Spells of the Curtain Volume One

by Tim Niederriter

  “Where have you been?” he asked.

  Santh ignored him, faced Hyreki.

  “Lady Denyal, I’ve found them. They’re waiting by the western gate of the palace, clear as day on the street. The tree is with them.”

  “We don’t wish to draw undue attention,” said Hyreki. “Have the mercenaries keep an eye on them while we move closer. I have a feeling these Rooster Tribe folk will not have much success on their own if they attack.”

  “As you like...” Santh bowed low. “...my lady. I would have a word with Kiet if you allow.”

  “I will allow it,” she said with a smile at Ursar. “Don’t be too rude, either of you.”

  Hyreki put a hand on Santh’s shoulder. He held position while she continued past him into the house. She paused, still facing into the shadows. Her bare shoulders shone in the daylight, framed by strands of dark hair.

  “And don’t take long,” she said before she vanished from sight.

  “As you will,” said Santh, raising his head. He turned to Ursar.

  “What do you want?” asked Ursar, not trying to hide his scorn. “For a non-mage you have skills, I’ll grant, but in battle with a Saale your abilities won’t be of much use.”

  Santh walked to the balcony’s edge where Hyreki had been standing. He put his hands on the patterned wooden top of the railing.

  “Is that what you think? My good Dawkun, you are as blunt as your features.”

  “Not all of us can hide as well as you. Are you going to do more than insult my face?”

  “Kiet,” Santh said, “Lady Denyal and I have worked together on more than one occasion. We are a team—”

  “But not team mates,” said Ursar.

  “Not in that way, no.” Santh’s fingers curled around the wood of the railing. “But listen to me. We are kindred spirits in a way you and she can never be.”

  “How so? Neither you or I is royal, but I renounced the heritage of one. What of her? You call her my lady, but she seems anything but yours. Perhaps she is not titled either.”

  “Oh, she is most certainly royal. One of the highest of her tribe.”

  “What tribe is that? What is her tosh?” Ursar asked.

  “Some things are best seen, not simply told.”

  Ursar scoffed.

  “I doubt you have even seen her tosh, the way you deflect.”

  Santh shrugged.

  “Believe what you will. Belief does not create truth.”

  “Neither does boasting. Is there something else you wish to tell me?”

  “Not personally. But do what you can when you go along with Senei and Rewebb to scout ahead. After that, I will inform you of our next move.”

  “How will you find us once we’re separated?”

  “I can find you whenever I wish, never mind where.” Santh turned from the balcony. “You’d best be in motion soon.”

  “Will accept that order from Hyreki, not from you.”

  “Did I not put gold in your purse?”

  “At her command.”

  “At her command.” Santh smirked. “Finally, you make a little sense.” He walked inside without another glance at Ursar.

  Steaming with barely restrained inner flame, Ursar looked over the city another moment longer. He breathed deep, fighting to cool his fury. The man would know his foolishness. If Santh survived clashing with the Saales, Ursar could end him regardless. Such would be appropriate repayment for his insults.

  Ursar joined a woman with the limp and a wide-brimmed hat of dull yellow plains-grass just outside the door of the house. She adjusted her hat to shield her from the sun. Despite his lack of physical stature, she was a little shorter than him, and leaning slightly on her bamboo cane made her seem shorter still.

  “Senei,” Ursar said. “We’re to scout ahead. Where’s Rewebb?”

  She shrugged.

  “Where does a weed mouth go when the sun rises?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know.”

  “He likes the shadows. Bright lights tend to hurt a smoker’s eyes,” said Senei. “How rare is plains-weed in Roshi that you don’t know that?”

  “Rare enough in my order.” He turned to see a trickle of smoke drifting from the mouth of the alleyway behind the house. “I take it that’s him?”

  A man with short dark hair and a lean build stepped out of the alleyway, lowering a pipe from his smoking mouth. He wore only a cloak and trousers, displaying a toned physique and lean build. He grinned at Senei looking more a hungry wolf than a rooster, despite his tribe.

  “Right you are, Dawkun,” said Rewebb. “So they have us scouting, eh?”

  “Seems so,” said Senei, turning to Ursar. “Where about do they want us?”

  “The western gate of the palace. Be on the lookout for a tree that moves. And of course, keep your heads down.”

  Senei paled visibly.

  “Don’t worry, we’ve seen their kind before,” said Rewebb. “This time we have a real Dawkun on our side.”

  “I wish I could be more confident.” Senei indicated her crooked knee. “Trees that move are bad fortune for me.”

  “I’ll protect you,” said Rewebb. “Always do.”

  “Not always.” Senei turned to Ursar. “Let us go.”

  He nodded.

  “We’ll fan out. The Saales recognize me, but they don’t know either of you. Keep your weapons close in case we get a chance.”

  “We were told to scout, right?” said Rewebb.

  “I won’t hesitate to kill any of them if I get the chance,” said Ursar. “If you want a bonus you’ll do the same as me.”

  Senei shrugged.

  Rewebb grinned wider.

  “I like you better and better, man from Roshi.”

  They set off into the streets as more and more people began to emerge from houses along the thoroughfare.

  The western gate of the imperial palace stood high and bright with banners when Edmath and Surba rode Rakoi to it, closely followed by Brosk who was too heavy for the tree, in his whale tosh. Edmath balanced on Rakoi's branch and watched the low road leading down to the city’s harbor for Zuria.

  Birds called from the rooftops while people came and went below them. Edmath scarcely could remember the last time he'd watched a street so intently. Once, when he and Chelka were just beginning to meet outside of classes at Lexine Park, he had watched the small road leading into the village from Lexine Park, perched in the branches of a different orpus tree created by a different mage.

  That day she arrived early, though not as early as he. She approached along the path from the college, a shimmering shawl about her shoulders. She had glowed at the sight of him.

  Her warmth and her smile, remembered from their days as students, made him wish all the more she was here at this moment. How selfish she would think him if he fought alone once more. That, he would admit freely, was one reason he had decided to ask Zuria for help.

  Brosk glanced up at him from the street.

  "Do you see anything?" he asked.

  "Not yet."

  Edmath turned his gaze here and there, glimpsing a woman with a bamboo cane and a broad-brimmed grass hat haggling over a breakfast skewer with a cloaked shop owner, but no sign of Zuria. Edmath’s stomach rumbled, but he doubted he’d get a chance to eat anytime soon.

  A slithering form detached itself from a wall on the opposite side of the street. Surba's ears twitched.

  "Edmath," she said, pointing in the direction she looked with one paw. "Another Saale."

  A snake of human size slithered from the shadows of a set of buildings and crawled across the open space in front of the west gate. Edmath smiled broadly as he recognized his adoptive sister's serpent tosh by the pattern on the head and shining dark scales.

  "Good eye, Surba," he said.

  As Zuria approached the base of Rakoi's trunk, she took hybrid form, then human form in sequence, a quirk common to serpent royalty. Unlike many royals, they sometimes assumed interim forms between human
and hybrid. Few could manage the shape of a snake the way Zuria just had, however, and fewer still without losing their garments.

  Zuria straightened her trousers and adjusted her tunic. She called to Edmath.

  "Brother, I take it there is trouble about?"

  Brosk turned and saw her, jaw hanging open in surprise.

  "When did you arrive?"

  "Just now." Zuria smiled at Brosk. "One can't stay among diplomats and courtiers for so long without learning to avoid sight."

  Edmath grinned.

  "It's good to see you, sister. But we are in danger here. Let us go."

  "Go where?" asked Zuria.

  "There is a shrine north of here," said Edmath, "one managed by Hesiatic monks."

  "We'll explain on the way," said Brosk.

  "Let us go," said Rakoi. "I am nervous, Edmath."

  "Likewise," he said, "but Zuria, thank you for your speed."

  She sniffed.

  "As if I would miss a chance to help you after your winter adventure without me."

  Edmath stifled a laugh.

  "Thank you, sister."

  A mile north of the western gate on a narrow promontory jutting over the rest of the hill on which it stood, they approached the Hesiatic shrine surrounding the remains of Borueln. They left Rakoi and Surba in an alleyway below the point, then climbed the narrow way to gates of the shrine, three Saales together.

  Zuria gazed at the high peak of the central building where it jutted toward the sky.

  "Borueln was a great serpent," she said. "I'm sure his order will be of help."

  "My thoughts precisely," said Edmath. "Prescience was his greatest quality, according to the Chronicles of Tokalgo."

  Brosk nodded, solemn.

  "If we can determine the identity of your earlier attacker perhaps we can uncover the nature of Kiet's threat as well."

  Edmath shivered at the threats lurking in the city.

  "I do not know which is more fearsome, a Dawkun out for revenge or a man who could approach my garden undetected except by the keen senses of my rat friend."

  "I must say, your night gardening has given you an interesting new companion, brother."

  "My good sister, I take it you find her distasteful?"

  "More surprised she isn't another plant."

  "I can converse with any animal. It is only natural I befriend a few."

  Brosk lifted the door knocker between the bars on the gate and then let the heavy weight fall. It hit with a reverberating gong-sound.

  A woman with petrified torite bundles woven in her hair appeared at the window behind the bars.

  "Your business at this shrine, my good Saales?"

  "We request an augury," said Brosk. "If possible, we would ask the heart of Borueln himself."

  The Hesiatic nun opened the gate from the inside and let them inside.

  "I will show you to Abbess Ganeth. She will decide your worthiness."

  "Very well, and thank you good nun," said Brosk.

  The Abbess of Borueln's Shrine met them in a cloister where she sat meditating, legs folded in a peaceable position. She looked at them with calm blue eyes.

  "Young Saales, what brings you to our shrine?"

  The three of them bowed. Zuria nearly fell over she dipped so low.

  "We wish to learn the identity of a dangerous stranger," said Brosk. "This man attacked Saale Edmath Benisar last night."

  "A serious accusation carries real danger. I will gaze upon the heart with him." Ganeth closed her eyes, then methodically straightened her legs and stood. "Follow me, young man. Your friends will remain here."

  "As you wish, Abbess," said Zuria.

  Brosk bowed his head.

  Edmath followed the Abbess inside, then down a spiral staircase with a railing made from the backbone of a snake of seemingly infinite length. At the bottom, lit only by yellow candlelight, Edmath and the Abbess approached a tall box of polished ebony sitting on a stone altar, backed by dozens of candles encased in a variety of differently shaped glass boxes.

  "Within is his heart," said Ganeth. "Simply laying our hands upon the box will be enough to conduct the augury. Focus your mind, young man."

  Edmath extended his hands and put both palms against one side of the box. Ganeth did the same on the opposite side.

  "We bow our heads and close our bodily eyes and pray to the spirit of Borueln who reaches beyond our paltry senses. May his wisdom pervade us."

  Edmath did as she said, focusing his thoughts to reach beyond his body.

  "Sight and hearing. Taste and touch." Ganeth chanted the words over and over.

  Within the rhythm of her words, Edmath slipped into a trance, the core of hesiatic teaching. Images flickered before him, accompanied by other senses from outside of time. Sounds of the past, tastes of the future, and every sense and time in between seemed available to him. Borueln is a great spirit indeed, he thought.

  A warm, almost smug sensation reached him from somewhere beyond the parade of other senses. He suspected it was a response from the spirit himself. Edmath delved deeper into the sense memories Borueln presented before him.

  His mission was clear, present, powerful. He must reveal the name of his attacker. And with that thought, an image of a large, fierce man with his black mustache leaped into view.

  "Santh," a woman said, out of the vision's reach.

  "Lady Denyal," he replied. "What is your will?"

  "You did well to drive Benisar out, but the longer he evades us the more dangerous our mission becomes."

  "I understand, my lady."

  "I know you do. What I require is the tree, Santh. My master wishes to know how he shaped this being to gain powers that could rival his own."

  "Surely nothing the Zelians can achieve could threaten Master Kiniloth?"

  "He does not share your confidence, Santh. To be clear, neither do I."

  Then the vision ended. Edmath tried to return, but the Ganeth had ended her mantra, and the presence of Borueln had departed.

  "Did you see him?" asked the abbess.

  "I did, my good abbess. His name is Santh and he serves a woman he calls Lady Denyal."

  "You have your answer, young man. I am glad Borueln saw fit to help you."

  "I am grateful to you and to him," said Edmath.

  "As is proper." She lowered her hands from the box. "Let us return to the surface so we and your friends may plan what to do. These names you have heard are strangers to me, and I suspect, to this city."

  "They are not Zelian," he said as they started to climbed the stairs.

  "Roshi?"

  "Likely," he said, "but I do not know for certain."

  "Who else commands mages who can rival our Saales?" asked Ganeth.

  "I do not know any other," he said.

  They emerged into the light of the courtyard where Zuria and Brosk waited beneath a solitary tree, leaves deep green and branches in flower. Abbess Ganeth returned to her meditation nearby, folding her legs below her.

  "We have our answer," said Edmath. "The stranger is called Santh."

  "Any idea how he connects with Kiet?" asked Brosk.

  "A Lady Denyal is Santh's master. But she has a master of her own," said Edmath. "Someone named Kiniloth sent her to capture Rakoi."

  "From Roshi I take it?" Brosk scowled. "Such duplicity."

  "Perhaps not Roshi," said Zuria. "When I spoke with the high ministers a month ago they seemed determined to seek peace, at least for the moment."

  "There is another possibility," said Edmath.

  "What is that?" asked Brosk.

  "At Beliu the former Worm King told me of an enemy who exists beyond Zel and Roshi. My father and mother fought this foe, an enemy the Worm King thought a true threat to the empire."

  Zuria frowned.

  "And what is their nature?"

  "Our time was limited, but for now our true goal is to protect ourselves and this city from this malicious pair."

  "Indeed, and now it seems fool
ish to leave our young tree outside," said Brosk. "Let us hurry. I will go fetch Rakoi. You two can consider our next move. Then, we should leave this place together."

  "A clear plan for the moment," said Edmath. "We will be close behind you, Brosk."

  The sun crept toward its zenith as Brosk and Zuria made their way through the shrine’s small gardens after Brosk. They left Ganeth behind in the garden, though she offered to go with them. Edmath and Zuria refused. Hesiatic Saales tended to lack combat training.

  “Whoever this Santh is, he lacks magic of his own,” said Edmath. “Perhaps he is relying on Ursar or Hyreki for support on that count.”

  Zuria scowled.

  “Yet she seems confident to give him the lead. That is odd if he is the least dangerous of them.”

  Edmath folded his arms.

  “Odd wouldn’t begin to cover it. However, he is as quick as he is stealthy. I didn’t have time to strike when I encountered him last night.” He stifled a yawn. “Still tired from being up so late,” he said.

  “This is our situation then, brother,” said Zuria. “We have three real threats as I see it and an unknown number of lesser ones in the form of whatever mercenaries Hyreki can gather.”

  “You really think she’ll employ Zelians to attack us?”

  “If not Zelians, there are many travelers from Palatan and even further south in Diar, including from Roshi.”

  “A good point, sister.”

  They reached the front gate, but its doors stood closed. A lone figure stepped into their path. Edmath shuddered as he recognized the fierce mustache and cold eyes of Santh.

  “Speak a foe’s name and he appears,” Edmath muttered, slipping a striker over his finger.

  “Santh?” said Zuria, falling a step backward and sliding into a survival art stance.

  “Indeed,” said Edmath. “An inauspicious meeting.”

  Santh cracked his knuckles, meeting Edmath’s gaze. He made no move to draw any of his weapons, swords, daggers, even a coiled whip as his waist. Yet he carried them all openly. He showed no concern for being spotted, or for facing down two mages. He grinned and his hand moved to the hilt of a dagger at his waist.

  Zuria struck with her double ring. The curtain split and magic poured forth. Santh drew the dagger, it’s blade was of black metal but somehow shiny as a pearl. The magical current flowed directly toward Santh.