A Clash of Magics

by Guy Antibes

  “Enjoy your stay. There are always things going on, so feel free to stay in our town as long as you want,” the innkeeper said.

  Despite their fatigue, they all took a stroll through the well-lit streets of the little town. The festivities weren’t that energetic, Trevor thought, but it looked like whoever performed still put on a good show. There were plenty of travelers and townspeople enjoying themselves, but not the crushing crowds Trevor experienced in Bergartin.

  Some of the events looked like they were staged, but that was all right with Trevor. He looked at all the people around him as entertainers. Everyone tried hard to make them enjoy themselves. It wasn’t a life Trevor would want, but he enjoyed the evening out more than the bed which ended his day.

  They took the road southeast toward the border of Viksar and continued on, staying two more nights in Grilla. The towns were much the same, the only difference being the festival events differed slightly from place to place.

  “Are you eager to see your father?” Reena asked Lissa at breakfast the last morning in Grilla.

  Lissa nodded. “I’m also eager not to eat any apples for a few weeks.”

  Trevor looked at her plate. Lissa had picked out the apple slices from a cabbage salad. He thought her goal would only be reached in Viksar as he bit into a thick, crispy slice of applewood-flavored bacon.

  ~

  Trevor had never seen the skyline of Jiksara from the west before. He had expected the line of towers to bring back warm memories, but other than meeting Lissa and her father, there wasn’t anyone he had met in Jiksara who was a friend.

  They road through the eastern gate and soon the buildings began to take on familiarity. They emerged in front of the palace, but they didn’t stop, even though Trevor knew Azar Zutterak now ruled Viksar. Trevor decided he would at least check to see if Win had visited Viksar’s capital recently, but their first destination was the main Dryden church where Seer Caspur lived.

  Trevor could tell that Lissa was becoming more excited. This was home to her. Trevor was interested in how she would describe their adventures in Jarkan, Okora, and Brachia, including a little sliver of Fuleria.

  They entered the church and were ushered into the seer’s office. This was a familiar room that carried positive memories for Trevor. He had enjoyed working with Custik, Glynna, and Volst and missed them by his side. The door opened and Seer Caspur went directly to his daughter.

  “How we missed you!” Seer Caspur said.

  He held his daughter at arm’s length. “You don’t look any different.”

  “But I am, Father,” Lissa said. “Trevor and I have an understanding.”

  Brother Yvan looked a little uncomfortable, but Lissa positively gleamed.

  “I warned you, Yvan. My daughter is too impressionable.”

  Trevor didn’t like the seer talking about Lissa like a possessive parent. “Then why did you let her go to Jarkan?”

  Caspur looked at Brother Yvan and then at his daughter. “I didn’t want her to go, but Yvan…”

  “I wouldn’t call it my fault,” Brother Yvan said. “She saved Trevor’s life multiple times.”

  The Viksaran seer turned to Trevor. “You aren’t going by Desolation Boxster any longer?”

  “There is a story to that. Perhaps we can talk of it over a meal.”

  The seer took a few breaths and shook his head as if to clear it. He gave his daughter a lingering stare but sat in the chair behind his desk. “And you brought a handsome woman with you?” the seer said to Brother Yvan.

  “This is Reena Corulu,” Brother Yvan said.

  Seer Caspur stood and gave Reena a bow. “Focus. I should have been sensitive enough to know. My daughter distracted me.” The seer looked at Brother Yvan. “She isn’t supposed to leave Jarkan, is she?”

  Brother Yvan told the seer of their first set of adventures in Jarkan. “I’ll let Trevor tell you his own experiences in Jarkan, but he did bring Reena to Argara.”

  Seer Caspur nodded. “I am looking forward to your explanation of how you escaped the Blue Tower and ended up in Jarkan. Old magic?”

  Trevor nodded. “Old magic.”

  The seer seemed to have settled down as Lissa described the journey to Brachia and back. “You traveled for days alone with Des, uh, Trevor?”

  Trevor sat up straighter. “Nothing happened other than the experiences brought us closer together in an emotional, not a physical sense.”

  The seer snorted. “As much as I have heard that excuse, it seems to have always been the other way around.”

  “I wouldn’t say we didn’t kiss, Father, but Trevor had and has other things on his mind.”

  Caspur nodded. “I received a communication from the order that you would be visiting on the way to Collet. There wasn’t any more than that. You know those limitations, Yvan.”

  “I’m glad the order managed that,” Brother Yvan said. “How is Azar doing?”

  “Remarkably well. I thought there would be difficulties for the man to transition from running the Jilgrathian academy to running Viksar, but he has hidden them, if he’s had any.”

  “We can visit him?”

  Seer Caspur nodded. “Certainly. You can stay at the church. Lissa has her room.”

  ~

  Trevor decided to leave the church after dinner and went for a walk while Lissa spent some private time with her father. Reena and Brother Yvan had already left. Trevor was about to groom Snowflake but turned toward the old church where he had discovered the fragment of the golden mace.

  There were a few lights inside, and Trevor stepped through the door. There were no guards, and the second floor in the main church had already been removed. It appeared that civil servants still worked in the building. Trevor guessed that no more than five lights burned, barely lighting up the large space.

  “May I help you? We are closed to Jiksaran citizens.”

  Trevor smiled at the man. “I’m not a Jiksaran. I’ve been in the church before and wanted to look around.”

  “You are the intruder!” one of the workers said.

  Trevor recognized him as the manager of the workers. “We have met before. I haven’t come to intrude,” Trevor said. “I’ve been gone for awhile and have recently returned to Jiksara, although I won’t be here more than a few days.”

  “Why come back here?” the manager said.

  “I found a fragment of the golden mace in this building. You might not know that,” Trevor said.

  “I heard a fire destroyed the golden mace at the Blue Tower north of here. You won’t find any more bits in this church.”

  “I know. I was at the Blue Tower when it burned.”

  “That’s not true. No one survived the fire.”

  Trevor smiled. He had no need to argue with the man. “I left the tower before the fire could kill me.” Trevor looked up at the barely lit ceiling and nodded. “I’ll be leaving now.”

  He walked down the steps and into the square, thinking how Dryden might have guided his footsteps. As Trevor reviewed the past events in the church, he couldn’t tell for sure if he was lucky or if Dryden’s hand helped him. Certainly, the old magic had saved his life, but he knew Dryden hadn’t guided his every step. Perhaps the big ones? He shook his head. There was no denying he had a special gift, at least for what the seers wanted him to do. Trevor had to admit, he was enough of a churchman to think that Dryden was working through him, at least from time to time.

  The dukedom of Listenwell was more than enough as a reward, if Dryden cared about such things. To be rewarded so generously was wonderful, but Trevor still had King Worto to deal with, and as long as the king’s war took his attention away from internal things, Trevor would work the situation in Listenwell as well as he could, for as long as he could.

  Trevor walked toward the palace and stood across the road that ran around the square. He stood staring at the dark shape of the building until an officer of the guard walked across the street.

  “You should be mo
ving on, sir,” the guard said.

  The voice was vaguely familiar, and Trevor nodded. A magic light bloomed.

  “Des Boxster? It is. I thought you were dead or something.”

  Trevor laughed. It was one of Seer Caspur’s men who had helped secure the palace. He had found an occupation.

  “I went to Jarkan and just returned with Lissa Caspur, today,” Trevor said. “I’m staying at the seer’s church.”

  “Your friend, Win Fenton, lives not far from the palace. We’ve had some good talks these last few months. A few of them have been about you.”

  “Does Win visit the premier often?”

  “Two or three times a week. If you wait for a bit, I’m sure you can catch him before he gets through the gate. It is late enough, I could let you in, but tomorrow might be better, during the day.”

  “The seer will secure an audience for me,” Trevor said, “but I don’t mind waiting.”

  The officer escorted Trevor across the street. They stood in front of the gate while the officer asked him about the real story behind his disappearance at the Blue Tower.

  There weren’t any secrets that needed to be kept regarding the Blue Tower, so Trevor entertained the guard staff until a carriage rolled up. The guards stood at attention. Trevor looked on as Win helped his wife, Siranda down. Trevor was about to announce himself when Siranda focused on Trevor in the darkness and sucked in her breath.

  “Des Boxster?” she said.

  “Also known as Trevor Arcwin,” Trevor said.

  “I liked your original name the best!” Win said with a grin before he hugged his old friend. “What brings you to Jiksara?”

  “I’m passing through. Brother Yvan is taking me to Ginster.”

  “Collet? You are going to the seer headquarters?” Win asked.

  “How did you know about that?”

  “I almost live in the palace. A few things rub off when my father-in-law has us to all the state dinners. That is why we are here tonight. Three or four nights a week. I still miss some of my mother’s recipes,” Win said.

  “And the Presidon royal kitchen should compare favorably to the premier’s,” Trevor said.

  “My mother works elsewhere, now,” Win said with a sigh. “Tonight, we are having a quiet dinner. Why don’t you join us? I can send word to the seer.”

  Trevor grinned. “I’d be happy to do that. I’ve already eaten, but it will save some time if I tell my part of the story to the premier.”

  Trevor bowed to the officer on the way through the gate and followed Win through the palace. It was still familiar enough. Following Win, Trevor noticed his friend had picked up on how nobles carried themselves. He grinned at the thought of his friend being the son-in-law of a head of state.

  Azar Zutterak rose to his feet to greet his daughter when they walked into a private dining room. There were six other people for dinner, and Trevor felt like he had intruded.

  “I brought an entertainer with me,” Win said, reverting to his jovial self.

  “Des Boxster,” Azar said. “I thought you were still in Jarkan with the seer’s daughter and the Ginsterian cleric.”

  “I thought he could tell us his story while we ate. Trevor has had his dinner, but I noticed him at the gate.”

  “I arrived earlier today,” Trevor said. “I don’t want to intrude.”

  Azar looked at his wife and the visitors. “My agricultural staff. We were going to go over crop reports. I’m sure we would rather listen to you.” The premier looked at his fellow diners. They looked eager enough to talk about something else. “Surely I can talk you into some Zinkel’s ale and a few treats while you talk?”

  Trevor sat down and while the others ate, he talked and talked. The abbreviated story didn’t change much, but he did gloss over some of the details in Jarkan and didn’t mention anything about his teleporting to Collet. Azar’s staff unexpectedly asked some very pertinent and probing questions about the Jarkanese civil war and were interested in the Okoran king’s experience with the Maskumite magician.

  Azar was impressed with knowing that Trevor had reverted to his old name and had picked up the title of duke, even if it was in an enemy kingdom.

  “I’ll be able to meet a Jarkanese focus tomorrow?” Azar said.

  Trevor nodded. “I should be getting back.”

  “Win and Siranda can take you.”

  In a few minutes, Trevor helped Siranda into the carriage before Win and he climbed in.

  “Those weren’t agricultural ministers,” Trevor said.

  “He couldn’t exactly introduce them as internal spies. There are still remnants of the insurrectionists,” Win said. “I think you gave the premier a new burden.”

  Trevor shook his head. “I don’t think so. He already knew King Worto was trying to influence Hester Blisek, the old premier.”

  “Invisible magicians whispering in my ear sends chills up and down my spine,” Siranda said. “I’m sure Father is concerned.”

  “Maybe his agricultural staff can come up with some ideas,” Trevor looked at Win. “So you ditched your music career?”

  “I didn’t, at all. That is why we don’t live in the palace. Even though you killed his cousin, I’m still writing pieces for Jeruld Kantak, and I am connected with enough performers in Jiksara to keep me busy. I thought my life couldn’t be better, but that was before you showed up tonight.”

  The two old friends lapsed into reminiscing until Siranda began to snore, but they were about to pull up at the Dryden church. Trevor left them and walked into the church. He noticed a light coming from the bottom of Seer Caspur’s office door, and he knocked.

  “Come in,” Seer Caspur said.

  Trevor told him about his evening.

  “You don’t waste any time. I hadn’t expected you to attend a state dinner with the premier on your first night,” the seer said with a smile.

  “You won’t have to listen to my story tomorrow. I’m sure Brother Yvan and Lissa can recite it in their sleep by now.”

  “Not Reena?” Caspur asked.

  “Probably her too,” Trevor said. He told the seer about the intelligence ministers. “I hope I didn’t let out any state secrets.”

  Seer Caspur laughed. “Not at all. Those are men I recommended for the job. Azar doesn’t know all the right people, yet.”

  “I’m glad you are advising him and not advising Hamel Rorsik”

  “Maybe so, but you are scheduled to talk to Hamel before you leave Jiksara. We can discuss that after our audience with the premier.

  Chapter Six

  ~

  T he next audience with the premier was more formal. They spoke to Zutterak in his courtroom. There weren’t that many people in attendance, including three of the same intelligence ministers. The premier was more concerned about where Trevor was going rather than where he had been.

  “I have consulted with my ministers and Hamel Rorsik this morning. They have agreed to work on a charm to counter any invisibility spell. The major problem as they see it, is testing it.”

  Trevor didn’t have any idea how to do that, either, other than visit King Worto. He mentioned that as a possibility to Azar.

  “Then you have my concurrence,” the premier said. “The seer has arranged a meeting with Rorsik after lunch. I would invite you to dine with me, but I have invited the foreign minister of West Moreton, and it would be inappropriate for you to attend.”

  “I understand,” Trevor said.

  The rest of the audience consisted of questions posed to Reena. Two scribes wrote down her answers. When that was finished, they left the courtroom and returned to the church.

  “You know the way to the Order of Gold?” Seer Caspur asked. “No one else among us can enter the order but you, not even my daughter.” Caspur glanced at Lissa.

  Lunch seemed to speed by, and Trevor took Snowflake to the Order of Gold. He easily remembered the way and walked into the lobby and told the same woman he remembered from before that he was here
to speak with Hamel Rorsik.

  The leader of the order made Trevor wait for half an hour for a prearranged appointment. Trevor walked into the same office. A lump of gold sat on a shelf in his office.

  “The mace?” Trevor asked.

  “I can’t be sure, but I think so. The tower was destroyed by the fire of a magician’s circle. Nothing recognizable remained. There were other gold blobs, but this one was by itself.”

  Trevor picked it up. It weighed right. He turned it over to reveal the texture of stonework on the bottom side. He put it back before taking a seat, even though Rorsik hadn’t offered him one.

  “Azar tells me you have an idea for a charm?”

  Trevor pursed his lips. “I’m not a magician, but…” He told Rorsik about his experience with the two Maskumite magicians.

  “That is against all our magical codes!”

  “I didn’t dream up the illusion. I could see the magicians, and no one else could. We need charms to hand out to all the world’s leaders and their guards,” Trevor said.

  “But what if it is too difficult?” Rorsik asked.

  “You are golds, are you not? I would expect you to come up with something.” He described how the cloth outlined the magician and then vanished as the covering became part of the spell.

  “I’ll have my people research it.”

  “I’ll suggest the seers do the same.”

  Rorsik looked disgruntled. “How can you dictate what any magician or seer does?”

  “Consider me a representative of the seers. I have been to Collet.”

  “Teleported in an ancient chair?”

  Trevor nodded, but he wasn’t about to tell the still-hostile Hamel Rorsik the entire truth. “They want me to become some kind of messenger for Dryden.”

  Rorsik’s face turned white. “There was one such messenger centuries ago. He died defending his faith, so says the legend. Dryden was so angry there was a cataclysm. We still feel the effects today.”

  “You believe that? I thought you weren’t a believer?”

  “What is truth and what is legend?” Rorsik said. “You have a unique talent. Perhaps Dryden has made all this happen.”