When I had reached the other side, I picked my lead foot up over the near rail and stepped between the tracks. When my rear foot came up, it caught somehow on a spike which fastened the rail to the timber beneath. I fell forward, and for a terrifying instant I was sure I’d fail to get my hands up in time to stop my face from smashing into the far rail.
I managed to get one hand up in time to save my face from the inevitable impact on the railroad ties, but the fall still knocked me silly for a few moments. I heard a sound which brought me out of my stupor and I looked blankly toward the source.
It was a screaming sound, which seemed to slowly adjust in pitch until I recognized it for what it really was: a train whistle!
Just a few hundred yards away and barreling toward me at an unstoppable speed was a huge, green, diesel-powered freight train exactly like the hundreds of others I had seen throughout my childhood. I reached down to extricate my trapped shoe, but panic set in and all I managed to do was tighten the caught shoelace.
I looked back up at the oncoming train, which was less than fifty yards away. For a brief moment I considered sacrificing my leg, and just laying down flat on the railroad ties, hoping that my small body wouldn’t catch on the underside of the train as it went by.
“Aaron, stand up!” came my brother’s voice, and I turned around to see him running down the track from the opposite direction of the train, and he was just a few yards away!
I didn’t have time to think about it, so I did as my brother instructed and stood up as tall as I could with my foot trapped—which wasn’t really all that much higher more than I would have been by kneeling. It was in that moment that I realized I could have probably jumped into the ditch between the tracks and the train wouldn’t have even touched me, but I had been addled from my fall and unable to think clearly.
Adam juked to his left at the last step and drove off the far rail, hurtling himself across the tracks into me with everything he had. He smashed into me, knocking the wind from my chest and driving our combined bodies into the ditch between the parallel sets of tracks as he grabbed me in a flying bear hug. I felt my ankle pop as we flew a few yards away from where I had been stuck, but frankly I didn’t care about my foot as the massive, green train hurtled past where I would have certainly died if not for my brother.
I didn’t even care that my head had struck a football-sized rock when we landed with my brother’s body on top of mine. He was clutching his knee after coming down awkwardly, but in that moment all I cared about was that my brother had saved me from certain death, and I would never be able to repay him.
Those were my last thoughts as I lost consciousness to the sound of my brother desperately calling my name as the rumbling, screeching, train wheels went past one by one.
I sat bolt upright, my heart beating quickly but the pain in my chest had thankfully gone. My body was covered in cold sweat, which was altogether familiar following yet another trip down memory lane that I would have preferred have never taken place.
We would never again talk about that day, and we certainly didn’t tell our parents about it. We made up some story about me slipping on a rock on the way to the pond which broke my ankle and knocked me unconscious, and how Adam had hurt his knee trying to help me up.
We never went back to that pond, either. And I never wanted to have that particular nightmare again.
I suddenly realized that Antolin’s robe was warm, and quite comfortable. I knew it was a risk to keep the robe on, but I decided against my previous judgment. I was pretty sure that it made my physical ineptitude somewhat less crippling, and I still needed it to decipher the scroll.
Desperate to put my most haunting nightmare in the rearview mirror, I reached into my pack and pulled out the scroll tube. I carefully removed the cap and pulled out the sheaf of papers, laying them down on my old robe to keep them dry.
I flipped to the last one and holding the staff in one hand I concentrated hard in an effort to undo the encryption spell.
There was resistance at first—which I’m sure would have been easy to overcome if I were a hundred percent—but in my present condition it required a little more effort. A few minutes and a line of sweat on my forehead later, the encryption deactivated and the wildly dancing colors and patterns morphed into a map of some kind.
There were some familiar landmarks, like the mountain which was unimaginatively named ‘Dome Mountain,’ as well as a series of rivers I recognized in the east which gave me a sense of scope.
I even found what had to be Coldetz’s position on the map almost exactly in the center, with an unmistakable emblem of three circular walls surrounding a tower. Amazingly, when I focused on a different portion of the map the image scrolled across the page like it was being displayed on a computer screen and I had moused over to a different spot.
After I got the hang of navigating it using my eyes, I found that most of the map was remarkably detailed. But the names used to identify places with which I was familiar were not themselves familiar.
The Imperial City of Veldyrian—which should have been shown far south of Coldetz—was nowhere to be seen on this map and there was nothing to even suggest that it had been present when this map was created, which made sense if the map had been created five centuries earlier.
Then I saw a slightly shimmering icon on the eastern edge of the map and I focused on it. It looked like if we had healthy horses it would take a week to get there from Coldetz. The shimmering icon was that of a gothic-looking mansion.
There was a rune inscribed below the mansion which I recognized as also being on Sbeegl’s staff. When I was satisfied that I had familiarized myself with the landmarks, I tried to reactivate the encryption. For a panic-stricken couple of minutes, it looked like I wouldn’t be able to do so but I managed to pull it off.
Whatever Antolin was hiding at that mansion, I intended to be the only one to find out about it, and that meant keeping prying eyes away from the map, especially Pi’Vari’s.
I rolled the scrolls up and slid them back into the tube as I considered what Antolin’s message meant. I had suspected that Pi’Vari harbored duplicitous allegiances, but I didn’t have the first clue who he might be working with, or why. As far as I knew, I had given him everything he wanted by agreeing to teach him magic on the down low. But apparently I had misjudged him—or someone else had bettered my offer.
He would bear watching, but the truth was that I didn’t have any chance to succeed at this ridiculous quest if I didn’t utilize his knowledge. For all of my inexplicable talent as a wizard, owing in no small part to the real Jezran’s years of study and training, I possessed absolutely none of the actual knowledge that went with it. Things just seemed to come naturally to me when it came to magic, but I understood from everything that I read or heard from other wizards that the entire process is a very deliberate, cognitive one, not instinctive like what I experienced.
So while I would just as soon kick him to the curb, I needed Pi’Vari as badly as I needed anyone right now, so I would have to settle for keeping a watchful eye on him and hope that I could see trouble before it landed at my doorstep.
“You are wearing Master Antolin’s robes,” I heard Pi’Vari’s voice from behind me, just far enough away that I was pretty sure he couldn’t have seen anything on the map.
I nodded as I quietly replaced the cap on the scroll tube. “I’m trying to see if it will help me replenish my power,” I said half-truthfully.
“And what have you found?” he asked interestedly.
I shrugged as I placed the tube back into my pack before wrapping the whole package in my old robes. “It’s too early to tell, I think,” I replied casually, “I’ll know better after I’ve slept in them.” I stood slowly, pleasantly surprised to find my legs steadier than I had expected. “Did you find anything we can use?” I asked, hoping to shift the subject toward his own activities.
Dancer was bringing up a half dozen freshly cut trees two to three inches in d
iameter that were between six and ten feet long. “We believe this will do,” Pi’Vari replied airily.
“Maybe,” Dancer growled, “Pi’Vari talk much, work little.”
“Good job, Dancer,” I thanked the little man, which merely elicited another scowl from his face in Pi’Vari’s direction. I tried to alleviate the tension by walking over to inspect the trees, using the staff for support as I did so. “I’ll tie it up, since I’ve had a little experience building these,” I offered. “You guys can get some rest.”
After an hour, I had assembled the wood into a simple skid and we tested it with Aemir’s weight. It looked like it would do the job, and if it broke then we would have better luck finding replacement pieces the further south we went.
We settled in for a long night’s sleep up against a large boulder before setting out the next morning for the long trudge back to Coldetz.
Chapter XVI: Return to Coldetz and Hard Goodbyes
It took us nearly three weeks to return to Coldetz, which was far better time than I had thought we would make.
Aemir had regained consciousness a few days into the trip, but he still hadn’t said more than two words, likely owing to his lack of strength more than anything. Still, I knew I had some explaining to do when we were back to civilization.
The robes actually did seem to help my energy reserves replenish themselves, which brought an avalanche of questions with the boon. Beyond that, I wasn’t able to ascertain any more information from them.
I had decided against diving into researching the staff, since I didn’t want to experience a catastrophic failure while out on the trail. I had discovered, however, that it would store a portion of energy roughly equal to a quarter of my own total, so after a few days of practice I got to where I could channel energy into and out of it quickly enough to be of use in the middle of a fight.
Beyond that, I had put everything on hold at least until we returned to Coldetz. Which we did one afternoon and I felt my throat tighten as we moved painfully slowly into visual range of the castle itself.
Thankfully, the banners were still flying and after a few hours, we found ourselves at the city gates, which opened for us immediately.
A crowd assembled as we re-entered the castle, and they were whispering and chattering wildly while trying to keep their voices down. The din was unmistakable, however, but all any of us wanted was a warm bath and a soft bed.
The High Sheriff appeared quickly, surrounded by her usual retinue—including Baeld, who moved unbidden to our position and carefully untied Aemir from the skid before gently picking him up and turning to enter the nearby gatehouse.
I nodded my thanks before breaking eye contact with the obsidian-skinned giant, which he returned before disappearing inside the structure.
“Once again,” I heard the High Sheriff’s stiff, but smooth voice from my left, “you have our thanks, Wizard.” She snapped her gauntleted hand to her chest and struck a salutatory pose before bowing deeply, falling to one knee.
The entire assembled crowd followed her lead until we were surrounded by well over a thousand kneeling people. After a few seconds, during which time I was more than a little embarrassed, the Sheriff stood and turned to the crowd, clearly about to make some sort of address.
“Please,” I interrupted her awkwardly, grabbing her elbow gently which made her guards more than a little nervous, but they kept their positions. “We need to talk,” I said quietly.
She turned smoothly to me, and only now could I clearly see the disdain in her eyes. “You require a hero’s welcome,” she whispered. “It does not matter what you found, what you did, or what is yet in store. These people need to believe that you have saved them, even if that belief only lasts for a day.” Her eyes were hard, and I could see that the previous month had been difficult for her as well.
I reluctantly gave her a tight nod, and she continued.
“People of Coldetz,” she began with a raised voice that came from a lifetime of practicing public speech, “rise and greet your heroes!”
With that, the crowd erupted into a chorus of cheers and women appeared at every window, throwing flower petals and other forms of confetti into the air.
I have to say, it was nice to get a little recognition for our hard work, but it was all I could do to keep a scowl off my face and accept the heartfelt words of kindness the people showered on us.
We stayed in the courtyard for an hour, until a half dozen cattle and at least two dozen full-grown hogs had been slaughtered and the evening feast in our honor began. After the ceremonial breaking of bread, I broke away from the party with the High Sheriff to discuss our next moves.
“What did you find?” she asked impatiently.
I sat down wearily in our former quarters at the gatehouse. The Sheriff had wanted to hold our briefing in her formal office, but I really didn’t think I’d survive the trip up the stairs, so we had opted for the spacious guest quarters we had previously occupied.
“Truthfully,” I began wearily, rubbing my eyes to clear the blurriness, “more questions than answers.”
She sat forward in her chair across the table from me. “But you killed that thing, whatever it was,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“It’s not as simple as that,” I replied, and at her obvious impatience I clasped my hands and leaned forward against the table. “The person who controlled the invading army is dead,” I said, which seemed to relieve her immediately. “But,” I said, holding up my hands in a cautionary gesture, “she wasn’t alone.”
Her shoulders slumped visibly and she gripped the table tightly as she visibly fought through a bout of vertigo, or something similar. I had expected such a reaction, and I couldn’t blame her.
“How many?” she asked weakly before clenching her jaw and looking up with a renewed sense of determination in her expression. “How many more are there?”
I shook my head. “I truly have no idea, but we know of one man—an apprentice of sorts, and probably also her lover,” I explained. “We’ve already battled him once.”
“You mean to say he yet lives?” she blurted incredulously. “You managed to kill the master, but not the apprentice?”
“Put simply,” I replied, having never really thought of it in those exact terms, “yes. He caught us unaware, and it took literally everything we had to come through alive,” I said darkly before adding, “my Champion, Aemir, may never recover from the injuries he…sustained in the battle.”
She was clearly at a loss for words, as this was obviously not the news she had wanted to hear. In truth, there wasn’t any news that she would have liked except to find that the attacks had ceased, and I had disappeared along with them. Anything else just drove her and her people further away from who they were, and who they should be.
“The good news,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, “is that we diverted his attention. He couldn’t attack Coldetz while we were gone because we drained him of all his energy during out impromptu battle royale.”
She nodded absently. “How long until they are able to attack again?” she asked bleakly.
“We don’t know,” I admitted. “But we have a destination.”
Pi’Vari’s shocked expression was genuine enough, which told me that he thankfully hadn’t actually seen anything before I was able to relock the map. “We do?” he blurted.
I smirked and nodded. “That’s why I’m in charge, Pi’Vari,” I chided him, “because I’m the man with the plan.”
“And just when did you plan on telling us this?” he asked incredulously.
I blinked twice for dramatic effect. “Right now?” I said in mock confusion before schooling my features and turning back to the Sheriff. “Which brings me to our next orders of business,” I said pointedly.
She slowly squared her shoulders. “What are those, exactly?” she asked stiffly.
“First,” I said, squinting and rubbing my eyes yet again to get rid of the blur, “we need to get two cups of Gods Bl
ood.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Two cups?” she hissed. “Would you like that refined or raw, Master Wizard?!” she spat, standing abruptly from the table.
“Raw is fine, actually,” I replied graciously, not having considered that particular issue during my negotiations with Co’Zar’I’Us. “And I will remind the lady that I am not a Master Wizard. Besides,” I continued, as I could almost hear the steam pouring out of her ears, “it’s a fair price for a month of reprieve, don’t you think?”
That actually seemed to hit home and she re-composed herself. “Yes,” she replied with resignation, “it is a fair price, at that.”
“Excellent,” I nodded, “which brings us to the second, more sensitive point.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “More sensitive than enough Gods Blood to feed my people for a year?”
I nodded, bracing myself for her inevitable outburst. “My Champion is dying, and his recovery is beyond my powers to facilitate,” I said slowly. “I need a new Champion if I’m to complete my mission, and I don’t have the time or resources to return to the Imperial City to secure another’s services.”
Her eyes narrowed as she clearly sensed this was going somewhere she wouldn’t like, and frankly I couldn’t blame her. “Who did you have in mind?” she asked guardedly.
I swallowed the knot in my throat before answering. “I need Baeld,” I replied casually.
Surprisingly, she didn’t erupt volcanically at my confirmation of her fears. “We agreed to relinquish his services to you after you dealt with the threat,” she reminded me.
“I remember,” I agreed, “but that was before I understood just how big this conflict is—and how steep the price would be to reach its conclusion. It’s not that I’m going back on my word; I’m just saying that I don’t think the three of us could succeed without him. It’s your choice, of course,” I said pointedly.
She glared at me for a few moments before shrugging her shoulders. “You will have to convince him, then,” she said simply, which was a more than slightly confusing response.
Revelation (Seeds of Humanity: The Cobalt Heresy) Page 18
