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

by Clayton Wood

  “Step down from the vehicle!” the guard commanded angrily, a faint blue sphere appearing around him. Kyle's heart skipped a beat; was the guard talking to all of them, or just Darius? Before he could find out, Kalibar opened his door, stepping down to the ground below.

  “Good morning, officer,” he stated calmly. The guard turned his baleful glare on Kalibar, then jerked backward as if he'd been slapped. His face turned very pale, and he dropped to one knee before Kalibar, lowering his eyes to the ground. The blue sphere surrounding him vanished.

  “Forgive me, your Excellency,” the guard blurted. Kalibar walked up to the man, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  “You’ve done nothing needing forgiveness,” Kalibar replied. “Rise,” he added, and the guard instantly obeyed. Kalibar turned to regard Darius with a cold glare. "I have a high tolerance for many behaviors," he told the bodyguard. "But insolence is not among them.”

  Darius stopped in mid-bite, staring back at Kalibar silently. He gave a slight nod, then went back to eating his fruit. Kalibar turned back to the black-armored guard.

  “As you were.”

  “Your Excellency,” the officer murmured, bowing sharply. Then he turned and jogged back to the guard shack, waving and shouting excitedly at his fellow guards. The huge gate doors swung inward slowly, compelled by an invisible force. Kalibar stepped back into the carriage, sitting down beside Kyle and closing the door behind him. Darius snapped the reigns, and the horses took the carriage forward through the open gate. Kyle peered out of the rear window, seeing the gates closing behind them. Then he stole a glance at Kalibar.

  "What was that all about?" he asked.

  "You'll see soon enough," Kalibar replied wearily. He fell silent then, staring out of his window at the scenery beyond. Kyle did the same, seeing huge areas of well-manicured lawns decorated with bushes and shrubs, with the occasional tree here and there. He spotted a large red-brick building in the distance, six stories high. People walked to and fro from the building, some dressed all in black, like the guards. Others were dressed entirely in white.

  “Those are students,” Kalibar said before Kyle could ask. “The ones in white are Runic students, the ones in black, Weaver students. The officers at the gate were Battle-Weavers, members of the elite guard.” Kyle nodded. It made sense, after all...who better to guard a gate than a Weaver? That explained why the guard hadn't been carrying any weapons.

  The carriage led them on a winding path forward, and they passed more dormitories along the way. Then Kyle saw their destination – a tall tower in the distance, the same one he'd seen when they'd gone over the bridge. The one Kalibar had called the Great Tower. It was monstrous up close, its stone walls decorated with countless intricate carvings. The road led them straight toward massive double-doors at the Tower's entrance; above these doors was carved a three-story high relief of the Tower itself, a large, superficial crack cutting horizontally through the middle of the carving.

  Throngs of people in black and white uniforms spilled out of the double-doors of the Tower, flanking the road on either side of Kalibar's carriage. They pushed their way toward the carriage, each craning their necks for a view. A group of black-armored guards ran out of the double-doors, pushing the crowd back from the road, leaving it unobstructed. One guard walked up to Kalibar's door, opening it slowly. A collective gasp arose from the crowd, then a hush. Kalibar stepped out, turning to the crowd and waving.

  The crowd erupted into thunderous applause.

  Kalibar turned around, motioning for Kyle to come out of the carriage. Kyle froze, staring out into the crowd. There were hundreds of people out there now, some still screaming Kalibar's name. But Kalibar leaned into the carriage, extending his hand toward Kyle. Kyle hesitated, then took it, allowing himself to be pulled out of the carriage and onto the cobblestone road below. Kalibar put a hand on the small of his back, leading him forward toward the double-doors ahead. Though he kept his gaze glued on the road below, Kyle could still feel countless eyes watching him; he clung to Kalibar's side, feeling incredibly ill-at-ease. A half dozen guards in black armor formed a loose ring around them, escorting them through the double-doors and into the Tower. The doors closed behind them, leaving the crowd behind, and Kyle let a breath go that he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

  Then he lifted his gaze from the floor, and his jaw went slack.

  The room they'd entered was enormous, with granite walls rising three stories up to the ceiling above. Massive paintings hung on the walls, and thick stone columns rose from the polished granite floor to the ceiling. A large reception area stood before them, in the middle of the huge room, with impeccably-dressed men and women standing behind a long, semi-circular granite counter. Kalibar did not go to this; instead, he turned to one of the half-dozen guards still surrounding them.

  “I'd like to speak with Erasmus,” he stated. The guard nodded briskly, saluting, then sprinting away. Kyle watched him go, then turned to look up at Kalibar. The old man glanced at Kyle and smiled, putting an arm around Kyle's shoulders and holding him close. Kyle wrinkled his nose; after three days of travel, the old man smelled strongly of armpit. Kyle tried breathing through his mouth, a trick he'd learned from visiting nursing homes in the past. It helped a bit. He turned away from Kalibar, spotting a crowd forming around them...men and women in black or white uniforms stopping to stare. Luckily, the mere presence of the armored guards surrounding Kalibar and Kyle kept the crowd at bay. Kyle stared at the floor, profoundly uneasy with the sudden attention. Then he felt a bolt of panic, and checked his pants zipper discretely. It was in the upright position, much to his relief.

  “This is the Tower lobby,” Kalibar explained, gesturing at the huge room. Then he nudged Kyle, pointing up at the ceiling. Kyle looked upward; the ceiling was, he found, one giant mirror. People's reflections walked busily to and fro on the ceiling, upside-down, of course. Kyle arched his back, looking straight up, and searched for his own reflection. But he couldn’t find it.

  "Hey, I don't see us,” Kyle observed, turning to Kalibar. “Where are we?" Kalibar smirked.

  "We're down here," the old man replied. He pointed upward. "They're up there."

  Kyle frowned, looking upward again. Then realization struck; the ceiling wasn't a mirror at all...there were actual people standing upside-down on the ceiling! Kyle gasped, pointing upward.

  "Are they really...?"

  "Yes, they're standing on the ceiling," Kalibar confirmed. "Every floor in the Tower except the top three has a reverse-polarity ceiling. A magical field reverses gravity halfway up, making each floor a ceiling...and each ceiling a floor."

  "Whoa," Kyle said, hardly believing his eyes.

  "Even the stairways are two-sided,” Kalibar continued. "People come from all over the Empire to see the Great Tower at least once in their lifetime."

  Kyle stared at the ceiling, marveling at the sight. There were upside-down tables and chairs, and people sitting on upside-down couches. Upside-down candles flickered with upside-down flames. There was even a giant fountain in the center of the ceiling, with water shooting downward, then falling back upward, splashing into an upside-down pool.

  "Kalibar!" a voice shouted. Kyle looked down from the ceiling, spotting a short, older man in crisp white robes power-walking toward them. The man's smile was enormous...as was his pot-belly.

  “Kalibar, you old bastard!” the man exclaimed, grabbing Kalibar's hand and pumping it vigorously. Kalibar let go of Kyle and gave the man in white a big hug.

  “Erasmus!” he replied, finishing the embrace and holding Erasmus at arm's length. He gave Erasmus a big grin. “Where's the rest of your hair? You look terrible!"

  “And you smell terrible, you old bag!” Erasmus scoffed, an even bigger grin on his lips. He was mostly bald, with white hair at the temples. He had a big white bushy mustache and beard, and the top of his head was almost disturbingly shiny. "Still rotting away in Bellingham?” he asked. When Kalibar nodded, Erasmus rolled his
eyes. “Surprised you haven't died of boredom,” he muttered. "Heard it was the leading cause of death there." Then he noticed Kyle standing next to Kalibar, and his brow furrowed. “And who is this?”

  “This is Kyle,” Kalibar introduced, pulling Kyle close to his side again. “He's my great-nephew. Kyle, this is my good friend Erasmus.” Erasmus's bushy eyebrows rose, and he considered Kyle with merry blue eyes.

  “Good to meet you, Kyle,” Erasmus greeted, bending down and extending a hand. Kyle stepped forward and shook it. Erasmus turned to Kalibar with a wry smile. “I see he inherited your stench," he observed, letting go of Kyle's hand. Kyle blushed, squeezing his elbows to his sides to seal his armpits. “Now tell me, what can I do for you, Kalibar? Other than providing a shower, of course.”

  “I wanted to speak to you about something important,” Kalibar replied, his voice turning serious. “Somewhere private,” He added. Erasmus's smile vanished, and he nodded quickly.

  “Of course," he replied. "We'll go to my office at once.” Erasmus gestured for Kalibar to walk with him. Kalibar kept his iron grip on Kyle, and Kyle was forced to come with them. Erasmus paused at this, looking questioningly at Kalibar.

  “It's all right,” Kalibar stated. “He's part of it.” Erasmus's eyebrows rose, but he said nothing, continuing forward instead. The three walked across the lobby toward a long hallway on the other side, the black-armored guards following close behind. Here, as everywhere, there were carvings in the stone walls. Kyle studied them as they passed; these carvings were painted, and so skillfully made that they were nearly photorealistic. On one wall, groups of soldiers in black armor were carved in meticulous detail, facing a brave group of men and women in black and white robes, like the one that Erasmus wore. At the head of the black-armored soldiers, a man in black robes stood, a ball of fire in one hand.

  “So how have you been?” Kalibar asked Erasmus as they walked.

  “Oh, never better,” Erasmus replied jovially. “Damn elections have turned everyone into raving lunatics, as usual. Everyone's drawing lines in the sand, spewing fancy speeches, and declaring all the other candidates to be evil, plotting bastards. Which they are." He grinned impishly. "It's been a hell of a lot of fun!"

  "Can't say I miss it," Kalibar admitted. "I take it Orik is still the favorite for Grand Weaver?” Erasmus nodded, his expression souring.

  “The vainglorious bastard,” he spat. "He's going to win, of course." He gave Kalibar a sidelong glance. “Unless you've come to your senses...” Kalibar gave Erasmus a look.

  “No,” he replied. “My political days are over.” Erasmus gave Kalibar an exasperated look.

  “Kalibar the old recluse, pissing his life away in his quaint country manor,” he replied. “Limitless potential, and you hole yourself up in Bellingham, of all places!” Kalibar gave a tight smile, but said nothing. They reached the end of the hallway, and stepped onto a large stone platform, walking to the center of it. Then they all stopped...including the guards, who stood around them.

  “Orik will be delighted, of course,” Erasmus sighed. “You're the only man who could beat him, and he damn well knows it.” Again, Kalibar said nothing. He did shoot a warning glance at Kyle, who had been about to ask if it was the same Orik who'd tried to have Kalibar killed.

  “Erasmus is talking about the upcoming elections,” Kalibar explained. “The Secula Magna itself is small, but it is the political center of a vast empire. Its government is ruled by the Grand Weaver and Grand Runic, who act like equal kings. Every six years, an election is held to have a new Grand Runic and Weaver.”

  Erasmus frowned at Kyle. “You mean he doesn't know already? Are you so destitute now that you can't afford to send your own relatives to school?” Kyle felt his cheeks burning, but Kalibar only smiled, patting Kyle on the shoulder.

  “Kyle has gaps in his education, but he is quickly filling them,” Kalibar replied. “He's an able student.”

  Without warning, the platform they were standing on started to rise upward. Kyle tensed up, crouching low to the ground...and heard Erasmus chuckle. He stared upward, seeing a vertical shaft extending as far up as he could see. His stomach lurched as the platform accelerated rapidly, shooting upward at gut-wrenching speed. He grit his teeth, watching as the floors whizzed by in front of him. Unlike a real elevator, there were was no door to block his view of each floor. He felt a wave of nausea, saliva pooling in his mouth.

  Suddenly the platform slowed, making Kyle's stomach lurch again. It came to a quick stop, and Kyle staggered off of it as soon as it did so, reaching the safety of the hallway beyond. He heard more chuckling from behind, and turned around, seeing Erasmus and Kalibar exchanging bemused grins.

  “Never been on a riser before, eh?” Erasmus observed, his blue eyes twinkling. Kyle shook his head sheepishly. He didn't know what color red and green made, but he was pretty sure anyone looking at his cheeks would know!

  The two older men passed him by, walking down the hallway away from the platform – the riser – and motioning for Kyle to follow. He complied, following the two men – and the black-armored guards – down the long hallway. Like the hallway far below, there were carved murals on the walls. These were different, however. The carvings were of stern-looking older men, painted with muted colors. On the right, the men wore black clothes, on the left, white.

  “These are carvings of some of the former Grand Weavers and Grand Runics,” Kalibar explained. The carvings were intricately detailed, so much so that he half-expected them to come to life at any moment. At the end of the mural, the last two carvings stood. On the left was a man who looked an awful lot like Erasmus, but with more hair. On the right...

  Kyle slowed his pace, staring at the carving. It was of a handsome older man with short white hair and a trimmed goatee, dressed entirely in black. The man looked terribly familiar.

  He stopped in his tracks, a chill running through him.

  “Kalibar!” he blurted out.

  "A good likeness," Kalibar agreed. "But I think they did a better job on yours," he added, nodding at Erasmus. Erasmus snorted.

  "Mine looks like a bloated pig!" he retorted. Kalibar smirked.

  "Like I said..."

  "Wait," Kyle interrupted. "Why..." He gestured at Kalibar's statue. "What...?"

  “Erasmus and I governed the Empire together until about six years ago,” Kalibar stated matter-of-factly.

  “Governed my ass!" Erasmus interjected. "We ruled the most powerful nation in the world! Modernized the entire military, brought all the neighboring tribes under our rule, and nearly quadrupled our treasury...all in six years!”

  "That too," Kalibar conceded.

  “We were the most celebrated Grand Runic and Grand Weaver in the history of the new Empire," Erasmus continued heatedly. He gestured at Kalibar. "And this clown won't even consider a second term!”

  “We've talked about this,” Kalibar replied wearily.

  “If we ran for office together, no one could possibly beat us,” Erasmus insisted, clearly unable to help himself. “We could usher in a second Golden Era for the Empire!”

  “Erasmus, please,” Kalibar pleaded. Erasmus clenched his fists, biting his tongue. Then he sighed.

  “You're a stubborn old bastard," he grumbled.

  “That I am,” Kalibar agreed. "But I didn't come to talk about the election," he added. "I have something that I think you'll find even more intriguing."

  “Doubtful,” Erasmus retorted. Then he flashed Kalibar a mischievous grin. "I bet a few glasses of wine would change your mind," he wagered, rubbing his hands together eagerly. "I'll get you smashed and you'll wake up having won the election!"

  “Fat chance,” Kalibar retorted. "But you're welcome to try." The two men resumed walking down the hallway, and Kyle followed close behind. They passed several doors, stopping at the last door of the hallway, on the right. Kyle noticed that none of the doors had keyholes, or even doorknobs, including this one. Erasmus closed his eyes for a moment, an
d the door opened suddenly, without being touched.

  “Well, go on,” Erasmus urged, ushering Kalibar and Kyle into the room. The guards remained standing by either side of Erasmus's door. Kyle followed Kalibar through a short hallway that quickly opened up into a much larger room. It had stone walls and a polished granite floor, much like the lobby had, and majestic paintings hanging on the walls. A huge bookcase – extending all the way up to the ceiling some twelve feet above, and covering the entirety of one wall – stood before them, filled to the brim with books, crystals, small statues, and other odds and ends. And on the lowest shelf, nothing but a long row of bottles. Full suits of armor – including a set of black armor identical to the ones the guards wore – were mounted on another wall. Before the bookcase was a large wooden desk, its surface littered with papers, books, and various objects Kyle couldn't identify. Erasmus cleared these from his desk hurriedly, then pulled two chairs up to the desk, gesturing for Kalibar and Kyle to sit down.

  "Ah, just a minute," he stated, turning to face the bookcase. He grabbed a bottle and two glasses from the lowest shelf, uncorking the bottle and pouring red liquid into each glass. That done, he flopped into his own chair opposite them, handing Kalibar one glass while taking the other for himself.

  "To surprises," Erasmus proclaimed, raising his glass and tapping it against Kalibar's. "The few that we old men have left," he added, then took a sip of his drink. "Speaking of surprises," Erasmus said with a devilish grin, "...have you found yourself a scandalously young lady to settle down with yet?" Kalibar shook his head.

  "I'm too old for that sort of thing," he replied.

  "A man is never too old for that sort of thing," Erasmus retorted. "Think of it...you're rich and famous, in marvelous physical condition, and you still have your hair, lucky bastard that you are. You could have your pick...start a family, have a few kids..."