* * * * *
His knuckles were bleeding, his voice hoarse, and his mind on the verge of a complete breakdown; but he continued to knock. He had been trapped in the library all night and most of the morning. His discovery had come around dawn—he assumed—and he was eager to tell his King, so he had spent the rest of the time banging on the hard wood. With the library so far away and surrounded in stone, no one heard anything, let alone came out to see what it was.
Kalinies laid his left arm on the door, forehead upon his hand while his right fist crashed against the wood over and over. He had given up now, only leaning against the door, trying to keep his wits about him—weary from sleeplessness and research. He rapped his bloody fist against it one last time, then finally slid to the floor where two books lay, now content to simply wait.
The boredom made it seem like hours but it was only half that when he heard the barricade on the other side. Not knowing if it was the King or simply someone to use the room, he gathered both books and stood, composing himself. The daylight peered through the crack, the sudden change seared his eyes and jolted his mind. He took an abrupt step back, both to escape the illuminating punishment and allow whomever it was entry. Though tired, Kalinies still found the strength to kneel without collapsing. On the other side a man with long black hair, a scarred face, a scowl, and beady black eyes wracked with wrinkles stepped through, “My King.”
“Tell me I did not leave you here in vain.”
“No Sire. I have found two bits of information,” the Wizard spoke quite loudly, trying to talk over the grumbling in his stomach.
“I’m waiting.”
“Of course, my Liege,” his fingers searched through the book, he hummed and muttered before finally finding the chapter he was looking for. “Valaira did not garner her name from the plague.”
“What?”
“She was the plague Sire. She was moving from town to town, draining them of life. She’s not a magick user, at least not in the true sense. It’s based simply on the dark arts; but in order to maintain her power she needs to sap energy from those around her.”
“Go on.”
Kalinies seemed eager, his mouth trying to catch up with his mind. “However, her magick does not last. Where as I can study and practice to increase my power, using hers causes it to fade. She needs to revitalize herself or she weakens. If Valaira was in a position where she was forced to use a fair amount—and where she could not regain what she had lost—we may be able to get past her magick long enough to kill her.”
Idimus thought back to the forest and the bolt that had no affect on her, “I trust you saw what I did in Sharia. And how little the crossbow did to her. Is it possible to kill her with conventional weapons?”
The Wizard knelt down, placing one book upon the ground and picking up the other, “Fate…”
“Fate?”
“Yes Sire,” again Kalinies held back his words to read, this time he pressed to nearly the end of the book. “It says here: armed with Fate, it was Trestys the Holy who lay the fatal blow to Valaira. As a desperate bid to save her life she pulled the essence from him. However, Fate was too powerful and that day both Hero and Sinner fell.”
“How do you know it is not just speaking of the term fate?”
Kalinies turned the book around and held it in front of the King, “Because it’s capitalized.”
“Fine. What is Fate then?”
Kalinies’ face grew grave and disturbed, his gaze falling to the floor, “The book does not say.”
“Meaning you do not know,” Idimus’ stare grew cold and hard like the rocks in his kingdom.
“No Sire,” came the response as Idimus moved back towards the door. Kalinies had to resist the urge to cling to him like a scared child, knowing the King was about to lock him inside again. “Please Lord, at least let me eat.”
Idimus looked down at the ravaged hand of Kalinies, “Perhaps if you had spent time reading instead of knocking you would have discovered the answer.” The Wizard bowed his head as the King withdrew, “Find it,” was the last order Kalinies heard, then the sound of the barricade falling. The Wizard flickered with a sudden overwhelming urge to set the door ablaze, but knew how furious Idimus would be. Grudgingly he went back to the shelf and picked up where he left off.
In A Time Of Darkness Page 71