A Manifold of Bindings (The Scrolls of Azbel Book 2)

by John Mangold

  “As I said before,” Kym replied, his attention still on Nia. “I had to follow all possible leads. It would not take a genius to realize that the two of you had jumped the rails. Any ferd would have chosen that route straight out of the door. If I hadn’t at least inspected the train heading north, I would have drawn suspicion to myself, and I could do the two of you no good sitting in a military brig. Appearances had to be maintained. I am sorry if that caused you trouble, but I did everything I could, given the circumstances, and those are getting worse by the day.

  “You may not realize this, but war is stirring. That little massacre on the border has touched off a feud brewing between Enox and Camilos for years, and it looks like you are going to get the credit. You were the last one to see either city standing, and you are a foreigner. Given your felonious past in your own country, you are the ideal scapegoat. If the Prime Minister gets his hands on you, he will make sure you pay in full whether you ran up the bill or not. That is unless I could give them some other target to lay the blame on. I don’t suppose that you can enlighten me on any new details, some detail I could hand my commander to draw their intentions elsewhere?”

  “Sergeant,” Maluem replied. “All I can tell you is that both cities were quiet and peaceful when I crossed that river. I witnessed nothing to tell me differently since then, save the storm I already reported.”

  “Well, as true as your words might be, they won’t carry much weight with the high command,” Kym replied. “As far as they are concerned, you are their villain, and they will see you swing, guilty or otherwise. We had best get you across the border tonight. I know it is a bit risky for Shelia, but it would be far worse to have you wait. It won’t be long before my regiment sends re-enforcements to aid in your capture. If you are still here when they arrive, I will be powerless to stop them.”

  “Why are you helping me?” Maluem persisted. “If I am wanted as badly as you say I am, then my capture would be quite a feather in your cap. Why let me escape your grasp so willingly?”

  “Nia trusts you,” Kym replied flatly. “Recommendations don’t come any higher than that, in my experience. If she was willing to risk so much in aiding your flight, then I know you are clean. However, innocent or not, your neck will be in a noose if we don’t get you across that border before daybreak. I suggest we spend less time gabbing and more time packing. That is unless you enjoy paying for the sins of others.”

  21.

  Awkward Transitions

  If they were to take the most logical route, it would have taken more time to pack than it would for them to reach the border, being a scant few miles from the main crossing. However, this route would be carefully guarded, even under normal circumstances. With war on the horizon, not to mention the ongoing search for Maluem, the border was enjoying even tighter security than usual.

  Fortunately, Shelia and Torrez had not crossed by legal means themselves, so they were able to lead the group to the passage they once used, leading through the eastern mountain range running along the Tartan Sea. It was an hour’s drive in the Bounce Buggies, but Maluem welcomed the journey. It gave her a bit of time to consider all that would transpire once she crossed out of Enox and into Santilis, and the recent crossing of the Entwhistles was chiefly on her mind.

  Watching the lanterns on the front of the B.B. behind them, Maluem decided it was a good time to clarify a few things between her and her new Acolytes.

  “Torrez, are you absolutely certain you wish to follow where I am leading?” She asked as he navigated the B.B. along the narrow trail. “If I am not mistaken, you and your wife only recently left Santilis under less than comfortable conditions.”

  “You mean, we were chased out, right?” Torrez corrected.

  “Precisely,” Maluem agreed. “So, admitting that, why would you be so eager to follow me back into the very demon’s den that you so barely escaped the first time? Don’t you feel this is a bit of a risk for the two of you? I am certain you could find a competent master in Camilos who could teach you just as well as me. That would undoubtedly be a safer course to follow.”

  “Well, I think we both know that getting across the Camilos border is going to be a bit tricky now, thanks to whoever wiped out those two towns down south,” Torrez answered. “Wars make illegal border crossings more challenging. Furthermore, since our jailbreak in Wenton, I have a feeling they will be keeping an eager eye out for all of us, on both sides of the river.”

  “Yes, but you could sneak across into Camilos, just as we are attempting to enter Santilis now,” Maluem protested. “You have no warrants for your arrest in my home nation. With a little instruction from me, you could easily blend into the sparse populace of the Camilos wilds. That won’t be the case where we are headed. You have a record up there, a history that the local law will be more than eager to put to a close, I would think.”

  “Maluem, we know Santilis as well as you know Camilos,” Shelia put in from the passenger seat. “Since Nia removed our enhancements, it will be much harder for anyone to track us, let alone realize who we once were. If we stay clear of any nobility and don’t practice our arts in the public eye, we should be quite safe. To your average Santilis citizen, we will just be two Slates from down south.”

  “Not casting in public is a good point,” Torrez chimed in. “It is among many rules that you will not know. Rules that, if broken, will land you behind bars quickly. Trust me, Maluem, you are not ready for what Santilis holds in store for you. Not by a long shot.”

  “A Curious remark to make to your master,” Maluem replied. “But let us suppose you are right. Let us assume that I am completely unprepared for what awaits me. I still do not see how your presence will go so unnoticed in a land of such advanced knowledge. At the minimum, I would expect that your faces would be pasted in enough public places that attention will be bound to follow us. Do you not feel that this could be an unreasonable risk for all of us?”

  Torrez shot Shelia a knowing glance, which elicited a small chuckle from his wife.

  “Maluem, just as we must trust you as our master, you must trust us on the knowledge of Santilis. Posted pictures are not the tools used to find fugitives in our home country. Their methods are more invasive. We simply need to make sure we don’t give the Santilis Police a reason to use them. Don’t worry about us, Maluem. The risk for you is far greater than ours. We will follow your teachings on magic. We only ask that you follow our leads on blending into our home country.”

  “Yes, well, to that end, I suppose I should keep this out of view as much as possible after we cross,” Maluem replied, admiring the new staff lying across her lap. “But it is a shame to hide away a device as beautiful as this.”

  Torrez had truly outdone himself. The craftsmanship was exquisite, if rather utilitarian. The outside casing was of black metal with a smooth reflective surface, forged in a lattice that encompassed the Urendite Crystal core, like a steel spider web. It protected and supported the Green Chemical Crystal while still allowing Maluem to easily touch the core’s irregular surface.

  As Maluem caressed the crystal’s organic surface, she attempted to pull a slight amount of energy from its mystic depths. The result was exhilarating, feeling the rush of drawing from an almost limitless well of spiritual force. She knew that this was but the first piece of her focus, yet the possibilities of this initial step alone boggled her imagination. If the staff alone could augment her abilities so considerably, what could she possibly do to improve it?

  The ride suddenly became rough, and once she looked up, Maluem realized that they were approaching the edge of the border. From what she could see, they had entered what was once a military outpost. It had clearly fallen into disuse, with some areas appearing to have been demolished to prevent misuse. A great chasm made up the far border of the neglected compound, one which undoubtedly marked the path of the two country’s shared border.

  A massive bridge's skeletal remains still spanned this gap, but someone had once taken gre
at pains to destroy the link. All their efforts had obviously gone to naught, as some rather industrious smugglers had since converted the ruins into a rather ingenious draw bridge. With the link withdrawn, the structure looked utterly useless. However, once a complex set of wheels and chains were activated, extending a gangplank of wood and steel, the bridge was once more functional to light wheeled traffic. It was a true testament to the ingenuity of the devious.

  Shortly after their arrival, Torrez and Sergeant Mitchell became embroiled in a boisterous debate. It seemed the Sergeant had intentions of reporting this newfound smuggling route to his superiors. It was not hard to imagine why Torrez might find that a bit unjust, considering the couple had made use of it previously and were the ones to lead the Sergeant to its whereabouts. As Shelia moved to join the fray on her husband’s side, Maluem silently vanished into a nearby wood line.

  Once she had gotten a reasonable distance away, Maluem stopped at a clearing with the yawning chasm before her. Slowly she reached into her greatcoat and produced the collar she recovered from the Bounty Hunters in Camilos. Maluem turned her eyes to consider it. She knew that crossing the border with this device could cause horrific consequences for the soul inhabiting it unless she made the right decision now before that critical step was taken.

  Maluem reviewed the possibilities Torrez outlined earlier. The most chilling of the lot was the device seizing, locking Volo’s spirit within forever. She could not imagine such a fate. To be permanently entombed within a cell where there was no possible hope of escape, not even through death. Maluem’s mind turned to Taelir’s fevered rantings. Could Volo end up like that thing in her vision? Driven mad from seclusion within an inescapable cell? She could not bear the thought.

  As she considered the collar's intricate surface, she began to realize that she really had no choice at all. It was her actions that had brought this condition upon Volo. She could not let her further inaction condemn his future to something far worse. There was only one correct path she could follow. She should release him.

  Maluem knew this would mean Volo’s death, but by any rational thought, he died the moment the Leviathan devoured his body. By pressing a simple button, Maluem would release his soul to join his fellow spirits. It was the most compassionate course of action, even if it meant losing one of the only friends she ever had, whose touch once calmed the demons within her. But this could not be about her. This was about Volo, and Maluem would not fail him again.

  Closing her eyes tight while taking a deep breath, Maluem positioned her thumb over the small release button on the collar. The final arguments against her chosen course flickered through her mind, suffering silent deaths at the hands of reason. This was the only choice she knew it. She only prayed that he would think well of her, wherever he was going.

  “Goodbye, Volo. I will never forget you,” Maluem whispered as a tear escaped her eye.

  Pressing the button down hard, Maluem unconsciously held her breath. The collar grew hot for a moment, and she could perceive its fierce glow even with her eyes closed. Then the light was gone, the collar growing cold in her grip. Maluem could feel tears stream down her cheeks.

  Letting the collar slip from her fingers, Maluem used her free hand to wipe her eyes clean as she struggled to contain the sobs within her. As she glanced around to verify she was still alone, she noticed a peculiar detail. Her staff was suddenly pulsing with a glorious radiance.

  It took her but a pulse to put together what had just transpired, but her mind was still unready to accept it. Sensing a presence behind her, Maluem slowly turned to find herself staring into the eyes of Volo Jinn. For a pulse, she did not know what to say, what to feel. Once again, she had prepared herself for the death of a cherished friend, only to find him reincarnated before her. Maluem knew she should be ecstatic to see her friend standing before her, but her frazzled emotions had other plans.

  “Volo, what have you done?” Maluem demanded. “I just made a noble sacrifice for you, and this is how you react! Can you not see I am trying to free you from your torment? Do you not understand what I am attempting to spare you from?”

  “Your companionship is not quite up to torment, but it is close,” Volo replied with a smile. “When your company becomes too much to bear, or your Focus becomes a prison to me, then I will leave. Until that time, you are stuck with me.”

  Maluem fixed him with a hard, cold stare. She wanted very much to hate him and to tell him so, but she could not bring herself to utter the words. She simply could not maintain her outrage in the face of the one friend she could not afford to lose. But what truly diffused her anger was a facet of Volo’s appearance that she had not noticed before. Suddenly, it was all Maluem could do to restrain her laughter.

  “Volo, there is something about your current form-” Maluem began, turning her head quickly to avert her gaze.

  “Yes, isn’t it wonderful? I can retain energy so much better now that I am in a pure crystal. What did they call it, Urendite? This stuff is marvelous! I can really breathe again!”

  “Yes, very…impressive. But I think you should rethink your attire a bit-” Maluem tried again, a blush beginning to color her features.

  “I can also project myself so much more clearly now,” Volo exclaimed. “I wish I could explain how this feels. My entire being is a conduit of pure energy! I feel like I could cast every spell I know and not even break a sweat!

  “Yes, well, I am sure it feels quite…liberating,” Maluem attempted again. “But Volo, a bit of discretion might be in order here-”

  “What are you talking about?” Volo interrupted before laughing. “I have never felt so alive, so free! My old incantations seem so simplistic now, so elementary. I will have to start developing original ones. Hey, perhaps I could modify that Flame Elemental spell to-”

  “Volo,” Maluem broke in, risking a brief glare at him before averting her eyes once more. “There is something you must address before any of that.”

  “What is it?” Volo demanded, vexed at Maluem’s constant interruptions.

  “You are naked!” Maluem shouted. “I suggest you begin your spell experimentations by seeing if you cannot conjure yourself up some manner of attire.”

  “I’m what?” Volo gasped, looking down at his own projection in sudden horror. Maluem was right. He was as naked as the day he was born with not a stitch of clothing to be seen.

  “Volo, I do believe you just blushed,” Maluem managed through restrained laughter. “That is a true accomplishment for a mere apparition!”

  “Hilarious, Maluem,” Volo fumed as he struggled to cover himself with just his hands. “You could have told me sooner! How long were you planning on letting me blather on?”

  “Well, you were so enjoying that feeling of, how did you phrase it, freedom,” Maluem replied. “Who was I to stifle your new-found enthusiasm?”

  “I am beginning to rethink how tolerable you are,” Volo fumed. “Instead of laughing so much, you could help me come up with some sort of clothing spell. You are a Sorcerer, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, keep your trousers on,” Maluem, almost falling into yet another fit of laughter. “I mean…never mind. Volo, there is no additional spell required. You only need to exercise more control over the projection you cast. Begin by concentrating on your appearance when we arrived at the river. Picture in your mind every stitch of clothing you were wearing, as though you were describing them to a tailor.”

  “What, do you mean I just need to think about them? Don’t I need some sort of incantation or something?” Volo persisted.

  “Volo, if you wish to tour the planet of Azbel, displaying your naked form to all who care to view, that is your business. However, I will not be incarcerated for associating with a felonious pervert. So, to project yourself in the manner of a civilized human being, you need only do as I am instructing. Simply envision yourself wearing some combination of clothes, or sack, or a tarp if it suits you. Just accomplish this soon if you please. I am getting
tired of staring at the indigenous fauna.”

  “There, I think I got it…” Volo spoke out, at last, sounding more than a little unsure of himself.

  Turning to face Volo once more, Maluem found him dressed much as he had been when they first met. His Brown robe with the hood pulled back to reveal his thick brown hair, a boiled leather breastplate just visible under the neckline, rugged laborer’s pants, and heavy work boots on his feet. She was impressed. Then again, she did not remember Volo’s robe being quite so well fitted, his trousers being armored, or his boots having the extra reinforcing metal on the toes. It seemed his mind’s eye had made some improvements on the originals, not that she disapproved.

  “Now,” Maluem managed after repressing a final giggle. “We will have to alter your attire when we cross the border. Something tells me they will not dress as we did in Camilos. However, that is something we can work on as we go. If you can restrain yourself from any more displays of ‘naked’ aggression, we should be able to avoid any undue attention.”

  “Maluem, I said it before, and I’m repeating it now, you really have a twisted sense of humor.”

  ***

  Parting company with Nia and Kym proved to take longer than Maluem had anticipated. The least trouble of all was dealing with the long goodbyes between Nia and the Entwhistles. Obviously, the three had bonded a great deal since Torrez and Shelia first entered Enox. Breaking those ties was more of an ordeal than Maluem had foreseen.

  Still, the parting showed some signs of progress, right up until Volo made his appearance. In the Sergeant’s mind, Volo remained a viable suspect in what had become known as the Ortus Bordertown Slaughter, and the rest of the party had only seen Volo in his flame apparition form. As the conversation quickly heated up, Maluem gave up all hope of a speedy exit.

  “Kym, Volo had as much to do with the destruction at the border as I did!” Maluem shouted.