Harmonic Magic Series Boxed Set

by P. E. Padilla

  Rindu looked at the hunter. His green eyes—puffy and lined with red—were glowing in the afternoon sun. He saw pain there, but more as well. He saw a deadly promise, a commitment to repayment. He saw revenge.

  “Come, sit with us, Emerius Dinn,” Rindu said, “and we will discuss it.”

  They sat and talked through his plan until darkness had overcome the forest, Oro at Emerius’s feet, whimpering.

  Rindu watched as Emerius constructed the device he was working on. He had unpacked several items from his backpack, along with powders wrapped into cloth bundles and a few small vials of liquid. Sam was next to him, asking questions.

  “Will that do the trick, do you think?” Sam asked him. “Is there enough there? How did you learn how to do this? Did your father teach you? How did he learn?”

  Emerius leveled a cold glare at Sam.

  “Oh, sorry,” Sam said and sat back. “I’ll just watch quietly.”

  Emerius mixed some of the powders into a cup. He stirred them with his finger, then inserted some long, thin strips of metal into the powder, burying them at the bottom of the cup. Taking one of the vials, he poured it over the powders. Finally, he placed the lid on the cup, the strips of metal protruding out of the top.

  “Does everyone know what you are to do?” Emerius said.

  They all answered that they did. Even Skitter nodded his head.

  “Okay, then let’s get this done and over with.”

  Emerius handed the cup to Skitter. The hapaki took it gently in both of his paws, no doubt wary because of Sam’s explanation of what it was for. Walking on his hind legs in his awkward, rolling gait, Skitter went toward the wall.

  Rindu looked at the others. Nalia had her shrapezi out and ready. Sam had Ahimiro out, in staff form. He held Sunedal loosely in his own hands. Emerius had the arrows he had retrieved from the bodies earlier, before they were buried. His quiver was full and Inoria’s was lying at his feet, nearly full. Oro and the rakkeben were alert and standing nearby.

  Skitter made it to the wall without being seen. He put his bundle down precisely where Sam had instructed him and lifted the small seed pod Emerius had given him, full of others of his powders and a thin-walled vial of some liquid. Skitter tapped the pod firmly against the wall, breaking the vial. The pod emitted a weak glow as the liquid saturated the powders. He then put it in between the thin strips of metal coming out of the top of the cup, one side of the seed pod touching one strip while the opposite side touched the other. There was a small flash, indicating that the device was working correctly.

  Skitter ran for all he was worth, all four legs pumping as he tried to get as far away from the device as possible. One of the men standing on the wall saw the hapaki and pointed, but had no time to do anything else. Five seconds after Skitter had activated the device, there was a flash, followed by a loud boom, and a chunk of the wall simply was no longer there. The man had been shaken off the wall, falling thirty feet to the ground. Emerius put an arrow in him just to make sure he was dead.

  The big hunter was the first to run at the hole in the wall, watching the battlements above him for any sign of sentries. He saw one and put an arrow into him as well.

  Less than fifteen minutes later, the entire party was in the main hall at Gutu. As it turned out, there were less than thirty soldiers still at the fortress; all the others were with Ayim Rasaad or Baron Tingai. The mutants and the walls had been thought to be sufficient protection from attackers.

  “I will ask you nicely just one time,” Emerius said to the fortress steward, brandishing one of his long knives. The ceramic glass blade glinted wickedly in the torch light. “Where is your master?”

  “Please, sir,” the man begged. “I’m just a servant, not a soldier. Ayim Rasaad has gone to the north. I don’t know where. The Baron has gone north, too, but he left in a different direction, more northeast. I don’t believe they are going to the same place. They both left more than two weeks ago.”

  “What do you know of the monsters Tingai has made?” Emerius asked

  “Nothing, sir,” the steward said. “I only know they were here and that there were three minders for them. They let the creatures out yesterday for some reason, but they haven’t come back.”

  “Nor will they.” Emerius looked at him coldly. “Get your possessions and leave this place. Find a new master to work for.”

  “Yes sir,” the steward said, bowing, “thank you, sir.” He left the room at a run.

  “Do you think he was telling the truth?” Emerius asked no one in particular.

  “Yes,” Sam answered. “He’s just a servant, as he said. You can’t fake that kind of fear.”

  “We are still left with a problem,” Nalia said. “We can follow Rasaad, but will be no better off than we have been previously. Unless we can catch up to her, or get ahead of her, we will not succeed.”

  “It is true,” Rindu said, “but perhaps Dr. Walt or Lahim Chode can tell us where the next artifact is. If Sam knows a location closer to it than where Rasaad is currently, we might be able to arrive before her.”

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Sam said. “Maybe we can get lucky for a change. Let’s head back to Whitehall and see what we can find.”

  “I won’t be going with you,” Emerius said softly.

  “What?” Sam turned to the hunter. “Why not?”

  “It’s Tingai I have to catch, not Rasaad,” Emerius said. “I have nothing left but to avenge my family and to keep that maniac from ever doing the same thing to other villages. I have to go after him.”

  “But—” Sam started.

  “We understand,” Rindu interrupted. “Vengeance is not the way, but it is understandable why you would choose to pursue Tingai. Be safe, Emerius Dinn. Perhaps we will see each other yet again.”

  Emerius nodded. He turned to Sam. “Sam, I know you don’t agree with my decision, but I need to do this. Here.” The big man handed Inoria’s bow to him. “She was fond of you, saw you as a student. She would have wanted you to have it. Do great things with it, okay?”

  Sam reverently took the bow and quiver offered to him. “I…I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Emerius. I’ll try to be worthy of them.”

  “I know you will. Come on Oro,” he said to the bear, sitting quietly nearby. “Let’s see if we can catch that bastard. I’m sure he’s not traveling nearly as fast as we can. Oh, and Sam, not all of those mutants we killed were from Blackwood. There were many in that last batch I didn’t recognize. Tingai must have raided other villages or got people in some other way. Don’t be surprised if you run into more of the monsters.”

  Emerius waved to the others and trotted out of the hall.

  Sam stood there looking at the weapons he had just been given. He tightened his grip on the bow and looked to the others. “Okay, let’s get back to Whitehall. We need to get to the second artifact before Rasaad does, and we need to do it fast so we can help Emerius with Tingai.”

  Chapter 46

  When they arrived back at Whitehall, Nalia made sure that Cleave was brushed down and given water, then she spoke quietly to the rakkeban as she checked him over for injuries. Finding none, she told him he could go hunt and went with Sam and Rindu to see Dr. Walt. Skitter went off to the den he had made in the park. Sam said the hapaki wanted a little time alone. He also mentioned some thoughts that had leaked out of the hapaki’s mind as he was leaving. Sam caught the words kittens and distract.

  “Sam, Nalia, Rindu,” the old scholar said when they found him in his library. “You’ve returned. We were worried when you didn’t come back last night. Is everything all right?”

  “We reached Gutu,” Sam said simply. “There was fighting and we lost Inoria. She had a device given to her by that assassin that tried to kill you. It let him know somehow where we were.”

  Sam’s eyes dropped to his feet. “She was heartbroken about her little brother, desperate. She didn’t do it out of malice or betrayal. She was just trying to protect her family. She�
�”

  Dr. Walt’s eyes became liquid as he looked, first to Sam, then to Nalia and her father. “Yes, Sam, I understand. It is a tragedy, to be sure, but no one can blame a sister from trying to help her brother. How did Emerius take it?”

  “He was,” Rindu said, “distressed.” He handed Inoria’s device to Dr. Walt. “After grieving, after we had buried and given our respects to the dead, he erected strong walls around himself. He is seething with cold rage. I hope he can find his way through and emerge stronger for it. He worries me.”

  “I see.” Dr. Walt was turning the device around in his hands. It looked like a brooch for holding a cloak closed. It was made from some type of precious stone, Nalia thought, though she couldn’t identify which. It was muddy brown, carved into the likeness of a beetle. “I assume you will be watching him closely to help him in his journey.”

  “No,” Nalia said. “He went after Tingai, believing that vengeance was more important than saving all of Gythe from Ayim Rasaad.”

  “Nalia,” Rindu said. “that is unkind. Emerius Dinn did not choose Tingai over Gythe. He merely followed his feelings to the most pressing task, as he sees it. He has a good heart, but one weighed down by sorrow. Do not judge him too harshly. Grief can cloud one’s thinking, as you well know.”

  Nalia felt her face flush. She remembered her outbursts, her faulty reasoning when she returned, barely alive, from watching her mother and her sisters being killed by the Gray Man. “You are correct, father. Please forgive my foolish talk.”

  Her father put his hand on her shoulder, his eyes conveying that he understood.

  “Oh,” Dr. Walt said. “Well, then, I hope he is able to accomplish what he seeks. Nasty business, the mutation research that Tingai fellow engages in. May I ask, then, where Baron Tingai and Ayim Rasaad are?”

  Sam cleared his throat. “That’s the problem, Dr. Walt. They left Gutu going in different directions. Both north, according to the fortress steward, but different paths. Rasaad is going to the next artifact, and she has a very long head start. We were hoping you could help us. If we can teleport somewhere ahead of her, we may be able to get the artifact first, bring it back here, and stop her plans.”

  “Sam, I would dearly love to help, but I don’t know what I can do.” Dr. Walt absently turned Inoria’s device over in his hand. “I know that she is probably going for Orum, the drum, but I don’t know where it is. I believe she would leave Bruqil for last because it is the item that ties the others together.”

  “Could you figure out how that device works?” Sam pointed to it. “If we can use it in reverse, find where that assassin is, maybe he will be with Rasaad and maybe we can figure out where she’s going. Then, if I know a location closer to the artifact than she is right now, we can leapfrog her.”

  “That is quite a lot of ifs, Sam,” Dr. Walt said. “I will study this brooch and see what I can do. Perhaps we should check with Lahim. He may have had a viewing.”

  “That’s right!” Sam exclaimed. “I had forgotten. I’ll check with him now. That’s a great idea.” Sam started to leave, but Dr. Walt waved his hand for him to stop.

  “I believe he’s in the south garden, probably very close to the keep. He has been walking a bit of late, using a cane and doing so slowly, but still making it out to get some air once per day. Usually in the morning. His health is improving, albeit slowly.”

  “That’s good news, too,” Sam said. “I’ll head there now. This is too important to wait for such small things as taking a bath or getting into fresh clothes.” He sniffed at his shirt. “But right after talking with Lahim, then it’s time for a bath and fresh clothes. Whew.”

  Nalia and her father went with Sam to talk to Lahim Chode. She could see from his reaction to Dr. Walt’s suggestion that he was grasping at whichever idea he could find to try to learn where they would go next. She understood. She also wanted to prevent Ayim Rasaad from obtaining the artifact Orum. She fervently hoped that they would learn something of value from the man they were going to see.

  The remote viewer was sitting on a wooden bench, looking out over the south park. It was peaceful, with fresh snow blanketing much of the landscape. The trees that still had their leaves or needles were weighed down by the white powder and the trackless expanse looked as if no one had ever been there before. Off to the right, a rabbit was nibbling on some vegetation it had uncovered, its tracks pursuing it and marking where it had been.

  Lahim Chode had not seen them yet, as they emerged from the door to the keep. He had cut his wild hair and shaved. His gaunt face looked to have fleshed out since the last time they had seen him. He still looked frail, but not quite so much as when last they met him. He turned when Sam scuffed his boot on the path. His face lit up.

  “You’re back.” His expression dropped and was replaced with one of sadness. “I’m sorry about Inoria, and that you weren’t able to catch Rasaad in Gutu. If I’d known before, I would have told you.”

  “Thank you,” Sam said. “You viewed what happened, then?”

  “Just enough to fill in the blanks. The assassin, Vahi, contacted Inoria and gave her the brooch. Bad business, that. Do you know how frustrating it is to view things when they no longer can help? If I’d had my viewing just a few days before, things may have turned out differently.” Lahim Chode put his head in his hands.

  “It must be a heavy burden, this power of yours,” Nalia said. The seer started as if surprised. “You must have had people your entire life blame you for not telling them their futures quickly enough to avert catastrophe. Is it not so?”

  “It is,” he said. “Thank you for understanding.” The seer paused for a moment. “I suppose you’re here to see if I had any other viewings, something that can help.”

  “Yes,” Sam said.

  “I have been trying to get useful information, but I keep seeing the army that is being built. One of the most frustrating things about my ability is that the harder I try, the harder it is to accomplish what I want. It’s like squeezing a wet cake of soap. Clench your fist too hard and it jumps out of your grasp.

  “That being said, I was able to find one piece of information that may help. I saw an argument between Rasaad and Tingai. She demanded that he accompany her, but he said that their master wanted him elsewhere. I don’t understand that bit of it, but that’s not important right now. What is important is that Ayim Rasaad mentioned the location of the drum artifact. It was Iboghan.”

  “Iboghan,” Sam repeated. “In Old Kasmali, that’s ‘heart of hell.’ What does that mean?”

  “I’m sorry,” Lahim Chode said, “but I don’t know. It could mean anything. Is it figurative, literal, some recognized name? I just don’t know. Maybe Dr. Walt can help. When I get back to my room, I’ll try to find more information and send for you as soon as I find out anything else.”

  Sam looked thoughtful and shifted his gaze to Nalia and her father. “Heart of hell. Does that name mean anything to either of you?”

  “I am afraid not,” Rindu said.

  “No,” Nalia answered.

  “Okay, then. Next stop, Dr. Walt.” Sam turned to Lahim Chode. “Thank you Lahim. At least it’s something. We’ll figure it out. Oh, and I like the haircut and shave.”

  The seer smiled. “Thank you, Sam. I’ll look like a human again in no time. Feeling like one will take a little longer, I’m afraid, but my health is improving.”

  “Thank you, Lahim Chode,” Nalia said as they were leaving. “May your health continue to improve.”

  Dr. Walt was still where they had left him, sitting in his library, poring over the books and scrolls spread out on the table in front of him.

  “Dr. Walt,” Sam said. “We talked with Lahim and he gave us a name. We’re hoping you can help us with it.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” the old man said. “What is the name?”

  “Iboghan.”

  “Iboghan? You mean, Iboghan as in ‘the heart of hell?’”

  Sam nodded. “That’s t
he one. Have you heard of it?” Nalia could see the anticipation in his eyes. And hear it in his voice.

  “No, I’m sorry,” Dr. Walt said. Sam’s eyebrows drooped and his shoulders slumped.

  “It does sound familiar for some reason, though,” the scholar said, putting his fist to his forehead. “Where, though? Where did I see that name? Maybe in Azel’s Compendium? No, no. Chintel’s Atlas of the Known World? Perhaps. If I could just—” Dr. Walt looked up and his eyes widened. Nalia was used to the old scholar getting so caught up in his internal debates that he forgot there were others there.

  “Oh, sorry,” Dr. Walt said. “Listen, Sam, give me a bit of time to try to find mention of this Iboghan. Without a classification system for all the records here, I find I have to rely on my memory, which, at this time, is not seeming to cooperate. When I find what I’m looking for, I will search you out. In the meantime, you can eat something and clean up, maybe rest a bit. I’ll do my best.”

  Sam’s shoulders slumped. “Okay. Thank you Dr. Walt. I’ll check back with you later. Maybe I can help you look for it.”

  “Yes, that would be grand,” Dr. Walt said toward the book he was opening, already caught up in his search for the information.

  The three left the library. As they were going toward their respective rooms, Nalia saw Torim Jet and Palusa Filk coming the other way. After fond greetings, she explained what happened the day before and asked the two Zouyim if they knew the name Lahim Chode had given them.

  “It does sound familiar,” Torim Jet said, “but I cannot remember any details. Perhaps we can assist Dr. Walt in finding reference to it. We have been studying in the libraries these past few weeks and may be of value to him.”

  “That would be very kind,” Nalia said to them, bowing. “Thank you.”

  “It is our privilege to aid in any way we can,” the old monk said. “Come, Palusa Filk, this task is more pressing than that which we were previously focused upon.”

  The younger Zouy waved farewell to Nalia and the others as she accompanied Torim Jet. Nalia was happy that the monks were there. Not only was it a comfort that the Zouyim order was not lost, but they would be a great help in finding the information they sought.