The Path of Dreams (The Tome of Law Book 2)

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The Path of Dreams (The Tome of Law Book 2) Page 47

by Matthew W. Harrill


  “I have encountered it twice. Once in the forest home of the tribe we now seek to defend, and then when we were fleeing. It was only the forest spirit that saved us from it, and that was severely damaged when the focus that was its core was attacked.”

  “I am sorry, for that we had no choice. It was focus or die.” This new voice was one they did not recognise.

  “See? It is easy.” Obrett's thoughts were directed at another. “My students let me introduce Brendan of the Earth guild in Nejait. He was held captive with me after he was compelled to focus on the forest.”

  All three murmured greetings to this unknown spirit they could sense in the infinity of the world that until now had been out of sight.

  “Can you contact us again now that you have found us, master?” Belyn asked. “It is just that we are working on something. We think that we may have found a way to translocate more than just still items from places we know well. We are on the verge of being able to translocate ourselves.”

  “Interesting,” came the reply. “Tell you what, why don't you follow me back to where I am. That way you will be able to contact me. Follow me, and try to keep up.”

  The three wizards sensed more than saw the luminous form of their master take off and shoot into the sky as he recalled to wherever this tower was. They followed in much the same manner, but their tenuous grip on the reality was limited by the focus that intervened. It acted like a barrier of sorts, and several times Obrett had to slow to wait for them. Still, they all felt the rush of soaring over mountains and plains until they saw from their unique perspectives the tower as it truly was, and not the ruin.

  “This is where I will be should you need me. The reality I have entered is a place that does not need a stone in order to focus, and I will be able to see you coming as clearly as if you were an albatross in the morning sky. Now tell me what you have been up to, for you have heard enough of an old man's news to last a lifetime.”

  The three younger wizards relayed their story to a fascinated Obrett. The journey towards the forest, the focus that washed over them and their encounter with the tribe. They went into great detail about their experiences in the cavern. When Keldron spoke of the Tome of Law, Obrett went quiet.

  “What is it, master?” Keldron asked.

  “I think that you may have given me a clue as to what is going on around here. You are not the only one after this tome. The watchers here and the Witch Finder are after it at the least, unless I miss my guess.”

  “You are not sure?”

  “There are things that these watchers will not tell me, and when I was held captive, Garias Gibden revealed as much to me in his rantings. You lot must be careful. There are some seriously powerful people after this tome. People we should all be wary of, if not worried about them. But anyway, pray continue if you please.”

  The story continued, the escape from the beautiful bowl-valley and the splitting of the tribe. Keldron's escape northwards and his narrow escapes from the army. The focus wall he threw up, which produced a sense of awe from his mentor. The eventual meeting of them all in Fallmar Pass, and their consequent journey across Ciaharr. The impalings featured heavily, especially when they reached the village. Obrett lamented with them over the needless deaths of an entire village, but when they revealed the forces that had been released, he became fearful.

  “What did you conclude from that event?” He asked them.

  “Something big is going to be released. That or a store of energy is being saved up.”

  “What if I told you that the Witch Finder knows of this reality, and is trying to permanently puncture a hole between the two?”

  “That would give him an unlimited amount of power,” Belyn thought worriedly. “How close is he to succeeding?”

  “I think that he is a way off yet, but the atrocities he is committing in order to build up power will give him a tremendous advantage. For some reason the Tome of Law is the key to things. If he gets it, he will be able to unleash hell.”

  “We will have to prevent him then.” Raoul was adamant. “We are close to Caighgard, and we hope to find a key to this whole mess in the temple there. The heads of our order have hopefully erred by sending us up here.”

  “Good luck finding the temple then, my students. I have heard it was lost a long time ago, but do not let that put you off. Be steadfast in your enquiries. Do not let anything disrupt your resolve. Is there anything that I can do for you?”

  “Master, you could contact the tribesmen for us. They are on the central plains of Ciaharr dispersed in villages as they seek to hold off the mercenaries, with mixed results. We can see them, but not speak to them. If there were a way we can focus to them, we would learn of it. They have a much more difficult job then we do.”

  “I will speak to them if I can find them,” Obrett promised. “Fare you well, my students. I am so very proud of you, and my heart is gladdened to find you hale and good of heart. You know where I am if you need me.”

  The three wizards left their master in the tower, and flew back over the magical landscape to the ship on which they were sailing. Opening his eyes, Keldron found similar looks of relief on the faces of his two companions. He did not realise until now how much they had missed the reassuring presence of their mentor. The three of them sat there on the deck, revelling in the experience they had just had. Raoul looked down at his stone, while Belyn was content to sit and stare out at the sea. Keldron still had his eyes closed.

  “Are you back with us, Kel?” Raoul asked his friend.

  “Just think of the possibilities in a world where magic was free and unlimited.” Keldron kept his eyes closed, but it was clear that he was addressing them both. “Just think of the wonders we could achieve.”

  “I would rather not,” Belyn replied. “Enticing as it is, can you seriously imagine a world where magic was restricted by nothing? Can you imagine the mess we would be in? Limitless magic available for any purpose?”

  Keldron opened his eyes and stared at Belyn, not saying a word.

  “My friend, can you seriously tell me that a world where anybody can do anything would be a good one?” Belyn continued. “How would you police it? There would be anarchy. Complete, total and unrestrained anarchy. It would mean the end of law.”

  “The end of the Old Law?” Raoul looked astonished to even be hearing such a thing.

  “The end of any law,” was Belyn's dark reply. “Imagine what it would be like. Anybody could reach up and cast a focus, training or not. All they have to do is have imagination enough to comprehend, and the will to make it happen. Intent goes out of the window. Innocence becomes lost in the annals of history. Greed and power would become the new currency. Those who can, do. Those who can't become conquered on a scale never before seen.”

  “But we can, and therefore we could do,” countered Raoul.

  At that statement, Keldron shook his head. “That is exactly the point, old friend. Who are we to say that our intentions are the right ones?” As Raoul began to retort, Keldron continued. “We all have good intentions as we are. However, think about this. Are our intentions good because of what we have been compelled to do, or because they are what we should do?”

  “That sounds like the same thing,” Raoul finally said.

  “No, they aren't. On the one hand, we know that we have been told to search out this temple but for no good reason than somebody wanted us out of the way. On the other, we know that we might find answers to our questions there, and therefore we seek to help those around us that would benefit. How do we know that they are the only ones to benefit?”

  Raoul looked from one of his friends to the other, and then back again. “What are you talking about, Kel?”

  “I think what our esteemed brother is trying to get across is the somewhat jumbled though that although we are seeking to do this despite all that was said to us by the order, they may have sent us on this errand with a purpose in mind. We must be very careful when we get to Rhothamy. All might
not be as it seems.”

  As the others got up to resume their duties, Raoul sat for a moment longer as he considered all that had transpired in a matter of moments. To be given a glimpse into the ultimate gift and to have it taken away by his own reasoning and logic was a bittersweet blow. He could hear Belyn already discussing with Keldron the theory that each stone was not for a different mindset, but that the properties of each allowed a different aspect of exposure to the alternate reality. That the focus stones were now looked at as the more important part of the process was somewhat disconcerting. He had always thought that the person was what mattered most. He realised as he was thinking this that he was right, in a way. The person was still the initiator, and it was their intentions that ruled the overall objective. Nothing had really changed, just perceptions of what was essentially still the same. The sooner they got to the distant isle, the sooner they could hunt for clues that might unravel the whole thing.

  * * *

  Blood dripped, falling in a crimson descent to the floor with the wet noise of a thick liquid. Not quite a drop, and not quite a splat. The former guard was unrecognisable. His face had been beaten to a bloody pulp, any features rearranged and left broken by his former master. The young man had endured mind-numbing agony for the mistake of deserting his post outside the prison cells, and had hidden in the city as the riots were quelled, skirting from hovel to hovel. Then the guard had found him as he attempted to leave Raessa. He had never known how they had found him, and now he never would. He struggled to lift his head, for he could see his mother beyond the light, beckoning him towards her. That smile he had remembered since childhood was all he knew of comfort and love. He moved to the light, forgoing the bloody mass that was his body, and with the gurgle of blood-filled lungs the body gave up its place in the world. It settled to the floor, and grew rapidly cold on the chilly cobbles beneath.

  Garias kicked the offending corpse in the ribs. “Damn him for dying. He did not suffer nearly enough.”

  Caldar looked on in fascination, his crooked old body hunched up beneath robes that did little to keep the chill out of his bones. “Would that one could being the dead back to life, then one could kill them again.”

  Garias glared at the Law wizard. “Why don't you try and find a way to do that? It might mean that you and your precious guild are finally of some use to me.”

  Caldar shrugged, dismissing the ire. “Our time will come, and when you find the Tome of Law you will need our aid.”

  “So you keep saying.” Garias raised a finger in warning. “You had better hope that I do, for a worse fate than this awaits you if you are wrong.” The threat failed to intimidate Caldar, and that wound Garias up more than the ineffectual 'questioning' of the sap that let his prize captive get away. He could see now that the real power and skill in the Law guild had lain with Obrett. These clowns postured and made out that they were knowledgeable in the Old Law, but they were politicians. Those types he had dealt with before, and harshly so. Their time would come. If they lacked use, then they would suffer to the end of time.

  “With the riots long-ago quelled and the focus back to normal, you can once again resume the search.” Caldar offered by way of compensation, that being a poor veil for changing the subject. Garias was about to mention as much when Caldar continued. “Why concentrate your search for just the one man? It is true that he is the head of the snake, but there are other ways to catch it.”

  “Go on.” His curiosity now piqued, Garias was suddenly eager to listen. He stepped out of the way of the rivulet of blood striking a line for his feet.

  “Well you have been after Obrett as the primary source of information. He would not know of where exactly his students have gone, but I can tell you where they are planning to end up.”

  “Go on.” Garias stared at the man, impatient for a clue that would lead him towards the Tome.

  “Their destination is Caighgard. We banished them to the island to repair and resurrect the ancient Temple of Law.”

  “And you think that they will go there?”

  “We know so. They might not have gone there directly, but that will be their eventual goal. If nothing else, the three simpletons will do what they are told.”

  Garias stared at the man with flat eyes, not believing that he had granted any sort of boon the man. “And what do you suggest that we do to find them?”

  “There are only three places that they could cross to the island. Ulecio, Leallyra and Bays Point. I am sure that you know of somebody that can look in these places to find out whether they have passed.”

  What Caldar was implying was that he knew of the spies that Garias had in place across the West. How he knew was something he would have to be questioned about at a later date. “You have a point,” Garias conceded, “and you are very well informed.”

  “One does what one can,” Caldar said with heavy obeisance, and the very act churned Garias' stomach. This man was a source of focussing, and nothing more. He would learn that soon enough. He waved the fawning wizard away, and left the lifeless husk that bled on the cobbles to his servants. At times of stress, he was most eased by his tower and the feeling he got from sitting with a glass of wine. It helped him to think and he needed that now. Hurrying back to his lair, he ordered that Armen be sent to him. Once back there he poured a goblet of Ardican red and gazed out upon the ruined outer city. It had taken extreme violence to make the peasants obey his soldiers, so strong was the focus that compelled them. He cursed the day that he had been released of his ability to focus, the day that he had created the massive compulsion. It had been a bittersweet blow to create a spell that protected him, guaranteed him slaves and sources of magic from the cursed tribes to the North but at the same time robbed him of any ability to concentrate his mind and focus. It was like a barrier. Every time he tried his mind was swept away in a tide of dizziness. In the end he had come to despise focussing to the point that he could not touch even a stone. The disgust had come to rule him, and even though he accepted this fact readily, still he wanted rid of it. “One day I will use the Tome of Law to rewrite everything that is. It shall be formed anew, all mine to control and the girl will serve me and call me master.”

  “And she will relish every moment.” Garias turned in a rare moment of surprise. Had it been anybody else, he would have ordered them thrown from the window, but he knew that Armen shared his view to the point of zeal. His advisor and the false Witch Finder, Armen would forever have the look of a chained maniac, with his bulging eyes and grimacing smile.

  “I have a task for you.”

  “You have but to name it, master.” Armen did not bow, would not bow to every statement. Unlike the fawning wizards who believed themselves to be paramount to his plans, Armen undertook every task with the same dedication, the same thoroughness that had brought him to the attention of Garias in the first place. A common slave, he showed initiative and prospects beyond his station when dealing with rivals. It had been the Golem sniffing around that had caught him in the process of strangling a superior, the fear and pain drawing the Golem like a bloodhound. From that point on, Garias had confided in the man, something he had never done before. Now he trusted Armen with both his personality and his spies. “Send word to look for the three renegade wizards and report on their movements. You can get accurate descriptions from those pathetic Law cronies, if they have the brains left to do more than normal bodily functions. Try Caldar. He seems to detest them, that should leave a pretty accurate imprint of their faces in his mind.” Negative emotions were always ambrosia to him. He would choose a person full of hate over one at peace every time. Peaceful happy people were hazy and indistinct, but hateful people remembered every little detail. Vengeance was a powerful tool and for some reason he had not bothered to ask about, Caldar needed to exact revenge on the three of them. Armen knew his job, and left Garias to contemplate his plans. He was drinking and mulling for quite a while before he was disturbed once again by Armen. Instead of the usual zeal
and fanaticism, this time his face was filled with glee and cunning. “What is it?” he asked.

  “We have word, master. Several guilds have heard your offers and seek to join you.”

  Garias rubbed his hands together ecstatically and poured two goblets of wine. “Tell me more.” As Armen sat down opposite, Garias was filled with the rarest of emotions, excitement. The tide had just turned.

  * * *

  Ispen glared out at the sky that was gradually turning pink with the first slivers of morning light. He hated waiting here. It was against his nature to hide from an enemy and yet he had no other choice. Jacob had submitted to Obrett's recommendation quite willingly, and they had felt the moment when evil washed over them like a tide that had never touched this part of the world. That had been nearly two days now; two days when they could have been closer to their city, two days that may have seen them encounter somebody that could aid them. But instead they waited. What chafed him even more than the saddle sores was the fact that they were only a couple of leagues away from the tower. They could have ridden out under cover of darkness but for the treacherous footing. Ispen was all for riding out in the day but Jacob was being stubborn. He insisted that they wait it out. As if on cue, Jacob stirred back in the cave. It had proved a surprising boon that the cave opened out into a chamber where subterranean water still flowed. They had rations enough to survive, but water was always a problem. The horses stamped impatiently, echoing Ispen's feelings. They knew that something was up with the human that stood by the entrance night and day.

  “Still nothing?” The wizard of the Life Order asked as he stretched muscles cramped from sleeping on a hard floor.

  “The evil has not passed over us again, therefore I maintain that the Witch Finder's creature is in another part of the world.” Ispen shifted his position against the wall, trying to get a better view of the sky without exposing himself.

 

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