the cube, the farther away the pattern was woven – just as when he tossed magic outward great distances with his mind. So what determined how much magic was streamed to the rune?
Then he had an idea; every rune had a thread attaching it to the surface of the mineral, one that wasn't technically part of the pattern. What if he made that thread thicker or thinner? He found the thread, and widened it ever-so-slightly. Then he stood up.
“Let's try it now,” he stated. Ariana shook her head.
“I don't have enough magic.”
“I'll stream some to you,” Kyle offered. He pushed magic toward her, until she held up one hand.
“Okay, go ahead.”
Kyle nodded, flying upward and forward once again. He passed the invisibility field quickly, and kept going until he was far away. When he finally turned to look back at the ship, he saw nothing at all...just the rolling ocean under the perfect blue sky – and the faint blue of the field's magic. Then his eye caught a strange irregularity in the ocean waves, a subtle rippling effect at the edges. It was barely visible, only evident because he knew where to look. A consequence of the field passing through the ocean, no doubt. It would have to do.
