by Unknown
With that, Kalibar left the room. Kyle got out of bed, closing his bedroom door and doing as Kalibar had ordered. Then he turned to the bed, thinking to make it, but then decided against it...no doubt Jenkins would see to it. He went to his small bathroom, walking up to the sink. There was a faucet just like on Earth, with knobs for hold and cold water. He splashed water on his face, then wet his hair, finding a comb in a drawer and combing his hair quickly. Then he ran out of the room and into the living room. Kalibar was already there, dressed in his usual black clothes, his goatee neatly trimmed.
"Come on," Kalibar prompted. "Darius is waiting outside of the Tower." He strode toward the front door of the suite, and Kyle followed behind, stepping into the hallway. Two armored guards stood on either side of the door, saluting Kalibar as he passed, then falling into step behind him. Kalibar led Kyle and his guards down the hallway to the riser, which dropped them with unnerving speed to the ground floor. The hallway and lobby beyond were nearly deserted given the early hour. Their footsteps echoed through the huge lobby as they made their way to the front double-doors. The guards opened the doors for Kalibar, and the former Grand Weaver led Kyle outside.
There, parked in front of the double-doors, was Kalibar's carriage. The side doors were already open, and Darius was perched atop the driver's seat. Rain poured from the sky, pattering on the cobblestones at their feet.
"That will be all, thank you," Kalibar told the two guards. They both saluted, then walked back into the Tower, the double-doors closing behind them. Kalibar gestured for Kyle to hop in the carriage, then walked around to the other side, getting in himself. Kyle got in, sitting down on the now-familiar seat cushions. Kalibar slid open the small window between them and Darius.
"Let's go," he ordered.
With a snap of the reins, the carriage jolted forward, turning down the wide road leading away from the Great Tower. The campus and road were lit by tall, elegantly tapered black street lamps with softly glowing white globes on top. The lamps cast the wide expanses of manicured lawns in a pale, ghostly light. They passed the dormitories, making their way after several minutes to the front gate of the Secula Magna. Darius stopped the carriage there, and an armored guard ran out to greet them. This time, however, they merely opened the gate, waving Darius through. The carriage moved forward, leaving the Secula Magna behind.
Kyle yawned, stretching his arms to the sides, then glanced at Kalibar. The former Grand Weaver was staring out of the rear window of the carriage silently. Kyle followed his gaze, seeing nothing but the gate receding into the distance. Lightning flashed in the sky, followed by the low rumble of thunder.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I'm checking to see if we're being followed," Kalibar replied. Kyle's eyes widened, and he turned to look out of the rear of the carriage again, peering into the darkness.
"Are we?" he asked, feeling suddenly uneasy.
"Not that I can tell," Kalibar replied. "But we have to assume we will be."
"What?"
"Orik will want to make sure I'm leaving," Kalibar explained. "And he'll need to know where I'm going if he attempts to have me killed again."
"I don't see anyone following us," Kyle countered. Kalibar shrugged.
"I'm one of the most recognizable people in the Empire," he explained. "And the two guards outside my room, the guards at the gate, and anyone who sees us riding through the city will know that I'm leaving...and the direction we're going."
"Why didn't we just fly out of the Tower then?" Kyle asked. After all, if they'd flown out of one of the windows in Kalibar's suite, no one would have seen them leave.
"The only way out of the Secula Magna is through the front gate," Kalibar explained. "We'd never be able to get past the Gate shield."
"Oh, right."
"Don't worry," Kalibar said, patting Kyle's knee. "Erasmus let me borrow some Ancient wards from the Archives." He smiled reassuringly. "I can defeat anyone Orik sends to hurt us...and our wards will make sure we're safe when we sleep."
"Okay," Kyle mumbled, hardly feeling reassured. Kalibar chuckled.
"I won't let anyone hurt you," he insisted.
"I don't want anyone hurting you," Kyle countered. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you." The thought of being alone here without the old man to help him was terrifying.
"Oh, you'd still have Darius," Kalibar replied with a wicked grin. Kyle rolled his eyes.
"Great," he muttered. He glanced through the small sliding window at the bodyguard's golden back, remembering how Darius had acted at the gate to the Secula Magna a few days ago. "Why do you put up with him, anyway?"
"That's a good question," Kalibar admitted. He sighed then. "I suppose it's out of respect for an old friend." He turned away from Kyle, staring out of the side window for a long moment...so long, in fact, that Kyle assumed he'd finished speaking. Then he cleared his throat. "When I was still a young man – not much older than you – I was studying to be a Weaver at the Secula Magna," he stated. "It is customary that a student be matched with a mentor at that age, and I had the great fortune of being matched with a man named Marcus."
The carriage made a rather sharp turn as it wove through the city streets, throwing Kyle against his side door. Kalibar didn't so much as budge.
"Marcus was the finest man I have ever met," Kalibar explained. "He taught me the importance of virtue, of self-reflection." He gave a rueful smile. "I've spent my entire life since trying to emulate him, I suppose."
"What does he have to do with Darius?" Kyle asked.
"Well," Kalibar answered, "...he hired Darius about a decade ago, I think. Darius must have made quite an impression. After the first attempt on my life a few weeks ago, I flew to Marcus's house – he lived a few miles away – to ask for advice."
"What'd he say?"
"He said to hire Darius," Kalibar replied.
"Oh," Kyle mumbled. Then he shook his head. "I don't get it."
"Neither did I," Kalibar admitted. "I still don't," he added. "But it hardly mattered...Darius refused to come with me."
"Wait, what?" Kyle blurted out. Kalibar chuckled.
"Only at first," he corrected. "Three days later, Darius arrived – unannounced – at my doorstep, as charming and talkative as he is now. When I sent a letter asking Marcus why Darius had changed his mind, he wrote two sentences. One was: 'Infinite patience will bring you infinite rewards.'”
Kalibar became silent then, staring off into the distance.
“What did the other sentence say?” Kyle asked.
“Hmm?” Kalibar replied, turning back to Kyle. “Oh. It said: Until we meet again, Kalibar.'” Kalibar turned to look out his window again. “But Marcus died that day.”
“Sorry,” Kyle mumbled.
“Oh, it's alright,” Kalibar stated. “It wasn't totally unexpected,” he added. “The man lived an unusually long life. Darius accompanied me to his funeral. It was...” he began, then swallowed with some difficulty. “It was very hard for me. He'd been more of a father to me than my own father.” He shook his head. “I only wish I could have sat with him when he died.”
Kalibar fell silent then, and Kyle glanced out of his own window, spotting the familiar stone walls of the huge building Kalibar had pointed out earlier – Stridon Penitentiary. Then he heard Kalibar clear his throat.
“Anyway, Darius has been with me ever since,” the old man stated. “He refused to sign a contract, saying his word and mine were enough. And he hasn't said much else since,” he added wryly.
“Fintan said Darius asked for a lot of money,” Kyle said. “And that he was a coward,” he added quietly, glancing at the sliding glass door between them and Darius. It was closed, of course.
“Actually, he asked for a minuscule salary,” Kalibar corrected. “And as to the latter, well...it's human nature to magnify the faults of our enemies and the virtues of our friends.” He yawned. “In any case, don't put too much trust in the beliefs of others. A belief isn't
any truer just because it's felt strongly. In fact, the opposite is more often true.”
“So he's not a coward?” Kyle asked.
“I've never seen him put to the test,” Kalibar admitted. “But I trust my mentor. I suppose it's out of respect for Marcus that I ignore Darius's mannerisms.” He smirked. “Besides, one of the first things I learned when I started ruling the Empire was that it's far better to hire a competent ass than a kind fool."
Kalibar fell silent then, and Kyle turned back to his window, watching the buildings pass by. The streets were still deserted, allowing their carriage to speed through the city unimpeded. Kyle twisted around to look out of the rear window, ignoring the twinge in his back as he did so. Again, there was only an empty street behind them. He turned forward, glancing at Kalibar.
“So we're going to Crescent Lake?” he asked. Kalibar nodded. “Where's that?”
“East of Stridon,” Kalibar answered. “About one-and-a-half days from here by carriage. No road goes all the way there, not anymore.”
“Why not?”
“It was deserted a long time ago,” Kalibar replied. “The roads became overgrown by forest, and no one knows it even exists...not even Orik.”
“How do you know about it?” Kyle pressed.
“I'm much better-read than Orik,” Kalibar answered with a smirk. “The lake can still be found on antique maps, but not on current ones," he continued. "Only Erasmus and I know about it...and maybe a few old cartographers and historians."
“Why are we going there?” Kyle asked. "I thought you said we were going to be followed anyway."
"True," Kalibar replied. "No need to make it too easy for them. Besides, it's a beautiful, peaceful place...a perfect place to teach you how to use magic."
He twisted around in his seat then, reaching back into the trunk. After rummaging around for a bit, he retrieved a small book with red and brown binding, then sat back to read it. Kyle realized that the conversation was over...and right when it had started to get interesting.
I'm going to learn magic!
He stared out of the window, barely noticing the buildings passing by. It was the stuff of his wildest daydreams, to have extraordinary powers...to be able to fly, to wield fire with a single thought! He closed his eyes, imaging himself lifting a flowing stream into the air with his mind, just as Kalibar had earlier.
The carriage jolted suddenly, snapping Kyle out of his reverie. He realized that they'd reached the long, wide bridge that spanned the Great River. The carriage angled upward as they made their way across the beginning of its gentle arc, and Kyle glanced out of the rear window, spotting Stridon's skyline in the distance, barely visible in the darkness. But the Great Tower's pyramidal peak glowed brightly against the inky blackness. He had a sudden, powerful sense of déjà-vu. He pushed the feeling aside, turning back to Kalibar.
“Can I start learning magic now?” Kyle asked eagerly. Kalibar glanced up from his book.
“No," he answered. "When you first start learning, you need to have absolutely no distractions. We'll wait until we reach Crescent Lake.”
Kyle nodded, doing his best not to look disappointed. He kicked himself for asking the question in the first place; if he seemed too eager to learn, Kalibar might end up not wanting to teach him magic at all. That was how older people were, for some reason Kyle didn't understand. Kalibar twisted around again, grabbed something else from the trunk of the carriage. It was a small white pillow.
"Here, try to get some rest," he urged, handing Kyle the pillow. Kyle placed it behind his head, laying back on it. He sighed, turning to look out of his window again. Huge fields of tall golden grass extended far into the distance, with tall, rocky hills rising upward beyond, blacking out the stars. Kyle yawned, suddenly exhausted. He'd only gotten a few hours of sleep, after all...no wonder that he was so tired. He closed his eyes, snuggling into the soft pillow. And with that, he fell asleep.
* * *
Kyle opened his eyes, squinting against the sunlight. He stretched his arms out wide, then glanced to his left, expecting to see Kalibar sitting there beside him in the carriage. But Kalibar's seat was empty. He frowned, realizing that the carriage had stopped. He sat forward, feeling a twinge in his neck. The pillow Kalibar had given him earlier was nowhere to be seen either. Kyle yawned, looking out of his window, and saw Kalibar and Darius standing outside at the side of the road, munching on some pieces of bread. Kyle opened the carriage door, easing himself to the ground. He walked up to the two men, rubbing his sore neck with one hand. Darius didn't bother to greet Kyle, mutely handing him a piece of bread and a warm cup of soup.
"Thanks," Kyle mumbled, biting into the bread. He immediately regretted it – the bread was as hard as a rock! He rubbed the side of his jaw gingerly, doing his best to ignore Darius's amused smirk, and glanced at Kalibar. The old man was dipping his bread into his soup before eating it. Kyle did the same, waiting a few moments before testing the bread. It was softer this time, although still chewy. He ripped off a piece with his teeth, chewing vigorously. Roast duck it most definitely was not! But he was terribly hungry, and ate the meager meal gratefully.
After he finished, Kyle felt an all-too familiar pressure in his bowels. He groaned, realizing it'd been a while since he'd gone to the bathroom. He cursed himself for not having gone back at the Tower; he'd never had to take a dump outside before, and the prospect was daunting. A few years ago, a kid from school accidently wiped himself with poison ivy during a camping trip; he'd been called "cheeks" ever since.
The pressure in Kyle's bottom grew more insistent, and he excused himself, walking toward the tall grass at the side of the road. He parted the blades with his hands, pushing through, until he was surrounded. Kalibar and Darius must have guessed what he was about to do, because they didn't even ask where he was going. He walked forward some more, then stopped, glancing backward to see if they were watching. They weren't, of course...Kyle couldn't see anything but the tall grass, which meant that they couldn't possibly see him. He yanked his pants down, squatting a foot above the ground. At first, he couldn't go, but after a while things loosened up. Within moments, the dirty deed was done. He ripped a few broad blades of grass off, making a face as he cleaned up...and hoping fervently that there was nothing like poison ivy here.
With that, he pulled his pants up, rejoining the others. Kalibar held out an empty metal pot, and Kyle watched in amazement as the pot filled itself with water, the liquid welling up from the bottom of the pot and filling it rapidly. Kalibar handed the pot over to Kyle, who brought the pot to his lips, drinking greedily. When he was done, Darius and Kalibar were staring at him with odd expressions on their faces. Kyle frowned.
"What?" he asked. Darius glanced down at the pot, then back up at Kyle.
“That's poop bucket,” Darius replied, biting into another piece of bread. "I used it this morning," he added. He glanced down at the pot again, a smirk on his face. "A lot."
Kyle glanced down at the pot. Then he gagged, turning away quickly and sprinting back into the tall grass. He barely had time to stop before he puked, hunks of bread gushing out of his mouth and onto the dirt. He vomited again, then again, until there was nothing left in his belly. He stood there, hearing muffled laughter in the background, his cheeks burning furiously. Then he imagined the pot's former contents, and dry heaved, his stomach cramping painfully, tears stinging his eyes.
That son-of-a...!
He stood there, hunched over, waiting for his belly to calm down. Eventually it did, and he turned about, trudging back through the grass until he rejoined Kalibar and Darius by the side of the road. He refused to make eye contact with either one of them, crossing his arms over his chest. Kalibar tried handing the pot to Kyle again, but Kyle refused to take it.
"Darius was just kidding," Kalibar stated, holding back a chuckle with the greatest of effort. "I gave it to you to wash your hands," he explained. Kyle blinked, then looked down at the pot. It filled up with water again, and Kal
ibar held it out to Kyle. This time, Kyle took it, his cheeks burning, and squatted on the ground, dipping his hands in the pot and scrubbing vigorously. In short order, his hands were clean – or as clean as they could be without soap. He dumped the water on the ground, then brought the pot back to Kalibar, pointedly ignoring Darius.
"Let's go," Kalibar ordered, gathering up the cups into the pot. "We'll be leaving the main road shortly. There's a smaller path that goes about a day's ride to Crescent Forest. After that, we'll have to travel on foot through the forest to get to the lake."
Kyle complied, hopping back into the carriage. Kalibar joined him, and Darius resumed his post at the driver's seat. With a snap of the reigns, they were off. Kalibar immediately got back to reading his book, and Kyle turned to stare out of his window. Fields of tall grass gave way to dense forest beyond, the terrain rising to steep hills miles away. He sighed, his mind wandering. He pictured his dad stepping out of the tall grass, waving to the carriage as it passed by. Imagined the carriage stopping, imagined himself opening the door and running out. His dad hugging him close, telling him that everything was going to be okay.
That he could go home now.
Kyle shook the image away, taking a deep breath in, then letting it out. He felt a horrible sinking feeling, knowing that he would very likely never go home. That he would never see his dad or his mom again.
I'm going to be stuck here forever, he realized.
Suddenly the carriage veered to the left, and the carriage began to bounce up and down. Darius had steered them off of the main road and down a narrow dirt path. A thin strip of tall grass grew on either side of the path, with trees beyond. Kyle braced himself at first, then relaxed slowly into his seat cushions, leaning his head back. The jostling was mildly annoying, but tolerable. He stared idly out of the window, watching the scenery go by. His eyelids became heavy, and he closed them, imagining what it would be like to go home. He fell in and out of consciousness, jolted awake from time to time by the carriage hitting a particularly deep pothole. The sun swept slowly across the sky, until dark, gloomy clouds rolled in to hide it from view. A light drizzle fell, quickly intensifying into an all-out downpour. Rain pattered loudly on the carriage roof, a flash of lightning arcing jaggedly through the sky. The deep sound of thunder rattled the carriage, setting Kyle's hair on end. The wind howled around them, sending the rain flying at the carriage almost horizontally. Darius, he noted with guilty satisfaction, was getting utterly soaked.