A Warden's Purpose (Wardens of Issalia Book 1)

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

  Everson thought of the timekeeper and the modifications he had made to it since the competition. He considered telling them that it now worked flawlessly but decided to hold back for fear of having to reveal his secret.

  A soft hand touched his arm. “I…like working with you, Everson,” Ivy said in her shy voice, her eyes downcast.

  After a moment, he nodded. “If you two are set on it, we can work together.”

  “Wonderful!” Donnell patted Everson’s shoulder. “Now, what are we going to build?” When Everson didn’t respond, Donnell’s eyes narrowed. “You have a plan, right?”

  “Yes. I have a plan,” Everson said. “If it works, this will be unlike anything ever created.”

  Everson found Jonah staring with the gleam of longing in his eyes. With a chuckle, Everson turned toward the front of the class, toward the target of his roommate’s attention.

  Leaning over her desk as she recorded a note, Master Alridge stood and faced the class. Her friendly smile lit the room.

  “We are now past the mid-point of the school year. Thus far, you have learned numerous Chaos runes and their applications.” With her hands clasped before her, she strode down the center of the classroom. “You understand how Chaos can turn a simple rock into a bright light, how it can increase or decrease the gravitational effect on an object, how it can turn something solid into something brittle, and how a Chaos augmentation can bring an inanimate object to life. Today, we begin to delve into the more dangerous runes.”

  Reaching the back of the classroom, she spun about and resumed her lecture. “The Chaos rune for Power is among the most useful, yet it can be dangerous. With this rune, the kinetic energy of whatever receives the augmentation becomes many times more powerful than its original state. Apply a Power rune to a catapult and it may reach a target miles away rather than the typical range of a thousand feet or less.

  “The danger comes in abuse. You see, Power is among the runes we can use on a human being. I can tell you from experience that a super-charged warrior is a frightening thing, able to perform feats that might seem unimaginable. A well-trained fighter with such an augmentation can become a killing machine, able to face and defeat dozens of trained soldiers.”

  Images of magic-powered warriors danced in Everson’s head. The concept brought a sense of awe – tempered by an overarching fear. He raised his hand.

  “Yes, Everson?” Alridge nodded toward him.

  “This ability to augment the power of a soldier…couldn’t that be used against us by an enemy as well?”

  The Arcane Arts instructor’s face turned grim. “Yes, that is truly a risk, Everson. Chaos can become a weapon, or, in this case, turn people into weapons of mass destruction.”

  She paced down the aisle again, her hips swaying as she walked. “Hundreds of years ago, the Ministry decided that the threat of Chaos was worse than the positives. Their response was to take drastic steps to eradicate it.” A few students in the room nodded at the idea. “All knowledge of its use was destroyed,” she paused, her voice becoming somber, “as were the people who could wield it.”

  Everson gasped at the thought. Images of the systematic murder of anyone who possessed the ability flashed in his mind. “These people were murdered because of something inside them, something they did not choose?” he blurted. “Without having acted with ill intent, they were killed for something they might do?”

  Sadness reflected upon her face. “Again, you see to the heart of the issue, Everson. Regardless of what justification they proclaimed, what the Ministry did was an act of genocide…an act far worse than what any arcanist has ever committed.”

  She strolled to the fore of the classroom and began to relay applications for the Power rune. Everson’s thoughts drifted as he imagined ways he could use this new augmentation to enhance various inventions. It was not long before he found himself eager to test the results.

  Everson leaned close to Donnell. “Cut it here and here, just like the drawing. Keep the edges clean and don’t damage them.”

  “I don’t understand why you need cork.” Donnell complained. “What are these disks for anyway?”

  With a shake of his head, Everson replied, “I told you already. You can help me build this, but I’ll not reveal what we are creating until I’m ready.”

  “We’ve been at this for weeks, crafting parts for who-knows-what.” Donnell glanced across his bench, meeting Ivy’s gaze. “Do you think this is fair?”

  She shrugged and turned toward Everson. “While I’m curious, when we agreed to help Everson, it was under the condition that he could keep the purpose a secret for a while.” She lowered the magnifying lenses over her eyes and turned her attention toward the thin strip of metal she was working. “I suggest you accept it and stop torturing yourself, Donnell.”

  A frown crossed Donnell’s face, and he threw a disgusted glance toward Everson, who laughed as he rose to his feet and shuffled away.

  After crossing the room, he approached the metal band he had formed in the forge, inspecting the steel now that it had cooled. As his father had taught him, the iron ingot had been heated with coal and beaten, stretched, and shaped in controlled heat. Now cooled, the thinned metal remained strong, yet flexible.

  He put it aside and turned toward the utility door. A longing drew his attention toward it. He stood and shuffled to the door. When he pulled it open, he found himself squinting at the bright snow-covered Foundry Yard. The air was cold, but not bitter cold. Now on the backside of winter, a few warm days would melt the remaining snow. Those days couldn’t come soon enough, for something out there called to him. It waited in the quarry, the key to his new creation.

  With a sigh, he closed the door and shuffled back to his workbench, where he pulled out the drawing for the next component he was to craft.

  31

  Esteemed Guests

  “…and while the positive end of a magnetic field attracts a negative field, it repels another positive field. Behold.”

  Master Nindlerod moved one magnet close to the other. The second magnet lurched away from the first, sliding across the benchtop each time the two drew close to one another. Nindlerod cackled in laughter as the last lurch launched the second magnet off the benchtop.

  Everson craned his neck and watched in interest. He immediately began imagining practical applications for magnetics and found himself wondering if a magnetic field could be charged to a high degree.

  The bell rang, interrupting the thought.

  “Before you leave, remember that the winter Inventor’s Challenge is two weeks away. Finish your projects and prepare your demonstrations.” Nindlerod rubbed his palms together in anticipation. “I’m looking forward to the new creations you plan to present.”

  Students filtered out the door with Everson trailing behind. When he stepped into the hallway, he found Donnell waiting for him.

  “You heard Nindlerod,” Donnell said. “We only have two weeks left. Are we going to get it done in time?”

  Everson considered the work remaining as he shuffled down the corridor. “We are nearly done crafting the components. In two days, assembly should begin.” Images of the components coming together flashed in his head, with the most critical ingredient missing. “However, there is one key item that I must procure.”

  Donnell frowned. “Procure? What are you talking about?”

  Everson shared a smirk. “I’m talking about the element that brings our creation to life.”

  A sigh came from his friend as they turned the corner. “Why must you forever be cryptic? Besides, you have yet to tell us what we are building.”

  “I know, I know. When we begin assembling it, I’ll explain the whole thing.”

  As they drew near the main hall, Everson discovered a crowd gathering. Judging by the students’ behavior, something was happening – something exciting. When he neared the rear of the crowd, he found Ivy and nudged her to get her attention.

  “What’s happening?”
/>   She turned toward him, her eyes alight with excitement. “It’s a king.”

  “What?” Donnell asked.

  “A king is here, right up ahead.”

  “Which king?”

  “King Brock of Kantaria.”

  Donnell’s eyes widened and he began pushing his way through the crowd. Eager to get a glimpse of royalty, Everson trailed in the larger boy’s wake, careful to stay close to Donnell before the gap he created closed behind him. Some students became upset at the pushing, but they were soon left behind. When Donnell reached the front, Everson slid in beside him.

  A line of guards – dressed in black armor marked by a red starburst insignia – stood before the crowd, keeping the students in check. Beyond the guards, five men were in discussion. A grim-faced guard stood among them, along with Headmaster Ackerson, and Master Hedgewick. One of the last two men leaned hard against a cane, his thickly muscled arm trembling violently. With a bald head, graying goatee, and a white scar across one temple, the man appeared to be a former soldier, now crippled by something that affected his leg. The fifth man, Everson decided, must be the king.

  He stood shorter than the other men, even slightly shorter than Master Hedgewick. In his thirties, the man possessed an athletic build, brown hair, and intense green eyes. An Order rune marked the man’s forehead, eclipsed by the Chaos rune of a red starburst – a rune Everson had never seen on a forehead. While the man’s form-fitting black leather coat appeared dashing, he did not appear very king-like.

  When the discussion finished, the man shook Ackerson’s hand and then headed toward the crowd where Everson stood watching. Two of the guards who held the crowd in place stepped forward and began using their arms to create a gap – a gap that placed Donnell to one side, Everson on the other. More guards passed by, leading the way while the others walked toward Everson. As the king passed, his eyes locked with Everson’s for a moment, accompanied by a smile and a nod. Star struck, Everson found himself unable to respond. Then, the man was gone, sliding through the crowd as the limping soldier and grim-faced guard followed behind.

  Despite the sense of awe that lingered, Everson immediately liked the man. That brief moment of connection left him feeling like Brock was a man of compassion, not just another faceless ruler who ignored those beneath them.

  Everson’s gaze shifted toward Donnell and found his friend staring toward the king’s back, his eyes narrowed and lips pressed together so hard, they had turned pale.

  Everson and Jonah entered the dining hall the next morning and found the room buzzing with excitement. In addition to King Brock, the king of Torinland, the queen of Ri Starr, and the leader of the Tantarri had arrived. Anxiety and concern tainted conversations filled with conjecture. Everyone wondered what could possibly draw half the rulers of Issalia to the school.

  When Everson discovered that Duchess Mae was among the visitors, he recalled Quinn’s tale of meeting the woman. The thought made him wonder if the subject might be related to Vinacci’s attack of Cinti Mor.

  Just before breakfast was to end, Headmaster Ackerson entered the room with a female student at his side. The girl rang the bell with vigor, the clanging chime echoing noisily and ending all conversation. With the students quiet and all eyes on Ackerson, the man addressed the room.

  “As you have no doubt discovered, we have some highly esteemed guests visiting us. Meetings will take place for the next few days, meetings that will require my attendance as well as a number of academy instructors.” His gaze swept across the room. “As a result, all classes are cancelled until further notice.”

  The buzz of voices rose at this news. Ackerson nodded to the student with the bell, and she rang it again until all attention had been restored.

  “Please be respectful of the meetings and do not cause any trouble. I suspect you recognize the value of free time, and I suggest you make the most of it.”

  Turning about, Ackerson swept out the door with his assistant trailing behind.

  “No class today.” Jonah gave Everson a sidelong glance. “What should we do?”

  Everson grinned. “I have a plan. Let’s go back to our room to grab our cloaks and I’ll tell you about it.”

  They left the dining hall and headed down the long corridor that led to their room. Once there, both boys donned their grey wool cloaks and then Everson pulled a pack from the wardrobe. The contents inside the pack clinked, drawing Jonah’s attention.

  “What’s in the pack?”

  “Caffe mugs,” Everson responded.

  “Why?”

  “We need to collect something with them,” Everson said with a shrug.

  Jonah’s eyes narrowed in thought. “You’re after more chunks of that black rock.”

  “Good guess.”

  With an eye-roll, Jonah opened the door. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  They traveled down the long corridor and found a cluster of people before them as they passed the Infirmary. Guards in the black and red of Kantaria, joined by guards dressed in the dark green of Torinland, formed a half-circle around a pair of doors that led to the Hall of Truth. The space between the guards and the wall opposite from the doors remained empty, with a crowd to either side. Everson shuffled into the nearest crowd and found himself beside Donnell, who stared in silent observation.

  Master Alridge emerged from the crowd beyond the guards, and gave a small smile she walked past them. Everson’s gaze shifted to the man with her – the mysterious man in black. As he hobbled past, leaning on his cane, the man gave a small nod toward Jonah, a nod that Everson thought he saw Jonah return.

  “Do you know him?” he asked with a frown.

  Jonah turned toward Everson and blinked. “What? No. How would I know him?”

  When Everson turned toward the doors, the man passed through them. A brief glimpse of the room beyond revealed a table at the far end, resting upon a dais. At the table, King Brock sat in discussion with Master Hedgewick. The door closed and Everson found his curiosity peaked, wishing he could get closer to discover what was to occur within the room. Clearly, the guards were stationed to prevent that from happening.

  “Come on.” Jonah crossed the open space before the guards and slid through the crowd.

  As Everson followed his friend, he wondered what had happened to draw the rulers of Issalia together…and wondered if King Ulric was among them.

  When they reached the Foundry, Everson was surprised to find it quiet and empty of students. With the Inventor’s Challenge approaching, he was sure that there was work yet to finish for every team. The distraction of the visiting rulers must have drawn everyone’s attention.

  Jonah opened the utility door and led Everson outside. The sky above was gray, threatening to rain as it had every day for the past week. The result of days of rain was immediately apparent.

  With the snow gone, the gravel of the Foundry Yard was visible everywhere but for a few rogue snow piles along the north side of the building. Puddles, wide and shallow, small yet deep, dotted the yard. Once they passed the outbuilding, the gravel gave way to the soggy turf of snow-trampled grass. The effect caused Everson’s canes to sink inches into the ground and frequently become stuck. As a result, Jonah reached the quarry far before he did.

  Everson stopped at the quarry edge and found Jonah below, squatting beside the rock. When Jonah reached toward the boulder, Everson held his breath, anticipating…hoping. A crackle of red energy arced toward Jonah’s finger and he yelped, jumping backward and nearly falling when his boot slipped in the mud.

  A grin crossed Everson’s face, and he shuffled down the rocky incline. “I’m surprised that you subjected yourself to that.”

  Jonah pulled his finger from his mouth and looked at it. “I thought that maybe…maybe the energy had dissipated.” He shook his head as he stared at the rock. “I can’t believe it lasted all winter.”

  Everson settled beside Jonah and slid his pack off his shoulder. “I’m glad it did. Otherwise, my idea wouldn’t wo
rk.”

  Jonah gave him a half smile. “Are you going to tell me what you’re up to?”

  A chuckle was Everson’s response. He pulled the pick from his bag and handed it to Jonah. “Just break off a few more pieces for me.”

  Jonah moved closer to the rock and swung the pick. After a dozen strikes, a section of the rock shattered, spilling chunks into the mud. When Jonah turned toward Everson, he found a mug waiting.

  “Use the pick to push a chunk into each mug.”

  Jonah snorted in response, but did as requested. As he filled each mug with sections of the black rock, Jonah handed them to Everson, who carefully slid them into his pack. Once finished, Everson tied the pack closed and shouldered it, noticing how the weight had increased. Both boys then climbed out of the quarry and retraced their steps back to the academy.

  As they neared the school, Everson spotted someone climbing up a tall ladder that leaned against a wall of the Foundry.

  “Isn’t that Donnell?” Everson asked.

  Jonah’s gaze shifted toward where Everson pointed his cane. “Yes. I think you’re right.” He watched for a moment and then turned toward Everson. “You go back inside. I’ll find you later.”

  When he angled toward the rear of the Foundry, Everson called after him. “Where are you going?”

  “I want to see what he’s doing.”

  Everson frowned at the thought. His braces made him capable, but climbing a ladder was beyond that capability. Besides, the Foundry roof was three stories up. He shuddered at the thought of falling such a distance.

  Rather than wait, he headed back to the Foundry to begin the final assembly of his greatest invention.

  32

  Truth Untold

  Hours passed with Everson working alone. Periodically, he would glance toward the utility door and wonder about Jonah.