The Bowl of Souls: Book 05 - Mother of the Moonrat

by Trevor H. Cooley

  “It was a terrible tragedy, but . . .” Locksher didn’t look up, but kept his eyes focused on the ground in front of his chair. “Was he successful?”

  “Partially,” the prophet said, giving the wizard an appraising look. “The bond was torn free from the Creator’s control. Stardeon was able to connect his mind to the body of another and see it from the inside as a bonding sees his wizard. But the link was temporary and it was physical only. He couldn’t hear the thoughts of those he connected to in that manner.

  “In addition, he would never be able to truly bond again. Not that he ever believed that. I don’t think Stardeon truly understood just how much damage he had done until the end of his life. I believe that part of his reason for creating the rogue horses was the hope that he would one day make a creature so perfect that his bond would trigger despite the damage.

  “His best chance to bond again actually came the day he returned to his keep. Mellinda was there alone waiting for him. Both of them knew something was wrong right away. Mellinda saw that Stardeon’s magic looked strange and Stardeon noticed that both her bonds were gone.

  “They shared their stories. Stardeon held nothing back, but Mellinda was too ashamed to tell him how far things has gone with Gregory. When they finished their tales, both of them felt hollow inside. Mellinda tried to bond with him then and there, but she couldn’t. There was not enough of his power left to latch onto. It had all been bound into the rings.”

  “But what happened to Mellinda between the time she left her bonded and the time she returned home?” Master Latva asked. “What did the Dark Prophet ask of her? How did she get away from him?”

  “I can only tell you what she told Stardeon, but I believe it to be true. The Dark Prophet asked nothing of her. He offered to teach her how to use her unfettered bonding magic and told her that he could help her become more powerful than she had ever imagined. When she refused, he let her leave.”

  “He let her go that easily?” Justan asked in surprise.

  John snorted. “The Dark Prophet never lets a powerful prospect go; not really. As far as he was concerned, she was his servant already. He knew she would return to him again and when she did, he would make his conditions known.

  “In the meantime, Mellinda was free to delude herself into thinking that she had gotten away from him without conditions. Still she missed her bonded terribly. She felt alone in a way she had never thought possible.”

  “Why didn’t she just bond to something else then?” Zambon asked. “She had the power to bond herself to whatever she wanted, right?”

  “Sure, but bond herself to what?” Justan asked. “That would be a hard choice. With the way her other bonds ended, she had to have been terrified of making a mistake with whomever she bonded to next.”

  “Precisely,” John said. “Stardeon was the only choice she had been sure of and that didn’t work. She was too afraid to take another bonded.

  “When Stardeon saw how miserable she was, he had an idea. He would use his new powers to create a bonded for her; one that would never disappoint. When he told Mellinda his idea, she became excited. They planned it together, thinking of all the aspects that would be desirable in their perfect bonded.

  “But as they got further into the process it soon became evident to Mellinda that there was something amiss. She couldn’t understand many of the concepts Stardeon was talking about. Then one day it hit her. The intelligence she had gained through her bond with Dixie had faded away.

  “Stardeon suspected the same, but he didn’t say anything. Mellinda began to withdraw into herself more and more. When they made their first attempt to create a rogue horse, the result was a mess. It lived for only a few hours before falling apart. Stardeon was encouraged, but Mellinda was repulsed. She was sure that it was all her fault.

  “Stardeon became so focused on his work that he didn’t notice how hard she was taking each subsequent failure. Finally it became too much for her. One morning Stardeon awoke to find that she was gone. Her only explanation was in a note she left behind stating that she was going to do some research in Alberri.

  “Did he go after her?” Fist asked.

  “It didn’t occur to him that she could be gone for good. Besides, he hoped she would find another gnome to bond to. Then perhaps she would come back more like the Mellinda he married,” the prophet explained.

  “So where did she go?” Jhonate asked.

  “She returned to the Dark Prophet,” John said. “I don’t know if that was her intention the day she left, but whatever her intentions were, she ended up at his side. Stardeon didn’t see her again until many years later and when he did, she was nothing like the woman he married.”

  A loud knock echoed through the hall and everyone’s eyes moved to the doors.

  “You had better go see to them, Sir Edge,” the prophet said.

  Justan blinked in surprise. “It’s for me?”

  The doors creaked open and Wizard Valtrek poked his head in. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

  “Not at all, Valtrek,” John said. “Sir Edge will be right with you.”

  “But what about the story?” Justan asked.

  John smiled. “Don’t worry, the rest of the tale I am telling tonight deals with Stardeon and the rogue horses. I believe you know what happens.”

  “Oh . . . okay, I guess.” Justan said, though he was disappointed. There were several gaps in the tale that he had been hoping the prophet would fill in.

  “I’ll tell you what you missed later, Justan,” Fist promised.

  Me too, said Gwyrtha.

  Justan nodded and gave Jhonate a smile, then walked to the doors and stepped into the hallway where Valtrek was waiting.

  The wizard looked just as Justan remembered. His long white hair hung thick about his shoulders in stark contrast to his dark eyebrows and neatly trimmed beard. He was wearing the white ambassador’s robes that Justan had seen him wear in the academy council room nearly two years prior.

  Valtrek smiled and shook his hand. “So good to see you, Sir Edge!”

  “It is good to see you too, Master,” Justan replied. The words felt strange coming out of his mouth, but it was true. Any trace of bitterness he felt towards the man in the past had faded away. Whatever his tactics, Valtrek had been looking out for him all along.

  He opened his mouth to ask what the wizard wanted of him, but his breath stuck in his throat. Someone else was in the hallway with them.

  Vannya stood a short distance away, leaning against the wall between two large portraits of named wizards from the distant past. She had her arms folded and her plump lips clenched tight together. She was staring straight ahead, not looking in his direction.

  Valtrek glanced over at her and his smile faded. “Please come with me, Sir Edge. We need to have a talk.”

  Chapter Five

  Justan followed behind Valtrek as he walked away from the Hall of Majesty, acutely aware that Vannya was just a few paces back, her eyes boring into him. He looked back and her eyes darted away as if she hadn’t been watching him at all.

  “So, uh. Where are we heading, Master?” Justan asked. It grated him a bit to call the wizard by that title. Technically Justan was still Valtrek’s apprentice and that was the proper way to say it, but in his mind, Coal would always be his master.

  Valtrek opened the door to the stairwell. “My offices. They are here in the Rune Tower.”

  “Oh,” Justan headed down the spiral staircase after him. “What is it that we need to speak about?”

  “I would rather not go over specifics until we get there,” Valtrek replied. “There are things I wish to say in a private setting. We have been apart for a long time and I would like a progress report.”

  “I understand.” Justan said, suddenly hopeful that this wasn’t about Vannya at all. Still, it brought another concern to his mind. “About Master Coal-.”

  “Just wait until we arrive, Edge,” the wizard said a tad sharply, surprising Justan with hi
s tone.

  “Father is concerned about something, Edge,” Vannya said from a few steps behind him. “I’m not sure what it is, but he has been tight-lipped from the moment I arrived back.”

  “That’s enough, Mage Vannya,” Valtrek snapped.

  She grunted in irritation and Justan’s eyebrows rose. He couldn’t remember the wizard speaking to his daughter that way in the past. What was making Valtrek so cautious? What did he have to say that could not be discussed inside the Rune Tower?

  They descended the rest of the stairs in silence and walked out into the high-ceilinged hallway where the portal to the academy had been not long ago. But whereas the hallway had been packed with people when Justan first came through, it was now quite empty. Justan looked through the narrow window on the wall in front of them and saw that it was dark outside.

  “What time is it?” he asked. Just how long had they been in the Hall of Majesty with the prophet?

  “It is just after the eight o’clock bell,” Valtrek said out of hand. “Don’t worry. I heard that none of you had eaten so I had some food brought to my offices,”

  “Oh thanks,” Justan said, though the thought of eating while his bonded were sitting hungry in the hall above made him feel guilty. “What about the others? Shouldn’t we-?”

  “I hadn’t forgotten them,” Valtrek replied and no sooner had the words left the wizard’s mouth, a group of kitchen workers passed by carrying plates, a basket of bread and a large covered platter.

  Justan watched them enter the curving stairwell and his sensitive nose caught the smell of something rich and beefy; most likely covered in gravy. His mouth watered and suddenly he found himself looking forward to arriving at Valtrek’s offices. “But what about Gwyrtha? She-.”

  Another man followed after them, a glum look on his face as he carried a large roll of hay and a bag of oats slung over his shoulder.

  “He couldn’t have timed that better.” Vannya snorted and rolled her eyes. “You loved that, didn’t you, father? He always loves it when that sort of thing happens.”

  “Timing is everything.” Valtrek continued on without looking back at them but Justan could hear the smile in his voice. “There is no better way to punctuate your words than perfectly timed proof of their veracity.”

  Justan blinked. Providing food for the group was a pretty minor point to be proud of. He had come to learn that Valtrek was more than just a manipulative schemer, but the man’s satisfaction at making himself look good reminded Justan of why he had resented him for so long.

  “Where is your office, Master?” he asked.

  “Oh, it’s just a short distance away,” Valtrek replied. “On a lower floor.”

  Once more Justan was surprised. In his past experience, the faculty of the Mage School kept their personal spaces on higher floors of the Rune Tower. Below ground level was where they kept their prisoners and stores and . . . Justan wasn’t quite sure what all else was down there. In fact, he wasn’t sure how far down the Rune Tower went.

  The histories were quite vague about the Rune Tower’s vertical dimensions in either direction actually. It was one of those irritating Mage School mysteries that Justan found especially frustrating because it was so pointless. Why not just come out and say how big the tower was?

  Vannya giggled. Justan turned to look at her and saw that she was now walking right next to him, a knowing smile plastered on her face.

  “What?” he asked.

  “It’s that look on your face.” She shook her head, but the smile didn’t leave her mouth. “It reminds me of the way you always looked when I’d see you in the library. You get so irritated when you don’t understand something.”

  “That’s true.” Justan found himself returning her smile. This felt like the Vannya he remembered. It was the first time she had sounded like herself since she had kissed him. “I can’t stand not knowing something.”

  Her smile faltered and she looked away, clearing her throat. “Father keeps his offices on the lower levels because there’s less foot traffic there.”

  “Oh. I see,” he said, though it still didn’t explain why that was important. Vannya crossed her arms and her brow furrowed again. The familiar moment had passed. Had he said something wrong? “Why is that so important to him?”

  “You’ll see shortly,” Valtrek answered, looking back over his shoulder to shoot Vannya a warning glare. “We go down here.”

  The wizard stopped at an unassuming doorway and opened it inward. He entered, heading down some stairs. Justan followed behind him a bit puzzled. Wizards in the Rune Tower rarely let a doorway go undecorated. Yet the door was unpolished wood and the stairwell within was made of plain stone, a fact more odd than the door itself. Even the work closets Justan had used when cleaning the library as a cadet had marble floors.

  They descended two flights of stairs before Valtrek came to another door, this one looking old and weathered. The hallway beyond was dimly lit and dusty, as if visits here were rare. There were only a few sets of tracks in the dust and they looked fairly recent. Justan began to wonder if he was being led here by some false pretense. What if they weren’t heading to Valtrek’s offices at all?

  “Um, Master? Why is it so . . . dirty down here?” he asked.

  “You are wondering why I would choose to stay in such a place, aren’t you?” Valtrek said with a chuckle. “This area is warded against prying ears so I shall tell you. The dust lets me know if someone has been through the area. I smooth it out behind me every time I leave.”

  Justan frowned, but before he said anything Valtrek added, “I also have this hallway warded so that I will know if someone else uses magic to cover their tracks. The footprints you see now are from the kitchen workers that brought your dinner.”

  “I don’t understand. Why go through so much trouble? Why the secrecy?” Justan asked. “We are inside the Rune Tower after all. What is there to fear?”

  “I can never be too careful. Even the other council members often have agendas that oppose my own.” Valtrek stopped outside a door as weathered as the last. He paused with his hand on the door handle. “But I must admit that I am not usually as cautious as this. Lately there have been some . . . unfortunate breaches of security.”

  The wizard opened the door and stepped inside, motioning for them to follow. Valtrek’s office wasn’t nearly as opulent as the other wizard’s rooms he had seen, but it was spacious and clean. There were several desks with orderly stacks of papers on them, several padded chairs, and the floor was covered in clay tiles that radiated warmth. In truth, it seemed all rather cozy to Justan.

  At one table sat a large covered platter that drew his eyes immediately. Justan’s mouth watered. He could sense that Fist and Gwyrtha were eating already. The ogre’s happiness oozed through the bond.

  Is it good? he asked while heading over to the platter.

  They didn’t give me meat, Gwyrtha said with a grump, but the hay and oats were of high quality and there wasn’t any edge to her discontent.

  It isn’t spicy, Fist said and Justan knew he wore a wide grin. They hadn’t had much other than Lenny’s cooking for weeks and the ogre was so enjoying his meal that Justan could almost taste the mouthful of gravy covered bread Fist was chewing.

  “Go on,” Valtrek said, seeing the hunger on his face. “We can talk while you eat.”

  Justan lifted the cover, releasing a small cloud of heavenly steam. He had been right about the scent in the hallway above. Tender chunks of stewed beef and carrots in deep brown gravy were covering cubes of fried potatoes. He pulled up a chair and scooped a large spoonful into his mouth. Justan let out a small moan. He had forgotten how wonderful the food at the Mage School could be.

  As he ate, Vannya and Valtrek sat across from him. Once the immediacy of his hunger had faded, Justan looked up at the two of them. The wizard was peering at him thoughtfully while Vannya just stared at the tabletop in front of her, picking at a small round knot in the wood with her fingernail.
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  Justan swallowed and picked up a hand towel to wipe his chin. “Sorry. Please forgive my manners.”

  “Why apologize to us?” Valtrek said. “It’s not as if we haven’t been hungry before. Why just an hour ago Vannya was stuffing her face just as loudly as you.”

  “Was I really that loud?” Justan asked.

  “Father!” Vannya said, her face red.

  Valtrek’s eyes didn’t leave Justan. “I must say, Edge, you really do look quite different from the day you left the school. You’ve grown.”

  “Bonding with an ogre can do that to you,” Justan said. He glanced down at the broad musculature that filled out his shirt. “I gained a lot of this from Fist.”

  “Yes, I heard about your ogre from Master Coal,” Valtrek said. The mention of his dead master’s name gave Justan’s heart a sudden lurch.

  “About Master Coal,” Justan said. “He . . .”

  “I know, Edge,” Valtrek said sadly. “He and I weren’t exactly close, but I liked him. I hope his bonded are okay.”

  “They should be,” Justan said. He told the wizard about Tamboor’s naming and the passing of the bond.

  “Fascinating,” Valtrek said. “And you say that when he was named, he wore a wizard rune? Tamboor the Fearless? The berserker?”

  Justan shrugged. “I don’t understand it myself. But that’s what happened. The prophet seemed to take it all in stride.”

  “I see,” Valtrek replied and Justan could see the wizard’s mind working on the matter. “And what else did the prophet do?”

  “Well, he started to tell us a tale . . .” Justan paused. John hadn’t told them to keep the truth of Stardeon and Mellinda a secret, but he had only invited their small group. “I’m not sure what I can and cannot share. Do you mind if I ask the prophet first?”

  Valtrek paused as if considering whether or not to press the issue.