Harmonic Magic Series Boxed Set

by P. E. Padilla

  “Sorry,” Sam said, purposely relaxing his tense shoulders and neck. He did trust Nalia’s abilities. Nevertheless, it was hard watching the battle and not joining.

  Sam looked around the chamber. The main battle had essentially stopped. Emerius stood with an arrow nocked, but not drawn, taking turns in scanning the edge of the forces arrayed against him and watching the battle with Nalia unfold. Ix, too, was dividing her attention between the battle and the soldiers standing only a few feet away, mesmerized by what was happening. The rakkeben and Oro were likewise immobile. It was highly improbable, Sam thought, but he was seeing it for himself.

  Rasaad spun, throwing kicks so perfectly and rapidly that Nalia could not get her blades around to strike at the legs. As the former Zouy spun around again, she whipped the metal staff out, aiming toward Nalia’s head. The Sapsyr brought both swords up and deflected the blow, sparks rocketing from the point of impact and showering the opponents. Then, without any break in the motion, Ayim Rasaad squatted low as she turned again, sweeping one leg out to strike at Nalia’s feet. Nalia seemed almost off-balance from the flurry of strikes preceding it, but managed to leap into the air, turn a twist, and land lightly on her feet while striking down first with the sword in her right hand and then following immediately with her left.

  Rasaad angled her staff so that the first strike slid off to her left and then brought the staff up in time to slap the second strike, making it go wide to the right. A high-pitched ring reverberated in the cavern. It seemed to last for several seconds. In the meantime, Rasaad changed her grip on the staff.

  It was shorter than any staff Sam had ever seen, though not so short as a fighting stick, maybe four feet in length. The grip the woman was using now looked like a modified sword grip, hands at one end and the tip and most of the shaft being used for striking. She whipped it around and caused Nalia to backstep then angle off to the side to try to evade it and find an opening so she could strike.

  The two lunged back and forth, one or the other moving to the side rather than linearly to try to get around the other’s guard. Sam thought of some of the fencing matches he’d seen in the Olympics. When there were two particularly skilled fencers, a match may go several several seconds before a touch, with most of the movement in straight lines. What these two women were doing was so complex, Sam almost couldn’t believe it. And still neither had been struck.

  Nalia had been backed against a large stone formation and was barely deflecting Rasaad’s blows. Sam’s breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t sure how she would get out of that position. The two seemed to be so equally matched in ability that any little advantage seemed a huge obstacle. He saw Rasaad say something to Nalia and the Sapsyr’s eyes flashed. He felt a tremor go through the energy he and Rindu were maintaining.

  As she was parrying aside an overhand strike meant to crush her skull, Nalia’s foot came up, impossibly fast and at an angle that flesh and bone should not have been able to accomplish, striking Rasaad in the jaw. The awkum master’s head snapped back and she was propelled backward.

  Sam’s elation was cut short, though, as Ayim Rasaad converted the motion into a graceful backflip. As her body became right-side-up again, her left hand flicked out and there was a flash of several objects shooting toward Nalia. Sam heard himself gasp when he realized what they were: razor-sharp darts. Rasaad had thrown them, landed with too much backward momentum, and rolled to dissipate the energy, coming smoothly back to her feet.

  Nalia’s shrapezi blurred as she levered them in front of her. Sam heard twin twangs as two of the darts were deflected, one spinning off to strike one of the soldiers standing by. The third, unfortunately, made it through. Nalia’s grunt as it hit her left shoulder made Sam wince.

  Despite the injury, Nalia pressed the attack. Rasaad was barely able to get her staff up in time to block the first blow. She narrowly avoided the kick that followed. Nalia was whirling faster now, taking advantage of her momentum to whip out her blades to try to strike her opponent. She leaped in the air and wheeled around to drop a kick onto Rasaad from overhead, changing her motion from the side-to-side twirling to an implacable downward force. The former Zouy was hard-pressed to escape the attack.

  Sam saw, as Nalia was coming down, that the kick was a diversion. As her body pin-wheeled around to launch the kick, she moved her injured left arm and then released the shrapezi to allow it to hang motionless in the air for a fraction of a second. Then, as her body rotated, she swung the blade in her right hand and caught the other blade, hook to hook. Continuing her spin, the free sword whipped out like a chain weapon, going toward Rasaad’s head.

  Ayim Rasaad’s eyes went wide as she held her staff with both hands in a powerful block meant to stop Nalia’s sword. She realized, too late, that she was, in fact, facing two swords, end to end. The shrapezi in Nalia’s hand was blocked, but the other sword whipped around, pivoting on the hook, and went over Rasaad’s guard. The sharpened spike cut a deep furrow in the awkum master’s skull, the blade continuing down to part her nose cleanly in two and separate the flesh of her lips. A sort of strangled gasp escaped as she tried to back away. But it was too late.

  Nalia caught the handle of the shrapezi with her left hand, wincing at the pain it caused in her shoulder. Before Rasaad could react, she thrust both swords toward the woman, arms crossed with the sword in the right hand going to her left and the sword in her left hand going right. As Ayim Rasaad tried to spin the staff up in time to block the strikes, Nalia pulled her swords back toward herself and outward.

  There was a sickening wet sound as the razor-sharp inside blades of the hooks caught Ayim Rasaad’s neck. Her head flew free from her body and the woman who had once been a Zouyim monk but who traded it for unscrupulous power, dropped to the stone floor, headless and very dead.

  The cavern grew silent as a tomb. Sam could hear Nalia breathing hard, something he didn’t think he had ever heard before. He looked around and saw his friends, mouths open, jaws slack, staring at the headless form of Ayim Rasaad. For a good five seconds, there was no movement, no other sound.

  Then, as if waking from a dream, Sam saw heads shaking and eyes snapping into focus. The soldiers who had been watching the battle to see their leader victorious suddenly realized things had shifted. Half of those on the front line turned to run. The others brought up their weapons to try to kill the party. They all fared the same.

  Sam, Nalia—moving her left arm carefully—and Rindu joined the battle once more. The soldiers trying to escape were cut down easily, trapped between their fellows further into the passage and the warriors dealing death from the chamber. It took only a few minutes until all the forces changed their direction and began to flee.

  “Allow them to flee,” Rindu called out to the party. Sam, Nalia, and Ix stopped immediately. The rakkeben stopped very soon after. Even Oro, after looking around at the others, figured out what was going on and stopped mauling the fleeing soldiers. Emerius, though, was still shooting arrow after arrow at the retreating foes, screaming at them incoherently.

  “Em!” Sam yelled to the big hunter. “Em, that’s enough. We’ve won.”

  Still the hunter fired his arrows rapidly, each one striking a vital area, taking another life. It wasn’t until Ix slipped up behind him and put her arm on his shoulder that he looked up and noticed that no one else was fighting. Arms dropping, he slumped. He had a haunted look in his eyes. Sam hoped something had not broken in his friend.

  Sam looked around. Half the cavern was full of bodies. The passageway had narrowed considerably because of the corpses piled there. There would have been many more, he knew, without the choke point of the narrow passage, some of them theirs. He sighed. So much death. Why did there always have to be so much death? He felt his stomach roil, but fought it. He had to make sure everyone was safe.

  He went first to Nalia, to check on her shoulder. He found her sitting on a smooth rock formation, pulling a small dart from her flesh. She was bleeding, but not profuse
ly.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her.

  “I am well,” she answered. “It is just a scratch. I do not think there was poison on it. We can dress it when we get back to Whitehall. Check on the others.”

  Sam did as she suggested. Oro and the rakkeben all had minor cuts and some bruises, but nothing that was serious. Ix, surprisingly, had a few shallow cuts also.

  “What do you expect?” she asked. “While you were enjoying yourself and taking your time getting here, I was the only one fighting at close range, and without my ability to teleport. I’d like to see you do better.”

  Sam put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I was just surprised. I have seen you fight. It seems difficult to strike you, that’s all. I’m glad you’re not seriously hurt.”

  Her eyes lost some of their fire. “Yeah, well, okay. It’s possible to hit me. Just ask your girlfriend.” She nodded toward Nalia. “Anyway, I’ll be fine. I just want to get out of here. These caves are kind of giving me the creeps, with their teleportation blocking powers and all that.”

  “I agree,” Sam said. “I want to make sure everyone is okay and then we’ll collect the artifacts and go to where we can teleport home.”

  Uh, Sam? Skitter sent.

  Oh my God, Skitter, Sam sent back. In all the excitement, I forgot to check on you. Are you okay? Are you injured?

  I am not injured. I hid. There is something else, though.

  Something else? Sam sent. What is it?

  The drum is gone.

  “What?” Sam said aloud. The others all looked at him.

  “Skitter just told me that the drum is missing. He hid it, but now it’s gone.” He ran to where Ayim Rasaad’s body still lay. Trying to avoid the blood as much as he could, he rolled her body over and checked the pouch on her waist. He had seen her put the bell, Azgo, in there. The container was empty.

  “No,” he said. “No!” He connected his two sticks so that Ahimiro was a staff again. He created the light on the tip and made it as bright as he could. Pure, white light flooded the cavern, making the scene look even more grisly than it had before. “Everyone, both artifacts are missing. We have to find them. One could have been knocked out of its place, even into the pit, but not both. The one from Rasaad’s pouch is missing, too. Someone took them.”

  The party searched the cavern and the passageway for over two hours, moving bodies, looking for any sign of what happened to the artifacts. They found nothing. Rindu was not even able to sense them any longer.

  I’m sorry, Sam, Skitter sent. I was standing right near where I hid the drum. Even during Nalia’s fight, I was only a few feet away. I don’t know how someone was able to take them.

  It’s not your fault, buddy, Sam consoled the hapaki. None of us saw who did it.

  The party had moved out of the passage into the Great Room, near where the machine that misdirected centuries of tourists sat.

  “I knew Tingai wouldn’t be here,” Emerius said, “but I thought that mutated assassin would have stayed with Rasaad. I want him dead almost as much as Tingai. Maybe they’re together.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Sam said, not really paying attention to the conversation. He was already trying to figure out what the missing artifacts meant. He was pretty sure whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

  Rindu came up to Sam, moving carefully. “Sam, there is nothing else we can do here. Let us go back to Whitehall so we can determine what our next steps will be.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” Sam said, eyeing the way the Zouy was moving. “Are you injured, Master Rindu?”

  “I am sore, that is all,” the Zouy answered. “That blast of the other energy, of the awkum, was very powerful. I will be fine with some rest.”

  There was nothing to do but to go back to their home. They could discuss what their next steps would be then. Sam gathered the party and within a few minutes he was teleporting them back to the fortress. He was glad to find out that the power blocking their teleporting abilities was limited to the secret passages.

  No sooner had they arrived at Whitehall than Lahim Chode, looking much healthier than he had the last time they saw him, came walking up quickly, still using a staff for support but not seeming to rely on it. “Oh, I’m glad you’re back. I’ve had some viewings. Please come with me to Dr. Walt’s library. I’m afraid we have a new enemy, one that is worse than Ayim Rasaad.”

  Chapter 61

  “You lost track of the artifacts?” Dr. Walt’s bushy white eyebrows looked ready to take flight and leave his forehead completely. “That is dire news indeed.” They were in one of the meeting halls, the closest one to the teleportation area.

  Rindu looked back and forth from Dr. Walt to the seer. The latter had a forced neutral look on his face. “This does not surprise you, Lahim Chode?” Rindu asked. Surprise leapt onto the seer’s face, but then was smoothed away quickly.

  “I…did not know, but it’s not surprising,” Chode responded.

  “He wouldn’t tell me of his viewings until you were all here,” Dr. Walt said. “Maybe now we can get some answers.”

  “First,” Chode said, “please tell me what happened. I may be able to piece some things together that way.”

  Sam told the tale, from the last time they were in the fortress until they returned. Everyone was there: Dr. Walt, Lahim Chode, Danaba Kemp, Nicole, all three hapaki, Torim Jet, Palusa Filk, and Chisin Ling were silent as he described what they had been through.

  “I see,” the seer said. “It makes more sense now, but it is still not completely clear. I will tell you of the strong visions I had. They were even clearer than is typical, for some reason.

  “I was not trying to view anything. I was simply meditating to relax and to ease my anxiety. The viewings came unbidden, something that has not happened in years. It was of a large chamber, the walls of stone but almost completely covered by tapestries depicting battles. I did not recognize the style of the weaving nor any of the scenes themselves.

  “At first, I was seeing from the viewpoint of one of the people in the room. I saw to whom this person was talking, a very tall, thin creature that resembled a man, but was not. It…he was completely hairless, wearing only a breech cloth. His head was larger than it should have been for a man, and his arms were longer than seemed natural as well. His long, almost skeletal fingers ended in sharp nails that were very nearly claws.”

  “That’s the assassin who tried to kill Dr. Walt,” Danaba Kemp said.

  “Yes, that was my thought also,” Lahim Chode said, “from the description you gave after the attack, and from the glimpse I got of one in my previous visions.

  “The voice of the person whose point of view I was sharing said, ‘Vahi, we have much work to do. Ayim Rasaad is no more and so it is up to us, you and I and Tingai, to complete what she started. We must get the final artifact.’

  “As Vahi, the assassin, nodded his agreement, my point of view swung around until it was able to take in the entire chamber. The one who had spoken, from whose eyes I had been watching, was an old man. A very old man.

  “He was a taller than average man, though not nearly as tall as the assassin. His body still seemed rugged, thick of limb, not at all like most very old men I have seen. He had a full head of white hair, except perhaps for some that was missing from his larger-than-normal forehead. He wore a close-cropped beard. The lines and wrinkles on his face lent him an expressive quality as he spoke to the assassin.

  “‘Yes, master,’ Vahi said. ‘We will find it and then all three will be in your possession. Then all of Gythe will know its new ruler, Chetra Dal.’”

  Rindu’s throat constricted and he found he could not finish the breath he had started. “Chetra Dal?” he said after he had fought to seize a breath. “Did you say Chetra Dal?”

  Lahim Chode looked to Rindu with concern, taken aback by the urgency in the Zouy’s voice. “Yes, that’s what they said. Chetra Dal. Does that name mean something to you?”

  Rindu looked to Torim
Jet. The older Zouy had a look of shock on his face as well. It reflected perfectly what Rindu felt.

  “That…is not possible,” Torim Jet said. “Master Chetra Dal has been dead for thirty-five years.”

  “Chetra Dal was the heart of the Zouyim order,” Rindu explained. “When the old Grandmaster died, he was the unanimous choice to succeed him. Master Dal declined. Still, for decades, through two other Grandmasters, his counsel was sought. He was the wisest, the most powerful among us. He it was that taught me Syray, the language and art of calligraphy. He it was who, more than any other single person, is the reason I am who I am today.

  “He was the best of us, and when word of his death on a mission that to this day remains shrouded in mystery came to the temple, it was as if the sun had been blotted out. Master Chetra Dal could not be alive, could not be this villain who has set himself against us. It must be someone else, someone using the name of our great master. That he does so doubles his crimes.”

  “Yes,” Torim Jet breathed, “an imposter. That is it. You heard the men speaking, Lahim Chode, but you cannot ascertain the truth of what they spoke. We will uncover this liar when we defeat him and the honorable name of our master will continue to shine without this shadow of accusation.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, Rindu,” Dr. Walt said. “We will learn the truth. However, that brings up the subject of what we shall do next. Will we try to find the man, wait for him to come to us, or something else? We still have the army being arrayed against us.”

  Rindu’s mind was still reeling over the news about Chetra Dal. There was not a day that went by without something reminding him of his old master, something recalling how wise he was. He had spent his life trying to emulate the man. Who would use that name, and to what purpose?

  He realized that no one had spoken. Shifting his attention on the matter at hand, Rindu did so. “Lahim Chode, have you seen anything that would indicate where this army is, or the imposter? Or do you know where the third and final artifact is?”