Spells of the Curtain Volume One

by Tim Niederriter

  "You're there master," said Edmath. "You rule all these monsters?"

  "Hardly, boy. I am a seer. But without me, the packs would have no memory of who they once were."

  Ninafi scowled.

  "Those monsters used to be human."

  "Not many of the ones still living—that is only the other grafters and me. My people pass down our curse to our young with every generation. Perhaps one day they could claim humanity again, and I will be there to see it."

  "How?" said Edmath. "You speak as if you're centuries old."

  "More than centuries, boy. But I'm glad you're here."

  "Why?" asked Edmath.

  "Have you any idea of how dull stewarding these degenerates has become after a thousand years?" Durine shifted, his coils crawling around the stone cylinder. "I am ready to surrender to the High Emperor even if the pack leaders are not."

  "To the High Emperor?" said Edmath. "You mean?"

  "My heritage is warped, but our resistance is no longer recognized. There was a time near the beginning when Sayl sent warriors against us at the behest of Zel and Zel's sphere of humanity. No more. We are forgotten."

  "Is that why you sent Fyon to raid the village of Gathat?" asked Ninafi.

  "I do not control Fyon," said Durine. "He goes where he will, but he never told me he was attacking human settlements. Though he should have."

  "So, Durine," said Edmath. "You are clearly a mage as well. Are you the one who pulled us underground?"

  "Indeed, boy. I opened the tear and held it above to draw the Hierophant's eye. I wanted your kind to return to end this long occupation."

  Edmath took a step forward.

  “Occupation?"

  "The packs are at war across this forest. It is a thankless task to try to gather them or advise them. I am old, but I would see Diar once more before I give my land to the High Emperor and the three."

  "You are forgotten," said Ninafi. "The forest is mostly unsettled."

  "By humans, yes," said Durine. "But my people still remain. We are strong in the trees and more numerous than even I truly know. If you will return me to Diar I will offer my service and that of my people to the emperors of Zel."

  "Human shaping is prohibited in this age," said Edmath.

  "Good!" Durine shook his head. "I wish I had known the price I would pay before I made my transformation. Believe me, servant of Sayl, I am no enemy to order."

  "Say we believe you," said Edmath. "Show us some goodwill and release us to the surface."

  "Promise you'll take me with you," said Durine.

  "If you'll answer our questions," said Edmath. "I promise."

  "Then we have a deal," said Durine. He hunched his wolf-like upper body upward, human hands where the strange legs ended. He scuttled off the stone cylinder on his many centipede legs.

  The ceiling of the tunnel behind them parted behind Edmath and Ninafi, revealing Chelka and Brosk on the surface.

  "Ed!" Chelka called. "What happened?"

  "I'll explain once we're all above ground, my dear. There is a lot to say, it would seem."

  "That's an understatement." Brosk stared at Durine as the monstrous seer came into view.

  "I am your new traveling companion for the moment, servants of Sayl. Call me Durine of the shadows."

  The fear around Tulagoda faded a little but Edmath felt as uneasy as Kana, Obbin, and most of the others looked when they first saw Durine. Nevertheless, eleven of them gathered their steeds and rode for Gathat. He did not like dealing with the monstrous creature, the exiled hybrid suneater, but Edmath saw a similarity in the ancient Durine and the High Emperor. Not to mention, if Durine was a thousand or more years old his existence had to be made known to the rest of the world.

  Durine’s many legs kept pace with the elk at their traveling pace. One day left to Gathat and the seaside they made camp. Then the howling began in the distance. The party drew up, gathering into a defense circle.

  Durine said, "It is Fyon's pack. An old grafter's rivalry of ours. He won't want me to leave these woods."

  "We can fight him depending on his numbers," said Chelka.

  Durine coiled his centipedal length where it extended from where the back half of his wolf-body would have been on a natural animal.

  "He has the numbers. Durine's pack is known for fertility."

  "We must have killed a hundred at the village before they fled," said Ninafi.

  Durine sighed. "He will have gathered at least twice that many."

  Kana glanced nervously at Brosk, a curse on her lips.

  Edmath scowled.

  "You say you have power here, Durine. Perhaps we can negotiate?"

  "Fyon may bargain with me if he has no grudge with any of you."

  Chelka's face flushed.

  "Something tells me he holds a grudge against me."

  "What happened in your previous battle?"

  "I burned his wings while he fled." Chelka shifted, then tightened her grip on her stethian. "But if it comes to that I can finish him myself, then we can negotiate with his second."

  "Alas," said Durine. "Fyon is one of the oldest grafters besides me, and by far the oldest pack leader. His people will not suffer his loss well."

  "His people," Edmath said. "Can we sway them instead?"

  "We may try. But as long as Fyon leads them, his grudge must be dealt with."

  The sound of racing paws and feet announced the arrival of Fyon's pack on every side. The man merged with his wolf body, though now wingless, prowled into view before Edmath and the others.

  "Durine Suneater," said the human mouth on Fyon's back. "Where are you going after all these decades?"

  "I've grown weary of our past with the empire. I think its time we ask forgiveness and end this conflict with the three."

  Fyon snorted. Steam issued from his wolf mouth.

  "The three are gone. And here, there is no war, only us."

  "Indeed," said Durine. "But we could prosper more in the imperial fold. I have seen their great cities, their palaces."

  "They curse us as monsters."

  "Yet the enchieli still stand guard for their highest emperor. Be still, Fyon. I would offer my service in exchange for a betterment for all the packs. Our tribes left us long ago. Would you not feel better to gain true royal powers as a king of the Wolf Tribe?"

  "I have gained far more power from grafting," said Fyon, "Than any human mage or king." He sat back on his wolf-haunches. Human legs extended from wolf's rear and he stood, massively tall over two yards high, and turned to face them human face to human faces. "As you can see I can walk among men and women as easily as our children. I can leave this land whenever I choose, but you may not."

  "Insolent as always," Durine said dryly. "But listen to me, Fyon. We can both get what we wish if you are willing to let me pass."

  "You have been there my whole life, Durine," said Fyon. "And I know your wisdom well. However, I cannot trust you to leave while that squid princess stands at your side. She burned a graft I took twelve years to perfect."

  "You can make another set of wings," said Durine. "In fact, I'm certain you already have."

  "Correct," said Fyon. "For my honor, I ask you one favor in exchange for letting you pass. Give me a duel with the woman."

  Chelka stiffened beside Edmath. She stared at Fyon.

  "It won't end the way you think," she said.

  "I'll have you or you will all perish," said Fyon. "Even you, Suneater."

  "You know I despise that title," said Durine. "But I see no other choice. One condition if you yield, Fyon."

  Fyon loomed over them, seeming larger than even a man and wolf combined should.

  "I will hear you."

  "If she bests you, you will never call me Suneater again."

  "Very well. Suneater."

  Chelka

  She weighed her stethian in one hand, then gave it to Edmath to hold. The weapon was a useful tool, but one she could not use if she wanted to win without killin
g Fyon. How to compensate for his great speed? Surely on two legs, he must be at least as nimble as on four, or he would not be sizing her up from that position.

  "I'm waiting," he said with a smug look on one face and a snarl on the other.

  She grimaced as she took two strikers in each hand and slipped them over her fingers. She faced him full on.

  "I'm ready," she said.

  Edmath put a hand on Chelka's shoulder, warming her skin.

  "He knows your fire." He leaned close and whispered. "Surprise him."

  She nodded, then stepped forward into a wide circle formed by hybrids grafted creatures and her party. Fyon paced the opposite side. She circled with him, swiftly opening small tears with her rings as she moved. She gathered magic as he gathered his nerve.

  He called himself a grafter. But what could a man without magical defenses do against her signs? Yet he had avoided her light before. She must take care.

  He advanced a few paces, then lunged toward her. Chelka channeled a burst of fire to cut across the roadway, chemical fuel burning in a line across the thrice-lain stones, forming a barrier he would have to circle or leap over to reach her. He retreated a step.

  She shaped the burning life forms at the base of the line, making the fire bend like a truly living serpent. Rather than her usual bursts of lethal light, she used the organic side of her powers to protect herself as she edged closer to Fyon.

  "Clever and new." He snorted in the crisp air. "But futile, fire mage." Fyon fell to his wolf limbs and swiped at the base of her fiery wall with one paw.

  Was he insane? His fur would catch. He would burn and die.

  But the fur did not catch. He withdrew his paw carrying a tongue of fire atop the fur, but not burning at all himself.

  Chelka stepped back from the heat of the burning line.

  "How?"

  "You can manipulate these animals to burn," said Fyon. "But it’s not difficult to graft them to me. Now this fire is mine." He smiled with his human face. "Now we will have a real battle, you and I."

  His other paws lashed out, catching more flames on them. The small life forms burned without harming him. As Chelka's flames diminished, Fyon's grew.

  She stepped sideways and shot a gout of light over his head. The convection would hurt him even if the creatures could not make contact. He darted out of the way, then lunged through her firewall, staying low. His fur burned here and there, but mostly he took the fire and made it his own.

  He raced toward Chelka, dodging more bolts of light and heat. Chelka could no longer control the burning creatures he had stolen directly. As he closed with her again, he leered.

  "It'll be a shame to cook that pretty face," he said. "Yield and I will simply break your neck."

  "This battle is not to the death."

  "I will tell you when the fight is over. If you survive," said Fyon with a grin and a snarl.

  Chelka still carried plenty of magic, but she lacked the spell to hurt him within her own repertoire. He seized directed fire and dodged the rest. If only they weren't fighting in stone. The fire he'd stolen would catch plants ablaze and he would be doomed.

  Time to learn something from Edmath's skills.

  She closed her eyes to focus as Fyon drew closer step by step. He had slowed his pace, probably to allow him a chance to dodge if she tried to burn him again. She felt his breath against her face, hot and disgusting as she made an improvised sign, focusing on the grass alongside the road behind her. It grew.

  The plant life crept by her ankles, tickling her. She smiled, then laughed. Fyon drew back but not fast enough. The flames on his paws had already ignited the grass Chelka coaxed from the roadside. He screamed as sparks leapt onto his fur and set him ablaze.

  Chelka kicked his wolf-body in the chest and he staggered back, rolling and beating at the spreading flames.

  "Who says when the battle is over?" Chelka asked.

  Fyon glared at her with eyes full of pain and anger, reflecting spreading fire.

  "Save my life! I will yield."

  "This I promise you," said Chelka. "Your life will be safe if you surrender now."

  He yelped and slapped his now-burning tail against stone.

  "Give me mercy. I yield, servant of Sayl."

  She smirked. Brosk stepped forward. His liquid-spreading creatures doused Fyon an instant later. The grafter lay twitching in pain on the road. His pack stood hushed.

  Edmath ran to Chelka's side.

  "You surprised him alright. And me."

  "You're not the only Saale who pays attention to others, Ed."

  "I'm glad I'm not." He laughed.

  Durine stepped forward, standing over the trembling, smoking form of Fyon.

  "You're lucky you lost, old friend, old enemy. Soon, you will be a king."

  Waves sent their spray skyward as the levoth pushed from land and turned to move out to sea. In the distance, gulls circled over the sea calling to each other in loud voices, asking each other where their prey lurked beneath the surface. Edmath watched and listened from the levoth's bony back where he usually camped for travel.

  The controller stood on the frog-whale's head, guiding him as he turned to traverse deeper water. The roosters were below along with Brosk. Ninafi had chosen to go to Diar with them, to ensure Durine's safety on the journey. Edmath was partly glad she had decided to go south and partly worried she would not find the imperial city as accommodating as it had been for him. Durine crawled to a place beside the controller and gazed out at the sea. That creature, the great mystery they had recovered from beneath Tulagoda was hardly what Edmath had expected.

  In some ways, the ancient grafter's powers and knowledge seemed marvelous and carried obvious uses. If one could combine a human partially with an animal one could control the animal directly, even without being of the same tribe. Could one graft together with a tree or other plants? It seemed likely.

  Edmath set his head against the ridge around the side of the levoth's deck. Chelka approached him.

  "It's going to be dangerous, you know," she said. "Opening up forgotten history to discover lost lore."

  "I know," he said. "but I'm glad we're able to go forward together."

  She nodded.

  "We need a trump card against mages like Hyreki, not to mention those from Roshi."

  Their eyes moved together to look at Durine.

  "You think he's it?" asked Edmath.

  "If not him, something he can teach us." Chelka sighed. "We will know more when the high emperor reacts to him."

  "Indeed," said Edmath. "We still have much to learn."

  Saale. Grafter. Dawkun. Mages of unknown power. Edmath shook his head. He would learn what he could. He would go forward for the empire and for Chelka and his friends. He owed everyone that much. He would see tomorrow.

  Author’s Note

  Thanks for reading these first five stories in the Spells of the Curtain series. The tale continues in book six, “Fire Mage,” now available at the link below.

  https://www.amazon.com/Spells-Curtain-Fire-Tim-Niederriter-ebook/dp/B07L19YVDG

  Thanks for reading.

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  I'm Tim Niederriter.

  As you've no doubt gathered, I write books of science fiction, fantasy, and combinations of the two for fun and novelty.

  I'm the son of two physicists from Pennsylvania, transplanted to Minnesota. My parents read me the Hobbit (repeatedly) at a young age. The math adds up. I love both far-flung science fiction and epic fantasy of all kinds.

  Diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder at a young age, I've always surrounded myself with fictional worlds. I studied writing and literature at Gustavus Adolphus College and have a strong interest in history and politics as well.

  I co-host the roleplaying game podcast "Of Mooks and Monsters" and talk with other authors each week on my podcast for readers and writers, "Alive
After Reading.”