“Hello Collin.”
Collin smiled back. “Gentlemen!”
Colin was a fairly short mage who had fought in the battles at Ror with both Ja’tar and Zedd’aki. He was one of the few in the Keep who didn’t sport a full beard.
He took one look at Zedd’aki’s stomach and chuckled. “Did you leave any of Gretta’s meat pies for me?”
Zedd’aki roared. “Maybe one or two. I’m so stuffed, I had to sit down and rest before heading down to the library.”
Collin eyed Zedd’aki’s bulging stomach. “I admit, they’re good. I tend to eat too many myself.”
“Well then, you best get to the kitchen before the rest disappear,” Ja’tar said, “or Zedd’aki decides to go back and have seconds!”
Collin showed a wide smile and turned to go. “I’d hate to miss out. I guess I will see you in the library later.”
“Later then!” Zedd’aki said, watching him move away before he opened the journal, lowered his eyes and continued reading. His eyes scanned back and forth across the page while Ja’tar watched carefully for changes in his demeanor. “Did he have to write so bloody small? I can barely make out the letters.”
“I thought we were headed up to my room?”
“We were, but now that I’ve sat down...”
“Well, make yourself at home...”
Zedd’aki grunted and continued scanning the tiny text, muttering under his breath now and then when something surprised him.
Ja’tar grew impatient. “What do you think?”
Zedd’aki slid the note between the pages and set the notebook down, sliding it across the table to Ja’tar. Ja’tar picked it up and stuffed it into his robe’s pocket. “Well?”
Zedd’aki harrumphed. “I think that Dra’kor will try his best to provide us any information he thinks is relevant. I’m just a little concerned that he may overlook something. He’s not exactly a trained seasoned observer like a watcher. I’m troubled he will neglect things that he deems to be inconsequential.”
“I agree,” Ja’tar echoed, standing up and pushing his stool in to the table.
Zedd’aki followed his lead. “You know, sometimes it’s the most seemingly insignificant detail that provides the greatest insight into the problem. Dra’kor doesn’t hit me as overly detail-oriented.”
Ja’tar glowered. “He’s the best we have; we’ll have to make do. What choice do we have?”
Zedd’aki thought for a few seconds before responding. “I agree with you, I don’t think we have many options here. I’m afraid we’ll need to work with what we have.”
Ja’tar grabbed the dining room door and pulled it open, holding it for his friend. For a few seconds they walked down the main hallway in silence.
Ja’tar rubbed his eyes. “Zedd’aki. I’m frustrated. I went out yesterday to unearth answers and I came back with additional problems and questions. I’m at a loss for what to do next.”
“I just wish I would have known you were going out,” Zedd’aki said, shaking his head in resignation. “I could have kept an eye out for you, or guarded the gate.”
“I know, I know. I don’t need a lecture.”
“But you do ... you take unnecessary risks.”
“I just needed some time to myself ...”
Zedd’aki searched his friend’s face. “I understand, but just the same! You took a risk without weighing the cost.”
“Don’t think that I don’t hear you…” Ja’tar said defensively.
Zedd’aki frowned. “Do you? Do you really hear me?”
“I-I made a shrine to my sister.”
Zedd’aki’s eyebrows rose, and his expression went blank.
Ja’tar’s eyes welled up. “I went outside to think about her, and just kept walking.”
“And” Zedd’aki demanded.
“I didn’t originally think I was going to venture that far from the Keep. I thought that maybe I’d go just across the bridge. I just kept walking. I stopped in that clearing where she used to play as a child, under the cliffs. I was thinking about her and decided to make a shrine.”
Zedd’aki’s eyes widened. “You remember this?”
“I guess I do, or maybe I don’t. It could be that I know it because of my journal.”
‘So, which is it?”
Ja’tar smiled, “I remember the shrine. I don’t recall making it.”
They reached the staircase that led up to the Tower of the Ten and started the final leg of the journey to Ja’tar’s room.
Zedd’aki reflected on what Ja’tar said. “I suppose that’s because you used the old magic?”
“One could presume that I did—but who’s to say? I didn’t write down any details about that in my journal.”
“So nothing has changed?”
“Not as far as I can tell,” Ja’tar spat, irritated at his inattention to detail.
Zedd’aki stared out the window at the peaks of the Winseer mountains. “What did you expect?”
“I didn’t expect it to be so ... so ...”
“So what, difficult?” Zedd’aki finished, turning his attention back to the conversation.
“Right. Difficult.” Ja’tar said thoughtfully. “Actually, I thought I’d be done with it and the glamour would be gone by now.”
“It’s not like you to be so overly optimistic,” Zedd’aki answered snidely.
Ja’tar arched his brow and leered at his friend. “The glamour was so complicated; I couldn’t even identify the one source. It just was!”
“Well, at least there is some good news! Seems Dra’kor will be able to contact some of the old Guild members. That should help.”
“We’ll see. It could be a lot more difficult than he makes it sound. You understand that I still have grave reservations about the Guild?”
“Point noted. Hagra probably still has contacts. Who do you think he’s going to contact, anyway?”
“The Elves, Sharron, maybe the Dwarves, Ironfist if he’s still alive. It would be better if he could contact the Kings,” Ja’tar added.
The corner of Zedd’aki’s mouth quivered. “The Kings? Are you daft? Don’t tell the Kings anything!”
Ja’tar winced at Zedd’aki’s traduce tromping of royalty, “Daft? I would think that the Kings would be especially useful here. They have a vested interest if their lands are under attack. We’ll need their help.”
“You think? If I recall correctly, the Kings were all self-serving and wanted to make all the decisions, even when they were wrong. There’s no telling a king he’s wrong! They think they have some divine right ...”
Ja’tar felt a little hopeless, “I see your point, but I’m not sure we can do this without their help. A lot of time has passed since then, maybe things are different now.”
Zedd’aki was surprised, “They can help us do what exactly? We don’t even know what it is we’re doing yet. By the Ten, we don’t even know who our enemy is.”
“Doesn’t really matter does it? We aren’t powerful like we used to be. It’s been a long time since any of us have held discussions with the kings. Darkhalla! For all I know, there may not even be any kings.”
“Bah! Kings never change. Never!” Zedd’aki spat.
Zedd’aki continued to rant, “Do we really know we have an enemy?”
“I-I ...”
“Well, do we? You keep talking as if this is an absolute certainty. I’m not convinced it is.”
“If we have no enemy, then where are all the demons coming from?” Ja’tar countered angrily.
Zedd’aki shrugged, “I ... hope it’s just —”
“There is no just! Demons don’t just appear. You know that, so stop supposing and get your head back down to earth.”
“I guess you are right,” Zedd’aki sighed after being scolded. “I was just hoping ...”
“There is no room for hope either ... we have no reason to hope.”
Zedd’aki closed his eyes and shook his head. He didn’t know if Ja’tar was right, but he ceded the point t
hat they had enemies, or at least an enemy. He hoped for the later. He was still optimistic and had hope, even if his friend did not. If you lost all hope ....
Ja’tar was put off by his friend’s comments. “Never mind that. We know we have at least one foe and that he or they are powerful. We’ll need the help of the kings and their armies to help combat the demons. There aren’t enough of us to do it all.”
They stopped in front of the door and Ja’tar released his wards. They entered the room and Ja’tar flicked his fingers, lighting a fire in the fireplace to take the chill off. He walked to the windows and opened the curtains, letting in the light.
“Do you remember the skree?” Ja’tar asked, sitting down and putting his feet up on the ottoman.
Zedd’aki shook his head, “No, can’t say I do. The name’s not familiar. Should I remember the name?”
“Probably not,” Ja’tar said, lowering his face, “but I remember the skree. If I recall correctly, they’re hunter-scavengers from the second plane. They were used during Ror to clean up the killing fields. The fact that they’re roaming the realms doesn’t bode well. It also means something brought them here.”
“You actually remember them?”
Ja’tar’s eyes got wide. “I do.”
“I wonder why that is. I can’t remember them at all.”
“They were in the early years of the war. Maybe you weren’t around then. But I can definitely remember them,” Ja’tar grinned.
“They were bad?”
“They were very nasty. Think carnivorous eating machine covered with bone armor!” Ja’tar grimaced.
Zedd’aki sat still.
“They had some weak magic too, although maybe they were imbued by the Ten. I don’t think their magic was intrinsic. I think the Ten summoned them, but how they found out about skree—who knows?”
“I remember them now,” Zedd’aki blurted out. “Didn’t we used to keep them penned up out back and send them into the fields after the battles to finish the job and clean up the mess?”
Ja’tar’s face turned white. “Out back? You said out back. Out back where?”
Zedd’aki looked bewildered. “I-I-I don’t really know where, only that we kept them out back.”
“When you said that, I got a flash of another place. Then it was gone. Crap!”
“Another place? What do you mean by that?”
“Another place, another Keep, a castle, a place ... I just don’t know, but it wasn’t here!”
“This is perplexing,” Zedd’aki said, rubbing his temples.
“I’m beginning to think this glamour has made us forget far more than just our magic.”
“Recent events would bear out that observation. By the way, remember when I said my journal had a new trick?”
Zedd’aki arched his brow.
Ja’tar took his journal out and opened it to the page about his sister’s memorial and the vision jumped into the center of the room.”
“Holy shit!” Zedd’aki said, as he filled his hand with wizard’s fire.
Ja’tar belly-laughed and slapped his knee. “The exact same thing happened to me.”
Zedd’aki took the journal from his friend’s hands and turned it over, examining it. “How did you make it do that?”
“I have no idea. As far as I know, nothing has been done to the journal.”
Zedd’aki handed the journal back. “Then how?”
Ja’tar shrugged, “Something in me changed out there. Maybe it’s the old magic that Dra’kor was talking about.”
“Either way—not good!” Zedd’aki grumbled.
“Aye, not good,” Ja’tar agreed.
“So about these skree?”
“Ah, yes! They’re the same as you described. They’d eat everything in sight that was made of flesh and blood, bones and all. Cleaned up the battle field and kept the Dark Ones from resurrecting each other.”
Zedd’aki shuddered, a chill running up his spine, “I remember having nightmares about them gnawing on me before I was dead. I always hoped that if it was my time to go, that I would go quick. You know, crossbow quarrel through the heart, fire ball or something like that ...”
Ja’tar also remembered dreams of the beasts. “Dra’kor said he and Sheila cornered a skree a few days ago. Skree shouldn’t be about.”
“Still, they managed to kill it…” Zedd’aki said, optimistically.
Ja’tar countered, “Sure, but it took two of them to do it, and they caught it by surprise. Dra’kor said that Sheila is a battle elf, and that the beast took her down. She barely survived.”
“We’re talking about Dra’kor here ... how much help could he have lent the poor girl?”
“He’s more competent than the others,” Ja’tar said sourly.
Zedd’aki grunted under his breath.
“Still, we can’t know how many more of them are out there.”
“So…”
“So, who controls them?” Ja’tar asked, not expecting a reply. “That’s the question ...”
“Maybe nobody controls them. Couldn’t they just have been loosed or something?” Zedd’aki asked.
“Possible I suppose. I don’t believe it, but it’s possible.” Ja’tar said contritely. “They come from the second plane. There’s no direct path to the here and now from there.”
“Not that we know of in any case!”
“Agreed, not that we know of. Demons can return to their planes, but cannot rise to a higher plane. It only works in one direction.”
“How do you mean that?”
Ja’tar took a deep breath. “A demon from the second plane can visit the third plane, but has no access to the first plane. They can only go deeper into the underworld. They need to be summoned by a higher plane creature to gain entry.”
Zedd’aki shuddered.
“Now do you believe they’re here by accident?”
“I guess I don’t really believe it either,” Zedd’aki added after some reflection.
Ja’tar drove his fist into his empty hand, “Point is ... Dra’kor and Sheila should have been able to easily kill the beasts with magic. Either they were too weak, or —”
“Or what,” Zedd’aki wondered out loud.
Ja’tar looked up wide-eyed, “— or the magic we wield truly doesn’t work anymore.”
Zedd’aki gasped at Ja’tar’s answer, “How can that be? Magic just doesn’t stop working?”
Ja’tar leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “It’s the only logical conclusion. Maybe it slowly stopped functioning over the years and we just didn’t notice, although most magic obviously still works.”
Zedd’aki sputtered. “W-wh-where are you going with this?”
Ja’tar waved his hand and pointed a finger at Zedd’aki. “Follow my line of reasoning here. After Ror we had no need to use battle spells, right?”
“I’ll give you that.”
“We were too busy putting the realms back in order. How would we know if they still worked or not?”
“Zedd’aki shrugged. “I suppose we wouldn’t know.”
Ja’tar stared out the window. “Maybe the change was abrupt. Or more likely, it’s just the more destructive spells that have been tainted somehow. I’m beginning to suspect all of our battle and defensive spells do not work properly.”
“I can’t believe that we wouldn’t have known somehow if that were the case. It’s easier to believe that Sheila and Dra’kor just weren’t strong enough. That seems more likely, right?”
“Maybe,” Ja’tar said, gritting his teeth. “But, I’m not so sure. I have a sneaking suspicion that the Ten are somehow behind all of this.”
“You don’t believe it, why?”
“Just a hunch,” Ja’tar somberly explained. “I can’t say why ... just a feeling, that’s all.”
“Well, I hope you’re wrong.”
“Here’s what I’m thinking. Dra’kor said they couldn’t kill the catomen. He also said that magic didn’t harm the wolven. Now he s
ays that the skree can’t be harmed either. This leads me to believe that the magic we’re using has been tampered with or limited ... somehow.”
Zedd’aki face was filled with worry while he listened to Ja’tar.
“You and I used to slay demons from the deep planes. We’re talking about level five and six. These are first and second plane creatures. We should be able to vaporize them with a nary a thought.”
Zedd’aki couldn’t argue with Ja’tar’s reasoning. “So, what can we do?”
“Well, until we know the effects of the glamour and how far it reaches, our hands are tied. However, given all the creatures they’ve been seeing, we should probably search the library for a book that lists the most common creatures of the lower planes. It might be handy to know what to expect before we meet them in the realms.”
“You want me to do that this afternoon?” Zedd’aki asked. “Before we go tonight?”
Ja’tar arched his brows. “Before we go where?”
“Where?” Zedd’aki asked confused.
Ja’tar stared blankly. “You said before we go tonight ...”
“Aren’t we going back out into the realms tonight?”
Silence hung in the air.
Ja’tar sat back and crossed his arms. “I suppose we could.”
Zedd’aki leaned forward and dipped his head forcibly. “Good then. We’ll go tonight, together. Should I still check the library for information on first and second level demons?”
“Sure. If you have time,” Ja’tar smiled thinly.
“Fine, I’ll check the library, but if I find nothing?”
“Then we’ll have to check the Cave, together ...”
“Can I see the journal again?”
Ja’tar pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over.
Zedd’aki lowered his eyes and read Dra’kor’s note again.
Ja’tar pondered aloud, “So, it sounds like Five Peaks is also under assault. I expect that all the realms are in the same situation. Dra’kor said that he and Men’ak were heading there soon.”
Zedd’aki looked up from the note, “What do we do?”
“What can we do? For now, we need to break the glamour.”
“How far did you say you had to go to get out from under the influence?”
“I’m guessing about a league and a half, but I don’t know for an absolute certainty. It could be more, could be less.”
The Third Sign Page 9
