The Runic Trilogy: Books I to III (The Runic Series)

by Clayton Wood

  "I assure you," Kalibar retorted, "...it is." He stopped walking then, facing Kyle. "Your ring is very special, Kyle. It's extraordinarily sophisticated...beyond anything I've ever seen."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, in terms of complexity, if a typical runic device were a spark," Kalibar began...and suddenly a tiny white light appeared, floating in mid-air between Kyle and Kalibar. "...and if your earring were a flame," Kalibar continued. A small flame flickered gently in the air next to the spark. "Then your ring..."

  "What?" Kyle asked. Kalibar said nothing for a moment, instead turning his gaze upward, to the heavens.

  “Well," Kalibar answered. "Your ring would be the sun.”

  * * *

  "I find it fascinating that there’s no magic where you come from," Kalibar said as they walked back into the large room they'd been in earlier. Kalibar sat down where he had before, and motioned for Kyle to sit on the seat next to him. Kyle did so, rubbing his nose again. It still itched something fierce; he wondered if he'd suddenly developed allergies. Kalibar had spent much of the walk back to the mansion asking Kyle about Earth. The old man seemed quite perturbed that he'd never heard of Kyle's homeland.

  "You're sure you're not from Verhan?" Kalibar asked, not for the first time. Kyle nodded.

  "I'm sure," he answered. Kalibar frowned, tapping his chin with one finger. There was a sudden knock on the door, and it opened shortly thereafter. To Kyle's dismay, Darius walked through, sitting down on the chair to Kyle's left. Kyle ignored the man, keeping his eyes on Kalibar.

  “Well, most living things use magic here," Kalibar stated. "Plants, animals, birds, insects...almost everything possesses magic that enhances their survival capabilities.”

  Kyle nodded, although he hardly believed what he was hearing. Despite Kalibar's impressive demonstration, he still had a hard time believing that magic really existed.

  "People can use magic too – or at least some of them can,” Kalibar continued. “The gift runs in families, it seems. Most people can't make magic at all.”

  “Wait," Kyle said, rubbing his nose again. "So how do people make magic?" Kalibar shrugged.

  “We don't know," the old man admitted. “Magic is made by the brain, that much we do know. But flesh is actually a poor storage substance for magic, and so magic tends to leak from it. This 'leak' can be detected by other magic users,” Kalibar continued. “In fact, this is how we determine who can be trained to use magic, and who can't.”

  “Wait, so you can tell if someone makes lots of magic?” Kyle asked. Kalibar nodded.

  “Or whether they make any at all,” he replied. "Like I said, most people can't make magic. Those who can usually do so by puberty. I can tell if someone makes magic by simply standing near them, and sensing the amount of magic leaking from their mind." Kalibar paused for a moment, then pointed at Kyle's ring.

  “This 'leak' of magic also allows us to detect runic devices,” he added. “The magic of your ring is mostly stored in the crystal. Minerals are far better at storing magic than flesh...I believe it has something to do with the geometry of the crystalline matrix, but no one knows for sure.”

  Kyle nodded. So crystals were like batteries for magic...simple enough. He glanced at his ring, flexing his thumb. He still couldn't understand how his ring could be magical. There was no magic on Earth, after all. It was only special because his father had given it to him...it was the one tangible reminder he had of home. A reminder of where he'd come from...and where he belonged.

  “What's bothering you, Kyle?” Kalibar inquired. Kyle glanced up at Kalibar.

  “Nothing...” he lied. Then he shook his head. “I mean, it's just that...my parents don't know where I am.” He turned away from Kalibar and stared at the floor, taking a deep breath in, then letting it out.

  “Hmm,” Kalibar murmured. Kyle glanced up at Kalibar; the old man was staring at him, an odd expression on his face.

  "What?" Kyle asked.

  "You said that Urth was a...planet," Kalibar stated. Kyle half-expected the man to smirk, but he didn't.

  "It sounds crazy, I know," Kyle muttered.

  "It does," Kalibar agreed.

  "Magic sounds just as crazy to me," Kyle protested, crossing his arms over his chest. Kalibar arched an eyebrow.

  "I gave you proof of magic's existence," he countered. Kyle said nothing, recalling the demonstration earlier. There was nothing to say...Kalibar was right, of course. Kyle sighed, slumping back in his chair.

  "I just want to go home," he muttered.

  "I can't help you with that, I'm afraid," Kalibar admitted, leaning back in his chair and tapping his chin with one finger. "I have no idea how you got here...and no idea how to get you back to your home, wherever that is.” He frowned. "The Ancients once dreamed of visiting other planets," he added. "But their dreams died with them long ago."

  Kyle nodded, slumping over. He glanced at his father's ring, its yellow gemstone glittering dully on his thumb. If this was a different planet than Earth – which he still had a hard time believing – then he wasn't going back home.

  Ever.

  "Kyle," Kalibar said, snapping Kyle out of his thoughts. The old man leaned forward, putting a hand on Kyle's forearm. "I'm sorry."

  Kyle nodded silently, swallowing past a sudden lump in his throat, turning away from Kalibar and staring at the floor. He felt Kalibar squeeze his forearm gently.

  "There's no loss more painful than losing one's family," he stated gently. Kyle glanced up at Kalibar, and saw him staring off into the distance. A moment later, he snapped out of it, focusing on Kyle. "Hmm?"

  "Uh..."

  "Anyway," Kalibar stated, "...trust that I am eager to solve the mystery of where you're from, how you got here, and most importantly, why you're here."

  "Why?" Kyle asked.

  "See it from my perspective," Kalibar answered. "A young boy appears from a place I've never heard of, speaking a language I've never encountered, wearing a mysterious ring more sophisticated than any runic item in the known world." He leaned forward. "It raises so many questions! How did you get here? Does it have anything to do with your ring? What saved you from the rip-vines and the Ulfar?”

  Kyle considered this, saying nothing.

  “I also have to consider what would happen if anyone else found out about your ring," Kalibar added. "Or about...you. As much as I hate to admit it, most people here are not as principled as I am. Your ring might be the most valuable runic commodity in the known world. Many would kill – or worse – to possess it."

  Kyle felt a pang of fear, and clutched his ring to his belly. People would kill him just for his ring? He shrank into his chair, glancing at Darius. The man was staring back at him. Kyle turned away quickly, facing Kalibar again.

  "But you don't even know what my ring does," Kyle protested.

  "True," Kalibar agreed. "...but I know someone who may have better luck figuring it out. His name is Erasmus."

  "Erasmus?"

  "A close and trusted friend, and one of the finest Runic scholars I know," Kalibar replied. "If anyone can deduce the functions of your ring, he can."

  "Can we show it to him?" Kyle asked, perking up. If this Erasmus could figure out how his ring worked, he might be able to get back home.

  "It's not quite that simple," Kalibar admitted, leaning back in his chair and sighing. "Travel may not be as...safe as it used to be."

  "What do you mean?" Kyle pressed. Kalibar waved away the question.

  "If we did go," the old man stated, "...it would be a three day carriage ride from here. Erasmus lives in the capital of the Empire – a city called Stridon. He works at the Secula Magna."

  “The Secula what?”

  “The Secula Magna,” Kalibar repeated. “The school of magic. It's the most powerful magical institution in the known world," he added. "...and the political center of the Empire."

  "Could he figure out how to get me home?" Kyle asked, daring to hope. Kalibar shrugged.
<
br />   "I'm not certain that your ring played a role in your coming here," Kalibar replied. "Nevertheless, the possibility is worth the risk. I'll take you to Erasmus, and we will see."

  "Thanks," Kyle said, feeling relieved.

  "You're welcome," Kalibar replied. He stood from his chair then. "The trip will require careful planning. We'll leave tomorrow evening."

  "Thanks," Kyle said again. He hadn't expected things to move so quickly, but he wasn't about to complain!

  "Wait here," Kalibar ordered. "My staff will provide you with lunch." He walked toward the door. "I suggest you get plenty of rest."

  With that, Kalibar left, Darius following close behind, leaving Kyle alone in the room. Kyle sighed, putting his palms down on the tabletop. He stared at his ring, thinking back to what Kalibar had said.

  How could it be magical?

  He flexed his thumb, making the gemstone's facets glitter. If his ring was magical, then it had to be what had brought him here...there was no other explanation. And if it brought him here, then maybe it could send him back.

  Or maybe not, he thought darkly.

  He sighed, lowering his head and resting his cheek on the table. There was only one way to know for sure. Maybe, just maybe, this Erasmus would be able to figure it out.

  Chapter 5

  Ampir rushes toward Junior, leaping over the hole in the bedroom floor left by the massive bomb that had punched through the ceiling only seconds earlier.

  Junior!

  He weaves magic within his mind's eye, throwing out a pulsing knot of power at his son...just as the bomb detonates.

  No!

  The floor explodes, debris shooting upward all around them. The shockwave shoves him forward, catapulting him into the disintegrating hallway.

  Vera screams.

  Ampir hurtles forward, clutching onto Vera. He careens through the collapsing floor, the world spinning around him madly. Thick black smoke billows upward around them, flaming chunks of wood and stone ricocheting off of the magical shield surrounding them.

  He feels a jolt as his feet slam into the ground, hears Vera cry out in pain.

  Debris rains down around them, clattering on the surface of Ampir's translucent blue shield. Fine ash falls from the sky, the black smoke surrounding them making it nearly impossible to see. Ampir stands up, finding himself in a shallow, charred crater that is all that remains of their home. Vera twists in his arms.

  "Junior," Vera says, her voice rising in panic. "Where is he?"

  Ampir peers through the wall of smoke and ash surrounding them, turning in a slow circle. He sees a pile of rubble nearby, spots a faint blue light shining from between slabs of stone and ash. Ampir rushes up to it, lifting the rubble and tossing it to the side, revealing a shimmering blue sphere beneath. And within that sphere is Junior, curled up in a ball on the ground, staring up at Ampir with wide, terrified eyes.

  "My baby!" Vera cries, struggling against Ampir. He sets her down, the blue sphere around his son vanishing. Vera rushes to Junior's side, embracing him. Ampir puts a hand on her shoulder, then feels a faint vibration in his skull. He glances upward, peering through the thick smoke. There, hovering above the ruins of their home, is a huge silver airship. Rays of blue rise from the ground toward it, converging on a large white crystal on its underbelly.

  That's what bombed us, he realizes.

  "Get down," Ampir urges, kneeling and pulling Vera down with him.

  "What is it?" Vera asks, looking upward. But of course she can't see the ship; it is invisible through the blanket of smoke. Ampir can see it only through the power of his visor.

  "Don't move."

  The ship hovers there for another minute, then moves away from the house toward the Great River, picking up speed rapidly. It flies over the river toward the heart of the city.

  Ampir scoops Vera up in his arms, then turns to Junior.

  "Get on my back," he orders. Junior obeys silently, climbing onto his father's armored back. Ampir trudges through the rubble, until he stands on the scorched remains of their backyard. Beyond lies the Great River, and the cityscape of Stridon, capitol of the Empire. The Great Tower stands above all, its crystalline peak glittering in the starlight. Thick, angry clouds hang low in the sky above the city, illuminated by countless street lights.

  "What's happening?" Vera asks. "Why are we being attacked?"

  "I don't know," Ampir admits.

  "Who were those men?"

  "Don't know," Ampir repeats. "But I'm going to find out." He looks down at her. "First we need to get you help. The Royal surgeon is in the Tower...I knew him in the military. He's the best there is."

  "What's that?" Junior asks, pointing at something ahead. Ampir looks up, spotting a huge, faintly glowing green light coming from deep within the clouds above the city. As he watches, the light grows brighter.

  "I don't..."

  Then something falls through the clouds. Something huge. Two black metallic feet, followed by massive legs, each as tall as a five-story building. A metal torso, and then a massive, dome-shaped head. The behemoth falls through the sky toward the city below, wisps of cloud trailing from its limbs.

  What the...

  The monstrosity descends toward the translucent blue dome of the Gate Shield, falling toward it with incredible speed.

  The Gate Shield flickers, then vanishes.

  "Ampir!" Vera shouts.

  The behemoth's feet slam into the courtyard near the Great Tower, sending plumes of dirt high into the air. Its domed head turns, revealing a single diamond-shaped eye in the center, glowing an eerie, hazy green through the cloud of dust.

  "What the hell is that?" Vera asks.

  The thing – the Behemoth – stands perfectly still for a moment. Then its lone eye flashes. A beam of brilliant green light shoots outward from that eye, striking a building miles away. The building explodes, sending debris flying in all directions.

  Holy...

  The Behemoth's head spins 360 degrees, its ungodly beam slicing through the buildings surrounding the campus of the Great Tower. Entire city blocks disintegrate, debris flying high into the air over the city. The beam fades away, the Behemoth becoming still for a long moment.

  Then its head turns, its lone eye pointing right at the Tower.

  "It's going to attack the Tower!" Vera exclaims in horror.

  "Hold on," Ampir warns. "We're going up."

  With a thought, he feels himself become weightless, his metallic boots lifting off of the grass. He flies upward and forward, gaining speed gradually. The shoreline passes underneath them, the river's dark waters rippling below. He feels Vera stiffen.

  "What's wrong?"

  "It's starting to hurt," she confesses, putting a hand on her belly. "Bad."

  "Almost there baby," Ampir murmurs, increasing his speed. The wind howls around them, becoming higher-pitched as they accelerate toward the Tower...and the Behemoth in the distance. The monstrosity faces the Tower, the city burning all around it. Ampir clenches his jaw, the wind screaming around him as he blasts across the river toward the city. He's still too far away to attack the Behemoth...and the best surgeon in the city is in the Tower.

  Come on, he urges himself, pushing his armor to the limit.

  The Behemoth's diamond-shaped eye flashes.

  * * *

  Kyle yawned, rolling onto his side in bed, and immediately regretted it. Pain shot up his spine, and he nearly yelled, freezing in place. He opened his eyes, squinting against the bright rays of sunlight splayed across his bed. It took him a moment to remember where he was...and where he wasn't.

  It wasn't a dream, he thought, his heart sinking.

  He sighed, turning away from the window slowly. There was a fresh glass of tea on the dresser opposite the bed; he shimmied over to the edge of the bed, then swung his legs over, walking to the dresser and picking up the glass. He took one gulp – Kalibar had warned him against taking more – and set the glass back on the table. He barely recalled falling
asleep the night before; he'd had a gulp of the tea right beforehand. Surprisingly, he hadn't wet the bed...and for that, he was immensely grateful.

  He yawned again, then gingerly made his way out of his room, walking down the spiral staircase to the hallway below. He'd been instructed by one of Kalibar's attendants to come down here for breakfast. He opened the door at the end of the hallway and entered the large room he'd met Kalibar in the day before...then froze.

  The room was packed with people. The long table was surrounded by men and women, the polished tabletop covered in plates of steaming food. More people stood around the room, holding their plates of food while they ate and talked to one another. Some of them were clearly guards, but most were not. Kyle recognized a few of the farmers he'd seen during his walk with Kalibar yesterday.

  Kyle stood in the doorway, gripped by the sudden urge to go back to bed.

  "Hey kid," a voice said from his right. Kyle turned, spotting a tall man in silver armor leaning against the wall. The man's armor was smeared with dirt, but his face and hair were clean. He was quite handsome, and looked like he knew it. The man grinned at Kyle, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  "I'm Fintan," he greeted.

  "Hey," Kyle mumbled. "Uh, I'm Kyle."

  "You're that kid they found on the road," Fintan observed. He stepped away from the wall. "You holding the door for someone?"

  Kyle blinked, then realized he was still in the doorway.

  "Get in," Fintan urged, pulling Kyle into the room. He made a face, looking Kyle up and down. "Geez, when's the last time you ate, a week ago?"

  "Uh..."

  "What's the matter kid, you slow?" Fintan pressed. Kyle was about to reply, but Fintan clapped him on the back. Kyle bit back a scream, his spine exploding with pain. "Hey, relax, will ya?" Fintan admonished. "I'm just fooling with you." He walked toward the table in the center of the room, pulling Kyle with him. They maneuvered through the crowd until they reached the table, stopping before two women that were sitting and eating. Fintan let go of Kyle, putting a hand on each of the ladies' shoulders. "Good morning ladies," he greeted. They turned to look up at him, their expressions instantly souring.