by T. H. Lain
Tall buildings, three and four stories in height, framed the main road on either side. Smaller streets leading off the main thoroughfare quickly twisted away into tenement-lined alleys, courtyards filled with tents, bazaars, and shops, only to spill out unexpectedly onto another large road. A thousand exotic smells wafted through the air, and the languages of many people and races mingled into a single buzz. To the east, the buildings gave way to warehouses and then to docks, where the river merchants bought and sold their wares. Many things could be had in New Koratia, some truly marvelous and exotic. The city's market district was the wonder of the region.
Farther along the main avenue, gilded towers rose to majestic heights. The duchy's nobles lived there. The towers were striking to behold as they sparkled in the sun, but even these paled when compared to the glistening cylinder of glass that floated without visible support above the city's center. It was carved with many balconies and stairways, and its tip shone brilliantly with a light all its own. Low-drifting clouds sometimes got entangled among the highest balconies, the people of New Koratia liked to tell strangers.
"Though I've never before seen it, I've heard it described; that is the Floating Crystal, home to the famed College of Wizardry," said Hennet. "They sponsor the Duel Arcane every three years."
The gnome nodded, and added, "I bet the city's thick with our ilk, Hennet. They've come from all over to compete. I can smell the magic." He gave a demonstrative sniff, then winked.
Ember said, "It's time I sought the Order of the Enabled Hand. My warning can't wait."
"And we must hasten to the Floating Crystal. We need to sign up for the duel straight away," replied Nebin.
Hennet looked a little sad as he helped Ember and Brek Gorunn pack up their belongings from the wagon. He said, "Though we've traveled together only a few days, you are both friends to me." Hennet glanced at Ember as he said the last, then looked quickly away.
"My friendship was won when you rescued me from the cellar," replied Brek. "I give you Moradin's blessing and our thanks. We'll meet again, I'm certain."
Ember nodded, half listening to the dwarf but obviously impatient to be about her business.
Hennet spoke in a rush. "Let's not leave it up to chance. Perhaps we can meet later this week? Nebin and I will be competing in the duel; perhaps you can come see us? We're staying at the Cuttlestone, a tavern just up the street from here."
He motioned to a nearby signboard, on which vacant rooms were advertised at several inns, including the Cuttlestone.
"I do not know what the Order will ask of me," said Ember. "Better we make no plans now, lest we be forced to break them later. What will be, will be. Good luck in the duel."
She patted Hennet on the shoulder. With that, the monk and the dwarf turned and walked into the mass of people on the great avenue. Soon, they were lost from sight.
Nebin nudged his friend, as Hennet watched them go. "We'll see them again," he chided. "Come on, or we'll be late."
Hennet sighed, returned to his seat, and headed the wagon down the crowded streets of New Koratia.
The sorcerer and the diminutive wizard found a clean-enough barn in New Koratia where they could stable their horses. The rent for keeping their wagon was more than they were willing to pay; Hennet solved the problem by selling it to the stablemaster. With the extra money, they could afford better lodging at the Cuttlestone.
Hennet and Nebin pushed through the crush of people heading toward the Floating Crystal. Without such an obvious landmark, they'd have been hard pressed to find the location of the Duel Arcane. Soon enough they stood at the edge of a large, open space beneath the hovering tower. Nebin could feel the tower's presence above even while not looking. Despite his wizardly training, his unconscious mind had decided that the building was about to crash down. He didn't share this feeling with Hennet, who seemed oblivious to the hanging threat.
The clear space was a coliseum. It was open on one end, but the other half was built up in great stone seats, like a half-bowl. The coliseum's floor was divided into more than a dozen circular areas. Scores of people, most of them in robes, some in outlandish costumes, including one woman with a brilliantly glowing glass cape, congregated across the floor of the coliseum. Some circles contained people who chanted, waved their hands, and occasionally released displays of magical energy.
"The preliminaries have already started!" said Hennet.
The two hurried down to an official-looking elfin bright green robes. The elf, like a few others, had the emblem of a floating tower on his robe. He looked up.
"We're here to compete in the Duel Arcane, if we are not too late," said Hennet.
The elf raised an elegant eyebrow, then grinned.
"You fear that you have missed the deadline, yes? Not to worry. Preliminaries conclude today. Are you entering the competition for the Golden Wand? Neither of you is secretly an arcane master masquerading as a novice caster?" He produced a monocle from a silk pouch, brought it to his eye, and squinted at them through it. "No, I would know. Very well, that's your group."
The elf pointed toward a gathering near the middle of the coliseum, and Hennet and Nebin wound their way out onto the floor, following the official's directions. The seats of the coliseum were mostly empty. The preliminaries were not nearly as exciting as the main events of the Duel Arcane. The people in the stands at this early stage would be mostly professional gamblers and bookmakers, trying to pick up every tidbit of information they could on possible winners. Nebin had been told that the main event drew over ten thousand spectators. His stomach fluttered at the thought.
They reached their group, which included an elf woman in a blue tunic holding a wand, a halfling man with a dwarf-like beard, and three humans.
Another official wearing the badge of the floating tower pointed to the elf woman and said, "Follow me, please."
She paled, but obliged, and was led toward one of the circles.
One of the humans turned and grinned at Nebin. "She shouldn't be so nervous," he said. "These are the preliminaries. All we need to do is show magical proficiency."
The man pointed at a pebble lying near his feet. A ghostly hand appeared, picked up the pebble, and dropped it in one of Nebin's pockets.
The man laughed and added. "I'm sure we're all up to that. By the way, my name is Aganon. Aganon Redstone."
Nebin warmed to the man, who appeared both so friendly and so confident at the same time. A bit like himself, he fancied.
"I am Nebin Raulnor, adept of the Secret Flame."
"Secret Flame, eh? I haven't heard of that enchantment."
Nebin grinned. "Then, watch and learn, my friend!"
The gnome lowered his goggles, then loosed the same spell he had used several days earlier at the Inn of the Fair Warrior. It rarely failed to impress. As before, he created the image of a ball of raging fire. This time, he placed the ball several feet above his head. Phantom sparks rained down, partially cloaking him in fauxfire. He spread his arms wide to promote his own spectacle.
"Ah, see, the Secret Flame responds to my every whim!"
Those standing in the group with Nebin, Aganon, and Hennet studied the floating flame, but quickly turned back to study the field—it was hard to impress a wizard with a wizard's trick. To Nebin's satisfaction, Aganon took a step back as if impressed.
"Gnome, I have met my better! Truly, you must be a powerful wizard if you can so easily command so potent a force," said Aganon, concluding his speech with a slight bow.
Nebin was pleased but suspicious. He could never be certain when humans were being sarcastic; sarcasm was rare in gnomish culture. Before Nebin could offer a rejoinder, someone tapped him on the shoulder.
A Duel Arcane official stood behind Nebin, an open scroll penned with many rules in hand. Nebin let the illusion of the fire fade and pushed his goggles up onto his head.
"Yes? I'm Nebin Raulnor. Am I up?"
The official frowned and said, "The rules of the duel forbid non-compe
titive casting in the coliseum. It could interfere with the legitimate judging of other competitors. Please explain why I shouldn't disqualify you right now?"
Nebin hesitated, scrabbling for an explanation.
Melf's Beard, he thought frantically, I'm going to disqualify myself before I even qualify.
Aganon stepped up. "My new acquaintance was showing me the crucial finale to a heroic story," he said. "I'm afraid the story wouldn't have been the same without the visual aid. Surely you won't ruin such a wonderful tale by ejecting its teller, especially when he's so talented a wizard."
The official, apparently interested despite himself, asked, "What story?"
Aganon looked to the gnome.
Nebin stuttered, "Well, you see, I...I was on the road to attend this very competition. Then...then..." Suddenly he smiled. "On the way to the magnificent city, I and my companions stayed at an inn, one with a reputation for being haunted by ghosts. I was out late at night searching for magical essences of moon dust—you can't collect them by day, you know—when I heard a call for help. I responded instantly, and found a fellow traveler being menaced by a horrible creature slithering about on its belly! If I hadn't shown up, I shudder to think what would have happened. I used the very spell I just displayed to send that terrible creature running. The poor woman was so grateful. She told me that if ever the Order of the Enabled Hand could do me a favor, I shouldn't hesitate to ask."
Nebin smiled as he finished the story.
The official studied the gnome, scratched his chin, and said, "I'm feeling generous. I won't disqualify you. But another infraction, and you're out."
He moved off, shaking his head, and Nebin let out a long breath.
"Who knew they were such sticklers? Aganon, I owe you a drink."
The human nodded, but he was looking quizzically at the gnome. He seemed about to say something, but instead darted a look between Nebin and Hennet, who was being led out to one of the circular areas by an official, and he smiled enigmatically.
"I'd like that, Nebin," he replied. "Where can I find you and your friend—what did you say his name is?"
"Hennet. He likes to believe his mastery of the craft is as potent as my own. Out of friendship, I indulge him. We're staying at a little inn off Cuttlestone Row—the Cuttlestone Inn. Look us up."
Aganon answered, "I will. I would love to hear more about this terrible beast and the poor Enabled Hand monk."
Another official motioned at Aganon. It was time for his proficiency test.
Nebin frowned. He wondered if he should have been so free with his identity and purposes with a stranger.
Well, I'm sure it's all right, rationalized the gnome. Aganon is certainly friendly, he thought.
With that, he pushed the doubt from his mind and turned it to preparing for his test.
The Motherhouse of the Enabled Hand was as grand as Ember remembered. An edifice of whitewashed stone, the structure was ringed around with elegant and overpowering relief sculpture. The frieze portrayed an ongoing fight of monk versus monk and stretched all the way around the building, creating an unbroken loop. The monks of the Hand were a legendary force, and few other groups in the duchy could claim such a prestigious and powerful membership, nor such a stately and arresting home.
Ember and Brek Gorunn walked down a long flagstone path through the colorful garden that surrounded the Motherhouse. The scent of rose mixed with sage and pine made her think of her youth. Together with the bountiful flowers and stately white building, the Motherhouse presented an air of serene strength. Ember felt sure that things would soon be made right. She especially looked forward to meeting her old mentor, Kairoth.
The wide door of the Motherhouse was open. Immediately inside was a large chamber, a salon draped with colorful linens and flagged with granite tile. Three novitiate monks sat, in apparent mediation, facing the doorway. As Ember and Brek Gorunn walked up, the foremost stood and bowed.
"Greetings. Welcome to the Order of the Enabled Hand." Recognizing Ember's dress, she ventured a ritual greeting of the order, "Weakness is pain."
Ember bowed. "But pain leaves the body."
The novitiate concluded, "And so weakness is purged. Welcome! From what chapter do you hail, sister?"
Ember said, "Until recently, Volanth Chapter. But that chapter is no more."
The novitiate paused, not understanding.
Ember said, "Sister, I must see one of the elders immediately. I bring dire news that may endanger the whole order."
The novitiate who had spoken looked back to the other young trainees who remained seated, a man and another woman. They had no answers for her except concerned expressions. The novitiate turned back to Ember and Brek Gorunn.
"Wait here. I will ask leave to disturb the elders in their inner dojo."
With that, she glided away.
Apparently things had changed a bit since Ember's days as a novice. When she trained, things were slightly less formal. She shrugged it off and looked at one of the remaining novitiates.
"Is this the first you have heard of troubles for the order in Volanth?"
One of the remaining two novitiates stood up. He wore the same simple white practice garment as the other trainees.
He swallowed and said, "No, nothing definite, but there were rumors."
The other trainee coughed and shook her head slightly.
The novitiate continued, "We were told that the rumors were groundless, and that we shouldn't repeat lies."
He looked into Ember's eyes, as if trying to read her intentions.
Ember nearly flushed. "Lies they are not. Volanth chapter is destroyed, and enemies of the Enabled Hand are abroad. You can repeat that all you like, because I speak only truth."
The novitiate backed up a step and muttered an apology under his breath. He looked down and refused to meet the gaze of limber or the dwarf.
After that, the minutes passed uncomfortably. The trainees said no more, and neither did Ember. She heard Brek Gorunn mutter a prayer under his breath, asking Moradin to bequeath the blessing of tolerance.
Finally the original novitiate returned. She said, "Sister, please proceed directly to the inner dojo, the Elders' Sanctum. Two await you, Elder Cestra and Elder Vobod."
The novitiate motioned back in the direction she had come.
Ember led her friend the dwarf down the hallway without a backward glance. She was still a bit angry, but knew it was not part of the Order's code to display negative emotions. She was slightly ashamed to have been so obvious in front of novitiates.
They passed several open courtyards where monks of various degrees trained. The sounds of their exercise soothed her. She and Brek moved down a long corridor lit with lamps on either side and numerous small, closed doors. Ember remembered spending many a long day in those rooms; meditation cubicles, where a student attempted to quiet the mind and enhance inner strength. As they approached the Elders' Sanctum, she wondered about her old mentor Kairoth and why he wasn't with the other elders. In fact, it was odd that the usual quorum of five elders were not assembled in the inner dojo.
They passed a richly carved oaken lintel and entered the inner dojo. Silk screens hid the walls, though warm lights and fragrant oils burned behind them, giving the space a special ambience. Three people stood within, their hands clasped in the posture of respectful waiting. Ember wondered what activity she had interrupted with her arrival. One of the three monks wore the sash of a teacher, not an elder. Though his face was as stony as the two elders, Ember thought she detected deference in his posture, as he stood a little apart and behind the elders.
Elder Vobod stepped forward. Ember remembered him from long ago, but only barely. His head was shaved, except for a braid of gray hair that hung down his back, though his eyebrows and thin mustache were dark. His green silk robe was elegant, embroidered with many flecks of gemstone. On his finger flashed a large ring inset with a strange symbol unfamiliar to Ember.
"Be welcome in the hands of t
he Enabled." He motioned to the instructor, who closed the door behind Ember and Brek Gorunn. Elder Vobod smiled thinly, saying, "We prefer to keep this interview private. We know of your plight—"
Despite the breach in protocol, Ember broke in, "You know that Volanth chapter was beset and destroyed by enemies of the Hand? Not according to the novitiates minding the door."
The other elder, a human female whom Ember recognized as Elder Cestra, raised a hand and said, "Your questions have answers. Sit, calm yourself. Your words betray your emotions. The Order has taught you better."
Cestra's hair was dark, long, and gathered into a braid much lunger than Vobod's. Her eyes were dark and penetrating. Her silk tube, while elegant, was less showy than Vobod's. Ember remembered her in a kindly way, though she'd had little contact with the rider during her training.
Censured, Ember sat and said no more. She motioned for Brek Gorunn to join her.
The dwarf continued to stand, saying, "Dwarves are not suited to such contortions. I will stand, if you don't mind."
Apparently, the elders did not mind; they ignored the dwarf.
Elder Vobod looked at Ember and said, "Sister Ember, we know about the tragedy in Volanth, and you have our condolences. We share your grief."
Ember looked back at him, puzzled.
Elder Cestra said, "Sister Ember, though your journey of warning is commendable, know that we in the Motherhouse are aware of our enemies. They revealed themselves prior to the attack in Volanth. We blame ourselves for underestimating the danger these villains posed. We assumed the threat was local to the Motherhouse. Had we known that our outlying chapter houses were threatened, we would have sent word to the elders of each. We have done so now."
Ember ventured, "Why do the novices at the door speak in ignorance, knowing only rumors and lies?"
Vobod spoke. "Though the threat seems extreme, we have determined that the novitiates and those below the rank of instructor should remain ignorant, lest they be moved to fear or unwise acts that would compromise our own investigation."