by Unknown
“Thank you for finding my knife.” A figure slid just outside of view from Lattimer’s orb, but the alternating speech left little doubt about the identity of the observer. “Don’t do anything as foolish as attacking me with a spell, Lattimer.” A bright blue light flashed briefly near the figure. “My shock stick has a way of disrupting a wizard’s concentration. I can reach you before you cast.”
“How can we help you today, headmaster?” Slate responded formally to prevent the conversation from degrading too quickly.
“Return my knife to me.” Slate obliged and the headmaster whispered in his ear. “The winds are shifting and a storm is coming. Prepare yourself.”
Lattimer couldn’t hold his curiosity. “How did you know I had your knife…and how to find me?”
“Did you think your inquiries within Bellator would escape my attention?” The headmaster didn’t wait for a response. “As for knowing that you’d be here…call it an educated guess. You’ve been frequenting this abandoned lab the last few weeks. What have you been doing down here in the dark? I trust it was something to help our Champion and his investigation…”
Slate faced Lattimer, curiosity piqued. Lattimer seemed at a loss of words, but then they rushed out. “Primean’s experiment intrigued me. I’ve been trying to recreate it…safely…for the past few weeks, but without success. If I succeed, it could save many guardsmen’s lives if the Disenites come back. I didn’t want to tell you until I had some measure of success.”
Lattimer’s inability to recreate the experiment probably related to Slate’s mysterious Perceptor abilities, but he wasn’t willing to give up that information yet. “Has your father told you anything about the attacks on the northern villages?” Slate asked.
“What attacks? The kingdom is at peace.”
“That isn’t quite true, Lattimer.” The headmaster jumped into the conversation. “Small villages are being attacked without any trace of survivors. The attacks are carried out with extreme aggression, but we do not know by whom, or what. I have seen the aftermath of encounters with our new enemy. They are relentless. Can you think of a way to increase someone’s speed or strength? It would be more useful against this enemy than blood staunching. Guardsmen will need speed to keep their distance and strength to stop these enemies in a single blow.”
“The blood staunching experiment used a sponge to link the spell. I’d have to find something else suitable…”
“Give it some thought. We might need a surprise or two when our true enemy surfaces.” The silhouette of the Sicarius headmaster disappeared into the deeper darkness of the lab. Lattimer stood up to investigate, but Slate just shook his head. “It won’t do any good. The headmaster is gone…or at least out of sight. You might as well sit back down.”
“Do you deal with the headmaster often? That was…”
Slate finished his thought for him. “…uncomfortable? Yes, most encounters with the Sicarius headmaster are quite uncomfortable.” Slate unconsciously rubbed his neck.
“What did the headmaster mean by ‘our true enemy’? Was that related to the attacks?”
Slate temporarily ignored the question, giving himself a chance to feel out Lattimer without revealing too much. “Someone powerful is behind the attacks. I think it’s the same person responsible for the attack on Pillar. There are very few people in the kingdom powerful enough to keep something of this magnitude a secret. It would take someone like the Sicarius headmaster or…”
“…my father.” Lattimer finished and nodded in understanding. After a moment of silence, Lattimer asked a question of Slate. “Have you ever wondered why I fought in the tournament?”
Slate hadn’t given it a second thought. “Fame? Honor? …to uphold the Regallo name?”
Lattimer shook his head. “My father has enough fame and honor to make the Regallo name prominent for generations.” Lattimer confessed, “The tournament champion has the right to choose guilds. I have the spark and knew I’d be forced to attend Ispirtu if I didn’t win.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to attend Ispirtu? You obviously enjoy it if you take the time to experiment in this lab.”
“I do enjoy casting spells and experimenting…on my own terms. My father is the most famous wizard in Malethya. He is the headmaster of the Ispirtu and leader of the Ispirtu Guardsmen. He was also more concerned with matters of the crown than with being bothered by small matters…like his family.” Slate stayed quiet, waiting for Lattimer to continue this story. “I know more of my father through stories and history lessons than personal interaction. He tested me for the spark and when he saw my potential, sent me away to study…he was too busy to teach me himself. By the time I came home, my mother slept in a different bedroom and my sister Rose had disappeared from Ispirtu to escape his control. My parents haven’t spoken of her since. I don’t know what happened when I was away, but my father was responsible even if it was responsibility through neglect.”
Slate empathized with Lattimer’s story after losing his own family. Lattimer continued, “I started looking for a way to distance myself from my father and the tournament seemed like my best chance. I started training on my own, but I soon found I needed some live competition to hone my skills. I discovered an underground fighting ring in Ravinai and Magnus was the leader of the ring. I offered the use of the grounds on my estate to train legitimately and he took me up on it. We trained relentlessly and my skills, especially my defensive skills, grew. He beat me most times, so you impressed me by beating him in the tournament.”
“I wouldn’t like to face Magnus directly again.” Slate replied modestly.
“Now I find myself in Ispirtu under my father’s control once again. I can’t offer insight into whether my father is involved with these attacks, but if he is, I would not withhold information to protect him.”
Slate came away convinced. Lattimer had saved his life by bringing him to the infirmary and Slate needed all the help he could get. “You mentioned Cantor and the Blood Mages…we’ve been looking for information from that time period. It’s been a difficult search.”
Lattimer jumped in. “Then I guess you haven’t looked in my father’s personal library. I spent most of my time training for the tournament so I’m not too familiar with it, but if there are manuscripts related to Cantor, I’m sure my father has them. I can start requesting books to search for information, but I’ll have to do it slowly so that my newfound interest in his library doesn’t raise suspicions.”
That wouldn’t do. Slate needed the information soon and wanted to see it for himself. “Your father requested the assistance of his attendant in his office. I don’t want to be late.” Lattimer shook his forearm and stayed in the laboratory to think about the Sicarius headmaster’s suggested experiments.
Slate ascended from the basement laboratories of Ipirtu toward the opulent offices of the towers, careful to avoid any patrolling orbs. The pathway to Brannon’s office required him to navigate the entire Ispirtu complex, including complex twists and turns through a warren of orb-created pitfalls if he misstepped. Slate gingerly put a foot down at each intersection to ensure the ground was solid. After what seemed like an eternity, Slate reached two large wooden doors, created from the trunk of a massive catalpa tree.
The doors swung open upon his approach to reveal the elder Regallo overlooking the Ispirtu grounds. He turned and regarded Slate with sunken eyes and sagging shoulders. The fire he displayed in class was absent and in its place was a shell of the man Slate knew as the Ispirtu headmaster. He must not have slept for days.
“Report the activities of our friend Villifor to me.”
Slate stood in the middle of the room, not feeling comfortable enough in Brannon’s presence to sit while the wizard stood. “Villifor has taken guardsmen with him to investigate attacks on the northern villages. They have been occurring more frequently as of late. Since I have not been assigned to accompany Villifor on any of these missions, my interaction with him has been limited.” Slate tri
ed to lower the expectations of his report.
“Have any of these investigations been corroborated by someone other than Villifor? He makes it to the villages before word of the attack can reach anyone else. It makes me wonder if the Bellator Guardsmen don’t have more to do with the attacks than simply cleaning up the mess. Get invited on one of these missions. This is information I need.”
Slate had no idea how to make that happen. “I don’t know if the attacks have been corroborated by anyone other than Villifor.” Slate couldn’t possibly tell Brannon about the Sicarius headmaster visiting one of the villages. That would simply lead to more questions he couldn’t answer. “However, he has been ordered to investigate the attacks personally by King Darik. They meet regularly and privately when Villifor is in town.” Rainier had proven to be quite successful at shadowing the headmaster.
“Darik has asked me to investigate the attacks as well, but I did not know he met Villifor regularly. You have done well.”
Slate ventured a question after the rare praise from Brannon. “What have you found regarding the attacks on the villages?”
The question raised the fire within Brannon to the surface. “There is no point in investigating an attack on some tiny village in the middle of nowhere. Do you think I should waste my time traversing the countryside chasing pawns? I’ll leave that to Villifor. Me, I’m going to find where the king is hiding and put him in check. Then I just have to make sure we are prepared for what we find.”
Slate knew just enough about chess to understand the analogy. It made sense to look for the Blood Mage behind the attacks. Was Brannon hinting that he knew there was a Blood Mage? Slate played innocent to keep him talking. “What do you think we’ll find?”
Slate thought Brannon was going to throw him out of his office, but after a brief flare of his temper, Brannon’s shoulders sagged and the air of invincibility was removed. “I think a Blood Mage is responsible for these attacks and your parents’ deaths. I am preparing Ispirtu for the battle to come, but I’m afraid our guardsmen won’t be enough, so I’ve pushed the students hard this year…they will be needed.”
“One Blood Mage could challenge all of Ispirtu?”
“The tales of Blood Mages described unlimited power, but those are tales from a different time. All of us get fatigued as our spark wanes, but I don’t know if it is the same for a Blood Mage. We know so little about Blood Magic.” Brannon actually seemed to relax a bit telling Slate everything. “And then there is the other problem…”
“What is that?”
“Over the past few years, the number of wizards that are strong in the spark has reduced dramatically. That is why we now require anyone with the spark to join Ispirtu. There aren’t many wizards left, and the ones who remain aren’t very powerful. The statues you see in the main hallway are a testament to powers long passed.”
“What about the arena during the tournament? That must have taken an enormous amount of power.”
“It did. In fact, it took the combined efforts of Ispirtu and the Wizard Council to move the ground and create the effects of the arena during the Championship bout. After that, we used a trick with the orbs to create the invisible ground. The orbs were placed on two sides of a surface. An orb on one side looked upwards and sent the image to the orb facing downwards, which projected the image. An opposite set of orbs did the same thing for the downwards direction and the end result was an “invisible” ground.”
Slate couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Well what about the orbs? Who created those?”
“They’ve been around far longer than Ispirtu. We don’t know how to create them any longer.” Brannon paused with the admission. “I need to figure out why the magic in Malethya is decreasing before this Blood Mage surfaces or, fractal forbid, the Disenites return. We barely defended against the Disenites during the Twice-Broken Wars. In our current state, I’m not sure we can withstand a Blood Mage or the Disenites.”
Slate processed the information quickly while keeping in mind Brannon had told him the best lies were half-truths. Slate had no way of verifying the magic in Malethya was decreasing and it gave Brannon an excellent excuse for his recent solitude. If it wasn’t true, Brannon could bide his time gaining power while others investigated the isolated attacks of the outlying villages. Slate tried a different tack. “Do you have any information on Blood Mages or the Disenites? I could look into it for you. I may not be a wizard, but I can dig through manuscripts.”
“Thank you, Slate, but very little information still exists on either subject. Cantor destroyed documents that described his discoveries in the hopes they wouldn’t be rediscovered. The Disenites showed up unexpectedly and told us little of their homeland. We have sent ships to investigate, but they don’t return. It is assumed that the Disenites have sunk the ships before they reach their shores.. I’ll think about your offer, but in the meantime, I ask for your silence. If the Blood Mage discovers that Ispirtu is a house of cards, he may resurface before I have time to prepare a defense.”
“For all of our sakes, I hope the kingdom is ready.” Slate said politely and left. He had learned all he needed to know. Lattimer had already told him that Brannon had books on Blood Magic in his personal library. Slate had given Brannon the chance to admit it, but the wizard had played ignorant. Now Slate needed to see the books. If there were books on Blood Magic at the Regallo estate, it would be the first clear lead since the tournament ended. It was time to find Rainier and make a plan.
The tribesman proved adept at following Villifor and was rarely around the apartment. To find Rainier, Slate needed to find Villifor, and while the Bellator headmaster typically stood out in a crowd, he had been traveling a lot lately. Slate hoped he was at Bellator.
Slate ran through the day’s information and let his feet pick his route, winding up on a side street with a crowd of people centered on a small, upscale restaurant called The Royal Boar. Slate started to slide around the periphery of the crowd when he heard rumblings. “Did you hear? Villifor is here!” an excited citizen of Ravinai proclaimed. “A true war hero!” another citizen yelled above the crowd. Slate couldn’t believe his luck, but maybe his innate intuition associated with being a Perceptor was finally coming to fruition.
Slate stood on a crate, hoping to pick out Rainier while he remained inconspicuous, but his pale complexion was immediately noticed by Villifor. The headmaster stood up from his table and addressed his adoring fans. “Ladies and gentlemen, your kind words are too much. And now I must burden you with a humbly requested favor. A friend of mine is here to dine with me, but he has been relegated to a crate on the street.” Heads swiveled as the crowd looked for Villifor’s friend. “He is a student I privately teach, a colleague, and most importantly a friend, but you all know him as the Malethya’s tournament champion, Slate ‘Stonehands’ Severance! Slate, please come join me!”
Slate approached Villifor’s table as urgent whispers regarding the sickly state of the tournament champion circulated through the crowd. Villifor ate alone, but then again, he couldn’t imagine anyone that knew him would want to accompany him either.
Slate embraced the smiling headmaster and mimicked his false exuberance. He then sat across from him and the headmaster spoke quietly with his smile never faltering. “You either have news for me or you are spying on me. For your sake, I hope it is the former.”
Rainier had been spying on Villifor for weeks and hadn’t been caught. Slate managed that feat in a manner of seconds. “Villifor, it was so gracious of you to invite me to lunch. I know your duties to the crown have kept you traveling recently and our personal sessions have understandably been reduced.” Slate thought about Brannon’s suggestion he find a way to accompany the next missions to the northern villages and decided this was the perfect opportunity. He spoke loudly enough to be overheard by the crowd. “In the best interests of Malethya, I would like to offer my talents as the tournament champion to aid you in your selfless travels to preserve our kingdom’s
peace.”
A large murmur went up in the crowd and Villifor’s fake smile almost faltered. He spoke through his teeth loud enough for only Slate to hear. “You aren’t ready yet.”
Again, Slate spoke to Villifor loudly enough for his voice to carry through the crowd. “Your legend was forged on the battlefield, and there is no better way for me to learn than from joining you in action. Will you teach me, headmaster?” The murmur within the crowd grew with anticipation of Villifor’s acceptance of their tournament champion.
“You don’t know what you are asking.” Villifor gritted through a smile. Then he spoke to the crowd. “A true hero must prepare the next generation of heroes. I take this responsibility gladly and welcome you on the battlefield with me, Slate.” The crowd erupted. During the commotion, Villifor addressed Slate privately. “Be at the Bellator complex tomorrow morning. We leave at sunrise. Now get out of here.” The look in his eyes was intense, so Slate hurriedly snuck away.
As he left the restaurant, a young busboy ran up to him. “Excuse me, sir, but you have to pay your tab.” Slate hadn’t even eaten yet, so he looked questioningly at the busboy before recognizing Rainier. Rainier added, “…or should I just put it on the Bellator tab?”
Slate picked up the piece of paper and read “apartment in 30 minutes.” Slate put the paper back down and said, “Villifor said he would pay for his good friend’s meal.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
AN UNSANCTIONED MISSION
Rainier joined Slate at the apartment. “I take it you have some exciting news to discuss?”
“Lattimer told me that Brannon has manuscripts describing Blood Magic in his personal library. Brannon then denied that he had access to information regarding the Blood Mages, so we have some investigating to do.”
“Haven’t we tried this once already?” Rainier replied, referencing their earlier Sicarius mission.
