Path of the Specialist

by Pedro Urvi

  Astrid touched the wall. “Are you sure it was here?”

  “Sure. Look at that mark.” He pointed to a black mark on the white wall. “It’s unmistakable. In fact, it seems to be there... as if it was marking the spot...”

  “It looks to me like any old mark. But it could be something put there to identify it, yeah.”

  Suddenly Camu appeared beside them and gave a little cry of joy.

  “Camu!” Astrid cried. She was delighted to see the little one.

  Lasgol bent down and stroked Camu, who flexed his legs and wagged his tail.

  Are you all right, Camu?

  Yes, well.

  Why did you follow Enduald?

  Feel magic.

  You should have warned me and waited for me.

  Camu tilted his head. Warn. Wait.

  Yes. But I mean before you decided to follow him.

  Follow fun.

  Follow dangerous, Lasgol said, and wagged his finger in warning.

  Camu gave a shriek of protest.

  “Thank goodness you’re okay,” said Astrid. She stroked his head.

  Camu took a few steps toward the wall below the black mark and stiffened. He pointed to the wall with his tail.

  “What are you doing, Camu?” Lasgol asked.

  Camu flashed golden, then touched the wall with the tip of his tail. The entrance to the cave became visible.

  “Wow...” Astrid said. She put her hand to her weapons, and Lasgol did the same.

  “Are we going in there?”

  Lasgol nodded. “There’s something strange going on here. I want to find out what it is.”

  “It might be dangerous. There’s magic mixed up in it...”

  He nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

  “We’ll be careful. Wherever you go, I’m coming with you.”

  He looked into the brunette’s eyes. He saw in them that there would be no way of dissuading her, so he did not even try.

  “All right,” he said, and smiled at her.

  He went into the cave cautiously, with Astrid following him like a shadow and Camu behind them. He knew it was a bad idea, but he had to find out what was going on here; it might be connected in some way with him or Camu, even if only distantly and circumstantially. Or perhaps this man was the one Nilsa had told them about: the one who had been sent to kill him. He doubted this, as Enduald knew Sigrid and the Elders and therefore must be trustworthy. Whatever the case, it was better to make sure, since by now he was coming to believe that he could not trust anybody, except the Panthers and Astrid. Nobody else. The dwarf’s behavior was very odd, and the fact that he was using magic was even more suspicious.

  He stopped and stared into the gloom. He could not make anything out, so he went forward very carefully to avoid being spotted.

  They went down a narrow passage, more tunnel than cave. He wondered whether it was natural or whether man had played a part in it: probably both. Camu leapt on to his back. He was really heavy now, and it was a hard job carrying him. Lasgol felt his neck being licked, shivered under the caress and smiled.

  He stopped for a moment. You’ve found magic, haven’t you? he asked him, using his Gift. Camu began to dance on his back, which Lasgol interpreted as meaning that he was happy about finding it. He went on, wondering whether Camu’s happiness at discovering magic was something innate in him, or a skill like those he himself had developed. Probably it was innate in the little creature. He must have been born with that skill, since nobody had taught it to him.

  The passage opened into an enormous cave, which was completely natural. Before entering it, Lasgol used his Gift and called upon his Owl Hearing skill. He could not manage it at the first attempt, so he tried again, and this time it worked. He felt part of his inner energy being consumed, and a green flash surrounded his head. An auditory wave of power spread throughout the cave as far as the walls. Nothing. Not a sound. The place seemed deserted. Lasgol made up his mind, looked back at Astrid behind him and nodded. She nodded back, and they went in.

  The walls of the cave were whitish, and those to the north were covered with moss. Through an opening in the ceiling there came two beams of light which illuminated the place faintly. He moved carefully over an irregular floor of rock, covered here and there with vegetation. In the eastern wall was the opening of a new tunnel. He peered in and saw that it went down into the depths, to a lower chamber. Camu stiffened and pointed inside the tunnel. Did he go down there? Lasgol messaged. That gives us a bit of time to check the place. You stay here and watch. If he comes back, warn me.

  I warn.

  Lasgol and Astrid went on exploring. Beside the north wall they found a long oak table with two seats, which puzzled them. They went closer to inspect it and were taken aback. It was some kind of craft workshop, but he did not know what it was used for, since he did not recognize the tools on the table. He looked inquiringly at Astrid, who shrugged and shook her head.

  This was very strange. What was this workshop doing, hidden away there? Who was that dark character? What was he up to? All these questions were in Lasgol’s mind when he found two large sacks and several wooden crates on one side of the table, in the shadows. The first was tied with a rope, and the knot was easy to untie. He opened the sack, and when he put his hand inside, he felt something rough. He took it out and put it on the table.

  It was the cloak of a Ranger Specialist!

  The two of them looked at one another, surprised and puzzled.

  He put his hand in the sack again and found more cloaks. What was this man doing with all those cloaks? What did he want them for? He felt very uneasy.

  “I don’t like the look of this. Something’s going on here. I smell a trap, treason. The only reason for having all these cloaks hidden here would be...to pass themselves off as Specialists!”

  She put a finger to her lips. “Shhh!”

  He lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper. “It smells of treason.”

  “I agree.”

  He turned to open one of the crates. These were more difficult to open, but he forced one of them with his knife. His jaw dropped.

  Specialist Medallions!

  He had no doubt now. The man was planning treason. What exactly? Who was he doing it for? Was he going to betray the Rangers? Who to?

  Astrid was studying one of the medallions in her hand. “They’re authentic,” she whispered.

  “This looks very bad.”

  Suddenly Camu sent Lasgol a warning message. In his mind there appeared a blurred image of the dwarf coming up from the lower chamber, and it looked as though he was not alone. The image was not very clear, so that he could not make out who it was with him, but he could not stay to see. They had to get out of there.

  Let’s go! he said to Camu, but his friend did not move.

  Come on!

  But Camu did not seem to want to leave.

  We’re leaving now!

  At last Camu obeyed.

  Lasgol made an exasperated noise, then jabbed his finger at the tunnel. “Let’s go. There are two people on their way.”

  They ran as fast as they could toward the tunnel they had entered by, and when they came out the cave sealed itself behind them. They went on running until they were lost in the forest. A little later a figure of restricted height, wrapped in black, appeared on his way out of the cave. Behind him came a Specialist Ranger wearing his hood and face scarf. A moment later both vanished into the woods.

  Chapter 32

  At dawn the next day, Lasgol and Astrid were explaining what had happened to Ingrid and Viggo as they got ready to face the day. They were a little way away, beside the last bunk bed, speaking in low voices so that nobody would hear them.

  “I knew the dwarf was the murderer,” Viggo said with his hands on his hips.

  “Person of restricted height,” Ingrid corrected him. “And that doesn’t make him the murderer.”

  “It proves he has the Gift, and that he’s preparing some kind of treacher
y.”

  “That’s true, but that doesn’t mean it has anything to do with Lasgol or us.”

  “That’s right,” Astrid agreed.

  “If Lasgol’s involved,” Viggo argued, “it has something to do with him. It’s always like that, it’s happened more than once already.”

  “He’s got something there,” Lasgol had to admit.

  “I’m not disputing the fact that there’s something strange going on here and that it smells of treachery,” Ingrid said. “But before we accuse anybody of murder, we need to be sure.”

  Lasgol nodded. “That’s true.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on Lasgol,” Astrid said. “You keep your eyes open in case Enduald tries something.”

  “Done,” Ingrid replied.

  “Suppose we prepare an accident for him?” Viggo suggested. “Just to make sure. That way we eliminate the risk completely.” He spread his hands wide in an innocent gesture.

  “No accidents until we’re sure,” Ingrid told him.

  Viggo shook his head. “My system is better. Once the runt’s dead, the risk’s out of the way.”

  “I can see your point of view,” Astrid said, “and don’t think it hasn’t got its appeal. But we can’t go around killing everybody we find suspicious.”

  Lasgol gave Astrid a look of surprise and reproach.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked. “His point of view’s quite valid.”

  “What on earth are they teaching you in Expertise?” Lasgol asked uneasily.

  Viggo smiled broadly. “To deal with problems.”

  “That’s exactly it,” Astrid said. She and her partner smiled.

  Lasgol looked at them in horror. “You leave me speechless.”

  “It’s for your own good,” Viggo pointed out.

  Astrid ruffled Lasgol’s hair. “I’ll be your shadow, don’t you worry.”

  “I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about what you’re turning into.”

  “We’re turning into assassins,” Viggo said. “What did you expect?”

  Lasgol was about to reply when he heard someone calling his name. Elder Specialist Gisli, who was in the middle of the Cave of Spring, was signaling to him. He hurried to his side.

  “Come with me, you’ve been summoned.” Gisli said and set off.

  Lasgol said goodbye to his friends with a look of puzzlement and followed the Elder. It did not take him long to guess where they were heading: the Pearl. This made him nervous, as he knew that every time they went there, strange things happened, and not necessarily good ones. He tried to relax as they went up the hill. Perhaps this time things would go well and nothing strange would happen in front of that arcane spherical object. But as soon as they arrived, something told him that it was not going to be so.

  “We were expecting you,” Sigrid said with a mischievous smile.

  Lasgol knew at once that the Mother Specialist was up to something. Today she was not the kind old lady but the sinister leader.

  “These pupils sleep more than dormice,” Ivar said unhappily.

  With him was Engla. A little further away, Annika was staring at him intently. They were definitely up to something.

  “Today we’re going to go on with the experiments,” Sigrid announced, as if this were the most normal thing in the world.

  Lasgol’s stomach turned. “Now? Here?” he asked. It was daytime, and there was no bonfire ready. Perhaps it would be some other kind of experiment.

  Sigrid smiled. “Yes, now. That’s why we’ve met. But no, it won’t be here.”

  Lasgol looked at her blankly. “Where, then?” he asked uneasily.

  Sigrid closed her eyes and put her hand on the smooth white surface of the Pearl. “This place emanates power.”

  “Yes, I can feel it.”

  In some way he felt the energy, the power, which the Pearl emanated, even though he did not understand it. He could feel it, like a presence around him that gave him gooseflesh and made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He had felt it that first day, and, although his friends and colleagues were unable to feel it, he was sure that the white marble sphere was imbued with some form of magic, and a powerful one at that. Unfortunately he lacked the knowledge, the experience or the power to look into it or come to any further conclusion, which frustrated and saddened him. And yet it seemed that Sigrid had either the knowledge, the experience or the power which allowed her to understand it, which left him thoughtful. The Mother Specialist kept her secrets, and they were powerful ones.

  “But there’s one other place where magic is powerful, and that’s where we’re going to do it this time.”

  “Which place is that?”

  “The Cave of the Frozen Dragon.”

  For some reason he had already guessed that it would be there. Probably his subconscious mind had already warned him that it was a place which had magic, even if now he did not remember it fully.

  “It’ll take us quite a while to get there and back...”

  “Don’t you worry about that,” Sigrid said.

  She pointed to the east, and he saw her own mount and four more coursers beside it. “You’ll ride with me,” she told him.

  “Yes... Mother Specialist,” he said, with all kinds of doubts assaulting his mind. What did they intend to do? Why were they going to that particular place? And he had to ride with Sigrid, which he found very odd. He thought of refusing. He could do it. After all, they wanted to experiment with him, and that was not something anyone would agree to lightly. They had not even asked him; they had simply assumed that he would not refuse. He thought about Camu, then glanced at Sigrid and saw her sinister smile and knew he would do nothing of the kind. If he refused, his privileges with Camu might disappear and he ran the risk that they would send him to the capital, to the king. He would end up being examined by his Ice Magi, and he could not allow that to happen.

  “Coming?” Sigrid asked.

  He realized that they were all staring at him. He had been lost in his own thoughts.

  “Do I have a choice?

  “We all have choices. Remember that this is a favor you’re doing me, and for that I’m repaying you with another...”

  Lasgol understood the veiled threat perfectly. “I know, I understand that.”

  “As long as we both keep to our part of the deal, there shouldn’t be any problem between us.”

  It was perfectly clear to him that if he refused, they would take Camu away, and he would rather die than allow that to happen. Sigrid’s motive for forcing him to accept had to be a strong one. He would have to be alert and try to find out what it was. The fact that the Mother Specialist was making him do this did not entirely make sense. Maybe if he knew what that motive was, he could turn the situation around.

  The journey to the great cave which gave entrance to the Shelter went by in no time at all. Lasgol enjoyed the ride. He held on to Sigrid’s waist, following her instructions. He did this gently, because of the fragility of the Mother Specialist’s body. As they rode through the beautiful landscapes of the Shelter, he noticed that Autumn had already arrived and was changing the colors of the landscape. The green was beginning to disappear, and yellow and ochre were beginning to tint everything the eye could see. It was a beautiful sight, with the autumn colors covering forests, fields, mountains and fords. He liked autumn. It made him more sensitive, and prepared him for the arrival of the harsh Norghanian winter, which arrived on to the scene when it was least expected with its icy winds and storms, which would cover all that beautiful landscape with snow and ice.

  When they arrived, they left the horses in a grove of trees close to the rock wall. They were carrying thick clothing in the saddlebags, and now they put it on. Lasgol was given a heavy coat, boots and winter gloves.

  “Bundle up. You’ll need it in there.”

  He remembered how cold it had been inside and nodded. As soon as he put on the coat, he felt his body temperature rising.

  Sigrid took the lead
when they climbed the stairs to the great cave. She led them to the foot of the frozen dragon. Here she spread her arms and closed her eyes, feeling its emanation.

  “This is a place of great power,” she said.

  Lasgol too could feel it, though it was weakened by the cold in there. Even with the warm clothes they were wearing, they would not be able to stay there for long. He knew that cold well; he had experienced it when he had been searching for Camu’s trail in that gigantic cavern.

  Engla turned to Sigrid. “Are you sure you want to do this experiment?” she asked and judging by her tone of voice and the expression on her face, she was not in favor of going on.

  “I think this is a serious mistake,” Ivar said. He too did not look very happy about it.

  “We can’t pass up this opportunity to study a unique case which might never occur again,” Sigrid said.

  Annika agreed. “He’s an exceptional anomaly, and we need to know what caused it.”

  “To what end?” Engla asked defiantly.

  “Improving the Path of the Specialist,” Sigrid said. “Lasgol is the key to understanding how our training and the creation of the specialists can be improved.”

  “What you’re really looking for is the creation of Superior Specialists,” Engla said accusingly.

  When he heard this, Lasgol paid close attention. He was beginning to get a hint of the reasons why Sigrid was putting pressure on him with these experiments.

  “It would be an incredibly important development for the Rangers, and also for Norghana, which would benefit greatly from it.”

  “I still think it’s very dangerous. We shouldn’t be taking this risk. Single specialization is the way. A single elite specialization per pupil is the safest and most efficient thing.”

  “That’s what our ancestors created,” said Annika, “but it’s in our hands to change it, develop it and improve it.”

  “Think about it,” Gisli said. “A Ranger with several elite specialties would be a wonder. He could face the dangers out there without any difficulty. He’d be almost unstoppable in open terrain.”

  “The King would be delighted to have a Ranger like that in his service,” Sigrid pointed out.