Defender Of The Crown: Heir to the Crown: Book Seven

by Paul J Bennett

  The knight took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "You may begin when ready."

  Aubrey looked at Kraloch. He was on the other side of the bed, his hands clasped before him.

  "Are you ready?" asked the Orc.

  "As ready as I'll ever be."

  They both began casting, Kraloch in his deep baritone and the Life Mage in her higher register.

  Aubrey felt the power build within her as the words flowed forth. Closing her eyes, she also felt the power emanating from the shaman, combining with her own to create an even greater harmonic.

  The ritual continued for some time until her arms ached, and her knees weakened. Then, as she felt a light-headedness, brilliant colours exploded in her mind. Behind her eyes, there was a sharp pain, like someone was driving needles into them, but just as quick, it disappeared.

  She found herself standing in a small cavern. Above her, the ceiling was smooth as if wind and sand had worn the rock down over the years. Kraloch appeared beside her, his hand upon his forehead.

  "Are you well?" she asked, her voice echoing like she was in a vast chamber.

  "I felt a great pain," replied the Orc, "then it disappeared. Where are we?"

  "We must be in Sir Preston's mind."

  Kraloch staggered forward, his feet unsteady. "I feel odd," he said, "though I cannot truly explain it."

  Aubrey took a tentative step. "I'm slightly dizzy," she said.

  "Likely a result of the magic that brought us here."

  She took a deep breath, steadying her own thoughts. "This is what a healthy mind looks like?" she said. "Somehow, I was expecting more."

  "Your mind is struggling to understand," explained Kraloch. "Tell me, what do you see? Be as exact as you can."

  "We're in a small cave, though perhaps subterranean chamber might be more precise. I see no exits."

  "And the walls?"

  "Smooth," Aubrey continued, "as if worn down by age."

  "And yet, Sir Preston is still relatively young by Human standards, is he not?"

  "He is. Why?"

  "This cave looks..." Kraloch paused for a moment, "unravaged."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Sir Preston is a warrior, a Knight of the Hound. I would have expected to see scars from battle."

  "In his mind?" said Aubrey.

  "Battle is very traumatic," replied the Orc. "To see this mind in such pristine condition is somewhat unexpected."

  "Do you think we are not concentrating enough? Let us move to one of the walls and examine it in more detail."

  "An excellent idea," said Kraloch, "but I suggest we do so slowly."

  "I'm in agreement with you there."

  As they drew closer, the wall came sharply into focus.

  "The surface is rough," Aubrey said, "with what looks like scrapes and cuts on it."

  "So it does. I wonder if a child's mind would still be smooth?"

  "You think these marks are memories?" she asked.

  "It's as good a conclusion as any. In any case, I see nothing here that would require healing, do you?"

  "No," Aubrey agreed, "but then again, Sir Preston is not ill. It will be interesting to see what Revi's mind will reveal."

  "Shall we return?"

  "Not just yet. We should examine the entire area to see if there's anything else of note."

  "As you wish," said Kraloch.

  They continued their examination until Aubrey felt there was nothing else to see.

  "Time, I think, to return," she said.

  "Very well," said Kraloch, "let us leave this place." He closed his eyes, reciting words of power, then his body vanished, as though he had never existed. When Aubrey dismissed her own spell, she felt a lurching sensation as her mind raced back to her body.

  A severe attack of vertigo left her struggling to keep the contents of her stomach intact. When she finally opened her eyes, the room spun, only abating as her eyes adjusted to being back in the physical world. She noticed Sir Preston sitting up, watching her closely.

  "Are you well, Lady Aubrey?" he asked.

  "I will recover, but the spell was disorienting. How was it for you, Kraloch?"

  The Orc, who was a lighter shade of his usual green, looked back at her sheepishly. "I would concur with your assessment," he admitted.

  "And you, Sir Preston?" she asked.

  "I didn't feel anything. I wasn't even sure that your spell worked until you returned. You two were just sitting there doing nothing."

  "Great, another spell that leaves me defenceless," said Aubrey. "Tell me, Kraloch, are there more Life Magic spells that leave us so vulnerable?"

  "There are, I'm afraid. Almost all the ones associated with the spirit realm are that way."

  "Are you suggesting that this spell was spirit-based?"

  "In a sense, yes," said Kraloch. "After all, our minds did leave our bodies, did they not?"

  "I suppose they did," she replied.

  "Then, you have your answer."

  "Well, one thing's for sure," said Aubrey, "we'll need to rest before we try that on Revi."

  "Yes," the Orc agreed, "and that is only to diagnose his illness. Once that's done, we need to figure out how to actually heal him."

  "I've been giving that some thought," said Aubrey. "When I heal someone, let's say a knife wound, I picture the healed flesh in my mind. Is it the same for you?"

  "It is," said Kraloch, "I suppose that means you'd need to picture Revi's mind in a healed state."

  "Yes, but we don't know if his mind will look anything like Sir Preston's."

  "That's true. Could each person's mind look different?"

  "I'm sure it would be similar," said Aubrey, "else the pictures in my great grandmother's book wouldn't match what we just saw."

  "An astute observation," said Kraloch, "but now we need to recover our strength if we are to help Master Bloom. I will go and rest."

  "My magical energy is low, that's true," said Aubrey, "but I'm wide awake. I think I'll make some sketches of what we saw. It can only help me visualize a healthy mind for Revi."

  Kraloch nodded his head. "As you wish."

  * * *

  It was late the next day before they had the chance to visit the poor Life Mage. He lay in bed, the sheets soaked in sweat, his whole body tossing and turning as he mumbled incoherently.

  "The magebane has been administered?" asked Aubrey.

  "It has," said Kiren-Jool, "though I fear it does him no good. Prolonged exposure to it may have long-lasting effects."

  "Then we must cure him quickly," she replied. "Has he taken any food?"

  "Only a broth," the Enchanter replied, "and even getting him to take that has been a chore. Do you really think you can help him?"

  "We are hopeful," she said, "but we are only here today to investigate, not cure. We must get inside his mind and determine where the illness lies. Only then can we begin to formulate a plan to cure him."

  "Then I shall pray to the Saints that you are successful," said Kiren-Jool. "Perhaps, with their help, you will see a way through this for poor Master Bloom." He rose, backing away from the bed.

  Aubrey looked down at Revi. His hands were still bound to the bed, limiting his movement, but the risk of the mage releasing his magic was a very real threat, for even magebane wears off in time.

  "Shall we begin?" asked Kraloch.

  "Yes," said Aubrey, taking a seat beside the bed. The Orc did likewise, sitting across from her, their patient between them. Revi, as if sensing their presence, calmed.

  Aubrey closed her eyes, placing her hands on the bed before her, palms down. She waited until Kraloch's voice reached out, echoing through the room, then joined in, creating the eerie harmonic that would release their inner power.

  The air in the room crackled with energy, and she felt the hair on her arms standing upright. On and on, they both intoned, the words spilling from their lips faster and faster until they became but a jumble of sound. The pressure mounted in her eyes, and
she waited for the sharp jab of pain, but this time, she opened herself to it, and instead, she felt a rush of air on her face.

  She opened her eyes to see Kraloch sitting across from her, his own eyes closed to his surroundings. As she watched, the entire image was washed away as if a wave of water had taken her sight.

  For a moment, panic consumed her, and then her surroundings took shape. No longer was she in the room. Instead, she stood in a tunnel, surrounded by thick green strands that reminded her of vines. As she reached out, touching one, it clung to her hand. Heat radiated off of it, not a fiery inferno, but a comforting warmth. Pulling her hand back, the vine tried to follow but eventually released its grip.

  "Fascinating," said Kraloch.

  "What is this?" said Aubrey.

  "Some kind of growth," the Orc replied. "Could it be caused by the flame?"

  "It IS the same colour," she mused, "but I'm at a loss to explain how the two are connected. Maybe it's just a coincidence. Could Revi have contracted something in the tower? A disease of some type?"

  "The rest of us returned unscathed, so I think that unlikely."

  She turned to face Kraloch. "Tell me everything you know about the flames," she said.

  "They were discovered by the Saurians, many generations ago when my people still lived in cities. They used them to travel great distances."

  "Did Orcs ever use them?" Aubrey asked.

  "Our shaman's never learned the secret of their use," he replied, "but there are stories of the Saurians taking Orcs with them on occasion."

  "And none of your race suffered any detrimental effects?"

  "Not that I'm aware of," said Kraloch, "but our shamans believed that pale skins, like you Humans, could become obsessed with the flames. I wonder if this might be the result?"

  Aubrey studied the strange tendrils. "Our minds interpret what the magic reveals, I firmly believe that. That being the case, these strands would definitely represent some type of infection. Could it really be from being in proximity to the flames?"

  "Can a person become sick by being near others that are ill?" he asked.

  "Of course, but how does that explain this?"

  "It means," Kraloch continued, "that illness can be borne through the air. I suspect the flames are similar."

  "But a flame can't make you sick."

  "No," he agreed, "but they emerge from beneath the ground. Perhaps, when the flame rises, it brings with it something that carries the sickness?"

  "I've never heard of such a thing, have you?"

  "It is said that the Dwarves have, in times past, discovered strange rocks that can make people sick by their very presence."

  "And what do they do in such cases?" Aubrey asked.

  "They bury the rock beneath layers of stone to keep it at bay. Those that sickened sometimes got better, but most usually died."

  "So, they have no cure?"

  "Not that I'm aware of," said Kraloch, "but then again, I only know what I've been told."

  Aubrey reached out, touching a tendril again. This time she tugged it, feeling resistance. "I don't suppose we could just pull these out?"

  Kraloch grasped one, pulling on it with some force. "It appears not." As he removed his hands, Aubrey noticed something.

  "Do that again."

  The Orc grasped a tendril once more, ready to pull.

  "Now let go," said Aubrey.

  He released it, looking at her in puzzlement.

  "What is it?" he asked.

  "Watch," she said, grabbing a strand. She held it only a moment, then let it go, but it stuck to her hand until she pulled it away.

  "Interesting," the Orc noted. "It seems to have a different effect where Humans are concerned."

  "Earlier, you said that pale skins could become obsessed. What if that obsession is really the mind being taken over by these strands?"

  "It's possible, I suppose."

  "And what if," Aubrey continued, her mind racing, "the Elves experimented with using the flames?"

  "But how would they have had access to them?"

  "Revi mapped out the location of all the confluences in Merceria," she said, "and one of them falls within the Darkwood." She stared at the tendrils. "Could these have contributed to the downfall of the Elves?"

  "You think these green strands might have caused them to turn to Necromancy?" Kraloch asked. "I see no evidence of that."

  "But we know that Revi was acting strange and that Orcs and Humans react differently to these things. Do you think it could even have a different effect on the Elves?"

  "I suppose it's possible," the shaman noted, "but at this point, it is only speculation. We would need an Elf that was infected to know for sure. In any case, it's irrelevant at the moment. We are here to find a cure for Revi, not help the Elves."

  "You're correct, of course," said Aubrey, "though I must remember to bring my theories to the queen. I'm sure she'd be most interested."

  "And these things?" said Kraloch, indicating the strands.

  "Now that we've seen them, I must do further research. We can't simply pull them down, that much we know, but I suspect it's our own minds that are restricting us."

  "How so?" he asked.

  "We are not physically inside his head," she replied. "Rather, our minds are probing his and trying to make sense of what they see. We cannot pluck these vines from a picture, that would be like picking flowers from a painting."

  "I see what you mean," said Kraloch. "What, then, is the answer? Some type of healing spell?"

  "That would be my guess, but which? We've tried healing flesh and neutralizing toxins. I even tried using regeneration."

  "Those spells are all similar," said Kraloch. "Might there be a variation of which we are unaware?"

  "Yes," said Aubrey, "one that targets the mind."

  "Mutations," said Kraloch.

  "Mutations?"

  "Yes, it occurs to me that is the term we are looking for. Every once in a while, word comes from our tribemates of an Orc youngling born with unusual features."

  "Like what?" she asked.

  "The one that comes readily to mind is a colourless skin. We call them ghost-walkers. Instead of a healthy green, they will appear pale and ghostlike, with unusual eyes."

  "My grandmother's notes make reference to it in Humans as well, but she called it albinoism."

  "Our elders refer to it as a mutation," explained Kraloch. "Though in our society, it is often seen as a mark of distinction. Could the effect we see here today be something similar?"

  "An interesting thought," said Aubrey. "Mutations generally occur before birth, but if what you're saying is true, then this infection, or whatever it is, is mutating people that are already born. Perhaps that's the key?"

  "So, we need some way to reverse its effects, that is our way forward."

  "I agree. Let us return to our bodies and continue our research."

  Dismissing the spell, Aubrey felt her mind drifting back to her body. Everything went black, and then the room began taking form as if it had been slowly illuminated after being plunged into darkness.

  Aubrey looked across at Kraloch, who was blinking as his eyes readjusted.

  "Any luck?" asked Kiren-Jool.

  "Yes," said Aubrey, "we think we've located the problem. The issue now is finding a way to remove the infection."

  "You say infection, I take it, you saw something in there?"

  "His mind was covered in strange green tendrils," said Aubrey, "the same colour as the flame."

  "Could this be true of anyone who has used the Saurian gates?" asked the Kurathian.

  "I suppose it could," said Aubrey. "I hadn't thought of that."

  "We know the Orcs are immune," said Kraloch, "and likely the Saurians, too."

  "That doesn't help the rest of us," noted Kiren-Jool. "We've sent a lot of people through those gates, some more than others. You, yourself, have travelled by that method, Lady Aubrey, have you not?"

  "I have," she said, "an
d so has the queen!"

  Kraloch rose. "Come, we have work to do."

  * * *

  The mages of Merceria rose as one when Queen Anna entered.

  "You have news?" she asked.

  "We have, Your Majesty," said Aubrey.

  The queen sat, indicating that the others should do likewise. "Let's hear it then. The realm is in peril, and I have much to do."

  "We think we have determined the cause of Master Bloom's illness," Aubrey said.

  "That is good news indeed, but I hardly think that requires a meeting of the entire Mages Council."

  "There's more," Aubrey continued. "When we used magic to probe Revi's mind, we found evidence of a strange malady, an infection, if you will. We believe it was caused by his study of the Eternal Flames of the Saurian Temples."

  "And..." Anna asked. "We've already banned their use. How is this of any import?"

  "There may be long-term effects of even light use," she said.

  "And how, might I ask, do you know this?"

  "After we returned from examining Revi, we thought to conduct similar tests with others, among them Lady Hayley. She, too, shows signs of being afflicted, though to a much lesser degree than Revi."

  "Are you saying we're all sick?" the queen asked. "Are you suggesting we quarantine everyone?"

  "No," said Kraloch, "we don't believe the illness spreads in that manner."

  "Then how does it?"

  "There is reason to believe," said the Orc, "that the flames bring strange minerals to the surface. Minerals that are detrimental to Humans, Elves and Dwarves. As far as we've been able to determine, Orcs and Saurians are immune to its effects."

  "How bad is it?” asked Anna.

  "Revi's mind was full of long green tendrils, but he's the worst case. Others, such as Hayley, show signs of infection as well, but the tendrils hang from the ceiling, more like small hairs than vines."

  "I have been through the gates myself," said the queen, "as has Gerald. Are you saying we're all carrying this malady?"

  "I'm afraid it's very likely," said Aubrey, "though we can, of course, confirm through further study."

  "We have no time for this, for our very way of life is under attack."

  "Though the malady is present," said Aubrey, "it does not appear to have had any detrimental effects on others, only Revi is incapacitated."