Although they started out early the next morning, John and Ghorza were delayed leaving the city. They made it as far as the gate, but were stopped there as company after company of troops was directed through ahead of them. In every military parade John had seen growing up, the crowd cheered the soldiers on. Not only were the people not cheering the soldiers marching by, they gave every appearance of actively disliking them. He saw several of the passers-by spit in the direction of the troops.
“What’s going on?” asked John. “Where are the troops going? Why aren’t the people cheering for them?”
“You’ve come here at a bad time,” replied Ghorza. “Our country is at war. The armies of Salidar have come.”
“From your tone, I’m guessing they didn’t come bearing gifts,” said John, “but I don’t know anything about it. Is Salidar your enemy?”
“Don’t you know anything about this land?” asked Ghorza, frustration heavy in her voice. John shook his head, so she continued. “Our world has two continents. You are currently on the continent of Tasidar, which lies to the north; to the south of us lies Salidar, separated by an ocean. It is a land of evil. Trolls, ogres and orcs all roam freely there, which until recently was the best thing that could be said about it. All of those races roamed freely. They fought and they died in their petty territorial squabbles, and they stayed there. There was never a force to unify them, so they were never a threat to Tasidar. Every once in a while raiders would hit some of our southern towns and villages, but the raiders were always disorganized and easily driven off.”
“Until recently?”
“Yes,” Ghorza said, nodding her head. “Until recently. Something unified them. Now when the raiders hit our villages, they don’t leave anything behind except the dead bodies of the village men. The women and children they carry off, along with anything else that has value to them. They burn the rest. They are so well organized now that they disappear before help can arrive. They’ve even hit some of the larger towns.” She shook her head. “It’s bad.”
“So they’re sending the troops out to defend the villages along the coast?”
“No,” replied Ghorza. “That’s not the worst of it. After months of increasing instability, a few weeks ago there was a coup in Carpos, the kingdom to the east of here. The new government welcomed in a contingent from Salidar, and within days there were ogres manning the castle walls during the day and hill giants at night. Our ambassador and all of her staff were killed, as were all of the people from our nation inside Carpos’ borders. The fall of Carpos caught everyone here by surprise. Although we have a standing army, it was never intended to fight a land war against armies of ogres and giants. The navy was supposed to keep most of them from seeing our shores, and we counted on the armies of Carpos and the other countries to assist in fighting any of the Salidarians that made it to our shores. Not having Carpos’ support completely undermines our war plans; having Carpos actively bringing in more and more of our enemies makes a war unwinnable.”
“So, who are these soldiers?” asked John, looking at the mounted cavalry that was now passing by.
“These are mercenary troops,” replied Ghorza. “I think this contingent was raised and paid for by the merchants’ guild, under the direction of Solim Asmar. You met his younger brother Rubic at the Magisterium; he was the halfling that brought you down to where the Magistra and I were talking. Solim organized the guild and paid for these troops. They are barbarians from the Central Desert and are little more than savages. If their captains didn’t watch them, they would probably loot the cities they were supposed to defend. That is why no one likes them; they can’t be trusted.”
“If these are mercenaries,” John asked, “where are your real armies?”
“They are out on the front lines,” replied Ghorza. “All of them. Every soldier and combat mage that we have is on the border with Carpos. There’s no one guarding the southern villages except the local militias. These mercenary troops were going to assist with the raiders, but they just got called to the front lines, as well. A group of trolls were spotted in Carpos; it is hoped that the mercenaries on horseback can stop them, should they cross the border.”
“Can they?”
“I don’t know,” Ghorza said with a shrug. “All of the skilled mages, even the ones that haven’t been trained for combat, are on standby to assist the army with the defense of the capital. That is why it is up to Dantes and me to track down Milos; all of the senior operatives are with the army. There’s no one else to send. If Dantes and I hadn’t been on probation, we would have been there, too. His fire magic would be very welcome against the trolls.”
“Can’t you do fire magic?”
“Of course not,” replied Ghorza. “You’ve seen me cast translation spells. My specialty is air.”
“What do you mean?” asked John, confused. “You can’t cast fire spells? Why not? Wouldn’t that be a lot more useful in combat?”
“No, I can’t cast fire spells,” replied Ghorza, picking the easiest of the questions to answer first. “Let me guess, you don’t know how magic works, either?”
“No, I don’t,” said John. “We don’t have magic where I’m from, so I don’t know anything about it. I mean, there are lots of games that pretend to use it, and tons of stories exist about it, but we don’t have any real magic in my world. How do you start? Can anyone do it? If so, can you teach me to cast a spell?”
“Hmmm...” Ghorza thought a moment. She’d never been asked those questions before, nor had she ever had to explain magic; everyone grew up with it, and they knew everything they were supposed to know. “Well, first of all, not everyone can cast spells; only about 10% of the people are born with the ability to cast minor spells, which we call cantrips. If you aren’t born with that ability, you will never get it.”
“Most of the people that can cast cantrips never go any further than that,” Ghorza continued. “No one knows why, just like no one knows why only certain people can cast spells at all. Only about 10% of the people who have the ability to cast cantrips also have the ability to progress and get better at it.”
“I take it you are one of those people,” asked John, “since some of the things I’ve seen you do have to be higher-level stuff.”
“Yes, I am,” said Ghorza, “I am a mage, which is what we call the people that are able to advance their skills in magic. I was rapidly advancing as a mage until the Spectre Episode, as it is called here. Things have slowed since.”
“Why is that?” asked John.
“Simple,” Ghorza replied. “If you use your talents in the service of your god, you advance your skills faster than any other way. After we made the mistake with you, we were removed from active questing for the last three years. Dantes and I were just reinstated yesterday. I wasn’t sure we would ever be reinstated.”
“Three years?” John asked. “You said that before, but it’s only been a few days since I saw you.”
“Only a few days may have passed where you live,” replied Ghorza, “but here in Tasidar, three years have passed, and they have been long ones.”
The last of the mercenaries passed through the gate. The soldiers that were manning the gate waved at them to hurry through, as if they were the ones that had been blocking traffic through the gate for the last 15 minutes. As they walked through the gate and into the city slums outside, John had a thought. “Why weren’t you reinstated before now?”
“What do you see when you look at me?” asked Ghorza, happy to be on the other side of the questioning for once.
“I don’t know if everything in my world is the same as it is here,” replied John, “but if so, I’d have to guess that you are a half-orc.”
“I am indeed a half-orc,” said Ghorza. “The question remains, though. What do you see?”
John looked at Ghorza, trying to determine what it was that she wanted him to see. The green skin? The small pig tusks? The fact that she had more hair than any other girl John had ever seen?
“I don’t get it,” he finally said. “What is it that you want me to see?”
“How about this, then. Do you remember Dantes? What did he look like?”
“Um, no disrespect meant to your friend,” replied John carefully, hearing an edge to Ghorza’s tone, “but he either looked like a devil or had the best devil costume I’ve ever seen.”
“Exactly,” Ghorza said. “Dantes is a teufling; half man and half devil. One of his parents was a full-blooded devil, but he’s never said which one. In fact, he never talks about his family.” She stopped walking and turned to face John. She was big enough to stop the traffic behind them momentarily, but then it flowed around them like a rock in a stream. Fists clenched in anger, Ghorza seemed oblivious to it. “Do you know why he never talks about them? Because people already don’t trust us since one of our parents came from an evil race. That is why we haven’t been reinstated. Most of the humans around here don’t trust us and don’t want to give us a second chance. They think we’re responsible for stealing the queen’s crown.”
“Well, it doesn’t bother me,” said John, and he began walking again to break the mood. He hoped it would give her an outlet for her anger, but his plan backfired; Ghorza began walking, and her angry strides were much longer than John’s. He almost had to jog to keep up with her. “What would have happened if he hadn’t been reinstated?” he puffed. “What would he have done?”
“I don’t know,” Ghorza answered, “but I imagine his patience is running out. At some point, he’ll probably give up on the Academy and will be lost to us.”
“Why would he be lost? What does that mean?”
Ghorza sighed. “As I already said, you increase your magical abilities by using them in the service of your god. When Dantes came to the Academy, he swore to serve Incendius, who is one of the five gods of good. At some point, he will probably break his vow and choose to serve the evil god of fire. I hope he doesn’t because I would hate to have to cross spells with him. He is almost like a brother to me.” Ghorza shuddered unintentionally.
“Do you serve the same god?”
“No,” Ghorza said, “each of the gods has an elemental sphere. There are good and evil gods of the four elements: earth, fire, water and air. My talents are in the realm of air; I serve Coelius, the good god of air.”
“You said there were five gods of good,” noted John. “What is the fifth god’s sphere?”
“No one knows,” replied Ghorza. “The fifth god of good disappeared sometime in the past, and the knowledge of the god’s elemental sphere has been lost. Not only did the fifth god of good disappear, but the fifth god of evil, as well.”
“I’m curious,” John said. “I played a lot of magic games growing up. You talked about good and evil; is there a difference between law and chaos?”
“I thought you said that you didn’t have magic where you came from,” said Ghorza.
“We don’t have real magic like you do,” replied John, “with spells you can cast that actually do things. All of our magic was just pretend.”
“Well, it is quite real here,” Ghorza stated. “The first time you are the recipient of a flame strike, you will realize just how very real it is.” She paused and then added, “As to your other question, if you believe in law, you are good. Those that are chaotic in nature worship the gods of evil. There is no distinction.”
“Well that’s at least easy to understand,” John said. “So, how do I find out if I am a mage?”
Chapter 14
“I see,” replied Solim, pursing his lips, “the Magistra sent them to bring back the devil. I’m glad you came to tell me; the person I asked to watch the outlander failed me, and I didn’t know where he had gone.” He paused, stroking his goatee. He had grown it to further disguise his face but found that stroking it helped him think. “It is unfortunate that those two are to be paired up again, but it is too late for them to do the Magisterium any good. By the time they get back, it will all be over.”
“If you say so, my brother,” replied Rubic, who wasn’t briefed on any of the overarching plans. He looked around Solim’s hidden office to mask his annoyance. Although he didn’t mind spying for his half-brother, he wished that Solim would trust him more. The room hadn’t changed much since his last visit, although Cuddles had grown at least a foot.
“Did you learn anything else?” Solim asked.
“The mouse I was using to spy on them was on the other side of the room,” Rubic replied, “so I couldn’t hear everything. The Magistra sent them to get something, and then they were to go bring back the devil.”
Solim stroked his beard a few more times and then nodded his head, coming to a conclusion. “I don’t want them back. Follow them and find out what their plans are. If you get the opportunity, kill them.”
Chapter 15
Ghorza and John made camp as darkness fell. John looked up at the Mountain of Flames rising far above them. The lava inside the volcano’s cone gave the mountain top a soft glow. “Is it safe to camp here?” he asked. “What if the volcano erupts?”
“It hasn’t erupted in recent memory,” answered Ghorza. “Some say that the gods of fire keep the lava at the same level because they use it to bathe in.”
“Is that true?”
Ghorza laughed. “Who is to know?” she said. “The next time I see one, I’ll ask.”
She started to make the campfire. “This would be easier if Dantes were here,” she said, trying to coax a spark out of her piece of flint. “Even the fire cantrip would be helpful in getting this lit.”
“Can I try?” asked John. “You told me you’d let me try magic once we made camp. Maybe I can do it.”
Ghorza tossed the knife and flint onto her pack. “Sure,” she agreed. “I’ve never been good at lighting a campfire. That was always Dantes’ job. I was the cook.” She looked up the mountain where Dantes had been camping but couldn’t see any signs of habitation. “If we find him, don’t let him cook unless you like eating the soles of your sandals. He burns everything.”
She waved him over to the shallow fire pit she had dug. John walked over and looked down, and he could see a little ball of tinder inside a tepee of kindling. “What do I need to do?” he asked.
She pointed to a little gap in the kindling that she had been trying to get a spark through to the tinder. “Put your finger right there and say, ‘Scintilla!’ That is the fire cantrip, which makes a spark.”
“I thought you couldn’t do fire magic,” noted John.
“Just because I can’t do it doesn’t mean that I haven’t heard Dantes say it a hundred times. Are you going to do it, or should I try some more with the flint?”
“Yes, I’m going to try,” John said, looking at his hands. They were shaking. Badly. He didn’t know which scared him more: finding out that he couldn’t do magic...or finding out that he could. He blew out a large breath and knelt next to the fire pit. Holding out his finger like a wand, he cried, “Skintilda!” Nothing happened in the fire pit, and Ghorza began laughing.
“Skintilda!” she said, holding her stomach. “What’s a skintilda? It sounds like some kind of rodent.” She laughed some more, causing John’s face to go red. “What I said was, ‘Scintilla!’” she added, once she had calmed herself.
“Ha, ha, ha,” replied John in annoyance. “Why don’t you do it if you’re so perfect? Oh, yeah, I forgot. You can’t.”
“No, I can’t,” said Ghorza, sobering, “but I can do several other nasty things to you if you’d like.”
“No,” said John with a sigh. “Never mind; sorry. Just frustrated. My first chance to do real magic and I mess up the spell word.” He rolled his shoulders several times, relaxing himself. Before Ghorza could comment, he pointed his finger and said, “Scintilla!” A spark leapt from his finger onto the tinder. It glowed for a moment and then went out. He felt somewhat...emptier in his mind.
He looked up to find Ghorza staring at him with an open mouth. “By the fifth god,” she said. “You
did it.” She shook her head, clearing the disbelief from her face. “You need to blow on it gently once you get the spark on the tinder.”
John wasn’t listening, though; he was too busy jumping up and down. “I did it! I did it! I can do magic!” He ran over and started shaking Ghorza in his excitement. “You saw it! I can do magic! I’m a mage!”
The half-orc took hold of John’s hands and worked her way out of his grasp. “Yes, you did magic,” she said, “but it was only a cantrip. That doesn’t mean you’re a mage. The odds are still ten to one that you aren’t.” She tilted her head, peering down at him. “When you cast the spell, did you feel a little empty in your head afterward?”
“Yeah, I did. Is that good or bad?”
“It means that you have a mana store,” Ghorza explained. “In nearly all cases, that means you probably are a mage. We won’t know for sure for a while, though. You’ll have to cast the cantrip many times before you’re ready for a first level spell.” She indicated the fire pit. “Cast it again, and this time blow gently on the tinder once you get a spark on it.”
John focused on the tinder again. “Scintilla!” Once again, a spark leapt from his finger, landing on the tinder. He leaned forward and blew gently on it. The spark caught, and flames engulfed the ball of tinder. He continued to blow gently, and the flames grew, setting fire to the kindling with small crackling pops. He sat back, a satisfied smile on his face.
“Try casting it again,” urged Ghorza. “Keep casting it until you can’t do it anymore.”
Leaning forward, John commanded, “Scintilla!” For a third time, a spark leapt from his finger. He thought he heard an intake of breath from Ghorza, standing behind him. “Scintilla!” he ordered for a fourth time. This time was different. Where he had noticed a feeling of...potential...when he had concentrated on the spell word the other times, this time he didn’t feel anything. He just felt empty. “I didn’t get anything that time,” he said, stating the obvious.
Can't Look Back (War for Dominance Book 1) Page 6
