War of Power (The Trouble with Magic Book 3)

Home > Other > War of Power (The Trouble with Magic Book 3) > Page 9
War of Power (The Trouble with Magic Book 3) Page 9

by B. J. Beach


  Moonstone wandered into the room and looked up at Karryl. “He speaks the truth. You can trust him.”

  Areel chuckled. “Thank you, little hunter. Your assessment of me is greatly valued.”

  The tortoiseshell cat leapt up onto the arm of Karryl’s chair and glared at Areel. “Not so much of the ‘little’ if you please.” The cat looked into Karryl’s face. “There is one small thing which is probably of no consequence. His name’s not Areel.”

  Moonstone looked smug as only a cat can look smug, and Karryl raised a questioning eyebrow. “No doubt you heard what our companion just said, so perhaps you’d care to explain yourself.”

  The Jadhra’s upper lip twitched in distaste as he looked round the dull and grimy room. “I will explain briefly, as much as is necessary. This room depresses me.”

  Karryl leaned back in his chair. “Then the briefer the better. I have much to do. So, if you’re not called Areel, who are you?”

  The black-clad desert warrior clasped his hands together and looked earnestly at Karryl. “My given name is Miqhal, and it is by that name I am known in Vedra. Had you or Magnor become captives of the Grelfi they would most certainly have tortured you to discover how you entered the city. They could not have learned of me from you. There is no Areel.”

  Moonstone stepped over into Karryl’s lap, and he absently fondled the cat’s ears as he questioned Miqhal. “So why take the risk? You must have a pretty powerful reason.”

  Miqhal gave a brief nod. “I take risks for the same reason you do. I live only to see the Navigator recovered and returned to where it belongs. To that end I have suffered much indignity to ensure that I became Lord Ghian’s most trusted body servant. As such, I could have stolen the Locator at any time, but it would have led me nowhere. My heart was joyful when you recovered it with your powers.”

  Karryl was about to ask another question but Miqhal held up a hand. “Allow me to explain a little more, and then you will understand. Over hundreds of years the Vedrans have gradually lost their knowledge of the true purpose of the artefacts. They no longer understand their ancient writings or know what and where the fourth artefact is. They believe that only when they have possession of all four will they have limitless power with which to destroy your world. Once they have achieved this, they believe that their god Zo’ad will return them to their home world.”

  Karryl was intrigued. “But…it was your world too, if I remember correctly.”

  There was a glint in Miqhal’s dark deep-set eyes. “Indeed it was. We also believe we shall one day return. Unlike our rebellious brethren who craved supremacy over all and succumbed to the seductive power of evil, we the Jadhrahin have guarded our history. In our writings and by word of mouth it has been handed down from father to son. It is as fresh and clear in our mind as on the day we left Dahrian, our world.”

  Karryl tilted his head in query. “Why didn’t you just go straight back there?”

  Miqhal shook his head. “It was not possible. Time had turned against us. Our race found themselves doomed to a thousand years of life on this world. The malcontents among us, mainly renegade priests and some with certain special skills, soon left the freedom of the open desert to settle in an ancient and abandoned city. They rebuilt it and named it Vedra. There they embraced the teachings of a dark and evil god they called Zo’ad.

  “They are no longer a proud and noble race of warriors. Their lives are dedicated to appeasing Zo’ad. In the past they frequently raided our camps, taking younger men and women for service in their dark temple. The breeding of the grelfons was the Vedrans’ ultimate act of evil, and their greatest success.”

  The Jadhra warrior’s broad shoulders slumped, and Karryl sensed he would soon decide he had said enough. He gave him a little prompt. “So, what use are the artefacts to them if they are no longer aware of their true purpose? Not that I am, come to that.”

  The corners of Miqhal’s mouth curved downward in a steely grimace. “They believe Lord Ghian is the one who will draw the true power from them and utter the words of the sacred writings. Then they can gain dominance over this world until such time as they find a way to leave and abandon us to our fate, while they return to conquer Dahrian.”

  Mage and warrior sat in contemplative silence, lost in worlds of their own while everyday noises filtered in from the nearby street.

  Eyes wide with sudden realisation, Karryl looked hard at Miqhal. “What happens if the Jadhrahin end up with all the artefacts? Are you just going to clear off and leave the Vedrans and their blasted grelfons for us to deal with?”

  Miqhal gave Karryl a long-suffering look. “You misunderstand. When they learn that we have all four artefacts, it is believed the Vedrans will lose all hope. Our plan is to see the Grelfi and their beasts destroyed, and the Vedrans returned with us to Dahrian as our prisoners.

  “As I have told you before, we are a dying race. When they built Vedra and began their evil practices. Zo’ad punished us all by making each generation less able to father children. Where we were thousands, now we are but a few hundred. The curse will be removed when we return to Dahrian. So it is vital that we have the Locator and the Navigator. Without them we will not know where we are going.”

  Karryl gave Miqhal a long flat look. “I suppose you realise what will happen if I find the Navigator and hand the two artefacts over to you? An army of Wraiths will descend on Vellethen, intent on exacting revenge for the absolute death of one of their own.”

  Miqhal held up a cautioning hand. “Once the Jadhrahin have the artefacts the Wraiths will pay no further attention to you or your people. They may even turn on the one they serve.”

  Shocked, Karryl stared at Miqhal. “They would attack Ghian?” Just for a brief moment Karryl felt a misplaced kind of sympathy for someone he’d known since childhood. “That’s despicable!”

  In one smooth movement the Jadhra rose effortlessly to his feet, his black clothes rippling against his firm lithe body. His voice was harshly mocking. “Such emotions serve no purpose. Ghian is beyond recovery. Should the Wraiths remain loyal to him, he will use them to destroy you. Do not lose sight of the fact that he is truly your enemy. He has an insatiable hunger for power, which makes him a very dangerous adversary indeed.

  “Also he has his grelfon, but only his. He may be Master of the Grelfi but not of their beasts. They answer only to their bonded handlers. As you know, once the handler is killed the grelfon fails. However, it would take more than the power I possess to defeat Ghian and his beast. That will be up to you.” His mouth twisted with contempt as he glanced round the room. “Now I must depart. I shall be glad to leave this place. I would say you have at most seven days before the first attack, unless you have found the third artefact by then.”

  Karryl got to his feet, dropping a disgruntled Moonstone on the cushion Miqhal had just vacated. He moved close to the Jadhra warrior. “I was just about to attempt retrieval of the Navigator when you arrived.”

  Miqhal’s eyes widened. “It is here, in this house?”

  Karryl shook his head as he led the way back into the kitchen. “No. But I think the entrance to its hiding place is.”

  He turned round in time to see Miqhal place his palms together and bow his head. “I am most abject. I have dishonoured you by assuming incorrectly that this was your dwelling.”

  Karryl placed his hand lightly on Miqhal’s black-clad shoulder. “A simple mistake easily made, but no harm done. Now come, and let me show you.”

  Much relieved, Miqhal indicated his thanks by clasping Karryl’s hand in both his own before following him to stand in front of a seemingly blank and neglected wall. Knowing he need make no customary gestures for the Jadhra’s benefit, Karryl removed the shabby glamour which concealed the locked pantry door.

  * * *

  Once he had the full import of Miqhal’s warning, Vailin had acted swiftly. A variety of bell-pulls were repeatedly pulled. Messengers, ministers and military came and went as wheels were smoothly set
in motion for the defence of Vellethen. Confident that matters concerning the defence of Vellethen and its environs were well in hand, Vailin ordered all guards doubled and insisted that the royal household should continue as normal.

  14 - Nine Steps Down

  The final strand of the warding which restrained it now unwoven, the large blue slate flagstone set in the pantry floor began to lift. With a hollow grating sound it gradually pulled away from those surrounding it, until it hung at a slight tilt a few inches above the floor. Sharing a thought, Karryl and Miqhal took one side each and hefted the weighty slab over to one side of the small windowless room.

  Kneeling beside the space, Karryl peered down into the gloom of the exposed narrow shaft, struggling to keep the excitement out of his voice. “I can see steps but it’s too dark to tell how many. According to the riddle there should be nine.”

  Miqhal’s dark eyes met Karryl’s over the top of the shaft. “Will you make light, or use dark-sight?”

  Karryl gave a wry smile. “That’s already been worked out for me by the mage who hid the artefact. I only have ‘a candle’s time’ which I’m assuming is an hour, to separate and clear the strands of the lattice ward, then after that it’s dark-sight. I’m not sure what will happen if I don’t manage it in the time.”

  Naturally gifted with dark-sight, Miqhal lay flat on his stomach and looked down into the shaft. “I see the bottom of the steps. You are correct. There are indeed nine, and I believe I see the entrance of a tunnel.”

  Karryl sat back on his heels and gazed ruefully at the top of the shaft. “Oh joy! I just love tunnels.”

  Still face down, his head hanging over the edge, Miqhal’s voice echoed inside the shaft. “By the time this is all over they will be as second nature to you.”

  Karryl slapped his hands on his knees. “Well, perhaps this will be the last one.”

  Pushing himself back into a kneeling position, Miqhal flashed Karryl a grin. “I fear not. The tunnels to the location of the fourth artefact are like no others.”

  Karryl countered with a long flat look as the Jadhra gave a deep husky bark of a laugh. “If you should experience those, then you will love tunnels.”

  Standing up, the tall warrior brushed dust from the silky sheen of his black clothing. “I would consider it an honour if you would allow me to assist you in this particular tunnel.”

  Karryl looked up at him. “I appreciate that, but I doubt if there’ll be room for two of us down there. I’d feel better if you were up here keeping watch.”

  Miqhal nodded his understanding. “It shall be as you wish.”

  From somewhere in the folds of his clothing he produced one of the metal torches from Vedra and offered it to Karryl. “This was intended as a gift for you, so perhaps this is a good time to put it to use.”

  The young mage pushed himself to his feet and smiled his thanks as he took the proffered torch. After shaking it vigorously for a minute or so, he clicked it on and played its blue light down the yawning shaft.

  With a deep sigh, he sat down on the floor and let his feet dangle in the hole. “Well, I suppose now I’m equipped, there’s nothing for it but to get going.”

  Karryl lowered his feet onto the top step, turned round and began a backwards descent, his hands resting for support on the deep narrow steps. To his left the dark circle of the tunnel entrance gaped uninvitingly, and his heart sank. Cut through solid rock, it was barely four feet in diameter. Unless it became higher further in, he would be reduced to crawling on hands and knees. Even understanding the riddle gave him no way of knowing how far he would have to go before he reached the lattice ward. Crouching down, he shone the bright blue light of the torch into the tunnel’s dark musty confines. The beam revealed only smooth rock walls. He looked up to see Miqhal’s head and shoulders silhouetted about fifteen feet above him.

  He called up. “I’m going into the tunnel.”

  Miqhal raised a hand in acknowledgement, and Karryl ducked into the cramped subterranean passage. After what he estimated to be half an hour of crawling on hands and knees, the tunnel was still running straight and true. Nothing dropped or dripped from the ceiling, nothing scurried over or around him. Eventually he was even glad that at least he was getting sore knees to alleviate the tedium.

  Without any prior warning he piled straight into it. Prickling furiously, the skin on his face, hands and arms felt as though he had been attacked by the entire population of an ant-hill. A swift squirm backwards brought his shoulder against the tunnel wall. He leaned there for a while and waited for the discomfort to subside. The Mage-Prime was impressed. Only very powerful and skilfully crafted magic could have retained such intensity for almost a thousand years. Half hoping, but not really expecting to see some vestige remaining of the ancient mage’s presence, Karryl played the narrow beam of the torch across the area in front of him. Just beyond the point where the magically constructed and invisible lattice began, something small and white caught the light. He stifled a gasp of surprise. Focussing on the object, he tried to make out what it might be.

  Faint but clear, Miqhal’s voice entered his mind. “I sense you have found something.”

  “Yes. I crawled straight into the lattice ward and had to back up rather quickly.”

  “You squealed as if you had been stung.”

  “I felt as though I had. The magic is still very potent. Now I’ve seen something on the tunnel floor just beyond the lattice, but I can’t make out what it is.”

  A short silence preceded Miqhal’s response. “This may be a test to see if you can recover it. Or perhaps you are meant to retrieve it after you have removed the warding.”

  Karryl stared at the small white object as he thought through Miqhal’s words. With the torch switched off he initiated the dark-sight spell to give him greater contrast, and so possibly a better idea of what he was looking at. The object gleamed silver in the purple and violet shades of dark-sight, and Karryl chuckled as he realised what it was. Drawing in a little power, he sent a narrow strand snaking through the lattice ward, snagged the object, and drew it slowly towards him. By sheer good fortune he found a gap in the lattice wide enough for it to slip through. He reached out and picked it up. The bottoms of two short thick candles had been joined together with a thin sliver of tallow.

  With a little pressure from Karryl’s fingers they broke apart. “It’s a pair of ancient hour candles, Miqhal. I wonder why he left two.”

  There was a brief pause before Miqhal answered. “Perhaps undoing the warding will require the time of two if it is very complex.”

  “I thought of that, but I’m not so sure that’s the reason. The riddle only mentioned one candle which is one hour. I’ll just have to carry on, and maybe the answer will reveal itself.”

  There were tones of concern in Miqhal’s voice. “It would be wise to return now and take some food and drink. The morning is well advanced, and I fear the house owner may also soon return.”

  Karryl stared into the deep purple darkness, then made his decision. “I’ll trust you to deal with Hieronymus Smeers. He’s a bit eccentric but I think he’s harmless. When I leave the tunnel I shall more than likely have to come out backwards. I don’t relish the prospect of having to do it twice. As soon as I’ve got myself into a comfortable position I’ll light one of the candles. Then I’m going to start on the lattice.”

  The long silence that followed was redolent with misgivings. “Moonstone is already on his way down. He was most insistent. Are there any mice down there?”

  Karryl chuckled. “No there aren’t, but he’s most welcome.”

  The young mage had already become rather fond of the big tortoiseshell cat with mismatched eyes. He knew that if he encountered any difficulty, Moonstone, agile in mind and limb, would be ideal company. As if to add substance to the thought, the cat arrived beside him on silent paws. After pushing its broad head briefly against Karryl’s knee, it took a little step further forward.

  One paw slightly rais
ed, Moonstone sniffed repeatedly in the direction of the lattice. “I sense strong magic. With your permission I will simply observe.”

  Karryl smiled and ran his hand along the sleek fur of the cat’s back. “You’re welcome.”

  Giving a little purry ‘Mmrrow ‘ of pleasure, Moonstone stepped back a little then sat, wrapping his thick tail neatly round all four paws .

  Karryl shuffled forward and sat back on his heels. With one hand he reached out and began searching for the telltale pulsing prickle which would reveal the starting point of the lattice ward. Only when he had found that would he light one of the candles. Tracing it took only a few moments. He also discovered that the lattice was not comprised of the usual net of simple squares. Instead, this one involved a complex pattern of interwoven and variable diamond shapes. He also found something else. Silently he cursed the ancient mage, at the same praising his skill and ingenuity. The lattice had two starting points. Karryl would have to work two unbinding spells in tandem. After a few moments of intense thought, he looked at the candle, looked at the cat, then back at the seemingly empty space where the lattice lay. He lit the candle with a flick of his fingers, centred his concentration and began.

  Working steadily but carefully, Karryl’s task was near completion. Only the three centre strands remained, and his knees and shoulders ached. He was about to unwrap the last strands when the candle sputtered and went out. Despite his feverish attempt to complete, the warding gave no quarter. In the space of a couple of heartbeats the ancient power crawling swiftly up Karryl’s arms told him that the warding had completely reassembled itself. With a whimper of frustration Karryl slouched and pushed his fingers into his hair.

  His front paws on Karryl’s knee, Moonstone stretched his neck and peered into his face. “Leave it now. We can return later.”

  With a brief nod of tacit agreement, Karryl briefly sank his fingers into the cat’s warm fur, then started to shuffle backwards.

  Insinuating himself under the young mage’s shoulder, Moonstone stared wide eyed.

 

‹ Prev