by Clayton Wood
“He's corrupt,” Ampir explains, as if it were obvious all along.
“How was I supposed to know that?” Sabin retorts. Ampir rolls his eyes.
“He’s a politician.”
“So am I,” Sabin retorts. “But I’m not corrupt.” And it's true. He never had to resort to that, and never would.
“You're naïve.”
“How can you be so damn...” Sabin begins, then stops himself, taking a deep breath in, then letting it out. “I was just trying to do the right thing.”
“Think strategically,” Ampir retorts. “Politics is war. Your colleagues are your enemies. Blindly charging at a more powerful enemy is suicide.”
“Maybe so,” Sabin concedes. “But I had to do something.”
“All you did was almost get yourself killed.”
Sabin lowers his gaze, unable to refute the obvious truth. He'd acted on impulse, doing exactly as Ampir said...threatening Nespo without really thinking about what he was doing. He should have gone straight to Ampir first. There was no need to go out on his own, making himself a target.
Then Sabin jerks his head back up, staring at his own reflection in Ampir's visor.
“Almost?” he asks. “I almost got myself killed? What does that...”
“I'm getting you out of here,” Ampir interrupts. Sabin's eyes widen, and he lets out a single, barking laugh, clutching at Ampir's arms. He laughs again, his eyes filling with tears, and he embraces the silent Battle-Runic. Then he pushes himself back, staring into that mirrored visor.
“Thank you,” Sabin says, his voice cracking. “Thank you Ampir!”
“Don't mention it,” Ampir replies. “Seriously, don't.”
“My lips are sealed,” Sabin promises. Then he frowns, staring up at the ceiling again. “How are we going to escape?”
“The same way I got in,” Ampir answers. Sabin's eyebrows knit together.
“How did you get in here?” he asks. Ampir smirks, and Sabin feels a slight vibration in his skull. He feels his eyelids growing heavy, the urge to sleep overwhelming. He slumps into Ampir’s arms.
“I blinked,” Ampir replies.
* * *
Kalibar squinted against the fading sunlight, using one hand as a visor to shield his eyes as he stared out of the window of the carriage that raced across the highway leading toward his estate in Bellingham. It wasn't the usual horse-drawn carriage he'd used during his retirement; it was a levitating carriage without a horse, steered by the dozen elite guards levitating all around it. It was capable of taking him from Stridon all the way to his mansion in Bellingham in a few hours, a trip that would've taken three full days by horse-drawn carriage. He'd undertaken the trip a few hours after notifying the Council of his decision to take his vacation.
That had not gone well.
Councilman Goran had led the impassioned revolt against the very idea of Kalibar leaving, citing the terrible timing, what with the recent attack on the city. How could Kalibar even think of taking time off for leisure at a time like this? Not to mention what the citizens of Stridon might think, knowing their esteemed leader was off vacationing while Xanos lurked in every shadow, ready to strike. Kalibar had listened patiently, having expected such a reaction. When Goran had finished, Kalibar had simply replied that he felt he was leaving the Empire in excellent hands, what with Goran taking over the office of Grand Weaver temporarily. That silenced Goran – to refute it would be to refute his own abilities, something the man was loathe to do – and to the rest, Kalibar said that he planned on spending his vacation pondering the proper strategy for dealing with Xanos once and for all. This, he'd proposed, was something he simply could not do effectively while shouldering the many burdens of his office.
Surprisingly, that had worked.
The carriage slowed, then came to a stop before the grand front doors of Kalibar's mansion, parking on the dark brown cobblestone driveway. An elite guard opened the carriage door for Kalibar, and Kalibar stepped down, his black boots clicking on the stone below. He nodded at his guards, then walked up to the front double-doors of his retirement home, hardly surprised when the doors opened before he'd even reached them. Out stepped his property manager, a short, studious man wearing glasses and a gray suit. The man's name was Reo, and he had proven to be a most trustworthy and capable man in the six years that Kalibar had known him.
“Welcome back Master,” Reo greeted. “Grand Weaver,” he corrected immediately, with obvious embarrassment. Kalibar smiled.
“Good to be back Reo,” he replied. He noticed his elite guards fanning out around him, some walking into the mansion while others made their way into the front yard. They were ensuring the mansion's security, of course. Not that it was likely to be necessary; when Kalibar had started his second term as Grand Weaver, the mansion had undergone a complete security overhaul. He'd nearly been assassinated here only a month or so ago, after all. “How is your family?”
“Quite well,” Reo answered. “Carla and the boys went fishing today at the pond.”
“Glad to hear it,” Kalibar replied. “Any outstanding issues with the property?”
“No Master,” Reo answered. “Everything is running smoothly.”
“And my accounts?” Kalibar pressed. His fortune – a considerable one at that – was also managed by Reo, along with a team of gifted accountants and lawyers. Reo sighed.
“Your investments suffered with the recent attack on Stridon,” he admitted. “But you'll find that they are still quite healthy. The market is recovering slowly.”
“Indeed,” Kalibar murmured, only half-listening. He was rich beyond the wildest dreams of his youth, wealthy enough not to care about money anymore. It was only a tool now, a means to an end. He'd mentioned it to Reo purely to make the property manager feel that his efforts were acknowledged, so that he would feel fulfilled in his role. That was what most people wanted, after all...to be acknowledged. “Well done Reo,” he said, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”
“It was nothing,” Reo replied. But the man was clearly pleased. “Is there anything you'll be requiring for your vacation?”
“I will be spending it in my laboratory,” Kalibar answered. Reo nodded.
“The usual rules, sire?” he inquired. Kalibar nodded. He'd spent much of his retirement here in his laboratory in the basement, reading and experimenting with magic. He'd been known to spend days, if not weeks, holed up in there, emerging only for meals and his evening exercise. Reo knew exactly what Kalibar wanted: no interruptions, no visitors, no questions asked.
“I'll prepare my own meals,” Kalibar informed the man. “No one is to disturb me for any reason.”
“As you wish,” Reo replied, bowing deeply. “Will there be anything else?”
“No.”
Reo turned about and left, and Kalibar stepped into the foyer of his mansion and looked around. The mansion was just as he'd left it, with yellow-painted walls and elaborate white crown-molding where the walls met the ceiling some twelve feet above. A wide staircase led up to the second floor, the two archways flanking it leading further into the first floor. It was instantly familiar, but somehow foreign. While it was still his house, it no longer felt like home. Even his suite back in the Tower felt strangely empty without Kyle and Ariana there...and without Darius.
Where was Darius, anyway? The bodyguard had left for his vacation days ago, and had never returned. It was unlike the man to be late, or at least it had been. Darius had proven unreliable during the attack on the Tower a little over two weeks ago as well. Kalibar hated to think that he'd have to demote the man, given that he still owed Darius his life...several times over, in fact. He would have to have a talk with Darius when the bodyguard returned.
Kalibar sighed then, snapping out of his reverie and striding across the foyer. He walked through the left archway, continuing down a long hallway until he came to a door near the end, on the left. He spotted a faint blue tint to it, evidence of its magical nature
. With a thought, he wove the pattern to unlock the door, and it swung open without him having to touch it. Beyond, there was a narrow staircase that led down to the basement...to his laboratory. He paused before it, wondering how many times in the last six years he'd made this same journey, walking down this stairwell to spend countless hours below. He felt a pang of regret, and wondered how much of his life he'd wasted down there, distracting himself from truly living. All those years of research, and nothing to show for it.
He sighed again, then stepped through the doorway and made his way down the stairwell. It turned left, then left again, ending before enough magically sealed door. Kalibar opened this as he'd done for the first, and walked into his laboratory.
The first thing that struck him was the smell. He'd forbidden anyone from entering his laboratory since he'd had it built in the mansion's basement over six years ago, including the cleaning staff. As a result, a fine layer of dust had settled over everything, leaving a musty smell in the air. He looked around, spotting the familiar rows of tables with various gemstones neatly categorized by type on each, a reminder of the last project he'd worked on here, the very day Darius had brought Kyle to his door, in fact. He'd been trying to recreate Sabin's research into magic vacuity, methodically filling various gemstones with magic, then measuring the rate of flow between them and an empty reference gem...a diamond. That particular experiment had been done before – every Runic student had to perform it – but Kalibar had taken it a step further, draining himself, then measuring how quickly he could drain magic from each filled gemstone, and comparing it to the reference diamond. He'd found that the magic vacuity of his brain was a hundredfold greater than that of an empty diamond.
Which, according to classical magicodynamics, was impossible.
Kalibar walked up to one of the tables, passing his fingers over a large chunk of hematite. How he'd wracked his brain to reconcile his findings with everything else he'd known about magic! He'd spent weeks running his experiment over and over again, with the same results. He'd assumed his experiment was flawed somehow, and had all but abandoned the experiment by the time Kyle had come into his life. He'd taken solace in the fact that the great Sabin himself had failed to uncover his theoretical “void mineral,” dying before ever managing to isolate it.
But of course, Sabin hadn't died. And he had discovered the void mineral...
Kalibar closed his eyes, picturing the Void sphere. Sabin's masterful invention, so elegantly simple yet so deadly. Able to drain magic out of everything around it, then use that magic to destroy those it drained. It had even, for a single moment back in the Tower lobby, managed to drain Kalibar's will to live.
Kalibar opened his eyes, and stared at the gems on the table in front of him, his mind starting to churn. The Void sphere somehow managed to suck in magic at great distances, something regular gemstones could not do. Normally, even an empty diamond would not pull any measurable magic from a full gem that was more than a foot away. The greater the distance between gems, the less magic would be exchanged...to double the distance would decrease the magic exchange by eight times. But the Void sphere had drained magic from objects throughout the entire lobby...a massive room indeed. The question was...how?
Kalibar stared through the table, his mind in full gear now, ticking through the possibilities.
The more empty a gem was, the greater the vacuity of that gem...in other words, the more strongly it would drain magic from objects around it. A truly empty gem – completely empty, something nearly impossible to achieve unless dipping it into the deep ocean for long periods of time – had nearly infinite magic vacuity. If one could maintain a crystal at near-absolute zero magic, that crystal's vacuity would remain enormously high, exponentially higher than if it had even a tiny amount of magic left in it.
Kalibar realized his eyes were stinging, he'd held them open for so long. He blinked, then put a hand up to his right earlobe. It still ached a bit from having it pierced earlier today; he'd had a universal translator placed there, a handy device to have when traveling to foreign lands. He fiddled with it absently, staring off into space again.
The Void sphere had sucked magic in, then used magic to power its gravity fields. But Kalibar distinctly remembered its magic-draining ability rapidly waning right before it activated those fields. What if the sphere had been sucking in magic, then using that magic to power some invisible process? What if it had been draining itself of magic at the same time it had been draining everything else, using it all up to keep itself at near-absolute zero?
Goosebumps rose on the backs of Kalibar's forearms.
What if the mind did the same thing?
He stepped back from the table then, staring at the gems there. He spotted a fist-sized diamond at the end, and walked up to it, filling it with magic until a pale blue glow emanated from its surface. Then he backed up, until he was some fifteen feet away. He stared at the diamond for a long moment, then pulled at its magic with his mind.
A thin blue line shot out from it, right at his forehead.
“My god,” he breathed, his pulse quickening. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “I'll be damned.”
All minerals theoretically reached near-infinite vacuity at absolute zero magic. Getting a mineral to lose almost all of its magic was enormously difficult...and far more so the greater its magic vacuity. Which meant that the easiest mineral to get to near-zero wouldn't be the one with the highest magic vacuity...it would be the one with the lowest.
“I'll be damned,” Kalibar swore, shaking his head slowly. Then he laughed. He turned away from the table, laughing again, then sprinted back through the doorway he'd come from, taking the stairs three at a time. He burst through the door at the top, running down the hallways until he reached the large foyer.
“Reo!” he cried, feeling an elation he hadn't experienced in years. “Reo!”
His property manager burst through one of the foyer's many doors, looking quite harried. He was followed rapidly by half a dozen elite guards.
“Grand Weaver,” one of them exclaimed. “Are you all right?”
“All right?” Kalibar retorted with a grin. “I'm fantastic!” He grabbed Reo's shoulders with both hands, shaking the poor man a bit. “Get me a pen and a letter at once!”
“Yes Master,” Reo stated immediately, looking quite bewildered. But he did as he was commanded, leaving quickly and returning moments later with the requested items. Kalibar took these, placing the letter on the wall nearest him, and wrote quickly. Reo stared at him for a long moment, stealing nervous glances at the elite guards.
“May I ask what has happened?” he inquired meekly. Kalibar ignored the question until he was done writing, and folded the paper, handing it to one of his elite guards.
“You are to take this letter to Grand Runic Erasmus immediately,” he ordered. “No eyes but his will read it.”
“Yes, Grand Weaver,” the guard replied, saluting sharply, then leaving at once. Kalibar watched him go, feeling suddenly so happy that he could kiss someone.
“Master, are you all right?” Reo asked. “What happened?”
“You know of Sabin?” Kalibar asked. Reo nodded.
“The Ancient traitor, I presume?” he asked. Kalibar nodded.
“Also one of the most creative minds in the history of magic,” he added.
“What of him?”
“I saw his glorious mind, for a moment,” Kalibar answered. “As I was following in his footsteps.”
Reo just stared at him, clearly bewildered. Kalibar sighed, suddenly wishing he'd never left the Tower...that he could run to Erasmus and tell him what he'd discovered in person. What he wouldn't give to see his old friend's face when he read his letter! The man would be overjoyed...and furious that Kalibar – a Weaver, no less – had thought of it first.
“My experiments are going well,” he explained. Then he cleared his throat. “I suppose I should get back to them.”
“Yes Master, Gran
d Weaver,” Reo stated, backing up, then turning away and escaping the foyer. Kalibar watched him go, then made his way back down to his laboratory, standing before his rows of gem-topped tables once again. He'd come down here for a reason, after all...as an excuse to vanish for a week without anyone asking questions, and without anyone looking for him. It was vital that no one knew what he was really up to...flying on a suicide mission to help his children finish what Ampir had started.
He took a deep breath in, then let it out slowly, feeling his elation slowly wane. Then he strode across the lab to one of the sinks at one end, staring at himself in the mirror above it. Short white hair, brown eyes with crow's feet radiating out from the sides, a narrow nose, and a firm, square jaw. He supposed he looked the part of a Grand Weaver, still handsome despite his years. He'd been lucky in many ways, to be possessed of an agile mind and a strong will, to say nothing of his looks. He'd resisted any pride in these qualities of his, knowing that they were a circumstance of his birth, and had little to do with any accomplishment of his own.
He took a straight razor from his pocket, raising it to his scalp, pausing at his hairline. He took another deep breath, then got to work.
Chapter 24
Kyle crawled out of the musty tunnel toward the forest surrounding Petra's home inside of the hill, sneezing as the dust kicked up by his passage tickled his nostrils. He saw sunlight shining through the thin branches of the bush that hid the tunnel's entrance, and crawled up to it, lowering his head and closing his eyes as he pushed his way through. The branches scratched at his face and ears, but he ignored them, continuing onward until he was standing on the forest floor. Sunlight cascaded through the lush forest canopy, a slight breeze rustling the green leaves. Kyle noticed for the first time that the leaves did not glow, undoubtedly due to a lack of magic. Tavek and Machete were standing before him; they'd crawled through the tunnel ahead of him, so that he wouldn't get any foolish notions of trying to escape.
Kyle heard a scraping noise behind him, and saw Ariana emerging from the tunnel, followed by Petra. The tribal Weaver had allowed Ariana to borrow a black uniform similar to the one she herself wore, and it clung to Ariana tightly. Apparently the material – whatever it was – insulated against magic loss. There was a hood of sorts hanging from the back of the uniform at Ariana's neck, and she pulled it up over her head. It was a bit like a ninja mask, covering everything but her lower forehead and eyes. It was quite effective, Kyle realized; he could only see the faintest blue glow leaking from around her eyes.
