The Lost City (The Lost Prophecy Book 5)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “If Raime is somehow bringing teralin north, and using that to facilitate breeding, how will the Antrilii be able to stop that? Is there anything they can even do?”

  “That might be where you can help,” Endric said. “But it’s not the only place you can help. He will have multiple avenues all taking him toward the destination he desires. Until you master your ability to look along the fibers—and possibly after that, since I suspect Raime has some way of concealing himself that you have yet to discover—you will need to counter him in as many places as possible.”

  “By that, you include the south, where the Deshmahne remain strong.”

  “I think we must, but even in that, you won’t be alone. The Magi have agreed to send representatives to the south, and they are working to regain their influence. The Deshmahne have proven themselves to people over the years because of their claimed connection to the gods, but having the Magi out in the world, and letting them be seen, will cause the people to question.”

  “Don’t you think that will create conflict?”

  A wide smile spread on Endric’s face. “Perhaps once it would have, but that was before we had Magi warriors willing to defend the Magi.”

  “You intend to send Roelle south.”

  “Roelle, as well as the others. Any who are willing to go with her.”

  “And not north. Not to face the groeliin.”

  “The Antrilii are responsible for facing the groeliin.”

  “They have in the past, but without the Magi, the groeliin would have overrun everything. They reached Thealon before they were stopped.”

  “I am well aware of the impact the groeliin had on these lands, much as I am well aware of the need for having the Magi assist in that confrontation.”

  “You’re the reason the Magi went and joined the Antrilii.”

  “I’m the reason that they went. I’m the reason Roelle had her interest in the sword. I’ve been trying for years to convince some of the younger Magi to take up the sword and fight as their ancestors once fought. I knew that a day would come when we would have need of their abilities once more.”

  Jakob looked around, trying to decide where he needed to focus his energies. The answer wasn’t clear to him. It seemed as if others were making plans that he was a part of, but also plans for which he didn’t need to have as much involvement.

  The Antrilii patrolled the north, and the Magi would head south.

  What did that leave for him?

  He looked at Anda and realized there was an area where there had been no influence, one that Raime had already invaded. That was where he needed to go.

  “What is it?” Endric asked.

  “Just a concern. I have been thinking that I needed to travel north and that I needed to find what Raime planned there, but that might not be where I need to focus my attention. I thought that he would go after the groeliin, that he would use them to regain his strength, and he still might. But if what you tell me about the breeding is true, then he can’t use the groeliin—not yet. But there’s another place that he might attempt to invade, a place he has been before.”

  “No—” Anda said.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jakob wanted to return to the Unknown Lands as quickly as possible, especially as he was no longer certain that he hadn’t made a mistake. Before he left, he needed to know whether he could discover anything from Haerlin. He had come to Vasha for answers, and so far, he had only more questions.

  With Anda, Jakob reentered the palace. Novan would be here somewhere, and Jakob could either approach Novan for assistance, or he could wander on his own. He decided to take a different tactic.

  He held Anda’s hand and shifted, back into Alriyn’s quarters, hoping to find answers from the Eldest Mage.

  Alriyn was not in his room, but Roelle was, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing her eyes.

  When Jakob appeared, she blinked, as if disbelieving that he was there. “Jakob?” she said.

  “You’re awake.”

  Roelle glanced from Jakob to Anda. She had replaced her glamour, using it once more to conceal her daneamiin features. Roelle had seen her before but had believed her little more than a companion traveling with them.

  “I understand I have you to thank for that,” she said.

  “I did what I could.”

  “Thank you. I don’t know what has happened to you in the time since we traveled together, but… thank you.”

  It was too much to share with her now. There would come a time when he would sit with Roelle, and he would share what he had been through, but that was not this time.

  “Did you come for my uncle?” Roelle asked. There was a note of disappointment in her voice. She seemed to make a point of not looking at Anda.

  “I need to find Haerlin. I thought your uncle could help me…”

  “I imagine that this has something to do with your newfound abilities?”

  Jakob nodded.

  She stood, though was somewhat shaky as she did. “I should be able to help you find Haerlin. He’s not necessarily the most welcoming of the elders, but if you don’t let his dour mood bother you, he might actually be helpful.”

  Roelle looked around the room until her gaze settled on something on the far side of the room, a bundle propped against the wall. Jakob grabbed it for her and realized that her sword was held within. He unwrapped it and handed it to her, noting warmth coming from the blade.

  “Teralin?” he asked.

  Roelle shrugged. “A gift from Endric when we left the city. Apparently, he thinks I need a fancier blade to cut down groeliin.” She strapped the sword around her waist and took the cloak in which the sword had been wrapped, throwing it over her shoulders.

  As she did, she took on the appearance of a warrior Mage, the woman that he’d seen in the Forest, and much different from the young Magi apprentice he had first met when traveling to Vasha. They had both changed so much in that time. Roelle had a purpose; she served the Magi in the way that their Founders once had served.

  What was his purpose?

  He still didn’t know what it meant for him to be damahne, and he struggled with why he had been given the abilities and gifts that he had. There had to be a reason, much like there had to be something for him, some way for him to use them.

  “That’s better,” she said.

  “You need a sword to walk through the palace?” Jakob asked.

  Roelle smiled sheepishly. “Probably not, but I’ve worn one for so long now that it feels strange not to have it with me. Its presence gives me a certain reassurance. I suspect you understand that.”

  Jakob patted the hilt of his blade. “I understand it quite well.”

  Roelle studied him for a moment, her beautiful face unreadable. She flicked her gaze to Anda for the briefest of moments before it returned to Jakob. “If you’re ready…”

  He nodded.

  Roelle stepped past them, and he noted that she drew upon her ahmaean, likely to strengthen herself. How much had she been weakened through the attack and the subsequent poisoning? He thought that he had removed the effects of the poisoning, but he didn’t have enough control over his abilities to know whether he had been completely successful.

  When they were in the hall, Roelle moved quickly, and with confidence. She walked with a stiff back, and with the same dangerous sort of grace that Endric managed. There was something practically coiled about her, as if she was ready to strike at any moment. And maybe she was.

  He had faced the groeliin, but not nearly as many or for as long as Roelle. She had sought them out, had hunted them, tracking them for weeks, possibly months, and that would have to have changed something about her.

  They reached a stairway, and she glanced briefly to ensure that Jakob still followed. Again seeming to ignore Anda’s presence.

  At the bottom of the stairs, she made her way down the hall, stopping before a door that looked no different from any of the others. A tapestry hung on the wall next to t
he door, this one depicting a scene that looked something like what Jakob imagined the Magi thought the gods looked like, one where they stood on a mountaintop, overlooking a distant land.

  Could that be Vasha?

  There was nothing particularly unique about the mountain, nothing particularly telling about which damahne was depicted.

  Roelle knocked and looked over at Jakob while waiting for the door to open.

  When it did, Jakob saw Haerlin on the other side.

  The last time he’d seen the Mage had been before departing with Novan and the Denraen. Haerlin appeared frailer now, and there was uncertainty in his eyes that caused him to flicker from Roelle to Jakob and finally to Anda.

  When he realized that it was Jakob, his eyes widened.

  “You.”

  Jakob nodded. “Me.”

  “How is it that you’re here? The last that you were seen, you were heading north on Endric’s mission. How is it that you survived when so many others did not?”

  At least that answered the question to Jakob about whether Haerlin knew of his newfound connection to the damahne.

  “You know what we discovered in the north,” Roelle said.

  Haerlin glanced to her, his brow furrowed slightly and a heat to his eyes. “Yes. You’ve made it quite clear what you discovered in the north. What I want to learn is what happened to this young man when Endric sent him away.”

  Roelle laughed softly. Jakob glanced over to her, surprised at the way that she dismissed Haerlin’s concern. When she’d traveled with him before, she had been far more reserved, more hesitant to challenge Haerlin, though she had been willing to continue practicing with the sword, something Jakob knew the Magi had not approved of.

  Was Haerlin one of those who still didn’t approve?

  After everything that he’d seen, and after the Deshmahne attack that Alriyn had described, how could Haerlin not want the Magi to be more involved? Unless it was that exact reason that he didn’t. Maybe there had been too much violence for him, and too much change for Haerlin’s liking.

  Jakob’s reason for coming wouldn’t make that any easier on Haerlin.

  “Elder Haerlin,” Jakob began, “I didn’t come to talk about fighting the groeliin, though I, too, have fought them. I didn’t come to talk about how the Magi have faced and resisted the Deshmahne, though I am aware that you have. I’ve come to talk to you about something that has changed for me.” Haerlin watched him, saying nothing. “I understand that you had a vision of me. That you have some gift with prophecy.”

  Haerlin crossed his arms over his chest and drew himself up. “There has not been a Mage in Vasha with the gift of prophecy for over one hundred years.”

  “Can you tell me what it’s like when you have your visions? Is there—”

  Haerlin started to turn. “I’m not about to speak to some historian apprentice about my abilities.”

  Roelle laughed, and Haerlin paused long enough to shoot a hard glare at her.

  “If you think Jakob is only a historian apprentice, your gift of prophecy needs a little fine tuning,” Roelle said.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Attempt a vision,” Roelle suggested.

  “That’s not how it works.”

  “No? You forget I traveled with you for months. I’ve seen you when you attempt your visions. I’ve seen how you focus yourself and try to bring them to you. Look at Jakob now, and tell me what you see.”

  Haerlin sighed deeply. “Were it not that you helped protect us from an attack, I would see you sent off for additional lessons.”

  “I’m no longer an apprentice,” Roelle said.

  “You need to be promoted by the Council before you can make that claim,” Haerlin said. “And as I sit on the Council, I know that you have not been.”

  “I haven’t a care as to what the Council decides on that matter,” Roelle said. “Now, tell me what you see when you look at Jakob.”

  Haerlin paused and then motioned for the three of them to follow him into his room. It was more formally appointed than what Alriyn’s had been, with two ornately decorated chairs along one wall with a table in the middle. Two more chairs were on the opposite wall, and Haerlin nodded to Roelle and Anda, then toward those chairs.

  He waved for Jakob to take one of the ornate chairs, and he took the other, resting his hands on his lap, looking from Jakob to Roelle. “What is it that you expect me to see?” he asked Roelle.

  “Expect? I don’t know anything about how your ability works, so I don’t expect you to see anything. I thought that if you took a chance, and you looked at Jakob, you might see something about him that will surprise you.”

  Could Haerlin control his ability so well that he could peer into the future in that way? If he could, that would be beneficial for Jakob, and would allow him to gain a greater understanding, perhaps enough that he could learn to control the fibers, and peer along them. Would it be possible for him to learn from one of the Magi something that he couldn’t learn from the damahne?

  “I will try, but I make no guarantees that this will work,” Haerlin said.

  Sitting on the far side of the room, with Anda sitting next to her, Roelle nodded at Jakob.

  He turned his attention to Haerlin and focused on how the elder Mage used his ahmaean. The few Magi he’d spent time with had none of the fine control that the damahne Jakob had seen managed.

  What Haerlin did next surprised Jakob.

  He turned his ahmaean and pushed it inside himself. It was much like what Jakob did when he reached back along the fibers, but this was a folding, one that twisted together, forcing the energy that swirled around him to press inward.

  Once it did that, Jakob could see nothing more.

  He needed to know what Haerlin did.

  He surged his ahmaean, pressing it through Haerlin, joining with his and focusing, letting the Mage drag him forward as he attempted his vision.

  Jakob felt a hint of how he used his ability, the way that the ahmaean pressed forward along the fibers, forced there. There was a bluntness to it, and Jakob added to it, teasing apart the fibers as he looked along them. It was similar to how he tracked backward, trying to unwind the fibers so that he could peer along the path and see what his ancestors had experienced, and yet completely different.

  There was no need to focus only on Jakob’s fibers. Everything was an interaction, and it all twisted together, binding in such a way that it created possibilities.

  And there were dozens—hundreds—of possibilities.

  How was anyone able to learn anything from them?

  Haerlin would not. Jakob saw that clearly, just as he saw how blunt the Mage was with his efforts to look forward. But Jakob didn’t require the same bluntness, and he poured his ahmaean into Haerlin’s work, focusing it in a way that allowed it to be better controlled, and together, they untangled the fibers.

  Jakob saw flashes, enough that he recognized himself within them.

  The flashes faded, and he saw nothing more.

  It took a moment to realize why that was. Haerlin had sagged, his control fading, the force of his ahmaean drifting back and away from the fibers.

  Jakob retreated. He thought that he had some understanding of what Haerlin had done. Maybe it wasn’t enough to re-create himself, but he would take time to see if there was anything more that he could do.

  Haerlin blinked, his eyes clearing as if returning from a dream, which probably was what it was for him.

  What had Haerlin seen? He had more experience with peering along the fibers, and maybe he had seen more than what Jakob had.

  “What did you do?” Haerlin asked. His voice was shaky, and he glanced from Jakob to Roelle.

  “I assisted you.”

  “You should not be able to assist me. What is it that you did?”

  Jakob leaned forward, watching Haerlin. The Mage’s ahmaean was fainter now. Had Jakob used so much that he had weakened Haerlin? He didn’t think the ahmaean could be used up
, but maybe prophecy required a different control than what the rest of the Magi possessed.

  As Jakob watched, the ahmaean slowly returned. It seeped back into him; whatever efforts Haerlin had used to force himself along the fibers gradually returned to the Mage.

  “I needed to know how you used your ability to look forward along the fibers.”

  “Fibers?”

  “That’s what they are called. The fibers of time.”

  “What do you mean by the fibers of time?” Haerlin asked.

  Jakob glanced over to Anda, thinking about the time when he had asked a similar question, and how she had demonstrated the fibers to him by weaving together strands of grass. There was nothing here that he could use to demonstrate for Haerlin, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t explain it to him. It seemed that there had been too much separation of information over the years. Had there not been, would Raime have grown as powerful as he was?

  Jakob stood and went to a table where Haerlin had some books stacked on it. Underneath the books, there were a few sheets of paper, and he one up, noting that it was mostly blank, and began tearing off thin strips.

  Haerlin watched him, saying nothing.

  When Jakob had a dozen strips torn free, he held them in his palm. “The way it has been explained to me is that the fibers of time are woven from strands of possibility. Imagine that these are the possibilities.” He held the strips out, his palms cupped so that Haerlin could see what he was planning. “Those possibilities are what you see with your prophecy. That is what you see in the future. They weave together”—Jakob began twisting the strands of paper together, forming a single stalk—“and this becomes the fibers of the past. If you have some ability, you can look back, you can see what has come before. If you have other ability, you can look forward, and see what might be.”

  “And you can look back along the fiber?” Haerlin asked.

  “All of my kind can look back along the fiber. Looking forward is more difficult.”

  “Your kind? You are the son of a priest, a young man I escorted out of Chrysia.”