The Lost City (The Lost Prophecy Book 5)

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The Lost City (The Lost Prophecy Book 5) Page 12

by D. K. Holmberg


  “What are you thinking about?” Jakob asked.

  Anda pulled her attention away from the walls and glanced to Jakob. “This does not appear to be a Magi construction.”

  Novan looked over. “Not Magi? The city of Vasha existed before the Magi making it home, but the city was nothing more than debris. The damahne once called it home—at least some of them did—and you can still see evidence of them on this level of the city. But the palace is Magi only. It didn’t exist before the Magi settling here.”

  Anda stepped to the wall and ran her hand along the stone. As she did, ahmaean surged from it, seeming to react to her touch, the stone reverberating, revealing a connection.

  “I’m not certain what the Magi are capable of, but this seems beyond what I’ve seen from them,” she said.

  Novan frowned, the look on his face one that Jakob recognized. He had seen it before from the historian when he was trying to work through a puzzle. He knew there was something about what Anda said that triggered questions within him.

  Jakob tapped Novan on the shoulder. “You can question the Magi later.”

  Novan’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know that there are any Magi who would have the answers to those questions,” Novan said.

  “Then you can search for answers elsewhere later. I think you have a few new places to research.”

  Novan smiled. “There are a few.”

  “Where now?” Jakob asked.

  Novan looked around, his gaze settling on a massive stairway at the end of the hall. Lanterns were set along the wall, but none were lit. A few tapestries hung here, each depicting scenes that Jakob suspected reflected images the Magi Founders believed to be from the gods. At one end of the hall, he noted sculptures made with a silvery sort of metal, the same sort of metal that was in Novan’s staff. He detected a twinge of ahmaean from the sculptures but suspected that was only his imagination. There should be no reason for him to pick up ahmaean from something like that.

  Then again, his sword shouldn’t have ahmaean, yet it did. The sword stored the ahmaean of the daneamiin who had sacrificed in its making. Maybe the sculpture somehow stored ahmaean.

  Novan tapped his staff, and the end began glowing softly. The historian poured his ahmaean into the staff, and runes began glowing along the length of it. As it took on the increasing glow, Novan tapped it again, and ahmaean swirled away from it, spreading from the staff, sweeping down the hall, and throughout the palace. Interestingly, the walls seemed to contain the ahmaean.

  Novan’s eyes snapped open, and he pointed with the end of his staff. “He is up a few levels.”

  They took the stairs, moving quickly, and Jakob was surprised that they did not encounter any other Magi as they did. It was almost as if the palace itself was empty, as if the Magi had abandoned Vasha.

  Jakob didn’t know how many Magi even remained within the city. As far as he knew, there were many Magi, but they rarely left the city. Roelle—and her band of Magi warriors—had been the first to do so in many years.

  “Where are they?” he asked.

  “The palace is not usually a busy place,” Novan said.

  “Not busy? We see no one.” Jakob pressed out, surging out with his ahmaean, reaching for that connection so that he could detect the presence of others within the palace, but as far as he could tell, there were none near him.

  “The Magi prefer to remain private,” Novan said. “And they lost quite a few in the attack on the city. The Deshmahne claimed several dozen Magi lives.”

  How many would that have left? He didn’t have a sense of how many Magi there were, but he presumed losing several dozen would leave only a few remaining.

  Novan continued to guide them up the stairs, and every so often, he tapped his staff, and the end would glow. Each time it did, he pressed out with the ahmaean he sent through the staff, letting it sweep away from them. And each time, he pointed in the direction for them to continue.

  Jakob was reminded of his search through the Tower for Alyta and suspected this was both similar and different.

  They stepped off the stairs onto a landing. As they did, they came across a tall woman with deep brown hair, wearing thick, white robe. She looked up, seemingly surprised to see them.

  The woman blinked twice. “Historian? How is it that you returned? Alriyn claimed that you went in search of other answers.”

  Novan tipped his head, leaving his staff resting on the stone. The glowing that had worked along its length faded, as Novan pulled his ahmaean back into it. “Elder Karrin. I thought that I would return to speak with the Eldest.”

  Karrin coughed, managing to laugh at the same time. So far, she had not appeared to look back at Jakob or Anda. What would she see when she looked at Jakob? Would she see him as a young man, and nothing else, or would she see him as damahne? He had always been tall but did not have nearly the same height as the damahne he’d seen in his visions. He didn’t have the same manner of speaking, or the same slightly exotic features.

  Anda’s glamour concealed her, but Jakob could see through it, though suspected that was only because of his connection to her. Would the Magi have enough of a connection to look past the concealment? Roelle had not when they had traveled with her.

  “Alriyn has been busy meeting with the university chancellor.”

  “Has he?” Novan’s mouth worked into a smile. “It seems that much has changed in the time since I left.”

  “Did you think it wouldn’t? When you left, the Deshmahne had barely been defeated. Alriyn commands the Magi to serve outside of the city, and nearly a dozen of our brightest minds have left, serving as advisors.” She shook her head. “We had thought to send delegates, and it turns out we are the delegates.”

  “Is that so unfortunate? There was a time when the Magi did not remain confined in the palace.”

  “It’s not unfortunate, but it does present challenges. Do you realize that our network of communication has disappeared?”

  Novan tapped his staff softly, and a hint of light surged from it. “I think that you have more connections remaining then you prefer to admit,” he said.

  Karrin smiled. “Perhaps we do. It’s one thing to share connections with informants, and it’s quite another to find a way to transmit information in both directions. There was a time when we had ravens trained to carry our messages, but it’s been a long time since the aviary has been open.”

  “Hawks.” When Karrin arched a brow at him, Novan clucked. “The aviary contained hawks, not ravens.”

  “I believe one of the Magi would know best what we kept as messengers, don’t you?”

  Novan bowed his head and shrugged slightly. “I would think so, but they were hawks, not ravens. Your ravens wouldn’t survive the climate here nearly as well as the hawks did. They were able to travel greater distances.”

  Karrin seemed to consider his words before shrugging and shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter. Either way, the aviary has long been closed. Right now, we have Denraen serving as our messengers, but Endric has made it clear that will not be allowed to be a long-term solution.”

  “Where do the Magi travel?” Novan asked.

  Karrin frowned. “Didn’t I tell you that we had a dozen Magi who left?”

  “You did. A dozen Magi could serve only the great cities, or they could serve the north. Which is it?”

  “The south remains occupied by the Deshmahne, Novan. We need greater strength and numbers before we attempt to exert any influence there once again.”

  Novan only nodded slowly. “I think it was wise of Alriyn to send the Magi out of Vasha.”

  The way he said it made Jakob question whether it had been Novan’s idea, or whether it had truly been Mage Alriyn’s plan. He had observed Novan making suggestions in the past, only they were never intended to be suggestions, and served more like commands.

  “Wise? Had Alriyn not shown us how to expand his control over manehlin—” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t un
derstand. But know that Alriyn has demonstrated techniques that no other Mage has ever succeeded in performing.”

  Novan offered a hint of a smile. “Alriyn shared a little of what he accomplished before I departed.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Novan shrugged. “It means as I said.”

  Karrin finally looked beyond Novan and seemed to see Jakob for the first time. She glanced to Anda before turning her attention back to Jakob, and her gaze drifted down to the sword strapped to his waist.

  If nothing else, carrying his sword might keep the Magi from realizing that he was anything more than he appeared. What god would carry a sword, especially as they expected and demanded peace?

  “And who are these two?” Karrin asked.

  “These are my new companions. Or should I say, my old apprentice and his companion,” Novan said.

  Karrin considered Jakob with a different focus and a renewed interest. “Your apprentice? Is this the one who traveled with you from Chrysia? This is the boy Haerlin spoke of?”

  Novan’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he nodded.

  “Perhaps a boy no longer,” Karrin said. “You bring him to Alriyn to discuss what Haerlin saw?”

  Novan nodded slightly. “Something like that.”

  “You will find him distractible as he studies with Chancellor Alison. Some think it a good thing to see Alriyn so distracted. The man has certainly spent his entire life staring at books. It’s about time he found another with a similar interest.” The tone of her voice made Jakob think she felt otherwise.

  “I’ve spent my entire life staring at books,” Novan said.

  Karrin laughed. There was a hard edge to it, as if she were unaccustomed to laughing. The corners of her eyes wrinkled with it. “You might have spent time looking at books, historian, but I think all know that your true talent lies outside of the page.”

  Novan said nothing and merely smiled.

  Karrin stepped to the side, studying Jakob as she did, and nodded toward the end of the hall. “Alriyn is in his room. I would suggest knocking, or the gods know what you might encounter.”

  She started off, reaching the stairs without another word, and disappeared. Novan stared after her, an unreadable expression on his face.

  “That was… interesting,” Novan said.

  “Why interesting?” Jakob asked.

  “There is much to what she said that I will need to contemplate, not the least being why Alriyn has taken to studying with the university chancellor.”

  “From her description, it sounds as if he’s more than studying with her,” Jakob said.

  Novan tipped his head in a nod. “As I said, much to contemplate. Alriyn has lived a solitary life, so for him to pursue anything more is both unexpected and out of character. But even that is not all that I will need to consider.”

  Jakob waited for Novan to explain. The historian didn’t. “Is that it? With what we face—what I must face—I need to know as much as you do.”

  Novan sighed. “You do. I agree that you need that much. It’s just that there are things I need to piece together before the information I have becomes useful to you. Until that time, I don’t know how much use it will be to you for me to share anything more than what you’ve heard.”

  Novan gave him a placating smile. It was one that Jakob had seen from him before. It was the type of smile that Novan often gave to the leaders of Chrysia when they asked him for clarification. It was a particularly frustrating expression to be on the receiving end of. “I understand as well as any how important it is for you to be well-informed,” Novan said.

  “I wonder whether you do,” Jakob said. He had given Novan access to the library within the Great Forest and had introduced him to the daneamiin, opportunities that as a historian—and perhaps someone with nothing more than Mage abilities—he would not have had. He needed Novan’s help, and he needed the historian’s mind, especially given what he knew. It would not do to upset him, and Jakob wasn’t certain that he could force Novan to share anything more than what he wanted to anyway. The historian could be frustratingly stubborn that way.

  Novan gave him the same smile once more and nodded down the hall. “Come. Let us meet with Alriyn, and see what the Magi pursue, and then we can see what answers we might find for you.”

  “From Haerlin?”

  Novan nodded. “From Haerlin. From others. I think there are a great many things you need to know.”

  They continued down the hall, and Jakob took Anda’s hand, wanting to have that connection to her as they reached the Eldest on the Council of the Magi.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The door opened and revealed a massive room filled with books, reminding Jakob of the library in Chrysia. He imagined Novan’s private quarters looking something similar to this, though he had never actually visited Novan’s private quarters. The Mage standing before them had a stern expression and dark gray hair that was cut short. His eyes wore a bright intensity to them and matched that which Jakob saw from Novan.

  Recognition showed in his eyes. “Historian.”

  Novan tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Eldest.”

  Alriyn grunted, the sound coming off as both amused and annoyed. “The last I heard, you were heading toward Thealon.”

  “Thealon. Chrysia. Gomald. All were places I had a need to visit.” Novan shrugged and glanced into the room, looking past the Mage. “Do you intend to keep us standing here, or will you allow my apprentice and me into your room.

  It was the second time Jakob had heard Novan refer to him as his apprentice. There seemed something important about that, something that the Magi must have heard and known about him.

  “Apprentice?” The older Mage’s gaze darted past Novan and fixed Jakob with a long stare. “You found him? He survived?”

  Novan chuckled. “Considering your niece lies on a bed inside your room, I suspect you know as well as I do that he survived the north.”

  Niece? Roelle was here?

  When he had healed her, she had been in need of more time, and he suspected that she would return to Vasha, though hadn’t known for sure. The Magi warriors were the reason the groeliin had been slowed. Were it not for them, the horde of groeliin that had headed south would have been more than what anyone else could have slowed.

  Without waiting for permission, he pushed past Novan, and past Alriyn, and stepped into the room. In addition to the shelves filled with books, and a large table in one section of the room, there was a bed as Novan had said with Roelle lying with her eyes closed upon it. Blankets were piled on top, pulled all the way up to her chin. Her dark hair streamed free. There was color in her cheeks that hadn’t been there before. Faint ahmaean swirled around her, but not as strong as what he thought he remembered. Maybe that was little more than an inability to remember clearly.

  “Don’t wake her,” Alriyn said.

  Jakob turned as he reached Roelle’s bed, kneeling next to her. “I have no intention of waking her. I only wanted to see how well she’s doing.”

  Anda stood next to Novan, and Jakob flushed slightly realizing how quickly he had hurried over to Roelle’s side. There had always been something about the Mage that appealed to him, but then there was also something about Anda that appealed to him. Having them both together—even though they had traveled together for a time—made him even more acutely aware of those sentiments.

  “I understand that I have you to thank that she still lives,” Alriyn said.

  “I did what I could,” Jakob said. “I am not so skilled yet.”

  Alriyn nodded. “Not so skilled? Had you done nothing, I suspect Roelle would have died. What you did was enough. It required the healing of the damahne to save her.”

  Jakob looked up. Novan had warned him that Alriyn knew about the damahne, but it still surprised him that he spoke so comfortably about it.

  “I barely have control of my abilities,” Jakob admitted.

  “Perhaps, but had you done nothing, she would
not have survived.” Alriyn tapped him on the shoulder. “Now, let her rest. She recovers, but it happens slowly.”

  Alriyn motioned them to a door in the back of the room, and Jakob reluctantly followed him and Novan. Anda joined him, and he sensed nothing from her. There was no uneasiness from her ahmaean, but that didn’t change the fact that he felt uncomfortable about how eagerly he had hurried over to Roelle.

  The room they entered was empty except for three cots. Three Magi rested on the cots, all of them sleeping soundly. A short woman, compact and with gray-streaked hair, leaned over one of the Magi, tracing something on the Mage’s ankle.

  The woman looked up as they entered, and her gaze bounced from Jakob to Anda and finally to Novan where her eyes widened. “Historian. I’d heard that you were welcomed back into the city.”

  “Welcomed might be a bit of an exaggeration, Alison. I think tolerated might be better suited.”

  She chuckled and stood, her gaze lingering on the Mage’s ankle. There was what appeared to be a branding that reminded him of what Salindra had experienced, though it had been changed, modified in such a way that the branding no longer appeared to be quite as painful. Ahmaean did not seep from the Mage, not as it had from Salindra.

  Had they discovered some way of healing that didn’t require the daneamiin?

  “I understand you and the Eldest have begun to study together.”

  “Is that what you’ve heard?”

  Novan shrugged. “People talk.”

  Alison laughed. It was a carefree sound, one that seemed easy for her. “Much like they talk about you, Novan?”

  He grimaced. “Unfortunately. I’m interested in what you and Alriyn have been working on. It’s my understanding that you might have found some way to reverse the effect of the Deshmahne attack.”

 

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