Grishel's Feather

by Guy Antibes

  He sat up and thumbed through his wizardry manual, but couldn’t find a thing about a power-draining spell. How would such a thing work? Jack tried to come up with a solution to the issue, but this spell was too dangerous to duplicate. He could end up burning his power out, he thought. Maybe he would ask Fasher about it when he returned to Raker Falls.

  Jack could feel that his power had returned when he woke up in the morning. After running to the refectory to grab some breakfast, Rucco and he sat down at the room where he met with the abbot and proceeded to spend an hour charging twenty wooden rods.

  Torlo walked in with the abbot. “Finished?”

  “I am,” Jack said as he rose. “You can test these, and then we will be on our way.”

  The abbot touched each rod and nodded. “I still can’t believe you can create these.”

  He presented Jack with his letter of introduction. Nothing seemed to imperil them, so he handed it to Rucco.

  “I can’t see why this won’t work,” Jack said.

  Rucco examined it and nodded. He folded it up and put it in a small folio that he carried. “Unless the Ullori monk has spoiled the entire society, this should be sufficient to let us in.” He rose and bowed to the abbot. “Thank you, sir.”

  The abbot bowed back. “I can’t wish you luck, but I wish you no harm,” the man said.

  With that, they left the abbey to head back the way they had come. Rucco took them south at a crossroads, and they soon entered an area where every section of flat land was under cultivation.

  “We are close to the cavern,” Rucco said. “It might be more impressive if you wore your armor.”

  Not to mention safer, Jack thought.

  ~

  Jack had expected a cave entrance to look like a simple hole in the mountain rock. The Black Finger Society in Passoran had made their cavern into a work of art. It started with two rows of topiary on either side of the road mostly shaped in hands in various poses.

  As they rode further, grassy areas created a park-like atmosphere. Jack hadn’t expected the Black Finger Society to be so interested in aesthetics.

  They turned a corner, and Jack looked up at the side of a mountain. Windows of all shapes and sizes were punched through the rock. He could see where walls and columns supported the rock. The work was stunning. They rode toward a gated opening more than twenty feet high and just as wide, by Jack’s reckoning.

  “This is amazing!” Penny said. “It’s like a building made out of the mountain.”

  Rucco smiled. “The Black Finger Society didn’t make this. It had been a center for Grishel studies for four hundred years. The researchers had done all they could, and the population dwindled, so we bought it from them.”

  “I would think people would travel to look at this,” Jack said.

  “It isn’t publicized. It is hard enough to live here without people coming to gawk.”

  “I’m sort of glad to be able to gawk,” Helen said, looking up at the facade.

  “It isn’t as nice inside,” Rucco admitted. “You’ll see. First, we have to get through the door.”

  As they approached the doors, six people wearing the black caps Jack had seen Black Fingers wear before in other countries, ran out to stand in a line. He guessed the gate wasn’t open or closed very often.

  “Your business?” one of the two women in the group asked.

  “I am Rucco Simmia and have returned from visiting my father. These are travelers who would like to talk to the head.”

  “What is the head?” Jack leaned over to ask.

  “That is our leader’s title,” Rucco said out of the side of his mouth.

  Jack nodded.

  “We have brought a letter of recommendation from the abbot of the Grishelian abbey.” Rucco leaned over and handed their permission letter over to the woman.

  She must have read every single character of the message before she nodded and stepped aside. “The outsiders will need to be accompanied.” She looked to the side and made a sign with her hand and arm. Another guard brought a horse which she mounted.

  “I will join you. Another set of visitors arrived yesterday. I hope you don’t upset the order in the cavern as much as they have. They mentioned that you might be following. The letter mentioned them, as you know. Follow me.”

  Rucco rode up to the woman’s side, adjusting his gloves. They were deep in conversation while they entered the dark confines of Grishel’s Cavern. They didn’t travel very far before magical torches lit the way. If this was what Rucco said about not being as nice inside, Jack could relate. The fanciness of the exterior wasn’t carried through to the interior. There were openings in the dwellings lining the street, but Jack noticed none of them had any glass. Why would they need that under a rocky roof?

  Jack looked around, trying to see how the Black Finger Society used magic to live, but other than the torches, he didn’t even feel much magic being used in the air. He felt the power within churches, and even in the abbey church, much more deeply than in the cavern. Maybe other places harbored more power. It didn’t feel as though Grishel had spent any time in the cavern, at least not recently.

  They trotted through lanes in the darkness. Jack was a bit uneasy about the constant nighttime aspect of the place. They stopped in a tiny square and looked up at the lit facade of a three-story edifice. Only half of it was built out from the rock, so Jack couldn’t exactly think of it as a building.

  “Our headquarters,” the woman said, turning back to address them. “Horses can stay in the cavern for a limited time and then are transferred to a stable outside. You may tie them up with mine.”

  Jack hadn’t thought about keeping animals in the eternal night. He didn’t think any living thing would like spending all their time underneath the vaulted rock ceiling.

  “It’s creepy.” Jack heard Carlo say to Barria.

  “Dark, for sure,” the sister answered.

  He looked forward and kept his mouth shut as Rucco and their escort walked up steps carved out of the mountain. Jack walked just behind them. Rucco only had the knife at his side as a weapon, but Jack had to remind himself that the man was among friends. He was home, and Jack was far from his.

  The torches were a bit closer together inside the building, and they made the interior brighter. Woven rush carpets on the stone floor muffled their shoes. They were shown into a meeting room. Jack was getting used to being shuffled into a room and then waiting for people to see them. Rucco and their escort left them alone.

  “I still think this place is creepy,” Carlo said. “If I stepped out of this building, I still wouldn’t know which way to go.”

  “There are enough people to show you the way,” Helen said. “Remember, we aren’t their enemy, and we were treated civilly at the abbey.”

  A man walked in, black fingers evident on the tips of his hands. He was older, but his eyes seemed sharper than most. He sat down.

  “My name is Garolla. I am head of this Black Finger chapter.” He turned to Rucco and the woman and used his head to urge them to sit, as well. “You represent a bit of a challenge for us. There is a monk who has won distinction among his kind who thinks you all should be put to death.”

  “Is that what you usually do with visitors?” Helen asked.

  That brought a smile to the head’s face. “Not at all. We are evaluating his story and his motives, as we are about to do the same for you. Rucco Simmia says you mean us no harm, yet you wish to deprive us of a holy relic.”

  “Borrow,” Jack said. “Deprive you for a very limited time. I seek an antidote to the magical sickness my mentor and others have contracted.”

  “There are a few magical sicknesses in the world. The power it would take to cast such a spell is unbelievable. I don’t know any person living who could do such a thing.”

  “Could a god create the spell, perhaps?” Jack asked. Eldora’s spell that saved Gameton from the Black Fingers had to be in the same category.

  Garolla chuckled. �
��Who knows what gods can do, but they don’t involve themselves in worldly affairs. If such a thing occurred, the god would have to work through a human. But I speculate. Your mentor must be wrong.”

  “Fasher is a powerful healing wizard. He wouldn’t be mistaken about such a thing.”

  “I still am not inclined to let a relic out of the cavern.”

  Jack kept silent rather than refute that comment. He wondered if Fasher really did get the illness misdiagnosed. Did gods invade other worshippers’ territories? Jack had no idea. “Does Grishel’s Feather have the power to heal a spell like that?”

  “It is reputed to do so, but the way the feather is supposed to work is that it drains all magical power from a person. That is how the spell disappears.”

  “But what about women? I heard that women can use the feather.”

  Garolla shrugged. “I can’t answer that. I don’t think anyone knows. I have run across the rumor in some of the texts that the previous inhabitants of the cavern left behind, and they had never found out.”

  Jack shook his head. “So even if we have the feather, we don’t know if it will work?”

  “Another reason not to let you have it,” the head said. “We have another problem. Three Grishelian monks have challenged you as heretics. Heresy is a serious charge.”

  “But we haven’t done anything heretical,” Penny said. “You can’t charge every visitor from another country with heresy.”

  “We can do anything we want,” Garolla said. “Anything.”

  That statement was more like the Black Finger Society members Jack was familiar with.

  “Will you lend us the feather?” Jack finally asked.

  “I’m not inclined to do so. The heresy charge will have to be judged before I can make a decision. Don’t think about riding out of here. Your horses have been removed, and your bags have gone to rooms we have prepared for you. There is only one way out of the cavern, so testing my patience with any attempt to escape will not help your case.”

  Jack nodded as did the others. Rucco shrugged. “I got you here,” their former guide said.

  Jack had to admit that he had lost control of their situation, and now they were stuck for some trial. They would have to leave with the feather, but the friendly approach didn’t look like it would work. Black Fingers seemed to be the same after all.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  ~

  J ack woke in the dark, but then he remembered that he was in a room in the cavern. Carlo and Jack shared a room. The three women were in another. After trying the door and finding it locked, Jack stared at the door and wondered if he should explore. It was tempting, but he didn’t know who was on the other side, and the Black Fingers had taken away their armor and weapons. Jack still wore his Eldoran bracers, so there was magic if he needed it, but at present, he couldn’t afford to mess things up, so he spelled a flameless light and sat at the small table in the room.

  After removing the shield in his mind, he sought out Penny.

  “How are you three doing?” he asked.

  Penny’s comment was a jumble of thoughts. “You didn’t have to wake me up,” she eventually said. “Waiting is what we’ve been talking about. That and wondering if we will get a fair hearing. Barria is the most afraid. I’m next, and then there is Helen. She isn’t afraid of anything.”

  “It isn’t time to be afraid, yet. If they intended on killing us, we’d already be dead or fighting for our lives. I can only hope Rucco has been allowed to tell our side of the story to Head Garolla. I think it is morning.”

  “It must be, since Helen is up as well,” Penny said. “Don’t keep us in the dark.”

  “Is that a joke I just heard?” Jack asked.

  “No, but it would have been a good one, I guess, right?” Penny said.

  “It would be.” Jack put his mental shield back in place. That was as decent a conversation with Penny as he could expect. He thought about returning to bed, but he heard footsteps echoing out in the hall.

  Someone fumbled with the latch, and the door opened after a perfunctory knock.

  “Head Garolla wants to see all of you,” the Black Finger said. Jack didn’t know if he was a guard or if he represented the head. Their incarceration was that casual.

  “Can we be fed?” Carlo asked, standing up.

  “After the meeting,” the guard said. “Follow me.”

  The group picked up the three women, and Jack found himself in the same meeting room. Breakfast was served to them, and they all ate everything on their plates, even Penny, after a little coaxing from Helen.

  The door opened when they were finished. Addio Barumi, Ferrio Lorina, and Myra Pulini walked in and sat opposite from Jack’s group. Head Garolla, two aides, and Rucco took seats at the far ends of the table.

  Jack immediately noticed the three ex-clerics now sported black fingers. Ferrio smiled and waved his fingers before pointing to them to make sure that Jack noticed. Ferrio didn’t need to do that. All three of them looked smug. Jack glanced at his companions. None of them looked happy.

  “Now that all the parties are here, we may begin the hearing,” Head Garolla said. “Member Addio, you may speak first.”

  Jack didn’t like the man before, and with black fingers, Addio was insufferable. Most of what he said were lies, but Jack didn’t know how he would refute them. Ferrio and Myra had already proven what good prevaricators they were. Head Garolla seemed to hang on every word Addio said. In fact, as Jack looked around the table, even his friends nodded at the false statements. Helen wasn’t wearing her ring and Penny had removed her earrings.

  That made Jack sigh. Addio was using a Fourth Manipulation persuasion spell. He was sure of it. What could he do to counteract it? No wonder Addio though he would walk into Grishel’s Cavern and take over. Jack wished he had Eldora’s warded box or even the Serpent’s Orb. Perhaps he could overcome the ex-prior with power.

  But then Jack had an idea. What if his clean spell not only cured the Black Finger conversion spell, but any spell’s effect? What if it was like Grishel’s Feather in that regard? What did he have to lose?

  As Addio was finishing, Jack gathered power and spoke the trigger word. “Clean!” he said.

  The effect was stunning. His group rubbed their foreheads, but the rest nearly passed out.

  “What have you done?” Garolla said. He looked at the smudge on his fingers. “How did you do that?”

  “It is a general purpose spell I have used a few times in my life. It cleanses spells. You can get your black fingers back, but think of what Addio told you. He spouted obvious falsehoods about us, yet you took it all in and agreed.”

  Garolla furrowed his brow. “You are right. I believed you, Addio. I can see now that you were manipulating my mind.”

  The ex-claustral prior stood up. His chair screeched as he did so, and the others caught on to what he was doing and glared at him.

  Addio stared at his fingers. “You shouldn’t be able to do that.”

  “Shouldn’t be able to do what?” Jack asked. “People tell me that all the time after I’ve done something.”

  “Erase my black fingers all you want,” Addio said. “I joined voluntarily.”

  “As did all the Passoranian Black Fingers,” Garolla said.

  “I was saying, the boy murdered my guards in cold blood in the middle of the night. A wizard bolt through the head. It was only due to our sleeping apart that we saved ourselves.”

  Rucco shook his head. “I talked to witnesses of all six deaths. What Addio says isn’t true. Jack fairly fought the men. Although a wizard bolt against a sword is hardly a fair fight, he was outnumbered and saved the lives of his friends. The woman and the eagle priest weren’t around the village. The Ullori monk lies.”

  Garolla rubbed his forehead. “It appears he does more than lie, and that means we can’t believe his companions’ stories either. What shall we do?”

  Jack should have been encouraged by Garolla’s conclusion, but
the head’s question at the end wasn’t delivered to encourage.

  “Feed them and take them back to their cells,” Garolla said. “I’m not certain if we should let any of them go.”

  “But we told you the truth!” Penny said.

  Garolla looked at the wizard’s apprentice with lidded eyes. “Sometimes the truth is not enough, my dear.” He turned to the guards and jerked his head.

  Rucco looked shocked. Jack hoped he truly was, but every one of his group looked stunned. Why would anyone trust a Black Finger? Jack wouldn’t ever again. Rucco was the exception where Garolla was the rule. The monks at the abbey seemed benign, but perhaps that was what allowed them to practice Grishel worship and still associate themselves with the Black Fingers.

  “The boy stays,” Garolla said as guards ushered everyone else out.

  The head and Jack looked across the table at each other.

  “Are you practicing an illusion right now?” Garolla asked.

  Jack shook his head. “I don’t know how.”

  Garolla peered closely at his fingers. “The black is gone. I still feel like a Black Finger.”

  “You still are,” Jack said. “If you were coerced, you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

  Garolla leaned back and gazed at Jack. “And when did you cleanse coerced Black Finger Society members before.”

  “In Lajia,” Jack said. He didn’t want to admit to his work against the Black Fingers in Tesoria. “I was on another errand for my master, and along the way, we were put under a Black Finger coercion spell. I am guessing, but my being a helper gives me resistance to the conversion. I was able to rub off the black and stumbled onto the spell that cleansed my fellow travelers. We were able to escape and go on our way.”

  “Why did the Lajian Black Fingers hold you captive?”

  “They were after my objects of power. That is an obsession for the Lajian Black Fingers.”

  “Your sword and your knife?” Garolla asked.

  In his present situation, Jack had to be more careful with his attitude and his language than he had ever been. “There was another, but I left that behind in Raker Falls,” Jack said. “I am truthful with you.” He was speaking of Takia’s Cup in his mind. Jack knew he was lying, but he was telling partial truth, which was better than a full fabrication.