by B. J. Beach
“Now, I will leave you, and return through the portal. I will allow it to remain open until you see half of the moon below its upper edge. If you decide not to follow, against which I strongly advise, I will contact you in some other way. Bear in mind, there is little time left until it will become necessary for you to confront those who would destroy everything you hold dear.”
Touching fingertips to forehead, lips and chest in turn, Areel made a slight bow, and turned away. The dark fabric once more concealing his lower face, he stepped back through the portal.
CHAPTER TWENTYFIVE
Within a pace of the open portal, Karryl stood feet apart, arms folded, staring at the unfamiliar constellations visible against the oval of night sky. He sensed, rather than heard Magnor move to stand behind him.
He spoke without turning. “Well! That was a bit sudden and dramatic! It doesn’t seem as though I have a lot of choice though. He seemed very serious.”
Glancing over his shoulder at Magnor he gave a thoughtful frown. “Although, for some strange reason I feel that I can trust him, whoever he is. He certainly seemed to know who I was.”
Magnor gave a short deep rumble of agreement, although it was clear that something else was on his mind. “Beats me how he managed to get the lights working again. Last time they went out I had to go down below and fiddle about with things. Nothing to do with magic.”
Karryl shrugged. After one more, quick glance at the portal, he turned and hurried across the width of the tunnel. “We’d better get moving or we’ll lose him.”
He had already begun to move towards the portal when Magnor’s reply stopped him in his tracks. “There’s no need. I’ve got a pretty good idea where he’s going. We’ll follow shortly. This is a good opportunity for us to talk about a few things before you have to leave Thermera.”
Karryl frowned and looked a question at Magnor. The tall elder reached down the neck of the tunic he wore under his leather hunting jerkin. The flameless lights caught the exquisitely cut facets of the frosty blue jewel on its gold chain, its brief glory extinguished as Magnor’s broad hand covered it. He stood holding the jewel inside his hand, his glance alternating between Karryl and the shift-portal, as if in earnest conversation. Finally he nodded.
Slipping the jewel back inside his tunic, he leaned comfortably against the frame of the heavy iron gate. “Although you have learned more in your apprenticeship to Master Symon than many magicians might learn in a lifetime, there is still much more that you have to know.”
Karryl moved to lean beside him, crossing his ankles for comfort. “For instance?”
Magnor raised an eyebrow. With his hand held out flat, he described a long arc in the air in front of them, finishing with an anti-clockwise circular gesture.
Karryl gave him a sideways glance. “If you wanted a spell of silence why didn’t you say? I could have done it without all that hand waving.”
Magnor gave a dismissive grunt. “Our schools of magic teach things differently. An incorrect gesture may produce something other than the desired effect. Anyway, yours may not have worked.”
Karryl held up a contradictory finger. “The Light of Perimus worked!”
“Then it would appear you’ve already made some progress. How did you manage to make the light?”
“Oh! Well, I had to do something. I haven’t been gifted with dark-sight. I have to cast a spell for that, so I decided that light was a better option. All I did was imagine an empty box around myself. Then I cast the Light of Perimus spell inside that. Thankfully, it worked.” He followed his explanation with a dismissive shrug. “It only goes to show that not everything we’re told is true.”
Magnor gave a wry grin. “Of course. You were told your magic wouldn’t work in Thermera.”
Karryl shook his head, an uncharacteristic bafflement clearly evident on his young face. “If it can be made to work, why do they say it won’t? Under different circumstances I probably wouldn’t have tried anyway, in case the magic upset some kind of balance.”
Magnor didn’t answer straight away, but spent some moments apparently in deep communion with the floor at his feet. Eventually he lifted his head and studied Karryl’s troubled expression for a moment before replying. “All students who enter Thermera are told their particular kind of magic will not work here, partly for the very reason you just voiced, and also because, until now, it just happened to be true. Of course, we expect the new arrivals to try, which they almost invariably do, and have provided us with some very entertaining moments. It could be possible that the pressure you were under somehow enabled you to overcome the natural barriers, allowing your magic to work.
“Although the Thermerans can teach you many things, they firmly believe that what they term ‘natural magic’ is unnecessary, as it has proved to be so ineffective within their boundaries. Anyway, there appears to be no damage done, and your action may have prevented Master Tukrin from coming to any further harm.”
Karryl took a few moments to give that some thought. “That’s some consolation I suppose, but if magic isn’t used here, how come Tukrin was able to detect it, if that’s what he did?”
Magnor gently eased away from the subject. “Maybe he just saw or sensed something and went to investigate. That’s probably when the lights died.”
“You could be right about that. The Light of Perimus died as well. It’s not an indeterminate spell. I might not have been able to re-work it in here if Areel hadn’t done what he did.”
Magnor gave a deep, rumbling chuckle. Once again Karryl experienced a moment of elusive recognition. This time he managed to grasp it.
He straightened up and turned to Magnor, looking him accusingly in the eye. “I’ve just realised! You’re Dhoum! I thought there was something familiar about that chuckle of yours!
Magnor threw back his head and roared with laughter, the rich sound reverberating round the broad tunnel. Grasping the young magician’s shoulder, Magnor gave him a wide grin. “What took you so long?”
Karryl gave him a flat look. Unable to maintain it under Magnor’s open humour, he too allowed himself a wry smile. “I had other things on my mind for most of the time, but there have been moments when I felt that there was something about you I recognised but couldn’t quite put my finger on.” He contemplated his tall companion’s face for a moment. “Can all your people change into someone else, or is it something that’s peculiar to you personally? It’s not the first time either. You changed when we were at the Miller’s Rest in Vellethen. Does it take long to learn?”
Magnor looked unusually smug. “Fortunately, it is something I have never had to ‘learn.’ It is an ability with which all Grrybhñnös are born, although the extent of that ability varies from individual to individual. There are a small number of us who can take up to six different forms. No-one in our history has managed more. Six seems to be the limit.”
Karryl gave a puzzled frown. “That must present a few problems with the… what are your young called? Children? Cubs?”
Magnor grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “We call them Grrybblies of course! Anyway, it’s not until we’re well into adolescence that the ability manifests itself. We know we shall be able to do it, but it isn’t until then that we feel any desire to do so. Those with the greatest ability are enrolled in the Academy of Magicians. That is the path they follow, until in later life they can offer themselves for election to the Elders’ Table.”
Karryl stood in thoughtful silence for a few moments. “So, what is your true form?”
Arms folded, Magnor looked Karryl squarely in the eye. “The character you know as Dhoum is our true form. It’s a lot more comfortable than plodding about everywhere on just our hind legs. A body can move so much faster on four and sometimes six, than it can on only two.”
Karryl was unable to conceal his grin of incredulity. “You mean you have six legs?”
Magnor grinned back. “Four legs, six limbs. We can adapt our fore-limbs for ambulatory purpo
ses if the need arises.”
By this time, Karryl was totally fascinated. “Does that happen very often?”
Traces of pain and regret flickered briefly in Magnor’s eyes. His reply was not what Karryl had been expecting. “It does indeed, but most frequently was during a period of our history that we will never allow to be forgotten.”
He stood, head bowed, lost in contemplation for a long moment. When he lifted his head, moisture glistened in his eyes. “The things I am about to tell you are so far, known to only two others outside our race, one of whom is Master Symon.” Karryl gave a nod of tacit understanding. After a long moment’s thought, Magnor continued. “The world we now inhabit, a small part of which you have seen, is not our true home. Our race was banished from our home-world many generations ago. We were settled on a world which came closest to resembling our own.”
Karryl was both astounded and perplexed. “Why were you banished?”
Magnor’s steel blue eyes bored into Karryl’s dark ones. “For our own safety.”
The young magician frowned. “Why? Was there a war?”
Magnor looked pensive. Easing himself down onto the stone floor, he wrapped his arms around his knees. “There could have been. There were two other sentient races on our original homeworld, and they were about to enter into a major conflict over hunting rights.”
Karryl’s eyebrows hurtled upwards in disbelief. “Hunting rights? Whatever did they want to hunt that was so valuable to them it could cause a war?”
Magnor looked up at Karryl, a wry twist to his mouth. “Us. The Grrybhnnös. They hunted us for our pelts.”
Close to choking, hardly able to believe what he was hearing, Karryl slid his back down the iron gatepost until he was sitting beside Magnor. “I know your… um… fur… hair… looks very luxurious, but… I mean… what’s so… you know?”
Magnor gave him a sideways glance. “You don’t have to tiptoe round it. Our pelts are indeed luxurious. They are soft, warm and weather proof. Not only that, there is a vast colour range, from the purest white which is extremely rare, to a dense black which is also rare. The most common colours are russet and grey. Then, some of us have patches or stripes, but the rarest of all is the golden. Even a small piece of golden Grrybhñnös fur would command an almost exorbitant price.” In a subconscious gesture his hand moved to his throat. “So, we were not a race, merely a commodity.”
Karryl was appalled. “That’s disgusting. Didn’t they care that you were sentient beings? Why didn’t you just change yourselves to look like them?”
Magnor studied his hands for a moment. “At that time it wasn’t possible. It was only thanks to a group of sympathisers within one of the potentially warring races that we were able to escape at all. Unfortunately, our historians failed to fully record our means of escape, only that we ‘progressed through the dimensions’, accompanied by our sympathisers who apparently arranged it all.
“We were left on our new world. It was the original race of beings which dwelt there who, over the course of time, gave the Grrybhñnös the ability they now have to metamorphose. The ancient ones have since died out, but the ability they gave us is now part of our make-up. When the time is right it comes naturally.”
“Do you know what your home-world was like?”
“Only from a description written by one of the elders shortly after the Grrybhñnös settled in their new world. Speaking of which, I wish you’d had the opportunity to read it, because it’s just such a description that will be required of you when you return from your journey through the shift-portal.”
Not prepared for the change of subject, and still appalled by what Magnor had told him of the Grrybhñnös history, Karryl was listening with only half an ear.
The elder stood up and gave him a nudge. “Can you do that?”
“Uh? Sorry, Magnor. Do what?”
Magnor patiently explained again, and Karryl scrambled to his feet. “Are we going right now?”
“Shortly. This is what I was going to tell you before you side-tracked me onto Grrybhñnös history. Be prepared to accept whatever you see and hear in the land which is beyond the gate. You have heard both Areel and myself refer to it as a shift-portal. That means that it opens onto another world. In this case, it will be your own. However, say as little as possible and react even less. Suffice it to say that the one who came through there is a friend to us, even though he may be of enemy blood. He may tell you everything, or nothing. Store anything you see or hear in your mind, however trivial it may seem.”
Karryl studied Magnor from under gathered eyebrows. “Why do I get the feeling that you already know our strange visitor?”
The steely-eyed elder gazed intently back. “The fact is Areel and I have never met in person before this day.”
The young magician mulled the Grrybhñnös elder’s statement over in his mind, weighing up its implications.
When he next spoke, his voice was quiet, although his tone held a hint of accusation. “Then you have been in contact before?”
“Yes, many times, especially recently.”
“So, why did you draw your sword when he came through the portal?”
Magnor gave him a long-suffering look. “Because, I wasn’t certain it was him at first. He gave me no warning he was coming. You see, our friend, like a number of his tribe, is a skilled telepath. That is how he has been communicating with me. Along with that, he is also an extremely accomplished magician in both Rhamnic and Vedric.”
Karryl’s breath hissed through his teeth. “Vedric! If he is an ally, why does he use Vedric? I studied that discipline to some extent, and found it evil and abhorrent.”
A knowing glint appeared in Magnor’s eyes. He tapped the side of his nose with a thick forefinger. “In order to disable something effectively yet not destroy it, it is first necessary to know how it works. Be that as it may, he has had to shield his mind most carefully in order to accomplish what he has so far. However, it is not for me to tell what I know of him. It will be far better if he chooses to reveal such things to you himself.”
Karryl was beginning to feel just a little overwhelmed. He forced himself to remain focussed. “Could he read my mind?”
“Probably, but I doubt very much whether he would without your consent. He does need to know everything that has transpired so far though. It will help him to work out the best way to help you, but he won’t probe your mind if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
He gave Karryl a teasing poke on the shoulder. “Anyway, any magician worth his title should have no trouble shielding instantly.”
Karryl allowed himself a lop-sided grin, and turned to look along the tunnel. “You’re right, as usual. Have we got time to go and see Tukrin before we go through the portal?”
Magnor didn’t hesitate. “No. We might find it difficult to return here if we do. It’s best if we go through now, in case they send someone to look for us. The portal will close as soon as we’re through. If anyone comes they’ll think we’ve already gone back to the academy.”
He reached down and picked up the two lanterns the healers had left behind, handing one to Karryl. “Turn them down low. We don’t want to announce our arrival if we happen to come out on top of a mountain.”
Karryl turned back the wick until it bore only a small, steady blue flame then closed all the lantern’s shutters except one. Moonlight flooded through the shift-portal, bathing their legs and feet in its silver-white brilliance.
Magnor rumbled as he moved towards the portal. “Definitely time to go. We’ll step through together.”
The two magicians strode forward, lanterns held low. Side by side they lifted their feet over the shift-portal’s threshold.
CHAPTER TWENTYSIX
They emerged onto a vast level area of hard-packed, pebble-strewn sand at the top of a mile--long shallow incline. At the bottom of this hunched the silent bulk of a city, the deep shadows of its heavy dark shapes ominous under the cold moonlight.
Karr
yl tilted back his head. Turning slowly on the spot he studied the sky. He couldn’t hide the disgust in his voice. “We’re in Naboria.”
Magnor nodded. “I thought we might be.”
A deep, almost human sigh caused them both to spin round. The last vestiges of the shift-portal evaporated behind them like wisps of pale smoke into the still night air.
Karryl frowned. “I thought portals always went ‘pop’.”
Magnor rubbed his chin. “Not compulsory apparently.”
Karryl’s answering grin faded rapidly as Magnor turned to look down the long incline towards the city. “If that’s not our friend then we’re caught in the open with no way back.”
Karryl followed his gaze. “Well, it certainly looks like… oh!”
With a barely audible cat’s paw of sound, Areel was suddenly standing no more than two paces in front of them. He made a slight but respectful bow. “My heart is glad that you chose to follow, but you will not need the lanterns. Please, place them on the ground.”
No sooner had Karryl and Magnor released their hold on them than the two lanterns shimmered and vanished.
Areel gestured down the long sandy slope. “If you will come with me I will take you into the city.”
Forcing himself to prevent his feelings of suspicion and animosity revealing themselves in his voice, Karryl stepped forward and looked into the dark eyes which glinted above black fabric. “Why have you brought us here?”
Their black clad companion offered no reply, but signalled that they should follow. It seemed that he was intent on leading them out into the desert as he turned to his left and away from the city. After striding out for a few hundred yards he stopped, holding up a hand for them to do the same.
As they drew up beside him he looked from one to the other. “The desert is a place of many dangers and many illusions my friends.”