by Bob Blink
Moments later another message was received. Shyar read it to herself, then looking at Jolan a bit oddly read it aloud so all could hear.
“Therasi invites Jolan to breakfast whenever he can make it.”
Oh for the love of God, thought Jolan. What perfect timing.
Shyar wasn’t the only one in the room looking at him oddly when he explained to the group. “Therasi is the King’s daughter. I sort of accidentally broke into her property one morning when I was sight-seeing around the city.”
With the telegraph a resounding success and the rifle training complete, Jolan found himself with more time on his hands than he’d had in a while. He’d explained to Shyar about Therasi, and he thought he’d made it clear that was all there was to the matter, but he hadn’t gotten another of those desirable lip melds again either, so now he was a bit uncertain as to where he stood. He also knew he was now on a track like the rest of his fellows at the College, and could no longer hold out hope for advancement through the knowledge locked in his brain. He didn’t have the spell for the Nexus, and the spells inside his head weren’t going to turn the war around either. Something else was going to happen or he would be a long time reaching his somewhat mediocre limits as a mage.
He had raised the matter one evening at the Tankard with Ronoran and Luzoke.
“So you’re the same as everybody else now. What’s so bad with that?”
“The problem is that I thought I was going to be able to find a way to change things. Now it appears that Cheurt has the edge, and the future is very uncertain. I can’t go back and warn my world, and I don’t have access to the things I hoped might make a difference here on Gaea. Plus, I keep thinking I failed Asari. This hasn’t turned out the way I expected.”
Ronoran looked at Luzoke and let out a heavy breath. “We could take him down into. .”
“You said you’d never do that again,” hissed Luzoke, looking around guiltily.
Jolan had lost track of the conversation. He looked at Luzoke and asked, “What are you guys talking about?”
‘Nothing. Forget it,” Luzoke said.
“Luzoke,” Ronoran said quietly. “Why not?”
“Do you know what they would do if we got caught?’
“Got caught doing what?” asked Jolan, still trying to wedge himself into the discussion.
“We know I can do it,” Ronoran insisted. “Besides, there’s a good reason now.”
“The Council won’t see it that way.”
“The Council isn’t ever going to know,” insisted Ronoran.
“Damnit guys. What are we talking about?” said Jolan a bit too loudly and getting a glare from his two friends.
After looking around furtively, Ronoran leaned his way and whispered, “The sealed documents room.”
“The what?”
“Come on Jolan. You know the Council has a policy of suppressing certain information, and filtering whatever is released to the general community of mages. I even help with some of the new stuff as it’s being examined. A lot of the really sensitive stuff is pretty heavily warded and sealed. They don’t let me see too much, but I’ve gotten an idea what is there. Where do you think all of that stuff is kept?”
“I hadn’t thought about it actually,” he admitted.
“Well, there’s a special area below the main library. You can only get down there by going behind the master’s desk at the front of the library. Down two levels is the entrance. Its sealed and warded against anyone getting in. I mean they used some serious wards.”
“And you two have been down there?” Jolan asked surprised.
“We were a bit drunk,” admitted Luzoke. Ronoran told me about it, and I didn’t believe him. So he took me down to show me. Damn fool slipped through the wards and seals like they weren’t even there. Scared me pissless.”
When he became convinced they weren’t kidding, Jolan asked, “What’s in there?”
“We didn’t have time to see,” complained Ronoran. “Ole chickenshit here wanted us to get out of there right away. So we left. Made me promise not to go down there again. Never really had a reason, so I never have. Now maybe, we have a reason.”
Several days passed before Ronoran felt conditions were right for the attempt. Reluctantly Luzoke joined them on the break-in, claiming he didn’t want to be a mage anyway. He assumed they’d be expelled or worse before the week was out.
“It doesn’t look like much,” Jolan whispered when the three stood before the two double doors that Ronoran said lead to the locked area.
The wall was solid stone, and Jolan could sense the power enhancement running inside the rock. The doors themselves were thick solid slabs of jinga wood, with metals bands embedded into the surface. A stout lock held the metal bar in place, and strong power fields could be sensed from the wards and seals that had been cast to keep the area secure.
“What happens if we trip the seals?”
“King’s Guard and half the instructor mages at the Collge will be down here before we can even twitch,” said Luzoke morosely.
“So what do we do?” sked Jolan.
“Watch,” said Ronoran. He faced the doors and Jolan could sense the power building in him. Whatever he did, Jolan could not catch, but suddenly the center area of the two doors started to distort and swirl. Within moments a large hole, as tall as a man, formed in the middle of the shimmering waves that rippled across the surface of the seal that covered the door.
“Come on,” ordered Ronoran as he stepped into the hole, passing through where the doors ought to be, and entered the room. Jolan followed after him, with Luzoke nervously bringing up the rear. Once they were all safely inside, Ronoran released his spell, and the hole closed up silently behind them.
“Wouldn’t want anyone to come along and notice that,” he said. “We’ll make another when we want to leave.”
“What if someone is waiting outside?”
“I’ll make a little one and have a peek first.”
“Can you teach me how to do that?” Jolan asked in all seriousness.
“Nope,” Ronoran answered. “A lot of the senior staff would like to know how I do it. Can’t teach them either. I just can. Has something to do with my limitations they think, but after ten years no one has any idea how I do it.”
“Let’s get this done and get out,” Luzoke suggested.
“Okay, but tell me where we are,” said Jolan looking at the disarray around him. Everywhere he’d been in the libraries here before were well kept and ordered. Here there were piles of scrolls, and boxes of other materials everywhere. Along the walls were partially filled shelves, again with hundreds of scrolls lying haphazardly in the slots.
“This is the active area. It’s the only place I’ve been officially before. We didn’t go beyond here the last time, but it’s where the stuff that’s being looked at or returned for storage is brought to the senior mages that actually are allowed access. Here, look.”
Ronoran reached out and pulled a book off one of the shelves and handed it to Jolan.
“It’s blank,” Jolan said, as he flipped through the pages.
“Warded,” explained Ronoran. It’s one of the things I do for them. Someone has to break the wards so the text becomes visible. Some of the wards are silly little things, but sometimes they are pretty wild. I seem to be able to get through the ones no one else can.”
“Can you break this one?”
“Of course, but I’m not going to. We have to leave everything just as we found it or someone will figure out we were here. That means nothing leaves. Nothing. Anything in this room would trigger another set of wards as soon as it got outside the protection of the room. Remember that. Nothing leaves.”
“Show me the rest,” Jolan encouraged.
“This will be new to all of us, so we are just going to have to explore and see what we can find. It’s probably going to take more than just this one night.”
Ronoran led them to the stairway at the far end of the room,
and as they each made their own light, they started down to the lower levels.
“This is right,” Jolan said suddenly.
“What do you mean?” asked Luzoke. “I know we’re crazy, but what do you mean by “it’s right”?”
“Sometimes I seem to be able to find things, for no reason I can explain. I got the staff by going into a shop I had no interest in. I just knew I was supposed to. Same thing here. I know there’s something important here somewhere.”
“Well go get it and let’s get out of here,” Luzoke encouraged.
“I doubt it’s going to be that simple.”
There were six levels, and each floor was as large as the main floor of the open library above. Some areas were cataloged, containing materials that had been reviewed and put down here for safe keeping. Two whole floors contained materials that had yet to be unboxed. Another floor had documents that were warded yet again. They must be something that really concerned the staff Jolan thought as they passed.
He looked at a few books on the shelves that contained items that had been stored away after review. Many of the spells he found were only usable by a level nine and up. No one probably needed to worry about them. There were no nines or tens from what he’d been told.
By the time they completed the walk-through of all levels, it was getting very late. Ronoran suggested they leave and make plans to return and approach the floors more systematically now that they understood the layout.
“Can we tell the others?” Jolan asked.
“What others?”
“Just our group. You know; the six of us. This would go faster if we had some additional help.”
“Secrets don’t keep if too many know about them,” objected Ronoran. “Let’s talk about it later.”
Chapter 66
Luzoke stayed awake for a long time that night thinking about their trip below the library. This was the second time he’d been in the protected area, the first being when he and Ronoran had been drinking and they’d gone down there as a dare to each other. When Ronoran had told him about the place, he hadn’t really believed it existed, or more importantly that they’d be able to get inside. Once they’d breached the security and actually gone inside the implications of what they were doing suddenly struck home to him. He wasn’t afraid being there. Not afraid, afraid. He was more concerned. He had too much imagination and he could envision what might happen to them if the Council discovered their invasion. It wasn’t as if they could claim they hadn’t realized what they were doing. The wards and seals made it pretty obvious to anyone with half a brain that this was forbidden territory. It wasn’t like the other little restrictions the students tried to get around as a challenge. This room represented one of the cornerstones of the philosophy of the college.
Luzoke wanted to be a mage. It was more important to him than anything. Failure would also be a major disappointment to his family, and would have long term consequences to their well being. Luzoke wasn’t like Ronoran. Ron’s family had money. It didn’t matter whether he would some day be able to bring home a substantial annual earning. He also had a talent the mages needed. There would be reason for them to find a way to overlook his sneaking in there. Besides, he’d been there before officially, so it wasn’t the same. Luzoke knew he wasn’t anything special. He was really powerful with his shields and his “beams”, but otherwise he was just another mage. His talents lay in areas they didn’t really favor, and while they wanted to understand his talent, it was more curiosity than need.
His father had been a tradesmage, but had died from the sleeping sickness plague when Luzoke was only eight years old. His mother also had a bit of the talent, so it wasn’t surprising that he’d been tested to have it as well. His strength had been discovered quite early. Unlike his two older sisters, who could barely light a candle, they’d said he’d be quite strong. His younger brother was much like his sisters, and wouldn’t even qualify to be a tradesmage like their father. His mother had been very proud, but had asked if he could delay his admissions, since she needed him around the house. Therefore he’d waited until his younger brother had grown old enough to take over the chores he had been doing after his father’s death. That had meant he was older than most everyone in his class, and he’d faced some of what Jolan had experienced when he’d finally come to the College. His situation was better, because unlike Jolan, his skill was obvious, but it still took some time to start making friends. Ronoran had been the first to really open up to him, and the little group they’d formed had been the closest bunch of friends he’d ever had in his life. Being with Jolan and the others gave him a bit of status in addition to a warm feeling of belonging. So he was conflicted. He didn’t want to risk his current membership in the group either. That meant he’d go along, if he could. He didn’t want his friends to think he was a coward, or that he didn’t care about Jolan’s concerns.
He’d also learned that Jolan was a participant in a lot more than he’d realized. Ronoran had been around the College for a while, and everyone knew he had an unusual position because of his one talent. But Jolan mingled with the Chancellor, and even had meetings with the King. The other day he’d caught Jolan and Ronoran talking, and after enough pestering had gotten them to tell him what they were so intense about. Jolan had finally told him what he had learned about the roles that mages might play in a war. This was important, especially to Luzoke, who would very likely be one of those tapped to serve because of his unique ability. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the discovery. Happy, in a way. He’d talked a bit to Jolan in the previous weeks and his friend’s obvious disregard for some of the codes the College expressed for mages rung true to him. There hadn’t been a war with Ale’ald in his lifetime, but he had heard the stories and felt that every effort to resist them should be used if another were to start. That he might be able to help made him feel proud, if a bit nervous. He knew that Ronoran could never serve. He was far too weak. This would be one time he could stand above his friend.
As a member of their little group, he’d learned of the secret projects Jolan was working on. He knew of the rifles. Since the story of Jolan’s pistol had circulated when he’d first been admitted, he had an idea of what the weapon might be able to do, even if he’d never seen one, at least not yet. The telegraph they had just tested sounded like a miracle. The ability to communicate with someone as far away as Seret almost instantaneously was almost beyond imagining. Jolan had shown him the small little box he often carried and had explained that where he came from he could use that to talk, with his voice, to someone anywhere in his world. Jolan claimed everyone had one, so it was easy. Luzoke wondered what other miracles Jolan would come up with.
Tomas had been one of those who’d been invited to witness the testing of the new communications device his friend Jolan had developed in Angon. Since his father had taken sick, Tomas spent a great deal of his time now filling in for him in his position as a member of the Parliament. The King had wanted the Parliament to see the test, and help him evaluate the potential of this new invention. Of course, the fact of his friendship with Jolan was well known, and that had certainly played a part in his being party to the test.
Tomas was impressed with the device, but could tell the King was a little less so. The King wondered if there was some unseen advantage to Angon by having this type of communication, especially since a similar line was being installed to the capital of Kimlelm. He voiced concern it might affect the trading arrangements that were in place. Tomas actually suspected the King didn’t like the fact he was now on the spot to make swift decisions, the line taking away his ability to seclude himself with his advisors and get help forming his every answer.
Jolan had written Tomas two letters since he’d been in Cobalo. The first had come some time ago, thanking him and his father for their help, and telling him that he’d indeed been in to see the Council of Mages. The second was more recent, and had told him that he was now in the College there, had advanced significantly in power
, and that an attempt had been made on his life. That event, along with everything else Jolan had learned made Tomas even more convinced that war would be coming soon and that he should prepare accordingly and encourage similar preparations among his friends and the government.
A war would not be good for Seret anytime actually, but now especially. The King had been elected in a landslide many years ago, but the office had changed the man. He had been corrupted by the power, but also intimidated by the vast span of matters for which he had suddenly become totally responsible. It was clear to Tomas that the King now merely hoped to survive the remaining couple of years in office, and hoped that nothing would arise to challenge him in the meantime. The man simply wasn’t up to running a war. Tomas couldn’t help wondering what would happen if the man was still in power when the war started. Would there even be elections. He’d hope his father, or perhaps Lord Kimir might win the throne. Either would be a strong leader, although unless his father’s health improved soon, there was little chance of him being a candidate.
Tomas had started working in the background. He talked to members of the council that he respected. He also petitioned leaders of business. Gradually he was building up a groundswell supporting the increase in funding for more troops, additional weapons, and general preparations for war. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. He couldn’t help wishing they had a King more like King Otar of Angon.
King Otar was relatively pleased with himself for the show he’d just put on. For a man of his age, he’d delivered quite admirably. He was still amazed at how many young and desirable young women were willing to couple with an old man like himself. He knew it was the position, not him personally, but he didn’t care any longer. His second wife had been gone a long time, and he was long past thinking he could remarry and be happy. He was an old man and set in his ways. This way was better.