Mithris felt the hallway shift this time. His stomach lurched in protest but the motion was over almost before it had begun. The open door to the dungeon still stood at their backs, and the corridor ahead did not appear to have changed.
But the ley line was again distant, more distant than it had been outside the bedchamber. Mithris knew they had climbed nearly to the top of the black tower.
Rethbrin seemed to grow stronger. Releasing his hold on Mithris, he stood on his own and smiled. “That’s better.”
“What’s better?”
“The cells are enchanted. The longer you spend there, the weaker you become. The only way to break the spell is to leave the vicinity of the enchantment.” Rethbrin looked shrewdly at Mithris. “It takes a good hour to really sap your strength, but you should have felt it beginning to leech at you.”
Mithris shook his head.
“Hmm. You’re a powerful young man.” Rethbrin shrugged, then muttered an incantation. Fabric materialized out of thin air, draped itself over the bony wizard’s wiry body, and stitched itself into a loose robe of red and gold. A tiny portal opened at the same time, and Rethbrin reached through it. When he withdrew the hand, he held a thick wand of some pale wood Mithris did not recognize.
“You’ve recovered quickly,” Mithris noted. “I’d say you’re a powerful wizard as well.”
Could you two please stop congratulating each other and just get on with it?
“What is your hurry?” Mithris demanded, having had enough of Vapor’s prodding. “You’ve been rushing me ever since you gave up trying to stop me. What’s the problem?”
Ranyegar has been awake for the past ten minutes. He’s in the hallway, on his way to that room at the other end.
“He’s not in the hallway,” Mithris argued.
He’s not in the version of the hallway that connects the dungeon to the Arcanium, no. But he is in the version which connects his bedchamber to the Arcanium. That must be where Absence is. Can we go, please?
“We have to hurry,” Mithris told Rethbrin.
Chapter 56
The far end of the corridor was a massive, arched doorway. It was much larger than the hallway itself, but was somehow contained by the corridor. It hurt Mithris’ head to look at it. Rethbrin never paused, but strode straight through into his Arcanium. Mithris followed a step behind.
Ranyegar was already there. He was six paces into the room already, but he whirled around at the sound of their footsteps.
Rethbrin drew up short, staring at his own mirror image. Ranyegar bore no bruises, and still wore robes of silver and black. The charms dangled in his beard. Otherwise, the two wizards were identical.
But then Mithris saw a standing mirror, over in the corner by a low scrying basin. The mirror was angled toward the center of the room, and from where he was standing Mithris could see both wizards reflected.
They were not identical in the mirror.
So that’s why the mirrors in the other chambers were turned facing the walls, said Vapor.
Mithris realized the crystal was right. The spell—Rethbrin’s Mirror of Illusions—did not work on reflections. The mirror showed Ranyegar’s true visage. It was a familiar one.
“Eaganar!” Mithris cried.
The dark wizard sneered, waving one hand. The complex illusion surrounding him dissolved to reveal the familiar features of Eaganar. He appeared to swell, growing several inches as his body filled out with muscles the underfed Rethbrin did not possess. At the same time, his flowing white beard shrank up into his chin to become Eaganar’s neatly trimmed and lightly salted black goatee. The charms woven in the air fell to the floor, tinkling on impact.
Eaganar’s other hand whipped up, and a small object leaped from a shelf on the far wall. Absence flew through the air and planted itself in the dark wizard’s outstretched hand. It sat there like a nothing, like a place where reality didn’t exist. The voidstone was impossible to focus on, and Mithris felt his eyes sliding off it each time he tried.
“You’re too late, boy,” sneered Eaganar. “You refused the poisoned food. You avoided the trap I laid on the bed. But you haven’t beaten me, not by a long shot! I hold the most powerful of the foundation crystals in my hand. Soon enough, I’ll take the others from your corpse. The game is won, the victory mine!”
Holding Absence high over his head, Eaganar spat rapid words of magic and leveled a finger at Mithris. The young wizard hurled himself to one side as the spell lashed out toward him. Rolling painfully across the rough stone floor, he saw a chunk of wall behind where he had stood simply vanish, ceasing to exist.
Eaganar flung another spell, this time targeting Rethbrin. Though lacking the agility Mithris had shown, the ancient wizard was far from helpless. Intoning three quick words, he held up both hands and rotated them about one another.
The air in front of Rethbrin distorted, forming a translucent shield of solid air. Mithris could not see the spell Eaganar had thrown—that must be some quality of the voidstone—but he saw Rethbrin’s shield shudder under impact, and then a chunk of the ceiling midway between Rethbrin and Eaganar vanished.
“It’s only a matter of time,” taunted Eaganar, hurriedly casting a third spell. This time Mithris could see the threads of the magic. Surging back to his feet, he darted forward to grab at the spell. He was too slow, and the power resolved itself.
Bands of air wrapped themselves around Rethbrin and bore him back, slamming him hard into the stone wall. The old wizard wheezed as the breath was knocked out of him on impact. Mithris saw the air tightening around him, squeezing and choking him.
Mithris ran to him, fending off a trio of fireballs Eaganar sent his way. Reaching the wall, he grabbed at the invisible bonds which held his master’s master. Once he had hold of them, he tore at the magic and ripped the spell apart with his bare hands.
Rethbrin sank to the floor, gasping for breath. With no time to see to the old man, Mithris whirled in place. He had just enough time to throw up his most powerful ward before the bolt of lightning struck. It sizzled against his ward, threatening to collapse the barely resolved shield.
Meanwhile, Rethbrin had regained his breath and barked an incantation. As he finished the spell, he made a throwing gesture with first one hand, then the other.
Steel blades with razor edges materialized out of thin air, hurling across the room like thrown knives. Cursing, Eaganar ducked one of the blades and batted the other side with his arm. Though he knocked the blade aside, it tore a long rip in the sleeve of his robes and nicked the flesh below.
Mithris had already cast his next spell, taking a cue from Rethbrin and going on the offensive. Drawing on Depths, he pulled the tiny particles of moisture out of the air surrounding Eaganar. The room became very cold as water droplets too small to be seen coalesced into a large, floating glob of water. Mithris wove fire into his spell through Ember, super-heating the water until it threatened to boil away in a cloud of steam. He hurled the boiling water at the dark wizard.
It splashed over Eaganar’s face, scalding him instantly. The dark wizard howled in pain, squeezing shut his eyes and falling to his knees. He dropped Absence, and the voidstone fell to the floor. It’s spherical blackness disappeared against the flat black stone of the floor.
“You can’t win, Eaganar,” Mithris declared. “You couldn’t beat me on my own, and a powerful wizard fights at my side. Give up now.”
“Never!” Eaganar shrieked, clutching gingerly at the reddened flesh of his face. Tears streamed from his tightly-shut eyes, streaming over the burnt cheeks and trickling into the singed goatee.
Mithris summoned bands of air like the ones Eaganar had used on Rethbrin, draped them over the dark wizard and confined him. At the same time, Rethbrin resolved more of the magical steel blades and held them poised all around their foe, ready to strike.
“You’re beaten,” Mithris pleaded with the dark wizard. “Be reasonable, Eaganar.”
The evil wizard opened his eyes wide.
They shone wetly from his crimson face, burning with hate. “I’ll never surrender to you, whelp!” he cried. “Not in a thousand years, not if the mountains crumble and the seas boil to gas, and the stars themselves consume all the foundations in fire and madness!”
“It’s useless,” Rethbrin said to Mithris. “We must finish him.”
Mithris studied the kneeling, defeated wizard. How many times had this dark sorcerer tried to kill him? How many creatures had he sent against Mithris, how many human agents had done his bidding? He had struck down Deinre and robbed Mithris of his Master. He had ruined the young wizard’s life and repeatedly tried to take it.
Still, Mithris hesitated. He had killed before. He never enjoyed it, but he’d never had a choice either. Ileera would have killed him; the same went for Zerto. He felt no remorse over the omnitors and devinists, and certainly not for the Chaos Lord Tzrak. But again, he’d had no choice.
Eaganar was beaten. The dark wizard could do nothing to him now. Mithris was far too powerful, especially with the foundation crystals. Soon he would hold all five, and this whole business would be over.
He could stop having dangerous adventures. He even thought Rethbrin might accept him as a student. Mithris was a wizard in his own right now, but there must be so much he could learn from Deinre’s own Master. He could return to some semblance of a normal life, as normal as it ever got for wizards.
He felt no desire to kill the enemy he had beaten.
He won’t give up, you know, said Vapor. The foundation crystal sounded distant, unconcerned. It was as though the warning was given off-hand, and of no real consequence. Not to Vapor at least.
Mithris narrowed his eyes. The crystals would all be together soon, he thought. That was what they had always wanted. But what happened next? What scheme had the foundation crystals cooked up between them? And why had they waited until now to reunite after being apart for so long?
At that moment, Absence rose up from the floor. Against the flat black volcanic stone, the voidstone had been invisible. When it rose into the air, Mithris saw it had moved across the room. It was inches from him now.
He felt a tugging at his robes. The other foundation crystals lifted into the air of their own accord.
Beside him, Rethbrin gasped and stepped back.
The threads securing the crystals to his robes snapped, releasing the stones. The five crystals came together in midair, all save Absence flashing with inner light. They moved, orbiting one another and fitting together like pieces of a whole.
“What are you doing?” cried Mithris, falling back before the steadily increasing light of the foundation crystals.
That light swelled to a blinding supernova, and then everything rippled and vanished. Mithris, Rethbrin, and Eaganar fell through an endless void which soundlessly swallowed their frightened screams.
Chapter 57
Mithris tumbled through endless nothingness and screamed.
The lightless abyss swallowed his panicked shouts. There was no sound. Screaming silently felt ridiculous, so he stopped.
Mithris could not tell how far he fell, or for how long. The void offered him no frame of reference. Only the free-fall lurching of his stomach afforded any indication that the young wizard was even still alive.
Where is this place, he wondered. What had Eaganar done?
No answer came. Silence was unbroken—unbreakable—here in this place. Even Vapor’s telepathic voice deserted him now. Mithris was alone.
He tried to stretch out his magical senses to get a feel for the void. He felt nothing. It was not like the time Lord Tzrak had cut him off from magic. Then, he had still been able to feel the energy floating just out of reach. In this place, there was nothing.
Mithris felt a chill. Without magic, he was helpless. Without even the foundation crystal to speak to him, he was alone and powerless. He was no longer sure that he was alive. What was this place?
He had been so certain of Eaganar’s defeat. With ancient Grandmaster Rethbrin at his side, Mithris had the evil wizard at his mercy. Yet it seemed Eaganar had held out some last resort, some spell which Mithris had never seen him cast. That was the only explanation, unless…
Mithris thought back to those final moments in Rethbrin’s Arcanium. He recalled a brief flash of motion. He had seen it from the corner of his eye. He thought he had seen it, anyway. He could not be sure.
It could have been Absence. The final foundation crystal was difficult to keep your eyes on. Much like this limitless abyss, the voidstone was more of an…well, an absence rather than a presence.
Still, Mithris was sure…almost sure…that he had seen the dark crystal rising into the air…
Bright sunlight stabbed at his eyes, dazzling Mithris. There was no transition, no slow fading from one to the other. One instant he fell through eternal emptiness; the next, he was lying on the hot sand of a tropical shoreline.
The sun burned hot overhead in a sullen sky. The sand burned beneath him, the heat passing through his robes to sear at his skin. The air was heavy and sultry with no breeze and a pervading stench of brimstone.
Pushing himself up, Mithris cast his eyes about his surroundings. A dozen paces from him, a stick-thin figure in silken robes of blue and bright silver lay at the foot of a tall, unfamiliar tree. Rethbrin!
Mithris jumped to his feet and ran to the unconscious wizard. Rethbrin was more than two thousand years old. He had trained Deinre, Mithris’ own former master.
Eaganar had murdered Deinre, and later imprisoned Rethbrin in his own tower. Impersonating the ancient magician, Eaganar was able to fool the black tower into obeying him for a time.
That tower was a long way off now, Mithris was sure of that. He had no idea where they were, but he knew they must have traveled far.
Reaching the unmoving master wizard, Mithris fell to his knees in the hot sand beside the recumbent form. He rolled the old man over onto his back. Rethbrin’s chest rose and fell unsteadily, but he still breathed. Mithris sank back on his haunches, sagging with intense relief.
Shifting to a more comfortable position, Mithris again scanned their surroundings. They were on a narrow strip of beach. Surf pounded the shore, frothing white. Tall and slender palms rose alongside strange trees like the one he sat beneath. The young wizard had never seen trees quite like these.
The sky overhead was a sullen reddish-black, choked by volcanic smoke and ash. The stench on the air was similar to the smells of Mount Wileth, the volcano where Mithris had dueled with Eaganar for the first time. Mithris knew a volcano was near.
Almost, this could be the same island where Rethbrin’s black tower stood. Almost.
But this place was…primeval. Was that the word? Mithris wasn’t sure. He was sure that this was not the same island. Similar, perhaps, and just as hot and humid. Yet at the same time, this place was nothing like the place he had been before.
Rethbrin coughed. Sitting up, he hacked until red in the face and then spit angrily into the dark sand.
“Well,” he grumbled, fixing Mithris with an expectant stare. “Where are we?”
“I don’t know,” admitted Mithris, looking around once more. He was not avoiding Rethbrin’s eyes. “It doesn’t much look like your island…”
“No, it does not,” Rethbrin said. The old man looked about, his wrinkled face creased in thought. Then his eyes bulged and he gasped.
“What is it?” cried Mithris.
“Pay attention, lad!” Rethbrin turned a stern glare on Mithris. “Haven’t you sensed it yet?”
Mithris stretched out his senses in puzzlement. Then he recoiled in shock. After the dark abyss, he had not thought to check. Finding himself here, once more in the real world—or a real world, at any rate—he had just assumed. Anyway, he’d been concerned with Rethbrin…
Mithris knew he was making excuses to himself. If Vapor were there, the foundation crystal would not hesitate to point it out to him. The young wizard had to face the fact.
There was
no magic here. Just as it had been in the abyss, the ever-present energy was absent.
Chapter 58
“How is that possible?” Mithris asked, not wanting to believe it.
Ancient Rethbrin did not answer. He rose to his feet and dusted off his robes as though unconcerned. Mithris didn’t buy it. He himself felt helpless, on the edge of panic. Deinre’s master had relied on sorcery for far longer than Mithris. After two thousand years, how must it feel to have your magic taken away?
It must be like having your eyes ripped out, Mithris thought. No. Worse than that. He was trembling. Mithris forced the unpleasant thoughts out of his mind. He was not the same lad who had fled Deinre’s tower more than two years ago. He would not huddle on the ground, shaking with fear and waiting for someone to rescue him. He was a wizard now.
But what was a wizard with no magic?
“First, we figure out where we are,” said Rethbrin, interrupting Mithris’ rising panic. “That means finding Eaganar.”
“You think he’s here too?”
“I saw him in the Abyss,” the grandmaster said. “He passed through it, whatever it is, the same as us. It stands to reason he’ll be somewhere nearby.”
Mithris puzzled over that for a second. “It wasn’t him,” he said. Rethbrin looked at him sharply. “I mean, it wasn’t Eaganar who…sent us here. Why would he have followed us if he sent us?”
“Probably to get his hands on those foundation crystals,” answered Rethbrin without hesitation.
“I don’t have them anymore,” said Mithris, hooking a finger through the empty loop of fabric which had until recently held Vapor attached to his robe. Similar loops hung empty in several places on the garment. The crystals were not merely silent; they were gone. “Could Eaganar have taken them already?”
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