Harmonic Magic Series Boxed Set

by P. E. Padilla

  They all agreed to that as well.

  Palusa Filk frowned. “I wish we could do something to show respect for our fellow Zouyim, bury their bodies or burn them in a pyre. It does not seem right to leave them to the scavengers.”

  Rindu looked at her compassionately. “That is an honorable thought, Palusa Filk, but not necessary. The rohw that made our brothers and sisters who they were has fled their vessels. There is no shame in allowing the ground to take their bodies back.”

  She grew quiet. All six sat then, wrestling with their own thoughts, and watched as the sun dipped below the mountain, plunging them into the darkness that was held back only by the small fire in front of them. It looked as feeble as Rindu knew they all felt, fighting against the darkness of their despair.

  They stayed up until late in the night, quietly discussing their brothers and sisters and the heroic deeds they had done. When it was time for sleep, it was a long time coming. Rindu settled into uneasy slumber, thoughts of what the world would be like without the Zouyim troubling him.

  In the morning, the remaining six monks traveled down the mountain together to Tramgadal, the “gateway to Kokitura.” From there, they split up, promising again to meet in four months, as if saying it again would help to make it happen.

  As Rindu watched the others leave, he wondered if he would see any of them again. With a heavy heart, he set his feet toward the north and started walking to Marybador.

  Chapter 15

  Ten days later, Rindu climbed the lip of the cliffs surrounding Marybador. Looking down at Zyrqyt Lake and the island fortress of the Sapsyra, he felt some of his tension ease. Throughout his journey from the destroyed temple to the headquarters of the Sapsyra, he had wondered if the Gray Man had also attacked the sisters’ compound. He saw nothing amiss in the swirling purple fog that lay sparsely across the lake.

  He made his way down the path on tired feet. He had traveled as quickly as he dared, still wary of the Gray Man’s hunter groups. Even a Zouyim monk could only travel so many miles day after day. But that was in the past. He was here now, at his destination. He would discuss the temple’s destruction with the Rusha and they would devise a plan. And he would see Ylleria and his precious Nalia.

  He could picture his beautiful wife’s face, lighting up when he came in the door to their small house. Nalia, somehow expressive even with a mask covering her head, would be there too, ready to hug her father in greeting. His mouth turned up into a small smile and he quickened his pace.

  Rindu made it to the landing at the edge of the lake and stepped into one of the small boats tied there. That was strange. There was usually at least a Sapsyr or two here on this side of the water. He could not remember ever crossing when there were not. Looking across the narrow stretch of water to the island, he noticed now that the large gates in the compound’s walls were closed tight. That was not a good sign. He wondered what was going on.

  He rowed as quickly he was able. The Zouy made it to the island, tied up the boat, and headed toward the compound, alarm growing in his chest like a beast awaking from a long slumber.

  “Ho, Rindu Zose,” a voice cried out as he approached the walls. “Give me a moment.” It was a voice he recognized, that of Regi Sparks.

  The smaller entry door to the side of the main gate swung open and the Sapsyr motioned him to enter. As he passed through, he looked at her carefully. Reginia Sparks was the dream of every young man. Her firm, perfectly proportioned body moved with an elegance only attained with years of physical training. Her muscles rippled under her soft, perfect skin. She shook her long blond hair, which he had never seen looking anything but perfectly in place. She peered at him with those alluring blue eyes set in a face with perfect features. He looked for weariness there, for some sign of stress or hardship, but he didn’t see any. What he found instead was…boredom?

  “Nalia was right. She’s always right, of course, but I’m really glad she was right this time,” she exclaimed as she reached around him and hugged him tight. “She said that even the Gray Man couldn’t kill you. She was right.”

  Rindu gave the girl a light hug in return, feeling awkward. After a time that was long enough to be polite, he gently pushed her away so he could look at her as he spoke. “I am glad to see you, Reginia. Something terrible has happened. I must see my wife and the Rusha immediately.”

  The girl closed the door, locked it, then looked back at him. “Well, I can take you to Rusha Kloos, but not to Ylleria. Here,” she took his hand and pulled him toward the Rusha’s office, “I’ll let her explain.”

  Rindu did not like the sound of that, but he held his tongue. He would be patient and speak when they were in the office of the leader of the Sapsyra. As they worked their way across the compound, he saw other people only in the family area, where the husbands and children of the sisters lived. He didn’t see any other of the women warriors on the grounds.

  They soon arrived at the Rusha’s office. Reginia knocked loudly twice and was getting ready to knock a third time when the door swung open. Dreya Kloos was in her late fifties, hair shot through with gray, but she had always looked vital and much younger than her age. Rindu looked her over and was surprised at how much older she now looked.

  Her eyes were sunken and she seemed to have lost some weight. Her normally alert, bright eyes were dull with fatigue and from obvious lack of sleep. If Reginia’s boredom had settled Rindu’s anxieties, Rusha Kloos’s appearance made it jump up and down in his mind.

  “Rindu, thank the rohw,” she said to him, taking his arm and pulling him into her office. She looked toward the young woman who had brought him. “Thank you, Regi. Go back on gate duty. I will speak with Brother Rindu.”

  “Uh, ok.” She looked confused. “Master Rindu, I would like to speak with you later, after you’ve had time to rest and eat.”

  “Yes, Reginia, I would like that. Thank you.” He smiled at her as the Rusha closed the door and then turned to him.

  “Please, take a seat. I think we both have news to share,” she said.

  He did so. “Rusha, where is my wife. Where are all the sisters?”

  Dreya Kloos sighed. “You no doubt know about the attack on the Zouyim temple, since you were on your way there when it happened. I am glad to see that you were not present when its destruction came.”

  “You know of the attack,” he said. It was not a question.

  “Yes, Ardu Sett sent a bird. It was smeared with blood, so he probably sent it during the actual attack. We sent a sister on her rakkeban to confirm that the message was true. She went quickly, as only a rakkeban can, and returned, all within six days. When she stated that she had not seen you on the roads, we feared the worst.”

  “I detoured to visit my family in Ikalau for a day,” Rindu said sadly. “Perhaps that is why we did not see each other.”

  She nodded. “As soon as we got confirmation of the temple’s destruction, we sent the bulk of our forces to the Gray Fortress, to attack the Gray Man while his forces are weakened.”

  Rindu’s heart stopped beating for a moment. “You did what?” he asked, his words soft but dangerous.

  Rusha Kloos eyed him warily. “One hundred Sapsyra marched on the Gray Man’s fortress to dispense justice for what he did.”

  Rindu stood. “I must set out at once. I will catch them and bring them back. You have not seen the battle site, have not felt the rohw signatures of the power that was used there. The Gray Man is too powerful. Your sisters will be defeated.”

  “Rindu, please,” she said, touching his arm, imploring him to sit again. “They left fourteen days ago. You could not catch them even if you had a rakkeban. It is too late. We must trust in the skill of our sisters to succeed.”

  The Zouy slumped back in his seat, defeated. “It is so. It is out of our hands now.” He looked up then, suddenly tired. “I assume that my wife was leading them, as Mrymit of the Sapsyra.” He waited for her nod. “What of my daughter, of Nalia?”

  “She als
o went. I am sorry, Rindu.”

  The two finished their conversation soon after that, agreeing to meet the next day, after the Zouy had a chance to rest. It was with a heart sick with worry that he walked to his house. It was sitting empty, forlorn, dark. As he stepped inside, he could smell Ylleria’s scent, could sense her presence and feel her energy there.

  “Oh, suhir, my shining light in the darkness,” he whispered, “come back safe to me. Victorious or by fleeing, come back to me.” He lay on the bed they shared, trying to keep from screaming in frustration.

  Chapter 16

  The next morning, Regi Sparks knocked on the familiar door of the Zose family. She had visited in the evening the day before and knocked several times, but there was no answer. The house had been dark and she assumed Rindu had fallen asleep, so she left.

  She heard Rindu’s voice from within the house. “Come in, Regi. I am in my study.”

  She entered and headed back toward the small room Rindu called his study. It was also the room Ylleria called her sitting room. She had heard “discussions” between them about the true nature and name of the room as she was growing up, spending a great deal of time in this house.

  “Good morning Master Rindu,” she said, trying hard to make it sound joyful. “Did you rest well? I stopped by yesterday evening but I think you had fallen asleep.”

  “I rested, but not well, thank you,” he said to her.

  He was sitting in front of a small table with a large scroll made of paper on it. He sat with perfect posture, holding a long brush in one hand. The brush was perfectly vertical, its narrow bristles black at the tip with the ink from the well just to the side. As she watched, he made slow, careful, graceful movements, drawing lines on the paper.

  She stood silently, watching him with the brush. His movements were mesmerizing. They were elegant and powerful at the same time. As one of the Sapsyra, she could appreciate the perfect fine motor control he was displaying with every stroke of the brush. Even his left hand, holding the sleeve of his robe so as not to allow it to smear the ink, seemed to be doing precisely what was intended.

  “What kind of drawing is that?” she asked. “I’ve never seen those shapes before.”

  He finished the thing he was drawing and lifted the brush. He pulled his arms in, placed the brush on the table, its tip leaning on a small, flat tray, and then looked up at her.

  “They are not drawings. It is writing. The language is called Syray, an ancient language no longer spoken. The writing of the characters in such a way is called calligraphy. It is meant as a form of moving meditation, much like the kori rohw exercises.”

  Regi furrowed her brow. “Writing? It doesn’t look like any writing I’ve ever seen. What’s it say?”

  “This particular character means peace,” he said as he pointed to one of the groups of lines he had drawn, “and this one means patience. They are two things I am sorely in need of at this time, waiting for news of my family.”

  “I know what you mean,” she said. “It’s killing me that I’m stuck here not knowing what’s going on. It’s horrible.”

  “I quite agree,” he said, trying to smile, but managing only an awkward twitch of his mouth. “So, Reginia, why were you left here in the compound? Is your skill at combat needed to guard the headquarters? I have seen you fight and you are outstanding.”

  Regi felt her face grow warm. This man was the closest thing she had ever had to a father. His compliment was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.

  “No,” she said sulkily. “Apparently, I’m not good at following commands. I was seen as a liability, so they left me here.”

  “I see, I see.” Rindu cleaned his brush in the cup of water next to the inkwell, dabbed it dry with a soft cloth, and placed it, bristles up, in another cup. He capped the inkwell and looked at her.

  “I know, you must be feeling left out, like you have disappointed those who matter to you. Is that not correct?”

  She felt her ears grow warm. “Yeah, kind of.”

  “Please let us sit in the dining room. I will make us some tea and tell you a story one of my masters told me when I was young.”

  Regi rolled her eyes. She remembered well many of Rindu’s stories. He told them as she was growing up and he never seemed to run out of them. She suspected that he may have made some of them up on the spot. His heart was in the right place, though, and trying to help her would take his mind off his wife and daughter. She followed him to their small dining table and sat down.

  He busied himself with making the tea and soon sat down in front of her, handing her a cup and pouring some of the steaming liquid into it. He poured one for himself as well, looked at her, and began.

  “There was once a squadron of the finest soldiers in the Great King’s army. They were led by the heroic Captain Rakkeban, veteran of countless battles and the fiercest warrior in the world. He took pride in his squadron, in their combat skills, their efficiency, their precision as a unit. All of his soldiers but one.

  “Monkey was not what could be called the ideal soldier. She was skilled, there was no doubt. She had bested in combat, at one time or another, every other soldier in the squadron. All but the captain himself, of course. Snake, Pantor, Bear, Ahu Bird, all of them. She was as skilled a fighter as there was.

  “However, she had a problem. She was not easily able to fit in as the others did. She tried. She trained hard, did her best, always began every task, every mission with the best intentions, but for some reason, she was never able to act without thought, without questioning why she was being commanded to do something.

  “It caused her great consternation because the captain yelled and screamed and jumped up and down, calling poor Monkey names that were not very nice.

  “‘You must act this way,’ Captain said. ‘You must walk this way.’ ‘You must march in line.’ ‘You must hold your weapon and use it exactly this way, like everyone else.’ It was all very stressful and Monkey thought that maybe she was not good enough to be in the elite squadron.

  “One day, while the squadron was deep in the territory of the enemy, Captain Rakkeban told them to get into formation and sweep a heavily forested area for enemy soldiers. Monkey was determined not to let her fellow soldiers down and stood there, lined up with the others, ready to begin.

  “‘March!’ Captain said, and the squadron moved forward, all in perfect rows, all in perfect step.

  “Except Monkey. Within three steps, she was out of synch. By the fifth step, she had stopped completely, embarrassed and frustrated. Instead of standing there and waiting for Captain to scold her, she climbed the nearest tree, something she was very good at doing.

  “As her fellow soldiers made their way through the forest, Monkey scampered through the trees above, watching them and their precision, perfectly in line and perfectly in step. It saddened her, but it was clear that she would have to leave the group. She would never fit in. Deflated, she sat on a high branch and cried.

  “Suddenly, a sound caught her attention. She looked down and saw that there were enemy troops no more than fifty feet in front of her friends. They were setting an ambush. Her squadron would be killed!

  “Rushing through the trees, jumping from branch to branch and swinging from tree to tree, she called out to Captain. ‘Captain Rakkeban. Captain Rakkeban. Trap! There is a trap ahead!’

  “Her fellow soldiers could not hear her clearly, could not understand what she was trying to say. There was no chance but one. If her squadron were to live, she would have to sacrifice herself. Running as fast as she could, she grabbed hold of a slender branch and launched herself from it, landing directly in the middle of the trap the other soldiers had set.

  “There, twenty feet in front of her squadron and Captain, she triggered the trap and watched helplessly as a large weighted net fell on her. Then she felt the sharp pain of an arrow pierce her arm and she knew no more.”

  Rindu took a sip of his tea and looked into Regi’s eyes. There was
a question there. Regi looked back, waiting.

  Rindu nodded and continued. “When Monkey woke up, she was in the medic’s tent. She hurt all over, but she was alive. Looking at herself, she saw that she had bandages on both arms, one leg, and one large bandage wrapped around her chest. She could feel that her head was wrapped tightly as well.

  “Captain Rakkeben came into the tent, large and imposing. ‘You did not follow orders, soldier Monkey,’ he said gruffly. ‘You did not march in line with the rest of your squadron.’

  “Monkey swallowed hard, knowing what was coming next.

  “‘Instead, you ran through the trees and screeched and made noises,’ Captain continued. ‘Then you jumped into the middle of a battlefield and triggered an enemy trap.’

  “Captain Rakkeban looked into Monkey’s eyes. ‘Do you realize what you have done, soldier?’ he asked her. ‘Do you understand the consequences of your failure to act as commanded?’

  “Monkey squeaked out her response, ‘No, sir.’

  “Captain Rakkeban drew his muzzle into a wide smile, the first one Monkey had ever seen him wear. ‘You saved the entire squadron, myself included. If we had walked into that trap, we would all be dead now. Instead, we are heroes. It is all because of you, Sergeant Monkey.’

  “Monkey looked at Captain in confusion. ‘You are not angry with me? I will not be kicked out of the squadron?’ she asked.

  “‘Of course not. You saved us all. From now on, you are my second-in-command and have a new job. You will be our scout. With your skills and agility in moving silently, you will keep us out of trouble.’

  “And so, Sergeant Monkey was able to stay in the elite squadron and she was accepted for the excellent soldier she was, even though she still could not march in step with the rest of the squadron.”

  Rindu took another sip of his tea, looking at her. Waiting.