by Duncan Pile
“It’s exquisite,” he breathed, turning it round to look at it from all angles. “What is it?”
“A Chimera, and it is even more dangerous that it is beautiful,” Hephistole answered.
“What does it do?”
“It comes to life,” Hephistole responded. “It becomes the mythical creature you see depicted here, but not in miniature. No, it will emerge in all its glory, a being of the ancient world right before your eyes.”
For once, Gaspi didn’t know what to say. Was Hephistole winding him up? “But how can that happen? These…chimeras don’t even exist!”
“Oh they existed alright,” Hephistole said. “In ancient times, magicians more knowledgeable than you or I created them. They are not natural beings, but creatures forged by magic and bound to its service. Some of the oldest text books in the known world describe how they were used. Magicians of old had armies of such creatures, each one contained as you see here. The mighty sphinx, chimeras such as this one, and poisonous hydras were summoned to serve their masters.”
“And dragons?” Gaspi asked.
“No, dragons were natural creatures. They were the greatest and noblest of all beings, not some magician’s summoned pet.” Hephistole’s eyes were lit with a peculiar intensity, but then the fervent light faded, and he refocused on the figurine in Gaspi’s hand. “Great wars were fought with the aid of these armies, but in the end those magicians destroyed themselves, and much of their knowledge died with them. This is a rare relic of the ancient world, but it is very real. If you summon this creature, Gaspi, it will indeed appear.”
“What will it do?” Gaspi asked, staring at the tiny chimera in awe.
“It will defend you. It will fight to the death, destroying your enemies, but be aware, it can only be summoned once, and its lifespan is measured in minutes rather than hours.”
“Amazing. How do I use it?”
“You must channel power into it, and not a trickle either. You must flood it with all your strength and cry out the words of power. Don’t whisper them, shout out with all your might: ‘Mighty chimera, defend me from my enemies.’ Repeat that back to me Gaspi.”
Gaspi looked at the figurine in concern. “I don’t want to summon it by mistake.”
“Don’t worry. To summon it takes tremendous sense of purpose and an influx of power few are capable of. Of this group, only you, I or Voltan could summon it, and only with all our effort behind it. So, what’s the phrase?”
“Er, Mighty chimera, fight my enemies,” Gaspi said, glancing nervously at the figurine in his palm.
Hephistole barked a laugh. “Try again: Mighty chimera, defend me from my enemies.”
“Mighty chimera, defend me from my enemies,” he said, glancing once again at his palm, but nothing happened.
“And again.”
“Mighty chimera, defend me from my enemies.”
“Once more.”
“Mighty chimera, defend me from my enemies.”
“Repeat that at intervals throughout the day, and I will check you have it fully memorised before I transport back to Helioport.”
“Okay.”
“Just remember Gaspi, this is a highly dangerous beast. Legend has it they are eight feet tall at the shoulder, with teeth that could rip a tree trunk in half. Its tail is swift and deadly as its jaws and its breath is fire. It should be used only when your lives are in great danger.”
“Do you think it could beat the Darkman?” Gaspi asked, awed by Hephistole’s description.
“I have no idea, but that is exactly the kind of situation I’m talking about. Put it away now Gaspi. It is not a toy.” Gaspi dropped the tiny chimera into the cloth pouch, its ruby eyes glinting as he pulled the drawstring tight. He slipped it into the interior of his robe.
Gaspi looked at the chancellor, wishing circumstances were different and he didn’t have to leave them so soon. “Heppy, I’m glad we had a chance to talk earlier.”
“Me too,” Hephistole said. “Even between friends, things sometimes need putting right. I’ve learned a lot recently you know,” he added, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Some important lessons about guilt and forgiveness for starters. I also learned not to mess with Heath. He will be a formidable ally to have by your side on this quest.”
Gaspi nodded. Having Heath around would make a big difference. “Will you check on Jonn when you’re back?”
“You have my word,” Hephistole responded gravely. “Now come on, let’s re-join the others and see what enchantments they’ve chosen.”
Fourteen
Voltan was eager for them to get underway, but it was already well into the afternoon, and if they left at that point, they’d only get a few hours of travel in before having to make camp again. That might still have been worthwhile, but there was just too much to sort out before Hephistole could leave. The chancellor still didn’t know about the Gaaks, and more importantly about what had happened with the hermit’s stone, and there was no way he could leave before he understood the implications of those events. Gaspi also wanted to talk with Hephistole about his dream – if anyone would understand the implications of that, it would be him. As the afternoon went on, Voltan conceded that travel was pointless, and it was decided that the group would stay one more night in the clearing. Hephistole lingered for the evening meal, and afterwards he, Voltan and Gaspi talked quietly around the fire. Gaspi asked Heath to join them – the druid needed to hear this too, and soon enough, he was telling his tale to the newcomers. They asked lots of questions, but when it came to the part about the stone, they listened in horrified silence.
“No wonder nothing will grow there,” Heath mumbled. He was pale beneath his tan, glancing uncomfortably at the blackened patch of ground where the hermit’s shack used to be.
“This is disturbing,” Hephistole said. He looked as upset as Heath did! “This stone must have gained its powers from somewhere, but without further investigation, I wouldn’t like to guess where what was.”
“It can only be the foulest of dark magic,” Heath said, his brow beetling into a dozen compressed lines.
“When I return to Helioport, I will research this as a matter of urgency. You have accidentally stumbled across great evil, Gaspi. May I add, you have cleansed the world of that evil, and for that you have my sincere thanks.”
“And mine,” Heath added. Loreill chirruped in Gaspi’s lap, adding his own voice to the chorus.
Voltan cleared his throat. “There’s something you should understand, Hephistole. After we understood what Gaspi had saved us from, every person in the group pledged themselves to him. It was a spontaneous act but it felt…right. Even I bowed the knee.”
Hephistole looked wonderingly from the warrior mage to Gaspi. “Deeper and deeper it goes,” he said. “Such matters are mysterious, actions borne of instinct, but I have no doubt what you’ve done was both right and important.”
“It’s all part of your destiny Gaspi,” Heath added, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “You are drawing allegiance, gathering forces in anticipation of what is to come. It may seem strange right now, but I do not think it will for long.”
“They didn’t give me much of a choice,” Gaspi said. He still hadn’t reconciled himself to what had happened that day, and didn’t feel comfortable discussing it. “I told them we’re all constantly saving each other from one thing or another, but they were having none of it.”
“You may not understand it, but at least you had the humility to let it happen,” Heath said.
Gaspi shrugged, embarrassed. “There’s something else I want to tell you about,” he said, changing the subject.
“What’s that?” Hephistole asked.
“After the stone exploded I fell unconscious. While I was out I had a disturbing dream. Well, maybe more than a dream. I can remember it like I was really there.”
“Tell us,” Hephistole said.
“I was in this cavern, except it was enormous, like it was the whole world. I was way
up in the air, looking down on the cavern floor. There was a sea of fire, and this being hunched by it, stirring it with his finger but it didn’t burn him. He was huge – as big as a mountain. I could feel his thoughts. He was thinking about Sestin. He called him his “greatest servant”, and he knew he had control of a Darkman. He also knew about the stone – he was thinking that a Bloodstone had been destroyed. What else can it be?”
Voltan was looking at him with a furrowed brow, but Hephistole and Heath were sitting bolt upright, looks of alarm on their faces.
“What happened next?” Heath asked.
“He became aware of me and started to rise. I felt his mind grip me – I was completely powerless, but then Loreill was there and he brought me out of it. That’s when I woke up.”
Hephistole surged to his feet. “My goodness! Heath, what do you think this means?” he asked. Heath just shook his head in mute astonishment, his brows rising and falling as he wrestled with what Gaspi had just said. “We have to take this seriously,” Hephistole said, wringing his hands together. “Gaspi, I believe that you have seen something no human being has ever seen before – something you were definitely not supposed to see.”
“What do you mean?” Gaspi asked, rising to his feet as well. Hephistole’s intensity had awakened fear in his breast.
“We have always assumed that Sestin is acting alone, but if your dream is anything to go by, this may not be true. He may be serving a greater master.” That thought had occurred to Gaspi before, but hearing it from Hephistole’s mouth made it more real somehow. He didn’t want to believe it, but however hard he tried, he couldn’t persuade himself that the dream wasn’t real.
“But…” he started, but no cogent thought came to him.
“Let’s calm down a bit,” Heath said. “Panicking won’t do us any good.” Hephistole stared at him with wide eyes for a moment and then dropped back down again like a puppet with its strings cut. Gaspi followed suit.
“Thank you Heath,” Hephistole said, blowing out a lungful of air to calm himself down. “Sorry Gaspi – getting worked up clearly isn’t helpful.” Gaspi waved his apology away. “What are your thoughts Heath?” Hephistole asked.
Heath was silent for long moments, running a hand slowly over his beard. “If we have discovered something new, it is not necessarily a bad thing,” he said slowly. “In fact, this makes a lot of sense.”
“How so?” Hephistole asked.
Heath didn’t answer Hephistole directly, but asked Gaspi a question instead. “Gaspi, do you remember when I told you of the elementals’ belief in you? You were particularly burdened by the idea that they had anticipated your coming for over a thousand years. You went off on your own to think, and when you came back, you told me of a revelation you had received.”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Tell me about it again.”
Gaspi cast his mind back to that day, remembering the way he’d felt in the pool. He’d been overwhelmed by what Heath had told him, like the whole world had fallen heavily on his shoulders. But then he’d come to a simple realisation; if he was destined to do great things, then something was doing that destining. When he’d realised that, he’d come to the understanding that he could only do his best. Making everything work out was the responsibility of whatever had chosen him for greatness. In essence, he’d come to believe in something that day, something greater and more powerful than him, something worth serving. Since that day, he’d held that belief close to his heart, and it had kept him from getting crushed by the weight of destiny
“I realised I just had to do my part,” he said. “If I’ve been chosen to do something important, then some great power has done the choosing. The elementals believe in me, but they too are serving a greater purpose. I guess we’re all just doing our parts.” Hephistole listened in wide-eyed silence, but Voltan, who’d been silent for minutes, rose quietly and walked away, clearly uncomfortable with the discussion.
“Exactly,” Heath said, leaning back. “This dark foe may be powerful. He may even be Sestin’s master, but let us not underestimate the Great Spirit. He is just as real, and though He is great beyond knowledge, he occupies our hearts and minds, and makes Himself known in our meditations. If Sestin serves a greater master, then so do we.”
Gaspi didn’t say anything as he took it in. What Heath was saying made him see things on a much grander scale. Sestin wasn’t the master – he was just a puppet, moved by the hand of a greater foe. Ferast too, along with the Darkman, the wargs, the Bale-beasts and the Snatchers. Suddenly, he saw them as pieces on a gaming board, opposed only by Gaspi, his friends and the elementals. If they were gaming pieces, then looming above them were the two players; the Great Spirit he met in his meditations, and the Dark God he’d seen in his dream.
“It makes sense,” he said at last.
“I think it does too,” Hephistole said. “But in what world is this not terrible news? It was bad enough when we thought Sestin was the worst of our concerns!”
“Nothing has really changed has it?” Heath said. “If this terrible enemy could act freely in our plane, then it would already be doing so, but instead it operates through its servants. It is the same for us – the Great Spirit does not act independently. We are His hands and feet. In essence we are still battling against Sestin and his demons, and we do so for reasons that have not changed.”
“You have more faith than I,” Hephistole said.
“I do have faith,” Heath said. “So do the elementals, and I suspect Gaspi does too. Would that be fair to say?”
“I have faith,” Gaspi responded.
“Then we can only hope that is enough,” Heath said.
Fifteen
Hephistole was to leave that evening, and it was decided that Bret would go with him. It had been clear to Gaspi since leaving Helioport that the healer was uncomfortable with the challenges of the journey. He’d done his best, but he hated sleeping outside and he was no use whatsoever in a fight. Most importantly, he was at best a mediocre healer, and now that Emmy was here there was no need for him to remain. Gaspi had his concerns about Emmy putting herself in danger, but there was no doubt that of the two of them, she was much more powerful.
It was also decided that Fortunate would leave with the chancellor as well. The boy was loathe to say goodbye to Gaspi, but they couldn’t rightly take him along on the quest. It was simply too dangerous. Gaspi took him aside to explain it to him, sitting him down and talking about how fantastic Helioport was and how dangerous it would be to remain on the quest. Though Fortunate was clearly upset, he eventually agreed to leave with Hephistole, but only after making Gaspi promise to visit him as soon as he returned.
“Good lad,” Gaspi said, patting Fortunate on the knee and making to stand up, but Fortunate’s small hand caught the crook of his elbow. Gaspi sat back down. “What is it?” he asked. The boy was looking at him intently.
“He wasn’t always like that, you know,” he said quietly.
“Who?” Gaspi asked.
“The hermit,” Fortunate responded. “I want to tell you something.” The boy looked nervous and afraid, but strangely determined. Whatever he had to say was obviously important to him.
“Go ahead,” Gaspi said gently.
Fortunate was silent for a moment. “When I was very little,” he started, “a gypsy caravan passed through my home. They told my father all kind of stories, about places where rivers swell over their banks and food grows all year round and never runs out. It became his dream to see such a place, so we left the desert and travelled north, looking for a better life.
“We passed through many good places on our travels, but my father always believed there was somewhere better, somewhere perfect, so we kept travelling north until we neared this place. One night, we were cooking a meal by the side of the road when a pack of wolves found us. The smell must have attracted them. My father tried to shoo them off but they attacked him, snarling and biting. My father fought back, along with my
older brothers. I wanted to fight but my mother wouldn’t let me. She made me run away but I only went a little distance and then turned back. I picked up a stone and ran back to help my father, but when I got there the wolves had already killed him and my oldest brother too. My mother and my other brother were still alive. Some of the wolves were dead too but there were still many of them left. I threw my rock but it missed. The wolves attacked again. They killed my mother and brother and would have killed me too, but then a man came, shouting angrily and attacking the wolves with his staff. He rescued me, Gaspi. He buried my family and took me home with him. His name was Symeon.”
“Fortunate I am so sorry,” Gaspi said, struggling to find the words. He reached out and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
Fortunate shrugged sadly. “You’re an orphan. You know what it’s like.”
Gaspi paused a moment. He was pretty sure he didn’t know what it was like. His parents had died when he was too young to remember them, but Fortunate had seen his whole family ripped to pieces before his eyes. He didn’t think it would be helpful to point that out however. “Maybe I do,” he said, leaving it there. “So how did you end up with the hermit then? What happened to Symeon?”
“Symeon is the hermit,” Fortunate responded. “Or at least he was.”
“You what?” Gaspi said incredulously, struggling to comprehend that the man who had saved Fortunate’s life was the same man who’d tried to sacrifice him on the altar of dark magic.