Where the fire struck, trees and shrubs boiled away in a heartbeat. The heat of the magical fire was much greater than any natural fire. It left nothing in its wake but fine ash which drifted in the air and settled slowly to the baked earth below.
Mithris started out along the path he had made, magical flames still shooting from his outstretched hand.
You’re going to draw attention to yourself, cautioned Vapor. Also, Ember wonders if perhaps you rely too much on us.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Mithris, though he did dismiss the spell. Instantly, the flames winked out of existence. The charred path ended abruptly twenty paces ahead, the nearest fronds and leaves singed but intact.
Can you not cast fire spells without Ember’s help?
“Of course I can, but they’re far more powerful when I use the firestone. And besides, why should I limit myself when I don’t have to?”
You’re the wizard, I suppose, came the vague reply. Mithris frowned, thinking.
He supposed Vapor was right, at least the part about attracting attention. The spell he’d been using was particularly powerful. It drew a lot of energy. Whoever dwelt in that black tower might have been able to sense it.
“Well, if they’ve seen me then they’ve seen me,” he decided.
They may not have seen you yet. Vapor’s tone was suspiciously reasonable, the way it often was when the crystal particularly wanted to convince him of something. Even if they have, they may still be formulating an opinion…
Mithris frowned again, not sure what the crystal meant. “What opinion?”
Whether or not you come peacefully. I have to say, incinerating everything in sight is hardly-
“I wasn’t incinerating everything in sight,” Mithris cut the crystal off brusquely. “I was only clearing a path.” Throwing up his hands in a gesture of surrender, he hurriedly added: “You may be right. I’ll fly instead.”
He released Ember and moved his hand to Vapor. Mithris hesitated a moment, fingers hovering over the crystal. Then he shook his head; he didn’t believe he was relying too much on the foundation crystals. They were far more than tools, of course, but they were that too. Why shouldn’t he use them?
Speaking the incantation, Mithris felt himself lifting off the ground. Soon he soared over the tree-tops. Turning toward the black tower near the center of the island, he willed himself in that direction.
As he flew, Mithris examined the island below. The jungle was virtually unbroken, save for the occasional rocky cliff or waterfall. The whole island gave the impression of having never been stepped upon by man, except for the black tower. Likely the wizard who lived there had been the first to discover this deserted place.
Mithris did not have to wonder why the mage had chosen to dwell here, however. He could sense the ley lines converging beneath the island. There were not so many as he had found in Zerto’s enchanted grotto, not even as many as lay beneath Deinre’s tower. There were enough.
He had nearly reached the tower now. It rose from the jungle before him, a windowless cylinder of black volcanic rock. Mithris slowed his flight and examined the tower. It was extremely tall, he saw, the tallest wizard’s tower he’d ever seen. Its entire height was devoid of windows or other openings. It must be a sweltering furnace inside!
At the pinnacle, six evenly spaced columns supported a thick roof above an otherwise open platform. Mithris saw a small chest of drawers, a low table, a scrying basin, and various other magical implements stored there. To his magical eyes, thin wards flickered all around this platform. Mithris supposed they were there to prevent the wind from blowing the wizard’s scrolls and notes away rather than protection from any real threats.
Who would ever come here in the first place? This wizard, whoever it was, probably hadn’t seen another person for decades if not centuries.
Eyeing the open platform, Mithris deliberated. He could see the trapdoor which led down into the tower. But it seemed rude to enter that way. Looking down, he saw a small area of clear land around the base of the tower. Hoping the place had a front door, where he could knock, Mithris allowed himself to float down.
Descending, he spotted the door. Barred only by the same shimmering wards that protected the open platform up top, the door was an otherwise empty arch carved in the rock. And, as Mithris alighted gently on the ground, a robed figure appeared in that arched doorway and stepped out into the hot sun.
Chapter 51
The wizard who emerged from the black tower was tall and slender. He wore flowing robes of silver and black. A narrow beard of coarse, curling gray hair spilled down his chest and hung below his waist. Metal glittered from within the beard; charms of silver and brass and gold were woven into the hairs. His face was wrinkled with great age, but his almost colorless eyes twinkled sharply.
“Hello,” said the wizard, looking Mithris up and down speculatively.
“Greetings, Master Wizard,” Mithris answered cautiously. The ancient mage did not seem hostile, but Mithris had learned from experience to take nothing for granted when it came to wizards. Ileera had not seemed dangerous either—she had been delightful, in fact, right up until she sold him to Yuric.
“You’ve come a long way,” the wizard said.
“I have,” agreed Mithris. “My name is Mithris.”
“Welcome, Mithris. I am Ranyegar.” The wizard took another step out into the sunlight. “What brings you to this distant isle, Mithris?”
Mithris hesitated. If this wizard thought Absence belonged to him, he would hardly be likely to hand the crystal over. Moreover, if he thought Mithris came to take from him he might attack. Ranyegar was clearly very, very old; the oldest wizards tended to be the most powerful.
Besides, Mithris didn’t want a fight. He wanted only to collect the final crystal and be on his way.
“I’ve come seeking a friend,” he said. That was true enough, he supposed. Vapor, at least, he thought of as a friend. He was not entirely sure the other foundation crystals counted as the same, but why not? Just because he couldn’t hear them? Each had helped him just as Vapor had done. He expected the voidstone would help him too.
Assuming he found it.
“A friend?” echoed Ranyegar. The ancient wizard laughed. The sound was dry and reedy like a rustling of parchment, emphasizing how incredibly old the man was. He seemed genuinely amused. “Any friend in particular, or have you come seeking new acquaintance?”
Again, Mithris hesitated. He didn’t see any other way around it. “I’ve come looking for Absence,” he told Ranyegar.
The ancient wizard nodded as though he had been expecting this. “I see,” he wheezed. “I think you’d better come inside.”
Not waiting for any reply, Ranyegar turned round and headed back through the arched doorway. He moved with a spry grace which belied his advanced years. As the black tower swallowed him up, Mithris had little choice but to follow.
***
The narrow corridor of black stone never branched and curved or deviated in any way. It ran straight and true. After several minutes of following Ranyegar, Mithris was certain they had walked further than should have been possible in the narrow tower.
All things were possible with sorcery, he reminded himself.
In time, the corridor emptied out into a massive banquet hall. Frayed and faded tapestries adorned the porous black walls. A long, sturdy table dominated the center of the chamber. The table was laden with dishes. Whole roast duckling, turkey legs, a fatted pig with an apple in its open mouth. Bowls of soup, salad, pudding. Platters of meat. Pitchers of wine and ale and water and tea. Steam and delicious aromas rose from the feast.
Reaching the table, Ranyegar turned and smiled knowingly at Mithris. “You must be hungry after such a long journey,” he said, pulling out a chair and gesturing the much younger wizard to take a seat.
Mithris came forward cautiously, examining the cavernous room and the resplendent feast. “All this for the two of us?” he asked.
<
br /> Ranyegar chuckled. “The food never spoils, my boy, and the platters never empty. I dine when I am hungry, and leave the rest for the next time. It saves me time, you see. I never have to worry about my next meal, because it is always waiting for me here.”
Mithris nodded, but still he did not sit down.
Ranyegar, still chuckling, moved around the table. He moved quickly for one so old. Soon enough he had gone completely around the table. He pulled out a chair on the other side, opposite the one he’d pulled out for Mithris. Sitting down, he grabbed up a shank of lamb and sank his teeth into the steaming, succulent meat.
With a shrug, Mithris joined him at the table. He did not reach for any of the dishes.
“Eat, boy, eat!” Ranyegar spoke around a mouthful of meat. Hot juice spilled over his lips and ran down his chin in a greasy brown trail. “Surely the Absence you seek is not the emptiness of your belly, eh?” With that, he laughed uproariously and slapped one long-fingered hand on the table several times to punctuate his mirth.
“I ate before I left home,” said Mithris, patting his belly with an apologetic smile.
You’ve not eaten since last night, said Vapor silently. You think this wizard would try to poison you? It seems like an awful lot of effort. Surely there are easier ways he could dispose of you, if he wished it.
Mithris was not so sure of that. He had seen Ranyegar’s twinkling eyes linger on the faintly glowing stones affixed to his robes. Mithris carried five foundation crystals. It hardly mattered how powerful the ancient wizard might be; with five crystals, Mithris could probably defeat him without breaking a sweat.
No, direct confrontation was not the way to deal with Mithris.
You may be right, Vapor conceded. Then again, you may just be paranoid.
“A shame,” said Ranyegar meanwhile. The white-haired wizard shrugged, though, as if it were no concern. “As for myself, I’m famished. I do hope you’ll excuse me if I dine. We can speak of your…friend. Absence, did you say? A peculiar name.”
“All my friends have strange names,” countered Mithris, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the edge of the long table. “You say you don’t know Absence, then?”
“Oh, heh heh,” answered Ranyegar, spearing a cut of beef with a long fork and lifting it over to his plate. He began to cut the meat with obvious zeal, still chattering away. “I must say I know of no one by that name, my boy. But perhaps I know your friend by another name? You should describe this friend to me. I might recognize him.”
Vapor responded immediately. Absence is perfectly round and smooth and has no color or light. It is blackness, like a hole in reality that you can hold in your hand.
“I know my friend is on this island,” Mithris said, ignoring Vapor for the moment. “Are you sure you don’t know Absence?”
Ranyegar shrugged, slurping wine from a goblet. Setting the drink down on the table, he spread his hands in innocence.
“I fear not, young friend. But perhaps you and I together can get to the bottom of this mystery. Yes, yes. Together. But in the morning. Dining always makes me sleepy, and the hour grows late. Enjoy my hospitality this night, and we will find your friend on the morrow. Yes?”
“I’m really quite anxious,” Mithris began, but Ranyegar waved off this protest.
“Nonsense,” he cried in his reedy voice. “The dawn is soon enough, surely. Come, I will show you to the guest quarters. I trust you’ll find the accommodations quite comfortable, yes, quite luxurious. Come along.”
Ranyegar rose, turned, and walked out through the same door they had entered by. Once again, Mithris had little choice but to follow.
Chapter 52
After several minutes walking along the same narrow corridor, Mithris was surprised when they came not to the outside as he expected, but to a cozy bedchamber.
Blinking, he looked around the room. It was simple quarters. A small but comfortable looking bed sat in the corner. There was a velvet curtain hanging from the ceiling which could be pulled around the bed for additional privacy. A chest of drawers stood opposite the foot of the bed. A dressing table sat nearby, and a washstand with pitcher and bowl.
Thick rugs covered the stone floor. There were more of those ancient, frayed tapestries covering the walls. A standing mirror was tucked into the corner closest the door, its silvery reflective surface curiously turned toward the wall.
There were no windows, no other doors.
Mithris turned back to the door through which he had come. Ranyegar was already disappearing into the corridor.
“I’ll come for you at dawn!” the ancient wizard called, and then he seemed to vanish as if the dimness of the hallway had swallowed him up.
Mithris went to the bed and stood beside it. Shaking his head, he turned and sat down on the floor. He was careful not to lean back against the bed-frame.
You take suspicion to new heights, observed Vapor.
“I don’t trust this wizard,” Mithris replied in a whisper, not sure how far Ranyegar had gone. “Not at all, Vapor.”
He seems perfectly hospitable, if a trifle…off.
“Off?” Mithris smiled grimly. “That’s a way to put it, I suppose. What did you make of that hallway? On the way in, we passed no doors, no branching corridors. Yet we came back the same way we went before, and did not leave the tower. I’m sure this room wasn’t here before.”
That is a strange thing, Vapor agreed. But we have seen far stranger. Some kind of enchantment. Perhaps there is only the one hallway, with two ends. You start at one end, and the hallway takes you where you want to go.
“So the far end of the corridor moves itself to whatever room happens to be your destination?”
That could be the way of it, yes.
“Then I could get outside, if I left this room and wanted to get out of the tower?”
Vapor hesitated. Towers are attuned to their masters, the crystal said after a long consideration. The corridor might only work for Ranyegar.
“That’s kind of what I thought,” said Mithris. He sighed. “Can you get any sense of Absence? Do you know where the crystal is? Is it even in the tower?”
We’re…not sure, answered Vapor after another lengthy pause. I wouldn’t read too much into that, though, Mithris. Absence is the strangest of my brothers. I could be resting on a table right next to it, in direct contact, and still not get a proper sense of it. The void is like that.
“We’ll just have to go searching for it, then.”
That hallway could take you anywhere. Or nowhere. You might walk up and down it a thousand times and find only this room.
“Then I won’t get lost, will I?”
It is getting late, said Vapor. Why not sleep on it? Ranyegar will come in the morning. You’ll get your answers then.
Mithris turned his head around to peer at the bed suspiciously. “I’m not tired,” he said, stifling a yawn.
You seem sleepy to me.
“Whose side are you on, anyway?”
Why are you so convinced there are sides? Ranyegar hasn’t shown any hostility.
“I don’t trust him.”
You don’t trust anyone.
Mithris shook his head. Then a thought occurred to him. Rising to his feet, he muttered a familiar incantation. The traveling spell was complex, and not so long ago it had taken all his concentration to master it. Now, he spoke it with ease.
The soap-bubble formed, quickly resolving. Through the portal he had summoned, Mithris could see the jungle that surrounded the black tower. Nodding to himself, he dismissed the portal.
See? We are hardly trapped here. Do you feel better now?
“A bit, I suppose,” Mithris admitted. He yawned again, covering his mouth with one hand. He supposed he was rather tired. “All right,” he relented. “I’ll rest.”
But before he could rest, Mithris decided to set up his wards. He began a series of incantations, each more complex than the last. He set up multiple layers of warding, laying one atop the o
ther. He used every one he could think of and when he had set nearly a dozen of the magical shields he racked his brain to think of more.
For someone who rarely uses them, and used to think wards were useless, you certainly are laying it on rather thick.
“I’m just being careful,” argued Mithris. He remembered another ward, and quickly cast it. Then he closed his eyes and mentally reached out to check on his wards. They were all sturdy, solid. He nodded to himself, satisfied.
Then he moved to a corner of the room opposite the bed and lowered himself to the floor.
There’s a bed right there, protested Vapor, but Mithris ignored the crystal. Lying down on the thick rug, he curled up on himself and went to sleep.
***
Mithris woke some time later. The room was in darkness. He had no idea how much time had passed. He summoned a flame as though lighting a candle, but held the fire. A flickering flame ignited in mid-air, burning without a wick.
Stretching uncomfortably, Mithris sat up. It had been some time since he’d slept without a mattress. Shaking his head, he remembered all the times he’d slept on floors or on the cold, damp ground. It was just as unpleasant as he remembered.
You’re not going to start complaining about it, are you?
“Hush,” Mithris told Vapor. He closed his eyes and re-checked his wards. Nothing had disturbed them while he slept. Opening his eyes again, he asked, “How long was I asleep?”
Less than four hours.
“Long enough,” the wizard muttered to himself. He got up, stretching painfully to work the kinks out. He glanced at the bed ruefully, but there was no way he would climb between those sheets. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about Ranyegar had him on edge. He wouldn’t take anything the ancient mage offered for granted.
Besides, he wanted to search the tower. Ranyegar was surely sound asleep by now, and daybreak was yet several hours off. Plenty of time to look. If he could find the voidstone before Ranyegar awoke, he could leave this black tower and be on his way.
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