by P. R. Adams
Rather than annoyed, Quil seemed deep in thought. “The interpretation of the role of the prophet continues to disturb me.”
“That’s one problem. Another is the way this magic seems to—” Riyun shrugged. “Does it seem like what you’d call a system? Does this really match your expectations?”
Naru poured herself a mug of the bitter drink. “We’re still learning. It’s certainly different. Magic system or not, at some point though, we have to take a stand. I thought that would be…here.”
“Maybe it will be.” Riyun finished off his drink. “Or maybe we have to—”
Tarlayn’s staff rapped against the stone floor somewhere outside the banquet hall, and after a few moments, the rasp of her steps became audible. “Before we leave, I thought you might like to know that I found something.”
She entered through the high-arched door, looking refreshed and perhaps even a little perky despite the bags under her eyes. She had changed clothes, now wearing dark green robes that seemed much more formal and inappropriate for travel. Tucked between her free arm and ribs was a large, brown tome with thick pages and bent corners.
Riyun stood. “What is it? Did you find a way to kill Meriscoya?”
The elderly wizard smiled. “Actually, there’s a good chance I did.”
42
Up close, the book Tarlayn had found was even older than it had initially appeared. The pages were yellow and seemed closer to linen than paper. When the wizard plopped the thick tome down on the banquet table, dust billowed out, drawing a sneeze from Riyun.
He sniffled and brushed snot from the tip of his nose with the back of his hand. “Couldn’t find a mustier book?”
The old wizard turned dogeared pages. “This isn’t the oldest book we had.”
“But it has what you were looking for?”
“It does.” She stopped, and her lips moved as a finger trailed across strange script. After a moment, she tapped the right-hand page. “There!”
Riyun couldn’t make sense of the text, and there was nothing on the page to help him with context. “There?”
“In the crypt beneath the hall Oldinra was protecting.”
Another crypt beneath an ancient building. These people really did love their underground structures. “What about it?”
A sapphire glow lit the doorway Tarlayn had just passed through. Alush had apparently awakened. “That is what you seek, as Tarlayn has already said.”
A wooden chair groaned as Lonar twisted around. “Big help, this guy.”
The frustration in the tweak’s voice almost certainly matched that felt by the rest of the team. They were all patiently occupying themselves with breakfast, but Riyun saw the tension on their faces.
Vague assurances were the last thing they needed to hear, and Riyun was no different. “We’ve got some work to do this morning. When do you want to go into this crypt?”
The wizard’s face pinched up. “There are some…puzzles to be solved yet.”
“What does that mean? Puzzles? What kind?”
“The crypts are ancient, and they are not meant to be easily accessed.”
“What’s the point of a crypt you can’t visit?”
The old woman closed the book. “A wizard’s crypt is not meant for the family to attend to. When a wizard of sufficient station dies, they are buried with their belongings.”
“And?”
“And those belongings can be dangerous to the world outside.”
Belongings. She meant something personal, something the wizard used for magic. “You said dragons can’t be killed but we did. Now you’re telling me that some old wizard had something that could kill dragons and these other wizards didn’t get it out of crypt to defend themselves?”
She straightened her back. “I told you that not everyone can use something like this.”
“But you can.”
“Yes. I am probably the only one who could.” She made a sour face—wet lips puckered out. “The only one who matters.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Assuming other wizards are still alive, there can’t be many. I would be the most capable.”
Riyun caught Javika’s squinted glare. There was no trust left in her for Tarlayn, and he was beginning to wonder just how personal the wizard was making this struggle. “Earlier, you said more people were showing up here for training, but when I asked you if Meriscoya had a problem with that, you were evasive. Did he have a problem with these other wizards?”
Tarlayn bowed her head. “There was a belief among many in our community that the energy we draw upon for our magic is finite. Meriscoya was troubled by the sudden appearance of all of these new wizards. They were adults rather than children, and they were showing up with greater access to power than most students.”
Adults. Showing up for training. Riyun turned to Naru and Quil, both of whom nodded. Riyun’s gut knotted. “Were any of these students Outworlders?”
“Most.”
Sapphire light flared for just a moment around the drone.
It was so absurd, yet it was also so…tragic. Beraga and his designers had created a world filled with magic and wonder to entice people into a game that apparently was meant to push away the misery and humdrum of a typical day, but in the process they had created a situation that doomed the game. Meriscoya was destined to become the destroyer of the world, and the people Beraga sent through to be wizards were the catalyst.
Hadn’t he seen the problem? Hadn’t he at least suspected? Why else would he have created the prophecy and the wizard who would fulfill it? Because Meriscoya had to have been created. The more Riyun thought about it, the more he saw just who the mad wizard was.
Which provoked another thought: Was Zabila one of the Outworlder wizards? Had the bag been in the dormitory because she had been one of the Outworlders Meriscoya resented?
It was a lead they would have to follow up on later. For now…
Riyun pushed up from his chair. “We’ve got some tasks to complete, people. Let’s get on it.”
He headed for the alchemist workshop, wishing he’d made more molds for the bullets. Boots thudded against the stone floor behind him. He didn’t have to turn to know it was Naru and Quil.
The hacker caught up to Riyun first. “That’s definitely her tablet.”
“And?”
“And it’s dead. Locked.”
“But hers.”
“Definitely. Hey, how’d you do that? Make that jump to the new wizards—”
“The new wizards being what caused Meriscoya to snap?” Riyun shrugged. “Do you think there’s a more obvious connection between a whole bunch of adults showing up as wizards and all these problems?”
“It could’ve been a change in the people. The prophecies could say there would be more wizards.”
“I guess. But it sure looks like a classic screw-up.”
“So, Beraga created this problem himself?”
“Feels that way to me.” If no one else was seeing it, Riyun wasn’t so sure he could count on his intuition. But it certainly felt right. It stunned him that no one else had seen what he’d seen when Meriscoya had shown up in the pool of their campsite.
Quil covered a yawn. “It makes sense. I am, however, concerned with Tarlayn’s desire to suppress this knowledge. And Alush behaved strangely when she finally acknowledged your point.”
Suppress didn’t seem to be the right word to Riyun. “Something’s up between those two.”
The pseudo’s head popped up. “Tarlayn and Alush? You suspect animosity?”
“A breach of trust, at the very least. The way she looks at him? The way he acts around her? Yeah, something’s wrong.”
They followed their leader into the alchemy chamber and helped him start the furnace, then ready all the gear to create the bullets. It didn’t take long for the small space to warm, and when it did, Quil began nodding off, finally settling at a table and resting his head on his arms, which he folded over the tabletop.<
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Riyun rubbed perspiration from his brow. “Quil, hit the rack.”
The pseudo didn’t budge.
Naru chuckled. “He must be wiped out.”
“Leave him. You up for this?”
The hacker bit her lip. “I’m willing to learn.”
“Good.”
With Naru’s help, Riyun had dozens of bullets prepared by afternoon. It was only about half of what they needed, but that was something. He left her to deal with the next round of work, confident in her now that she’d shown she was a quick study. She’d actually been doing that all along.
Fearless, smart… He had to get her home, but he also wondered if she might be convinced to join the squad once things returned to normal.
If they did.
In the kitchen, Symbra and Hirvok were preparing food for travel: slicing cheese and salted meat; wrapping pickle containers in towels; baking fresh bread loaves. The aromas hung tantalizingly in the hot air. Their sweat-dampened hair clung to their faces, and their T-shirts to their chests. Riyun imagined neither had ever known the challenges of working in a kitchen quite like the one they were in now. Stone walls, timbers running low overhead, pots and pans dangling from hooks, heavy tables cluttering much of the space.
It reminded him of home.
The sergeant tried to rub flour from the tip of his damp nose with the back of a hand white from the stuff but only managed to spread it over his cheek. “This is going to weigh us down, but I think everyone’s going to be happy finally eating real food.”
Riyun sneaked a pickled egg from a wooden bowl where the morsels were drying. “We can’t overdo it. Our digestive systems have grown used to nuts and berries.”
Symbra grimaced. “And smoked meat.”
“And I’ve lived in the field off a lot worse. We’ve still got some energy bars.”
“No. Please. I’m still constipated.”
Riyun hefted one of the towel-wrapped food packets. “This smells great. How much you think it weighs?”
Hirvok bowed his head. “Ten pounds, give or take.”
Ten pounds of their regular field rations would be enough for a week. The towels held enough for half that. “You’re right: I don’t think they’ll complain.”
“That really why you came here? Wanted to see what we were doing?”
“I wanted to see if we’d be ready to roll.” Riyun glanced at the entries into the banquet hall. They were alone. “Let’s say we go down into these catacombs. Let’s say we find what we’re looking for down there. How long do you think this Meriscoya would let us stay here once we have whatever it is that’s down there?”
Hirvok and Symbra exchanged a surprised glance, then the sergeant opened the oven door, and the young woman took a long baker’s peel from the corner to extract a loaf of bread. While she set it on a stone platter to cool, the sergeant toweled his hands clean. “You really think she has something valuable down there?”
“I think she believes it.”
“And you think Meriscoya knows about it?”
Riyun caught the way Symbra flinched. “Why don’t we ask Symbra what she thinks.”
The young woman sighed. “I’m guessing the lieutenant believes everything is connected.”
“Isn’t it?”
“I guess. The way they designed this place…”
Riyun confirmed that the banquet hall was still empty, then moved closer to the two. “I don’t think it’s just the magic that’s connected. I think there’s a connection between the wizards themselves. Or maybe it’s this prophet. Whichever one it is, once we know something, he knows something.”
Symbra’s mouth compressed into a frown. “It does seem odd. Those dragons could have attacked us before that quarry, but hitting us there…”
“Closer to the city, more likely to be spread out, almost certain to be drawn into the potential cover.”
Hirvok grunted. “That sounds weak, but all right. So we have to have everything ready to go before we head down there.”
Riyun finished off the pickled egg, then licked the tart juice from his fingers. “And we need our bags ready to bug out.”
“Two more loaves to go.”
“Good.”
After waking Lonar and Quil, Riyun returned to the alchemist chamber and put the two to work with Naru assembling rounds from casings and bullets. There weren’t any bullets for the tweak’s autocannon, so Lonar spent some time creating molds. They would have to assemble those rounds later. At least gunpowder wouldn’t be a problem.
Riyun hoped they might get a few more days in the Lyceum, but hope wasn’t the same as belief.
He left the three of them still working on the ammunition and searched for Javika. She was in her room, squeezing the last of her clothes into her backpack that was now stuffed with one of the food packets.
“That won’t be too heavy?” He smirked.
The Biwali warrior closed the pack and hefted it. “A worthwhile excess.”
“I’m assuming you talked to Hirvok?”
“I will have my backpack with me in the catacombs.”
“Probably the right thing to do. We should just assume that we’ll head out once we find…whatever.”
Javika held up her chest plate. “Your armor. We should see what we can do about the hole in your back.”
“It’s not a threat, not unless they have a really good sniper.”
“But the dent, it digs into your back.”
“A little. I’ll have Lonar see if a hammer can do anything to it. There’s an anvil in the shed off the alchemist workshop.”
She rapped against her chest plate. “This is all that stands against us and this wizard and his dragons.”
“I know. That’s why we’re going to see what Tarlayn has down in these catacombs.”
“I believe I have seen the way down.”
“I figured you were scouting this place out.”
“The more that is known, the fewer the surprises.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “I want you to stay close when we go down there. Don’t drift away. Don’t let them get between you and the rest of us.”
Her eyes drilled into his. “I will not let anything happen to you.”
“And I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Her mouth opened, but she turned away and took a towel to her armor, vigorously buffing it. “You should make ready. Delaying serves no purpose.”
He returned to his room and began his own preparations—cleaning his armor and weapons, then taking his backpack to the kitchen to gather a food packet. Once he had everything stowed, he returned to the alchemist workshop with his chest plate to see if Lonar could flatten out the back piece.
Riyun sent Naru and Quil off to prepare themselves, then headed into the courtyard, where the tweak was pounding on the plate. Each hammer stroke was like thunder.
Lonar twisted around. “It really is tough.”
“The Juggernaut’s as good as it gets. I spent five years of savings on it.”
“Savings, huh? I guess one day.”
“It wasn’t just savings. A client owed me. He got a big discount.”
“Still—”
“You need to plan for your future, Lonar. You’re a young man, but—”
The heavy weapons expert brought the hammer down in a rapid series of strikes. “I’m not worried about my future, Lieutenant. Not going to be one.”
“We’ll get out of here.”
“If you say so.”
“I’m telling you—we’re going home. We’ll find Zabila, and we’ll go home.”
After flipping the armor over to inspect it, the tweak looked up from beneath his heavy brow. “Dying here or dying on some Outer Sphere world, fighting for some Onath—what’s the difference?”
“Save up your money, and you can quit fighting those wars.”
The big man handed the armor to Riyun. “You think they’d ever let that happen? You think all those wealthy Silvers would ever let us Tu
os quit blowing each other to bits?”
“They don’t want war.” The words sounded hollow to Riyun.
“What would they ever do if everyone quit fighting for them? Wouldn’t they be afraid we’d turn against them?”
“I—”
Lonar set the hammer on top of the anvil with a ring of metal. “I’m not a smart guy, Lieutenant. I wasn’t built for thinking. But I’ll tell you what a place like this—” The big man nodded to the gray sky. “—looks like to me. It looks like the perfect way to get rid of trouble. Send your Migra Rutai and radicals out here, and they never come back.”
The sky is burning! “It’s a pretty elaborate way to get rid of terrorists.”
“We’re all terrorists. When we figure out what they’re doing to us, we’ll turn.”
The big man headed back into the building, leaving Riyun alone.
Were they all terrorists? Was it just a matter of people figuring out how hopelessly everything was stacked against them before they turned against the law?
Riyun hoped not.
He headed back to his room and shoved Lonar’s words aside. It would require thinking, piecing things together, maybe talking with Javika and Quil. For the moment, Riyun had his armor, once he replaced the padding.
There was a surprising comfort in putting it back on. It wasn’t just the sense of protection but the sense of familiarity in such strange surroundings. He hoped that Tarlayn was right, and whatever she’d found would be enough to end the threat posed by Meriscoya and his dragons.
But even with the crazed wizard dead, there was still the return home.
That was something Riyun owed his team. And it was something he was going to figure out, even if it killed him.
43
The sky was clear, and the moon was directly overhead when Tarlayn pronounced that she was finally ready to enter the catacombs. Riyun decided she could wait a few minutes longer and slipped out of the building through the cold hole that had been left in the western hall. There was a refreshing chill to the air, frigid enough that he trailed steam as he circled the outskirts of the Lyceum. His ears caught only the soft squeak of his boots on damp stone. He climbed the highest wall remnant to get a look at the city below. Sections of stone shone dully in the moonlight, and in other areas, pockets of something whiter stood out. It took a moment for him to realize what he was seeing: bones.