A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos)

by Wilkerson, Brian

  Kae face-palmed. “Oh give it up! Everybody knows.”

  “I pald ya, Ihuon't—”

  “I could find her if I had it.”

  The drunken warrior was so startled he fell out of his chair. “And dhow puuld dat see?!”

  Tell him it is a 'complicated magical thing'. Or do you wish to explain your link? In this state, he is likely to rip your head open to get it for himself.

  Eric told Culmus it was an old, complicated, and esoteric spell that even he didn't understand completely. Between this explanation, Kae's gentle persuasion, and Jet sniffing out its location they acquired the handkerchief.

  Call Kasile.

  But I'm still awake.

  It should not matter. Focus and try it!

  Eric thought about Kasile and mentally shouted, Kasile! Silence. KAAASSILLLLEEEEE!

  What? There's no need to shout! Eric was so happy their theory was correct he high-fived Dengel, who had no idea what the gesture meant. He awkwardly lowered his hand. What time is it?

  Daytime. And I'm awake.

  Really!? The link works anytime!?

  My friend theorized that it might.

  I wonder if we can still use each other's senses.

  Trust me, you don't want to. I'm in a tavern and I wish I couldn't.

  I take your distraction to mean my experiment was a success. Good. Dengel told him to find an isolated corner: one that wasn't being slept on and out of the way of foot traffic.

  “I can drink a lot faster than you can!” It was another warrior from the Dragon's Lair. He was sitting with a girl, also from the Dragon's Lair, and both had mugs. He recognized them from their eating competitions in the mess hall.

  “No you can't!” the girl shouted.

  “Yes I can!” They glared at each other, shut their eyes, and chugged. Simultaneously, they slammed their mugs on the table and said, “I win! No! I win!” They turned in unison toward Eric. “You! Which one of us was first?!” Instead of answering, Eric ran away. Basilard warned him against getting involved in their rivalry.

  “Well . . . I can drink more than you!”

  “No, you can't!”

  “Yes, I can!“

  On his perilous journey, Eric was hugged by drunks, tripped by a bench, detoured by fights, propositioned by waitresses, and splashed with an unknown liquid. When at last he reached the opposite corner and discovered a flight of stairs, he fled to it like sanctuary. They led to a long and narrow hallway on the second floor where the sounds of the tavern were somewhat muted.

  Now close your eyes and imagine the UPTE. Eric cleared his mind and breathed deeply. He pictured the black void and then suddenly he was there.

  Kasile smiled. “So this works too. Interesting . . . Since you're here, I'd like combat practice.”

  Hitting the princess, even if it was sparring, panicked Eric. “Uhm, my friend asked me to come for more than just curiosity. Come in.”

  “I am here.” Dengel stepped out of the darkness. “It appears I must be invited to this space.”

  The sage lectured on the tracking spell and made sure Eric was aware that it was not actually a spell, but a technique. Neither chants nor mana were involved, thus, it would bypass any anti-magic wards. It was a strange plan, but Eric wasn't going to criticize the master.

  The lynchpin was the handkerchief. Kasile pictured two like the one Culmus insisted he didn't have and they materialized in her hands. She never denied it, but if it was because she didn't mind Eric knowing or trusted him not to tell, he didn't know, but he preferred the latter. She gave one to Eric and he accepted it with the same hand that held the physical one. He felt the results instantly.

  Boom-bom . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Boom-bom . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..Boom-bom . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

  Dengel explained at length how it was not Kasile's heartbeat, which Eric tuned out.

  In a nutshell: spiritual resonance. The mental handkerchief was part of Kasile's spirit and it would draw Eric to the larger chunk. As he drew closer to Kasile, the resonance would increase in frequency; vice versa, if he moved farther away. In other words, a game of Hot & Cold.

  Eric clutched the handkerchief. “With this, I'm one step away from finding you.”

  Kasile clasped her hands. “Please hurry. I can't stand to be here . . . there . . . a moment longer!”

  “I'll hurry.” He paused mid-step. “Uh . . . Dengel . . .how do I get out?”

  “The same way you got in, of course.” Human stupidity never failed to try his nerves.

  Kicking himself for ignorance, Eric pictured the tavern hallway and imagined himself there. The void faded and was replaced by doors with root rot and floors with holes in them. The sounds and smells of the tavern came back just as quickly. It made him wish he stayed in the void. The pulsing handkerchief reminded him why he couldn't.

  Downstairs, Culmus was drinking and Kae was too busy pulling mugs out of the competitive couple's hands to police him. Both of them were so drunk they could barely sit upright and yet they ordered more. While Kae engaged one, the other chugged. The contest had wordlessly morphed into, “I can keep Kae busy longer than you can!”

  Eric groaned. He was counting on their help to rescue Kasile, but with so much alcohol in their veins, they were useless. Culmus looked especially bad. Why the abyss did he start drinking again?! I told him I could find Kasile! Alcohol does inhibit short-term memory but still . . .

  Go without them.

  I can't take on the whole band by myself! I'm just a novice!

  Then what do you plan to do? Go to the castle? Tell me, Eric, what has a better chance of remaining unnoticed: a single mage or a troop of soldiers?

  I'm sure they have some kind of special forces for this . . .

  You will have to explain your link. Do you have any idea how suspicious you seem? No one but you and I know this technique. Not even my books possess it because practitioners were so rare. They will think you are a Black Cloak and that you charmed this handkerchief to pulse on its own. Which, by the way, you will have to explain how you acquired the princess's handkerchief.

  The castle was out of the question, but there was still the Dragon's Lair. Dengel laughed.

  Mercenary: A person who will do anything for the right price. Do you intend to hire them?

  Eric didn't have the funds for that; the scrolls and light stones he bought in Kyraa emptied his pockets. All he had was his cut of the fee from the last mission. Then again, they might not help a random person for free, but he was a fellow member. Dengel laughed at this idea as well.

  'The guild shall be our home, and everyone in it shall be family,' What a joke! The so-called 'Mother Dragon' was a naive fool! Mercenaries only care about money!

  I'm a mercenary and I care about more than money.

  How long have you been a mercenary?

  About two months . . . not including training . . .

  You simply have not been corrupted yet. Mercenaries are one step away from bandits. In time, you will become just as jaded and heartless as they are.

  Basilard saved us from the xethras! They almost killed him!

  Then he was saved by a novice, who wasn't supposed to be there, who later died.

  Eric's insides chilled and his hand unconsciously moved behind him to the pack that had been on his back for the two weeks. He was so guilt ridden he didn't notice something important.

  How is your noble, virtuous 'Daylra' going to commemorate your dear friend's death? By having a DRINKING MATCH with DEATH HIMSELF!

  Eric dropped his shoulders. He was out of arguments. Most of the Dragon's Lair mercenaries were family, but he wasn't part of it. Culmus would still help . . . once he sobered up.

  Didn't you promise Kasile you would hurry?

  I also promised I'd rescue her. I stand a better chance with Culmus.

  It will take him at least a day to rid his system of alcohol and that is if he stops right now. Culmus stood on a table, wearing
a mug on his head, and doing a can-can dance. He sipped with every kick. That is not going to happen.

  It will once I tell him the good news!

  Wait!

  Eric was already pulling off the glass helmet. “Culmus, I know how to find Kasile!” he shouted above the merry making. The drunken swordsman stopped kicking and dropped the mugs; they were seized by others before they fell a foot.

  “'Ow?”

  Ow? . . . Oh, right! Eric held up the pulsing handkerchief. “This will lead the way.”

  “Den dwat dwe baiting bor!?” Culmus jumped off the table and ran for the door. Eric grabbed his arm and was dragged along like a stray branch.

  “Wait!” Eric said as he skidded across the floor. “You're still drunk!”

  “Doe . . . Tatter! Doe . . . Dime!”

  Culmus was picking up speed and wobbling like a leaf in a gust. It was only a matter of time before he tripped or crashed and then he really wouldn't be able to help. There was too much drink in him to see reason and there wasn't an instant cure for alcohol intoxication and the following hangover.

  Or was there?

  Eric remembered someone demonstrating just such a cure. It was way back when he first arrived on Tariatla and was guided by a grumpy hawk. He really, really didn't want to do it but he didn't have a choice. She was the only one who could help him now.

  It was time to visit the Squad Two Lounge.

  Grabbing a lamppost and forcing Culmus into its orbit slowed him down long enough for him to hear what Eric had to say. He stared blankly in response. Eric sighed and chanted; a cold shower revived him just enough to understand. The mage still had to guide him to the Dragon's Lair.

  The door dinged as the pair entered the lobby, alerting its guardian to their presence. She spun to face them and her pigtails lashed as she began her attack. “Culmus, you've been drinking again, haven't you?” Mia shook her finger at him. “Bad boy! You know you're underage.”

  Culmus muttered angrily under his breath, but he wouldn't face her. They were cousins but they were also members of the guild. Eric pondered how the dual relationship affected situations like this.

  “Uhh . . . Mia . . .Culmus has . . . suffered a great loss. I don't think he'd do this normally.”

  Mia smiled so sweetly Eric's knees buckled. “That's so kind of you, Eric. Looking out for fellow members and from another squad to boot! But, Culmus . . .” She crossed her arms and scowled. “I'm going to dock your pay for the violation. Captain Mesh will be informed.”

  Culmus groaned and rubbed his forehead.

  “If that's all, we'll be on our way,” Eric said quickly on his way to the door beside Mia's desk. Just as his hand touched the knob, Mia spoke up.

  “And where are you going at this hour, may I ask?”

  “The Squad Two Lounge.”

  “You know you're not supposed to go there. Hasina can't be blamed if you tempt her.”

  “I'm doing Culmus a favor . . . like family should, right?”

  Mia shrugged. “All right, just be careful okay? I don't want you to get hurt.” Eric blushed. “If Hasina cuts you up into a hundred pieces that would mean more paperwork and I have enough.” Eric imagined himself strapped to a table while diabolical machines hovered above.

  Mia tilted her head and put a finger to her chin. “Old Man Aaloon would be happy though; he'd hold you down.” The idea of that frenzied fossil ambushing him played itself in his mind. “Or maybe he'd just distract Jemas.”

  That idea was even worse. Eric could see it now: The old man telling Jemas there was a flaw in his mission reports or some other pretext while Hasina dragged him off to her lair.

  Mia described his grisly end as if she were telling a ghost story: a scary voice, a light stone under her face, and even made white sheets fall on him. Then, with a real scalpel, she demonstrated how Hasina would dissect him and laughed evilly.

  “Do you still want to go?” she asked in a sinister voice.

  Eric was thoroughly creeped out, but said, “Yes, I have business with her.”

  “Okie dokey!” Mia chirped in her usual sweet voice. “Be sure to dodge the pokey!” Eric shuddered. “Jokey!”

  “Funny . . .” Eric muttered. Mia's giggles followed him in. It was only later that he realized he didn't know how get to the Squad Two Lounge. I don't suppose you know the way.

  No. Dengel said tartly. I don't.

  “Why . . . we . . . stop . . .?” Culmus asked and shook his head. He even stood up.

  Maybe we don't need to go after all!

  Culmus tipped over. Eric grabbed him and held him steady.

  “Dtaht . . . way . . .” Culmus pointed a shaky finger down a tunnel. I'm relying on a drunkard to guide me to a maniac with a scalpel so I can storm a criminal hideout . . . I really am going crazy . . . He heaved Culmus up and limped down the path. When they reached another fork, Culmus gave him more directions. The paths still looked the same to the mage despite his two-month membership. I need to memorize these tunnels . . . one of these days.

  The last time Eric was in the room marked with crossed white staves it was because one of the healers poisoned him. He gulped and opened the door.

  The lounge was empty. Most of the healers had gone home. He hoped Hasina was still in her office because he wasn't brave enough to go to her house. Jemas couldn't protect him there.

  It was wall papered in one-part patents and two-parts lawsuits. A mountain of paperwork on the desk hid whoever might be sitting behind it. He could only infer someone was there by the sounds of a pen. “C-captain Hasina? Is that you?”

  The pen stopped and a chair was pushed back. Out from behind the paper mountain Hasina walked, but it was not the Hasina he knew. She was not smiling maniacally nor was there a scary light in her eyes; she looked almost . . . solemn. For a full minute, she stared at Eric. Then she pulled a piece of paper out of her cloak pocket and scribbled.

  “Note to self: hallucinations are a possible side effect of the experimental anthrax vaccine. Sight as well as sound. Study further into this matter.” She stuffed the paper into her pocket and vanished behind the paperwork. Seconds later, a chair was pushed in and the sounds of a pen resumed.

  “Uh . . . captain . . . I'm really here.”

  “Nonsense. The real Eric Watley would never enter the Squad Two Lounge, let alone my office. Be gone hallucination! I have work to do.”

  Eric sighed. Two chairs were placed on his side of the desk so he put Culmus in one of them. Then, mustering his courage, he bypassed Mt. Paperwork. Hasina hunched over her desk and took no notice of him. Part of him screamed to run before she came to her senses. He took a deep breath and grabbed Hasina's pen. Her grip was too firm for him to break, and not only that, she didn't notice he was tugging on it. It was like he truly was a hallucination; a feeling he knew too well.

  This time, when the life of a friend was on the line, he was not going to stand by and be ignored. I need a way to get her attention without being so outlandish that she thinks she's hallucinating. He scratched his ear and it came to him. It was the same thing his older brother did to him every day at breakfast. He stuck a finger in his mouth and got it nice and wet. Then he brushed aside enough of Hasina's hair to reveal her ear. I hope I live through this . . .

  Famous last words! Eric ignored Dengel, stuck his wet finger in Hasina's ear, and wiggled it.

  She screamed and jumped out of her seat. Eric withdrew, but Hasina's hand snapped out and caught his wrist. Her grip was as tight as ever; he couldn't feel his hand anymore. With her other hand she poked Eric. After a minute of poking she said, “You're . . . not . . .a hallucination.”

  “Yeah . . . I know,” Eric said. For some reason, it gave him great pleasure to do so.

  “Are you . . .The Trickster in disguise? It wouldn't be the first time he did that . . .”

  “No.”

  “In that case he chose well . . . I don't suppose you're here to . . .” Her eyes brightened though still muted. “Offer yourse
lf in the name of science?

  “No.”

  “Then why are you here!?” She reached into her pocket, pulled out the sheet she had written on, and ripped it up. “In case you hadn't noticed, I have a lot of work to do.”

  Eric had never seen this side of Hasina before; so . . . tired and low key and lacking . . . Hasinaness. To be honest it scared him more than her mania. This Hasina was safer to be near, but he needed the old Hasina. Only the one that delighted in research and experimental remedies and dissecting him would give Culmus the hangover cure he, Eric, and Kasile needed.

  “Are you too busy for . . . an experiment?”

  Hasina jolted. “What kind of experiment?” Her hands were fidgeting and her feet were tapping.

  “I have here . . .” Eric gestured to Culmus. “A human willing to risk life and limb to try out that instant hangover cure.”

  “The Paticion urine!?” Eric could see the excitement building in her; she was powering up. “I have wanted so much to try that on a human!” In the blink of an eye, she was at Culmus's side with a waiver. “Sign here, please.”

  “Enhhh . . .” Culmus groaned. “What . . .this . . .?”

  “Something that will help us save Kasile.”

  “O..kay.” Culmus tried to grasp Hasina's pen, but he kept missing it. Eric put the pen in his hand and kept it steady as he signed: Culmus Stratos.

  “All right then!” Hasina said. She giggled as she flung open her cupboard and brought forth a vial. She put it in Culmus' hand and unscrewed the top. “Down the hatch!” He raised it on his own and the remedy was gone in a flash.

  For about four seconds he was calm, then he pitched over on his knees and his whole body convulsed. He made strange choked noises; some of which sounded like words and others like shrieks of pain. His body tensed up like a spring and sprung. Hasina and Eric backed away when he started punching and kicking.

  “Is something wrong? The giant wasn't this violent!”

  Hasina shrugged. She wasn't bothered at all by the fact Culmus was hacking like a cat and twitching like he was upped on caffeine. “I don't know what's going to happen. That's why I wanted to try it on a human.”

  “Why didn't you try it on yourself?!”