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

by Clayton Wood

  Another thunderclap rattled the carriage, and this time Kalibar jerked his gaze up from his book, noticing the rain for the first time. He closed his eyes for a moment, and suddenly the patter of rain on the carriage stopped. Kyle glanced out of the window, spotting a shimmering blue half-sphere hovering above the carriage like an ethereal umbrella. It moved with the carriage, rain pouring down its sides.

  "How did you do that?" Kyle asked. Kalibar glanced up at him, having already gone back to his book.

  "You'll learn soon enough," the old man replied, returning immediately to his book. Kyle turned away, taking the hint...Kalibar didn't want to be disturbed. He tried resting his head against the side window, but the road was far too bumpy. He sighed, resting his head back against the rear cushion, wishing that seatbelts had already been invented here. He imagined himself creating one, then selling it to everyone. There was no one to stop him from doing so, after all...and if he did, he would probably become rich. He could buy a mansion just like Kalibar's, and even have a butler to attend to all his needs, like Jenkins.

  More time passed, and the sky continued to darken, until it was so dark that Kalibar had to conjure up a small ball of light that floated above his head just to keep reading. The light cast stark shadows throughout the carriage, bathing the surrounding forest in a pale glow. Kalibar closed his book, the light above his head winking out. He leaned forward, sliding the small front window open.

  "Let's make camp," he shouted over the din of the storm. Darius waited a while, then steered the carriage off the path and into a large clearing in the forest, avoiding the occasional tree. The carriage bounced violently as they went off-road, rattling Kyle's bones and vividly reminding him of his injured back. Eventually Darius pulled on the reigns, and the horses came to a halt. Darius immediately dismounted, and Kalibar opened the door on his side, stepping outside. Kyle paused, then did the same, his boots sinking into the muddy ground. He grimaced, taking a step forward, the muck sucking stubbornly at his feet. While Darius tied the horses to a nearby tree, Kalibar used his staff to create a large shimmering hemisphere over the clearing, deflecting the rain. Then he walked – or rather, levitated a few inches above the mud – to the rear of the carriage, opening the trunk. He pulled out a large, pale yellow stick with a few closed buds jutting out of its sides – the same stick he'd used before, on their way to Stridon. Kalibar handed the stick to Darius, who went to the edge of the sphere, and scooped a hole in the mud with his hands. The hole filled up almost instantaneously with water. Darius ignored this, and passed the stick over the hole. The water jumped up to the stick like nails to a magnet, surrounding it. Then Darius jammed the stick into the hole, packing mud onto the base of the stick. Almost immediately, the parts of the stick where the bark had worn off started to glow a soft green color.

  "What is that?" Kyle asked.

  “A branch from a mummy tree," Kalibar answered. Kyle stared at the branch, watching as the green glow pulsated in the darkness.

  "What does it do?"

  "It attracts water to itself," Kalibar replied. "It pulls it out of the ground, and even out of the air around it, ensuring a constant supply for itself."

  "So why is it called a 'mummy' tree?" Kyle pressed.

  "Well, some cultures take their dead and rest them near a tree," Kalibar explained. "The tree extracts all of the water from the bodies."

  "Turning them into mummies," Kyle reasoned. "Got it." He eyed the glowing branch warily, taking a few steps back from it. Kalibar chuckled.

  "Don't worry," he reassured. "We'll sleep far enough away from it. We'll all be a little thirsty tomorrow though."

  "What's it for?" Kyle asked. After all, if they were going to use the levitating sleeping bags again, there was no point in drying out the ground.

  "I may be able to levitate back to the carriage tomorrow," Kalibar replied. "But you and Darius can't." He smirked. "I don't need mud in my carriage."

  "Oh."

  Darius distributed their levitating sleeping bags, and Kyle towed his as close to the edge of the magical shield as he could...and as far away from the mummy tree branch at the opposite end of the dome. There was a definite breeze here, sucking inward toward the shield's translucent blue surface. Kyle stared at it, then reached up with one hand, touching the shield.

  "Wait! Don't..." Kalibar cried.

  Kyle's fingertips touched the shield's curved surface, and suddenly his hand was yanked forward. The rest of his body followed, sucked into the powerful shield. He flew right through it, hurtling forward through the air. He barely had time to cry out before he slammed belly-first into the mud, the air bursting from his lungs. He pushed himself upward onto his knees, grimacing in disgust. The entire front of his body was covered in mud, cold rain drenching his hair and clothes.

  Kalibar took one look at him, and burst out into laughter.

  Kyle lowered his gaze, staring helplessly at his soiled clothes, flicking mud off of his hands. His cheeks burned something fierce, which only made Kalibar laugh even more. Even Darius was smirking. Kyle sighed, ignoring the two and slogging back to the edge of the shield, his clothes heavy with muck. He stopped before the shield, then hesitated. He lifted his hand up to it, brushing the surface with his fingers. His hand was thrown backward instantly, spinning him around and tossing him back into the mud.

  For the love of...!

  Kalibar was laughing so hard he was wheezing now, and broke into a fit of coughing. Kyle staggered to his feet again, cursing under his breath. Kalibar tried desperately to compose himself, staring at Kyle with a grave expression. Then his lips started to quiver, and he burst into laughter again.

  "Ha, ha, ha," Kyle grumbled, putting his hands on his hips. Rain coursed down his body, slowly rinsing off the mud on his clothes. Kalibar tried to compose himself again, and succeeded this time. He lifted his staff from where it was embedded in the ground, and the shield lifted from the ground with it. Kyle ducked underneath it, and Kalibar returned the staff back to where it had been.

  "Here," Kalibar offered, gesturing at the mummy tree branch. "Stand near it for a bit so you can dry off. Then Darius can get you a new set of clothes."

  Kyle complied, trudging up to the mummy tree branch. To his surprise, the ground around it was completely dry and hardened. He peeled off his boots, his shirt, and his pants, standing there in his underwear feeling ridiculous...and terribly exposed.

  "Sorry about that," Kalibar apologized, walking up to Kyle and putting a hand on his bare back. "This shield pulls air outward, pushing the rain away," he explained. "Air comes back in through the few inches between the ground and the shield," he added. "If you touch it, it'll...well, you know."

  "Thanks," Kyle muttered, hugging himself. The air was chilly, his skin covered in goosebumps. Kalibar concentrated, and suddenly the air was much warmer.

  "Consider this your first lesson in magic," Kalibar stated with a grin, patting Kyle on the back. "Every application has consequences...and sometimes the best way to learn of them is to experience them." The old man turned away from Kyle then, grabbed a folded pile of clothes from Darius and handing them to Kyle. Kyle took them, dressing quickly.

  "Let's go to bed," Kalibar stated. He sat down on his levitating sleeping bag, then laid down on it. Darius did the same, and Kyle put on his boots, trudging back to his sleeping bag. He towed it a few feet from the shield's edge, then laid down, snuggling in the warm softness. It wasn't long before the sting of his shame gave way to the comfort of his sleeping bag. Sleep beckoned for him, pulling him downward into its otherworldly embrace. He gave in readily, and within moments fell fast asleep.

  Chapter 10

  Ampir races above the Great River, the wind screaming in his ears. The black-cloaked Weavers fly after him, closing the distance between them steadily. There is only so fast Ampir can fly with Vera and Junior; alone, the Weavers would never have been able to catch him.

  Ampir sees the Weavers in the rear-view section of his visor, in the perip
hery of his vision. A burst of red light shoots from one of the Weavers toward him. Ampir veers to the left and downward, mere feet from the surface of the river, and the missile soars past him. Ampir spins around in mid-air, facing the fast-approaching Weavers. He pulls magic into his mind's eye, seeing threads of power appear at the edges of his vision. He wills the threads into a tight knot, then throws it outward. A ball of blue light shoots outward toward the Weavers, growing rapidly. The Weavers are sucked into the sphere, as is water from the river, forming a ball of water just above the river's surface. Without warning, the water flash-freezes, trapping the Weavers in ice...and instantly killing them.

  Ampir spots two more airships converging above him, Weavers leaping out from the sides of the ships and zooming down toward him.

  Damn.

  He could take them down, but more would come. There was a chance – admittedly small – that the enemy didn't know who they were dealing with. The more attention he drew to himself, the more likely they would find out...and send an army to stop him.

  They won't be able to stop me, he knows. But they can slow me down.

  He turns forward, facing the cliffside in the distance, still miles away. The exit for the evacuation tunnels is there...and will lead him under the Great River, to the center of the city...and Renval's teleporter.

  "Ampir," he hears Vera shout, feels her hand on his chest. He glances down at her, then follows her gaze to the center of the city. The Behemoth stands there, its legs hidden in the massive cloud of dust and smoke left by the fallen Tower. As Ampir watches, the Behemoth's head rotates, its diamond-shaped eye turning toward him.

  "Well shit," Ampir swears.

  The Behemoth faces him, tracking him as he hurtles over the river.

  Then its eye flashes.

  * * *

  Kyle opened his eyes, the pale blue sky greeting him. He rubbed his eyes, which were crusted over and itchy, then yawned and rolled onto his side in his sleeping bag. His mouth was terribly dry; he licked his dry, cracked lips, then looked about, spotting Darius and Kalibar still sleeping in their levitating sleeping bags. It took him a moment to remember where he was...and why he was so thirsty.

  The mummy tree, he thought, turning to look at the branch. It was still glowing a faint green, the ground around it...indeed, the ground around the entire camp...completely dry. Kyle slipped his legs out of his sleeping bag, dangling them over the edge.

  "Good morning," he heard Kalibar greet. He turned to Kalibar, who was sitting upright in his own sleeping bag. The former Grand Weaver yawned, stretching just like Kyle had moments ago. He glanced up at the sky, then lowered his gaze to Kyle. "You're up early,” he observed.

  "I had another nightmare," Kyle admitted.

  "I see," Kalibar replied. "Tell me about it."

  Kyle did so, recounting the dream. Kalibar listened silently but intently, in that comforting way he had, until Kyle was finished. Then he ran a hand through his short white hair, staring off into space for a while.

  "What are you thinking?" Kyle asked.

  "The woman," Kalibar prompted. "Describe her."

  Kyle blushed, remembering the way the woman's thin white gown had clung to her body. Kalibar arched an eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"

  "Uh, no," Kyle mumbled. "She, uh..."

  "Yes?"

  "She was, um, pretty," he stated, his cheeks turning red-hot. As hot as Desiree had been back home, she couldn't hold a candle to the woman in his dreams.

  "I see," he replied. "Well then, describe the man...the woman's husband."

  "Well, it's more like it's me,” Kyle admitted. “Or I mean, I'm him in the dreams.” He shook his head. "I did something weird this time," he added. "I mean, he did."

  "Explain."

  "Well, I sort of looked inside my own head," Kyle replied, recalling that strange sensation of manipulating threads of power in his mind's eye. "Then I...I don't know, I pulled this like, thread or something with my mind." He described how he'd twisted it into a tight knot, then thrown it outward. When he'd finished, he realized that Kalibar was staring at him, his mouth agape. "What?" Kyle asked.

  “Incredible,” Kalibar breathed. "I don't believe it!" Kyle spotted Darius shifting in his sleeping bag, turning about to glare at Kyle and Kalibar with his piercing blue eyes. Then he rolled away from them, pulling the sleeping bag over his head.

  “What?” Kyle repeated.

  "Well, that sensation – pulling energy into your mind and twisting it – is exactly what Weavers do to use magic," Kalibar explained.

  "Oh," Kyle replied. "Really?"

  "Really," Kalibar confirmed. He stood up, slipping into his boots. He began to pace then, tapping his chin with one finger as he did so. "I was too distracted back in the Tower," he mumbled.

  "What do you mean?" Kyle asked.

  "When you first told me about your dreams," Kalibar replied. "I was so distracted by the need to escape that I forgot all about them." He shook his head. "It's clear that they're much more than simple dreams."

  "Tell me about it," Kyle grumbled.

  "In fact," Kalibar continued, pacing back and forth, "...I don't think they're dreams at all."

  "Huh?"

  "Hear me out," Kalibar urged, continuing to pace. "Remember the Ancients...how Stridon fell during the Great War?" Kyle nodded. "Well, your dreams...the Tower being attacked by the...what was it?"

  "The Behemoth."

  "Right," Kalibar said. "The Tower being destroyed...it's all consistent with what we know happened to the Ancients two thousand years ago."

  "Wait," Kyle interjected. "You're saying that my dreams really happened?"

  "I'm saying they're not dreams at all," Kalibar countered. "They're memories."

  Kyle just stared at the man blankly.

  "It's the only explanation," Kalibar concluded. "You began dreaming of the Ancients and the Great War before you even came here," he added. Then he stopped pacing, turning to Kyle. "When exactly did you start having these dreams?"

  “A few weeks ago."

  “How many weeks exactly?” Kalibar pressed. Kyle frowned, mulling it over. He knew that he'd been having them for at least two or three weeks...

  “My birthday,” Kyle exclaimed. “Three weeks ago...it was on my birthday!”

  "Good," Kalibar replied. "And what happened that day? What did you do?"

  “I went to school, and then I came home," he answered. "I had dinner, then cake. Then I opened my presents, and watched a movie, then went to bed.” Kyle paused, trying to think if there had been anything else that had happened that day, but couldn't think of anything. “And then I had the nightmare."

  "Hmm," Kalibar murmured. "What presents did you get?"

  "Some money," Kyle replied. "And..." He glanced down at his left thumb, flexing it. Suddenly it all made sense. "My ring!"

  "Pardon me?"

  "My ring," Kyle repeated. "It was my dad's...he gave it to me for my birthday." Kalibar's eyes widened, and he snapped his fingers.

  "Of course!" he exclaimed. "The ring!"

  Darius rolled over in his sleeping bag, glaring at the two of them. Kalibar didn't even notice.

  "I don't know why I didn't think of it earlier," Kalibar continued excitedly. "Your ring is clearly too advanced to have been made recently...it must have been made by the Ancients." He tapped his chin. "What if whoever made it stored his memories inside of it?"

  "You mean the man from my dreams?"

  "Exactly," Kalibar replied. He stopped pacing. "What was the man's name again?"

  "Um..." Kyle began, frowning. He remembered every detail of his dreams, but for some reason, he couldn't remember the man's name. "I can't remember."

  Kalibar's shoulders slumped a bit, but he waved the question away.

  “Don't worry about it,” the former Grand Weaver stated. “Memories are like women; the harder you try to hold on to them, the farther you push them away. When you ignore them, they come for you with a vengeance.”

 
“Huh?”

  "Never mind," Kalibar replied. "You say the man wore a suit of armor?"

  "Yeah," Kyle confirmed. He described the armor to Kalibar, with its blue runes and magical visor. Kalibar's eyebrows rose.

  "That's Battle-Runic armor," he exclaimed, clearly surprised. Kyle stared at him blankly. "Battle-Runics were Runics who created their own weapons and suits of armor, and fought alongside Weavers in the military during Ancient times," Kalibar explained. "There were only a handful that existed during the Great War, three that we know of." He shook his head. "There haven't been any since...not really."

  Kyle heard a thunk, and saw Darius lowering himself to the ground from his levitating sleeping bag. The bodyguard had apparently slept in his armor. Darius turned to Kalibar.

  "We're burning daylight," he grumbled. "You want to go on foot from here or take the carriage to the end of the path?"

  "Hmm?" Kalibar replied, turning to the bodyguard. "Ah yes. We'll go on foot from here. If someone is following our route, they'll expect us to leave the carriage at the end of the path." He walked up to his staff, grabbing it. The magical domed shield around them vanished instantly. "I'll fly the carriage overhead."