Nexus Moons: Book One of the Tales of Graal

by Ron Root

  “If I want a cockalorum’s opinion, I’ll ask for it.”

  They eventually skirted the canyon—albeit, after losing precious time. Their alternate route wasn’t significantly better. Endless ravines forced a serpentine path over rough, rocky terrain. Boulders were everywhere, one even breaking a linchpin. Fortunately, the wagon carried a spare, and after yet another delay, they were able to press on.

  Jutting rock formations dotted the landscape, slowing progress. Worse, the skies were darkening and moons rising. Juno had crested the horizon, well on her way to joining Ceres and Minerva. Their convergence would trigger the Nexus. They needed to hurry.

  Around dusk they reached the coastline. “Praise the gods, we’re here,” Lavan shouted, hopping off the wagon, surveying the surroundings. Jarek joined him.

  They were atop a bluff overlooking the sea, the crashing surf audible despite being far below them. Dark, windy and foreboding, the place appeared lifeless. A waft of brine and prairie sage assailed Jarek’s senses. Despite it being early summer, the night had the crispness of autumn, and a deepening mist threatened to block their view of the emerging moons.

  Fighting the buffeting winds, Jarek walked to cliff’s edge and dared a peek. His head spun. The dizzying drop spelled sure death. How he hated heights. An icy gust caused him to lose his balance. He fell to his knees, grasping rocks, soil, even grass, desperate for any handhold. Heart racing, he crept back from the ledge.

  “There!” Lavan shouted, pointing toward an arch that bridged the gap between two nearby cliffs. “Quickly Goodricke, calculate where it will focus.”

  Scurrying to the back of the wagon, Goodricke retrieved his tritant. Roughly the size of a crossbow, he placed in on the wagon seat and aimed it skyward. Sighting something of interest, he began adjusting dials and levers. After repeating this process several times, he pointed. “There, about fifty cubits beyond where you stand.”

  Lavan scoured the area. “Jarek, look,” he said pointing. “On the far side of that archway, nestled in those shadows. It’s the only possibility.”

  Squinting, Jarek looked. “All I see is a rocky cliff.”

  “There, just below Juno. A cave! It’s the only thing within fifty paces, so it has to be the nexus point.”

  Jarek still couldn’t see what Lavan did, but his night vision had never been good.

  “Come, we haven’t much time,” Lavan urged, hustling back to the wagon. Grabbing a pair of knapsacks, he slung one over his shoulder, and handed the other to Jarek. “Let’s get to that cave.”

  They’d have to cross the archway to reach it. The thought of doing so had Jarek’s head spinning. “I’m not good with heights. Perhaps I should stay with Goodricke.”

  “Nonsense!” Lavan barked, stepping onto the arch, edging his way across. “Come on,” he insisted, motioning Jarek to follow. “You know as well as I do, you’re too curious to stay behind.”

  His friend knew him well. After a day of anticipation, there was no way he’d miss this Nexus, especially after coming all this way. Taking a deep breath, he eased his way onto the archway, careful to avoid any downward glance. “If I fall to my death, may my ghost come back to haunt you.”

  “Ghosts, bah! Who believes in such things?”

  Jarek did. A facet of his Gift was speaking with the recently dead, something he’d done on more than one occasion; something for which the Chevaliers would happily charge him with heresy.

  After what seemed an eternity, he finally stood safely beside Lavan, directly in front of the cave. The rising moons were close to merging now, creating a strange light that washed over them in waves, distorting his vision. It’s dizzying effect was strangely reminiscent of what he’d experienced stepping inside the relic vault—where the aethers had been so overwhelming.

  They entered the cave, following a path that spiraled downward, losing itself in darkness. They eased forward, the steep gradient and loose gravel making footing chancy. Lavan hadn’t taken twenty steps when pebbles broke from beneath his heel. He fell, sliding down the embankment. Jarek reached out. “Grab my hand!”

  Lavan took it. “Praise you!” he said, struggling back to his feet. “Step with care.”

  The two trudged deeper. The farther they went, the darker it grew. There was no way they’d be able to see the moons from in here, no way to test Lavan’s Nexus. Were they even in the right place, or were they squandering their only chance to view it? How trustworthy were Lavan’s calculations and Goodricke’s instrument?

  Light appeared, shining from a hole just ahead. They peered down at a vertical drop to a moonlit beach below. Several cubits deep, a fall here could prove fatal. Gods how he hated heights.

  “Any ideas as to how we get down there?” Jarek asked. “Perhaps roping ourselves together?”

  Lavan scoffed. “The very sort of mundane solution I’d expect from a royal lap dog. Is that the limits of your art?” He held out his hand. “Take hold and grip tightly, let me show you how a real magus deals with such situations.” He chuckled. “Although its theory is sound, I’d be remiss to not point out that I’ve never tried this before.”

  Jarek rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

  “Do you want to see this Nexus or not?”

  “Just do it!”

  Lavan chanted, and a sense of weightlessness swept over Jarek. His stomach lurched as he and Lavan lifted off the ground. He held his breath, heart palpitating, as they drifted out and downward, floating feather-like toward the moonlit patch below.

  Moments later they were standing in a small ravine, their feet once again on solid ground. “And you said I was one for flair,” Jarek mumbled, trying to regain his equilibrium.

  The strange moonlight was even more intense down here. And although they were out of the wind, it felt cooler here. Wherever a rock stuck out, a shadow formed beneath it, giving the tiny gorge an eerie look. Its stone walls were layered with orange, interspersed with tan. Lichens and small shrubbery scaled their craggy walls to either side, which merged at a pond that gave the place a dank smell.

  Jarek walked to the waterhole. Kneeling, he dipped a hand into its waters and smelled it. It was freshwater not brine, likely what sustained the nearby plant life. He looked around. His duties had taken him to many exotic places, but none compared to this one. Had other Nexuses occurred here before to create this marvelously unique setting, or was this the first of its kind?

  “Hurry, the Nexus happens soon,” Lavan urged, upending his knapsack. A large stone and several crystals tumbled out. Roughly the size of a man’s head, the stone’s surface was filled with sparkling agate motes. “These crystals are Celestine. Exposure to the aethers makes them glow. The more concentrated the aethers, the brighter they shine.”

  Jarek emptied his pack. It held a pair of hammers.

  By now shadows were dancing on the surrounding crags, heightening the canyon’s strange feel. Off in the distance he could hear the crashing of surf—they were almost down to the sea. Blowing air on his chilled hands, Jarek’s gaze sought the heavens. Minerva and Ceres now overlapped, and Juno was drawing close. Lavan’s Nexus was imminent.

  Lavan picked up the crystals, giving half to Jarek. “I’ll stake this side of this pool; you do the far side.”

  Jarek waded through shallow waters to the far side of the pool. Running his fingers through his hair, he scouted out where best to place them. The two men set about tamping the crystals into the sand until the pond was encircled.

  Done, Lavan sat back on his haunches and lit his pipe, his shaking hands barely allowing him to do it.

  “I’ve never seen you fret so. What’s the purpose of the stone and crystals? How is this experiment of yours supposed to work, anyhow?”

  “I’m fretting out of dread that my experiment will fail—that we’ve trudged all this way for naught.”

  “Not to worry old friend—your theories always bear out. Now, about that explanation…”

  “Once
the Nexus begins, I’ll levitate this stone over the water, keeping my aether flow constant. If as predicted, the Nexus focuses the aethers, the strength of my spell should increase, thus driving the stone skyward.” He rotated the stone. “I chose it because of its reflective motes. They’ll serve as a visual measure of the ebb and flow of the aether’s strength. It’s the same with the crystals; the brighter they glow, the greater the concentration of aethers.”

  Jarek shook his head. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

  Light suddenly flared from the crystals. Color cascaded everywhere, as if a rainbow had shattered above them and was falling from the sky. Jarek sat staring in awe. What sort of thing was a Nexus, anyway? He rubbed his arms. The place had gotten dramatically colder. But despite the chill and that awful float down, seeing this amazing sight made it all worthwhile.

  “It’s begun,” Lavan yelped, tossing the stone at the pond. Before it could hit, a waggle of his fingers pushed it to the center where he hovered it in place. Glancing Jarek’s way, Lavan pulled out his amulet and he kissed his ruby. “For luck.” Arms extended, he chanted. Swirling mist engulfed the stone, spinning it within a cloudy maelstrom. As the crystals burned brighter the glowing agate rose. It was now at shoulder height.

  Jarek sat there, fascinated by what was unfolding before him.

  The crystals exploded in a burst of light, and the agate leaped higher. “Yes!” Lavan yelled, hoisting his fists, watching the stone rise. Puffing his pipe, he gave Jarek an I-told-you-so grin.

  Jarek simply gawked at the cavorting rock. Apparently, his friend had the right of it—maybe he was witnessing magic akin to that of the ancients.

  The Nexus continued to strengthen Lavan’s spell. But what were they learning here? Would this discovery indeed be the legacy Lavan hoped for?

  Jarek’s musings were suddenly interrupted by strange murmurings in his mind. What in all hells? It sounded like speech, but not any language he’d ever heard. Dim at first, it grew louder. It was a voice! He looked over at Lavan, who stared back at him looking every bit as confounded as he was.

  Are you making those noises? Lavan asked.

  No!

  Who speaks? asked the mysterious voice—now speaking Common.

  Jarek sat up, his heart pounding. Someone—or something, had joined them. He looked around, but saw no one.

  Lavan was also looking. He’d heard it, too. An excellent question. Who does speak, and where are you? Lavan ventured.

  The pond churned, bubbling, glowing an iridescent blue green. I am here.

  Lavan backed away, looking aghast, as did Jarek, his skin crawling. The ripples faded, replaced by a macabre image of a face! A ghoulish one, buried deep within a cowl. The strange visage slowly filled the pool’s surface, with no body visible. The creature was appalling.

  Yes, I see you. Lavan answered. Who and what are you, and how is it you appear before us?

  Shrouded under its hood, the thing’s face was barely discernable. Enough showed however, to see a pair of glowing red eyes take in their surroundings. The beast’s gaze flitted from Jarek to Lavan. I’m a fellow practitioner of the arts, and if I may be so bold, one of no small merit. Knowing so little of those to whom I speak, I am reluctant to say more. Its gaze settled on the crystals. Who are you, and what antics are you about with those fiery gems?

  Jarek remained silent, trying to fathom the shimmering abomination before him. He could see right through its ghost-like image, down to the sands below. The wraith’s gaze met Lavan’s, waiting.

  Jarek shook his head in a silent plea for his friend to say no more.

  I’m headmaster of an arts university, he answered, paying Jarek no heed. These ‘antics’ test this zenith of power before us, but you must answer my questions if you wish me to share more.

  The creature took Lavan’s measure, as if the two were engaged in a game of Castles, each of them contemplating the other’s next move. A fair bargain. The first is simple; you may call me Zakarah. Jarek wondered at the name, so unlike any he’d heard. Divulgence of my location is… difficult. Think of it as ‘elsewhere,’ an alternate existence to your own. This ‘zenith of power’ as you call it, has removed the cumbers between our worlds, allowing my presence. So… …whom do I address?

  The cowl masked Zakarah’s expression. Jarek knew his scholarly friend was dangerously intrigued by this beast. I am called Lavan, he’s Jarek of the King’s Court. Your turn, what brings you to this place?

  Shadowed images appeared at Zakarah’s sides. Arms! He held them out, palms up, just below the water’s surface. The same agglomeration of aethers that drew you. How is it you assess it?

  Lavan looked toward Jarek. Puffing his pipe, he looked equal parts wary and enthralled. Jarek shook his head no. Lavan smiled, nodding yes. We test our conjecture that an alignment of our moons will focus the aethers here, amplifying the Gift.

  I can assure you heavenly bodies do focus aethers, a postulate I have oft demonstrated in other elsewheres. Gnarled fingers of one hand touched those of his other. Perhaps we might pool our knowledge… …what say you to that?

  How so?

  I would know more of those glowing shards, and of this university of yours.

  Jarek thought the latter an odd request, one lacking good reason. His every instinct said to have no part of this repulsive creature. Stop this folly, he directed Lavan’s way.

  Zakarah’s head snapped toward Jarek, giving him a hateful scowl.

  Jarek’s attention flew back to Lavan, who had crept back to pond’s edge. Are you sure of this?

  Lavan met his gaze. It’s all right.

  Save for his wandering eyes, Zakarah’s image remained unmoving; his blurry countenance unchanging. It was as if he found this sort of encounter commonplace. What kind of creature was he? What powers were required for him to project himself here? Despite Zakarah’s odious appearance, there was knowledge to be learned, an allure he feared his learned friend would find irresistible.

  Lavan knelt by the pool and pointed at a crystal. These gems gauge the aether’s strength. As for the university, it’s a place of learning. We store relics there, hypothesize magical theory, and train young sorcerers. The crystals exploded light, blasting the agate higher. We must hasten. Share what you will sir, but quickly!

  A smile painted the vile-looking visage—the first show of emotion since Zakarah’s surprise appearance. Good fortune blesses you, for kinesis is both my skill and my passion. Assist me and I’ll show you its full potency.

  The agate now soared so high it was barely visible. What would you have us do? Lavan asked.

  Quickly then, immerse one of those gems in the water.

  Lavan upended a crystal, squinting against its intense glare. Shielding his eyes, he dipped it under the water’s surface.

  He screamed the instant it touched the water. With the spell levitating it disrupted, his agate plummeted, splashing into the water, disappearing beneath its surface. The resulting ripples blurred Zakarah’s image.

  Grabbing his hammer, Jarek splashed through the shallows, rushing to help. Grabbing Lavan’s arm, he pulled him to his feet, but one foot remained ankle deep in the water. Gossamer threads entangled it. Jarek knelt, hammering at them. Instead of breaking, the spider-like webs encircled his wrist too.

  A laugh echoed through his head. Mayhap ‘Jarek of the King’s Court’ is not so mighty as he thinks.

  Twisting the hammer, Jarek managed to break free, but by now, the strange netting had completely enveloped Lavan’s leg. Grabbing Lavan by the wrist, Jarek rolled backwards, trying to pull him free.

  Instead, some force pulled Lavan the opposite way. Lavan’s hand slipped out of Jarek’s grip. “Gods! Help me Jarek!” Lavan screamed as he slipped beneath the water’s surface.

  Jarek scrambled to his feet. Zakarah pointed a hand at him. A spell blasted his mind. Muscles twitched and gave way, collapsing him to his knees. Laughter flooded his mind
—evil, hate-filled laughter as more diaphanous tendrils appeared, ensnaring his friend, pulling him ever deeper.

  Lavan’s dread was palpable as he slipped deeper and deeper into the watery abyss, his hand reaching, beseeching Jarek’s aid, his expression was one of utter terror. Gods Jarek, help me!

  It was Lavan’s last plea.

  His image shimmered, then faded into nothingness, his terrified mind-wail echoing briefly before it too, faded from Jarek’s mind. “Lavan!” he screamed. “Gods Lavan, say something! What’s happening?”

  He tried using the orbs. Lavan! It’s Jarek—answer me!

  That plea too, went unanswered. He fell face-first in the sand. “No-o-o!” he screamed, sobs wracking his chest as he rocked back and forth, positive the look on Lavan’s face would haunt him forever.

  He heard footsteps pounding toward him. “Are you alright, milord?” Goodricke had somehow made his way down the shaft. “Where is Master Lavan?”

  Jarek sat up, scanning the area. The crystals had dimmed—the Nexus having ebbed. He looked up. “He’s gone! Seized by the foulest of beasts!”

  Strategizing

  Jarek sat in the wagon beside Goodricke watching the sun crest the ridge, but the dawn light failed to brighten his mood. Lavan gone—taken by that monster! How did that odious creature manage it? What powers did it wield? More importantly, where had it taken Lavan? In order to rescue him, Jarek needed answers, and right now he had none.

  Thankfully, the university was in sight now. He’d gotten almost no sleep—poor Goodricke had gotten none. They trotted through the main gate. “Get some rest, milord,” Goodricke urged, “I’ll attend the horses. We’ve used them poorly.”

  Weary to the point of exhaustion, Jarek didn’t argue. It was all he could do to open the university’s heavy oak door. A sleepy-eyed acolyte greeted him. “Magus, may I assist you?”

  “There’s been a terrible incident. I need to speak with whoever’s in charge in your headmaster’s absence?”

  “That would be Master Kagen.”

  “Then take me to him. It’s urgent.”