by Garry Spoor
“I trust them as far as I need to. What of Captain Dotol?”
“He advises no earlier than Saven’s day. With winter coming, the journey would be too dangerous. Besides, Elmac has already expressed his desire to postpone until they have more information.”
“He’s not likely to find any more information… but perhaps it’s for the best.”
“Oh, sir, there is one more thing?”
“What is it, Corporal?”
“The little bard. He has requested several times if he may see… her.”
“Yes… yes of course. Tell him he can see her tomorrow.”
“Thank you, sir, I’ll let him know.”
The leather boots returned, crossing the floor again to stand at her side. He made no sound, but she knew he was there. How long he remained, she couldn’t tell. Time had no meaning at the moment, there was only darkness and silence, and she welcomed both.
“Has she awaken?”
“Not yet… Oh, your highness, I’m sorry I… I didn’t…”
“Easy there, son. Be seated. It’s Alex, isn’t it?”
“Yes, your highness, Certified Level Five Hunter, Alex Bartlow of the Callor province.”
“Yes, I remember you now. You performed for me at Forthbar a few months back.”
“After the breaking of the siege.”
“Yes, it was quite enjoyable; you’re very talented.”
“Thank you, sir.”
A chair was moved and the leather boots crossed the floor. They paused as the man took a seat.
“Have you eaten yet?” he asked.
“Um… well… sort of. I mean, I… I did kinda score a few slices of bread from the kitchen.”
“Bread? Well, that’s hardly a meal for a savior of the realm.”
“Believe me, your highness, that’s better than some of the meals I’ve eaten.”
“Well, let it not be said that anyone goes hungry in Windfoil. You will be my guest this afternoon, and I will show you a proper meal.”
“Thank you, sir, but… I should really stay here.”
“Yes. Yes of course. I’ll have something sent then.”
“Thank you, sir. I wouldn’t worry sir; it’s happened before, you know.”
“What has?”
“Her, being like this, it… it happened before, back at the Academy.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
“Well, there really isn’t much to tell. It was just after she led all the horses out of a burning barn.”
“Burning barn?”
“Yeah. Eric Rimes, you know, the son of Lord Rimes, he stole some things from the great hall before setting it on fire, then he tried to burn down the stables, to cover his escape. Luke, he was the stablehand back at the Academy, he couldn’t get all the horses out, so Kile ran into the burning barn to save them.”
“And how did she do that?”
“Well, I don’t really know, but they all followed her out. Including my own horse, who doesn’t even obey me. After the horses were clear of the fire, she just… collapsed. We took her to the halls, and she slept for like five days before she woke up.”
“So, you think this is the same?”
“Oh, I couldn’t really say, sir. I don’t know much about it. If Danny were here, he could probably tell you more, but it was our mystic who treated her back then.”
“Your mystic?”
“Yeah, sir. His name was Morgan, he was our mystic instructor back at the Academy. If anyone would understand, he would.”
“Then I will definitely send for him.”
“But they’ve locked themselves within the Tower and nobody can get in to see them.”
“There are advantages to being the King. I’ll send a message this afternoon. I believe there are still a few Hunters in Azintar who could deliver it quickly.”
“I’m sure there are, sir.”
“So, you’re saying this is similar to what happened back at the Academy.”
“Well, sort of. I mean the passing out thing, yeah. But the kicking and biting, that was… kinda new.”
“And where is she?”
“This way… sir.”
The door opened, chairs moved and something which sounded like a flapping flag crossed by the foot of her bed.
“Morgan?” Alex shouted. The sound of a chair being upended punctuated Alex’s surprise at seeing his old mystic arts instructor.
“Hunter Bartlow, isn’t it?”
There was a familiar voice.
“Ah, yeah… I’m kinda surprised you remembered.”
“It’s hard to forget the only cadet who tried to bluff his way through the mystic evaluation.”
“Oh, yeah… about that…”
“It is of no concern now. Besides, you passed, didn’t you?”
“Well, yeah, I guess.”
“Oh yes, before I forget. I have a… message for you.”
“For me.”
“From one, Emara Lons.”
“From Emara?”
“Ah, yes, here it is. I was instructed to bring this to you.”
“Sorry, sir.”
There was the sound of someone opening an envelope, followed by Alex laughing. He quickly caught himself.
“I’ll…”
“Yes… go… read it.” Morgan said with a dismissive tone.
Small, light feet moved swiftly across the floor. The door opened, but was closed quickly. Something jumped on the bed beside her and made its way up to her pillow. It was small and furry.
“I’m sorry about that, your highness.”
“Think nothing of it, master Morgan. Ah, to be young once again.”
“I prefer not to remember my youth. So, how long has she been like this?”
“About three days now.”
“And how did it happen?”
“We’re not exactly sure. We received word of a possible attack from the Lutmorli pass. The Rojan have been agitated as of late. When the company reached the pass, they found young Bartlow. And he led them to Miss Veller.”
“I see, and was she in this state when they reached her?”
“Not quite. The reports say she was incoherent, sort of in and out. When the men went to help her, she… attacked them.”
“Attacked them? Are you sure?”
“One man suffered a few broken ribs from where she kicked him, and a second soldier was bitten on the arm. After that, they said she tried to… hop away.”
“Hop… away?”
“Yes, Master Morgan. That is how they described it. After that, she just collapsed. They brought her here as quickly as possible.”
“I see. Have there been any strange… incidences, since she’s been like this?”
“Incidences, I don’t think I quite understand…”
“Anything out of the ordinary, anything which may be contributed to mystic energy. A floating orb or things bursting into flame, maybe even animals acting strangely or… you know… things out of the ordinary.”
“No, not that I’m aware of.”
“Good… good, that’s good to hear. You can leave now.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You can leave. Your presence here is no longer necessary.”
“My presence? Master Morgan, I have no intention of leaving…”
“Your highness, I understand your feelings toward the young lady, I really do.”
“My feelings… now wait one moment…”
“But if I’m to do a thorough examination, I must ask you to leave.”
“A thorough…”
“Yes, a thorough examination.”
“Oh… yes of course. I’ll leave you to it. If there is anything that I can get you…”
“No, just leave. I will let you know of my findings.”
The soft leather boot moved across the floor once gain. The door was opened and there was a long delay before it closed, followed by a few minutes of silence.
“You might as well open your eyes, child. I know you’re f
aking it.”
Kile opened her eyes and looked over at Morgan. The old mystic hadn’t changed much, since the last time she’d seen him. He was still draped in his yellow robes, with his wired rimmed glasses perched on his long crooked nose. He studied her with a quizzical look.
“Your bedside manner has improved,” she said as she tried to sit up. “And for the record, I wasn’t always faking.”
Vesper climbed up on her shoulder and she stroked the yarrow’s head.
“No, I didn’t think you were.” Morgan replied. “Not until I came in.”
“It’s complicated.”
“I see.” The mystic said, removing his glasses. He started to clean the lens with the cuff of his robe. “Could this have anything to do with the King’s feelings toward you?”
“Absolutely not. There is nothing there.” she shouted, and then asked, a little more quietly. “Why, what have you heard?”
Morgan laughed. “Let us just say your friend, Mr. Bartlow, has been keeping our young Emara up on the local events.”
“Wonderful, I can only imagine what he’s been telling her.”
“I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. Simple gossip, I suppose. But enough about that. How are you feeling?”
“Like I’m slowly losing my mind, or maybe I’ve already lost it.”
“You seem quite lucid at the moment.”
“You heard what they said. I kick one soldier, bit another and then I tried to… hop away. That’s not exactly the actions of sane person.”
“No, this is true. Do you remember any of it?”
“Well, not exactly. I mean. I don’t remember fighting with soldiers, but I do remember…”
“Yes?”
“I remember being a rabbit,” she admitted, but saying it out loud didn’t make is any more real, it only made it more embarrassing, and it didn’t help when Morgan gave her that look.
“A rabbit?” he asked.
“I know, I know, I sound insane,” she replied.
“Let us put aside the insanity label for now, and tell me what happened.”
“It’s the Maligar, it’s not what we thought it was.”
“I know you are not very fond of that particular skill, but with all power…”
“That’s just it, it’s not just a skill. It’s alive.”
“Alive? I don’t understand.”
“Neither did I at first, but the more I’ve used it, the more entangled with it I’ve become. I’ve seen it. It’s been calling to me, from the dark places of the world. I can hear it.”
“Can you hear it now?”
Kile closed her eyes and listened. Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, on the very edge of her senses, she could hear the whispering, and the laughter.
“Yes,” she replied. “It’s far away, but it’s still there, it’s still calling. And I’m not the only one who hears it. Vesper hears it too, so does Grim.”
Getting up from his chair, Morgan started to pace the floor. He looked worried. Kile knew it was never a good sign when a mystic looked worried.
“Why do I have a feeling this isn’t entirely new to you?” she asked.
“Because it’s not. The Maligar is a perversion of nature, of the natural world.”
“You knew this? You knew this and you made me use it.”
“No, you have to understand, Kile. This skill you have, it is unique. Even the Alva, who were supposedly gifted with these abilities, never showed the same level you have. You are Orceen, but you know that already, don’t you?”
“I’ve come to accept it, yes.”
“We don’t know much about them, I’m afraid. About the only thing we could say for sure, is that they were here. Ever since Erin Silvia, told me about your… feral episodes, I have spent my time trying to find out as much about the Orceen as I could, but there is very little information. Most of it was lost with the Alva. They had a closer relationship with the Orceen than we did.”
“Then what have you found out. You did find something out… didn’t you?”
“As a matter of fact, I did, at least I think I did. You see, the Maligar wasn’t simply a means of controlling animals, it was meant for much more than that. It was a merging of mind, body and soul, a form of meditation, if you will. It was the highest level of consciousness the Orceen could achieve with the natural world. And, from that connection, they took away… something, but they also left something behind.”
“What did they take away and what did they leave behind?”
“I’m afraid only the Orceen knew for certain. Not even the Alva, who learned so much from them, could make that connection. There were some scattered texts about them inheriting traits from animals they connected with, whether that refers to the Maligar, I simply don’t know. As to what they left behind…”
“Their sanity,” Kile added.
“I doubt it.” Morgan replied.
“Is that it?” she asked.
“Well, there were a few other bits and pieces I was able to pull together.” Morgan said, finally returning to his seat. “There was quite a bit that just didn’t make sense, I just assumed most of it was symbolic. Worlds beyond worlds, realms beyond realms, a collective consciousness and even something about a world tree, but as I said, most of it was just symbolic.”
World tree? Worlds beyond words? Was that where she was, in a world beyond a world? The idea of actually being somewhere and not being somewhere was a bit too much to handle at the moment.
“So, I’m losing myself to this… Maligar. Is that what you are trying to say?”
“But that’s just it, you shouldn’t be.” Morgan replied, leaning back in his chair. He sighed and shook his head. “There is just no way of telling until we understand what the Maligar is, and, more importantly, what it is doing to you.”
“And how do we do that?” she asked.
“We perform a few experiments.”
“Experiments? What kind of experiments?”
Kile wasn’t sure she liked the idea of deliberately poking the Maligar to gauge its reaction. She had come too close to losing herself, what if she wasn’t able to find her way back.
“I can assure you, the experiments will be safe,” Morgan said, clearly seeing the concern on her face.
“How can you be so sure?” she asked. “You haven’t seen what effect it has on me.”
“We will take every precaution to assure your safety, as well as my own.” Morgan replied. “We can conduct the experiments in the Tower. With the other mystics, we can pretty much keep any destruction to a minimum.”
Wonderful, that was the last place she wanted to go back to.
“Why would you do this for me?” she asked.
Morgan shrugged. “For a number of reasons. First off, there’s the search for knowledge. You may hold a key to our understanding of the natural world we would never be able to find anywhere else, not to mention a better understanding of the Orceen race. Then, of course, you are still my student. As long as you are a Hunter and I am a Mystic, we have that bond. But, I suppose, when it comes down to it, I have grown rather fond of you, child.”
Well, that wasn’t what she expected.
“So, when do we start?”
***~~~***
30
Getting started right away was not much of an option. There were several obstacles which needed to be dealt with first. Morgan still needed to get permission from the department heads, although he really didn’t think that was going to be a problem. Emara was coming into her own and was taking on more responsibilities at the Tower, something Kile found hard to believe. She hadn’t earned her Grand Magus title yet, but many of the mystics had started deferring to her judgment. She had already expressed an interest in helping Kile in any way she could, which only made things more awkward. But, Kile had her own issues to sort out. For starters, she was still in the employment of the King’s Command, and would have to answer for her little excursion into the wastelands without permission. Tha
t they were successful and even managed to prevent a second front to the war, should go in her favor, assuming those kinds of things add up. She would also have to speak with Master Latherby, or Colonel Barshed, to request a leave of absence, but she didn’t think that was going to be a problem. Wasn’t it Master Latherby who suggested she seek out the mystics?
Fortunately, she didn’t have to go all the way back to Forthbar, or even to Azintar to speak to him, since he was on his way to Windfoil, or at least Colonel Barshed was.
The truth was, she was in no hurry to go anywhere. Windfoil offered her a moment of peace where she could collect her thoughts. It was a quiet, simple place, or it would be if it wasn’t for the servants. She had nothing against the servants personally, but ever since she “woke up” they haven’t given her a moment’s peace. If it wasn’t the nonay coming into her room every three minutes trying to bathe her, clothe her, do her hair or paint her face, it was the cook trying to feed her everything in the kitchen, or the Hall boy watching her every movement. The worst offender was a man by the name of Cenfus, who had been appointed her personal assistant. He seemed a pleasant enough man if he didn’t keep rolling his eyes or clicking his tongue every time she did something he deemed to be too common. The way she walked, the way she talked, the way she dressed was never proper for a young lady. He wouldn’t even let her go to the stables to visit the horses or sit with the dogs in the kennel. When she found Windfoil’s library, he would comment about the books she wanted to read, calling them inappropriate. If he wanted to read the romance novels, he was more than welcome to do so, she found them rather boring and unrealistic.
After two days of Cunfus’s constant scrutiny, she was at her wit’s end and spent most of her time trying to avoid him. That’s how she found her way into the gardens. With winter coming down from the mountains, the gardens weren’t their festive, colorful self, and most of the guests at Windfoil avoided them for the warmer rooms inside the keep. That was fine with her because it meant more space for her to spread out.
She had managed to sneak out of her room with a warm blanket, two guard dogs and a stack of books she secretly removed from the library. She was curled up with the two dogs on the blanket, and halfway through a book on the political structure of the Balaa Empire when she caught the scent of roses, old parchment and just a hint of jasmine soap.