The Focus Stone (The Tome of Law Book 1)

by Matthew W. Harrill

  The vision presented before him left him speechless. Her eyes were a contrast to the others too, a shock of blue where everyone else was dark brown. “I'm honoured to meet you,” he managed to stammer. Joleen smiled at him, and his heart soared. He looked back at Belyn, who was grinning slyly at him. “So I assume you have had some food then, my brother.”

  Belyn nodded. “I was looking for the horses, and these two nearly frightened me out of my skin. I turned around and they were just there! Appeared as if from nowhere.”

  “It was not hard to approach one who makes such noise with stealth,” added Joleen, looking at Keldron. “If all of your kind make as much noise as he does, I am surprised you can ever hear anyone talk.” Keldron laughed, as did Joleen.

  “I think Belyn was noisy in the womb,” he replied, pausing to quickly finish the last of his meal.

  Lothan stood up. “Well now we are all here, I believe it is time for you to hear the answers you came to seek.”

  Raoul looked up at Lothan. “You mean you are going to tell us?”

  “Sorry Law Wizard, not me. If you will follow me, someone wants to see you.” Lothan walked in to the cave.

  Belyn looked after him, staring at the entrance. “In there? That's just a cave. There is nobody in there.”

  Yerdu grabbed Belyn's hand and near pulled him up. “All you have seen, all you have learnt and still you believe so little?”

  A haunted expression crossed Belyn's face, but it passed as quickly as it came. “I suppose so,” he replied in a more subdued voice. Joleen took Keldron's hand, causing him to rise. Her grip was sure and her hand was slightly warm; it was a pleasure for him to hold her hand. Raoul skipped ahead of them to walk alongside Lothan.

  “Nothing is as it seems,” Lothan said as he led them around the fire to the far side of the room.

  He walked towards the wall of stone, glowing a fiery yellow from the fire near the entrance. The rock almost seemed to shimmer; so effective was its reflection. And then Lothan disappeared. Just like that. One minute Keldron had been watching him walking towards the wall, and the next minute he had vanished.

  “Is that what I believe it to be?” asked Belyn from behind Raoul.

  Keldron peered at the wall. It looked solid all the way around the cavern. “I think so, Bel, but I cannot sense anything of it.”

  “Me neither,” added Raoul. Keldron looked at his friends. The three of them stood staring at a rock wall as if their lives depended on it. Joleen and Yerdu exchanged a quiet comment and laughed.

  “What's so funny?” asked Belyn, scratching his beard in perplexion.

  “You are,” answered Yerdu.

  “You cannot see what is right in front of you.” Confused, Belyn turned back to see a hand sticking out of the wall.

  “Come,” said Lothan's voice, and the hand beckoned towards them. Tentatively, Raoul reached towards the rock face, and gasped as his hand moved through it. The slightest of ripples could be seen as his arm slid slowly through, as if he were reaching into a pond. The hand took hold of him, and Raoul had a moment to let out a surprised yelp before he too vanished.

  “Go on,” Joleen beckoned to Keldron,” we will be right here when you come back. He reached towards the face, and felt the slightest of tingling sensations. He realised that it was himself trembling, and his expectation for the tingling that was the source. In essence his own feelings were producing the expected sensation. He pushed at the wall, and his own hand disappeared. He felt a brief chill as his own arm passed through. With Joleen's encouraging smile behind him, Keldron pressed himself full against the rock. As he passed through he felt as if he was waking up refreshed from a deep sleep on a chill winter morning. It was as if the focus he had passed through had awakened the very depths of his soul.

  When he opened his eyes, he found Lothan and Raoul waiting in the dark chamber on the other side. He looked back. Belyn was right behind him, but on the other side of the focus. From what Keldron had learned, this type of focus was similar in origin to the false wall focus that Belyn had created. He knew that it was somehow different. Belyn appeared less substantial, as if he were formed of a dense mist. The actual focus itself appeared to have an oily sheen from this side, as if a light had sent out feelers across the surface. The strangest thing was the lack of feeling. With any focus, if you knew what to look for you could always discern it. There was none of that here. Keldron turned back to the others.

  “Where are we Lothan? Are we still in the cave?”

  Before Lothan could answer, Belyn came stumbling through the eerie sheen behind them. “She pushed me! I was looking at the focus and she pushed me through it!” Through the other side, Keldron could make out the misty forms of Yerdu and the lovely Joleen laughing before turning away. Though he had just met the woman, the sight of her leaving caused a feeling of longing in Keldron that had been gone a long time. Belyn shouldered his way through to Lothan. “Where are we and why can I not sense that focus?”

  Lothan glanced back at the focus. “We are in the province of Ilia, the Earth Goddess. As for that gateway, I cannot say. We do not know the answer.” He turned, and started to walk the steps in front of them. “It is said that Ilia once dwelt here during the creation of our world. This place has been sacred to my people for generations uncounted.”

  The steps were slippery with water that had somehow made its way through cracks in the rock above down to this place. Keldron was very aware of just how much rock stood above his head. He hunched instinctively at the thought of ending his days in a rocky grave, bereft of light, food and eventually air. Crude torches had been planted into cracks in the rock, and he used this and the need to keep his footing sure as a focus away from the rock above his head. Sooty black marks stained the ceiling where the torches had burned for years before, creeping like tendrils of darkness across the roof of the tunnel.

  As they followed Lothan up the stairs, the only sound came from their footfalls, coupled with the echoed drips. The steps were smooth and not quite uniform. Made of the same rock as the rest of the tunnel, they had been worn smooth through generations of use. More difficult for the three used to indoor, dry conditions was the fact that all of the steps sloped down towards them, making it all the more difficult. Lothan kept pace with them, though Keldron could see he was much more used to this.

  “How far now?” asked Belyn, who was clearly not used to the amount of exercise he had been getting this past day or so.

  “Not far, maker of spells,” replied Lothan with out looking back.

  “You truly are a man destined to drive the wagon, my friend,” laughed Raoul, earning a scowl from his red-headed friend.

  They carried on for a short while, following the twists of the winding tunnel. Eventually, the climb became less steep. The steps broadened out so that instead of single file, they could walk at least two abreast. It was at this point that Keldron noticed the walls had a faint yellow sheen to them, as if something up ahead were alight and these were the farthest reaches of its luminosity.

  “We near the chamber,” announced Lothan with sincere reverence in his voice. “I ask that I ask only that you respect what you see, and listen to whatever is said.”

  “Mystical words, Lothan,” replied Raoul. “I suppose as usual you are not going to tell us what it is we should expect.”

  Lothan smiled. “That you would say that means you respect me enough not to question me further. I may not say anything to you because I cannot. I have never been here before, nor have any of the people who were outside. My people waited for a sign, knowing that only then would those chosen be allowed to enter here. We have lived for generations in the heart of the forest waiting for the sign. Even were I to have knowledge of what we will see in here, I would not speak, for it would cloud your judgement. The words I have spoken have been passed down through my family for generations untold, in the hope that one would get the opportunity to enter the chamber. For me it is the utmost honour that I be the one to go there. Ev
en now, my people rejoice, though you would not know it, but in their hearts, they weep with joy.”

  Belyn clapped Lothan on the shoulder. “Good for you, pal. I always like to see people getting ahead in life.”

  As the steps widened further, they levelled off. Keldron also noticed the water had ceased dripping. Bathed in the glowing yellow of the light from ahead, the tunnel was now quite dry and safe. The glow had a kind of warmth that relaxed Keldron and his friends. He found that where he had been tired and stressed, now he was perfectly calm within himself. Even the recent meeting with the beautiful Joleen seemed distant.

  The stairs wound to the right for a while, the yellow glow intensifying all the time they walked. Eventually the tunnel widened out into a chamber. It looked about as big as the cave through which they had entered from first glance, but then Keldron realised that there was more to it. The path they were on crested a ridge of stone, and when the four men stepped onto the top, they saw the true extent of the chamber, and the source of the light.

  Nearly blinded by it, Keldron shielded his eyes from the glow, wincing at the intensity. Lothan dropped to one knee, and head bowed, started muttering something incomprehensible. The path sloped gently down towards the centre of the chamber, which had to be at least a quarter of the size of the bowl valley outside. From a different angle, Keldron studied the source of the light. A great quartz crystal hung from the centre of the domed ceiling. It looked as if it had been thrust through the top, left there as a dagger would be if it had pierced the top of a barrel. The glow emitted was stronger in places, the entrance being one of the strongest. Keldron looked back. Lothan, bent to one knee was bathed in the light. He looked somewhat larger in the amber glow of the quartz's radiance. Like a man born anew he stood and gazed at the chamber. The glow made his hair appear lighter, almost as yellow as the light itself.

  He walked down towards the three wizards, and Keldron saw that his eyes had also turned the yellow of the light. He peered into those amber eyes for a while. Lothan seemed the same person he was just moments before, but there was definitely something different about him. “What is it, Lothan? What has happened?” Lothan opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. He looked questioningly off to one side, then back at Keldron, Belyn and finally Raoul. As if this brought him round, he shut his mouth and put his hand on Keldron's shoulder to gently urge him down the slope. “I understand what is needed of me, we should walk the chamber now.” Without giving them chance to say anything more, Lothan walked off down the gentle slope of the chamber's floor.

  Keldron felt bemused by all that was happening; Lothan's eyes changing colour was odd enough, but there was something about the room, as if they were not alone. Up ahead was a large pile of rags in front of some sort of pillar on the opposite side of the room. They circled the room towards it, avoiding the spot directly underneath the crystal. There were no other entrances to the room that Keldron could see, but he reasoned that since they had come over a rise, it might be possible that other entrances might be hidden from view in a similar fashion. Still, he thought to himself, if this was the dwelling place for the holy Ilia, she had no need of a man-made entrance.

  As they approached the pile of rags, it appeared to twitch, Keldron was sure of it. Nearer still, and he saw movement again. From one side of the pile emerged an old man. He moved away from it as if he had been formed from its contents. His clothes were similar to those of Lothan, though they were much more worn, and patched where they had become too threadbare. He had lank grey hair streaked with white and black in equal proportions, but the thing that struck Keldron were the colour of his eyes. In this light, they appeared to be exactly the same as Lothan's had become. They sparkled out from behind his beard, which was exactly the same colour as his hair. The man must have been ancient to have hair that long, and he appraised them as they walked slowly towards him. The outer vestiges of what could only be called a smile appeared from behind the beard. He opened his arms in welcome. “At last you have come, as they told me you would.” Without further word of greeting, he looked Lothan up and down. “So, they chose you as a replacement. Were the other three similarly chosen?”

  Lothan nodded. “They are the three who woke from the dreams of good and evil. The outsiders who will ultimately restore that which is lost.”

  The old man focussed his attention on the three of them. “I bid you welcome to the Chamber of Amber, the dwelling place for countless ages of the Goddess Ilia, while she wrought this world out of her dreams and ideas. Here lay the past guardians of this place, for it was given to us, in a time long ago, the responsibility of guarding this chamber and maintaining it, that one day people might witness the glory that I have.” He gripped Lothan by the hands. “May the roots that are deepest provide you with health.”

  “And may the boughs of shelter keep you safe till the end of days,” he replied The old man smiled, more obviously this time. “I am Grimrage Elmbane, called by some Grimrage the Wise, the last leader of our people.”

  Lothan nodded another greeting. “I am called Lothan Arrowwood, guardian and protector to our people in the ancient forest. I am honoured to meet one of the people from the homeland.”

  Satisfied that the right person had come to him, Grimrage looked at the three guildsmen. “I was sent here over twenty years ago to become custodian of this place. I knew that in time three would come seeking answers. I have certain knowledge that will be able to help you, but only if you ask the right questions. But make haste, for time is short.”

  Keldron already knew what he had to ask the man, and what the answer would be, but it was a point to start from. “The impalings. They were not carried out by your people were they?”

  The old man shook his head and smiled. “Straight to the heart of the matter, just as I would have expected you to be. No, my people were not the cause of the murders at midsummer. Another was responsible for that. I was bidden to show you a sign that is related to all of this though, were you to come here and ask that very question.” Grimrage moved to the pillar behind his mound of rags and unclasped a metal link, which held it together. With a clatter, several thin pieces of wood fell outwards at the release of the clasp.

  What was left shocked Keldron to his very core. A large spear, at least as thick as a fist, remained upright in the floor. It had a crosspiece some way up from the bottom and its shaft was covered in runes. This spear also had several dark stains down its length, mostly gathered beneath the crosspiece. They looked like dried bloodstains if ever Keldron had seen them. “But you said you had nothing to do with it,” he argued in wonder, mixed with more than just a touch of angst.

  “I said my people had nothing to do with the impalings at midsummer. What you make of this is your own opinion, but I was bidden to show you this. It will bring your attention to focus on what needs to be looked at, rather than what you would have the answers to.” As the old man spoke, he looked somewhat indistinct, as if he had started to fade. He noticed this and looked at Lothan. “My time is nearly up, guard this place well.” He looked around the room. “You would probably not believe it, but I have fond memories of this chamber. I would have spent my entire life here if I could have.”

  He then looked back at the three wizards watching him. “Belyn, I know your fear, but faith will overcome all. You have to have faith. Raoul, you are on the right path, but do not be too presumptuous; people will only listen to what they want to hear. Keldron, I cannot tell you all that you need to learn, for your path is to seek out the answer. All I can tell you is that an object was taken from our people nigh on thirty years ago, an object that is sacred and can bring help to many. These killings were designed to bring it out in to the open. Only time will tell if it worked.” Grimrage was but a mere shadow in the amber light now, he seemed to be merging with it. “Lothan, my son, you are the luckiest man alive, after me of course.” The old man managed a smile before the amber light grew to such intensity that they could no longer see him.

/>   A whisper, uttered as a subtle counter note to the beautiful noise of the amber light, that Keldron was sure all of the men present could hear, reverberated around the chamber, and he heard in his mind the lingering voice of Grimrage.

  “You must seek the Tome of Law, Keldron…All the answers lie therein, as does the power to vanquish those who would do evil…”

  Chapter Five

  O brett ached. Oh, how he ached. The chains that bound him left him painfully short of being able to sit. Instead he had to lean against the rock in the wall behind him for any comfort. Scant comfort that was though. The rock was cold, and often damp, with moisture permeating the cell nearly all day and all night. He was painfully aware of everything around him. The way the flecks of rust on his manacles managed to press sharp specks into his wrists; the pitch of the shriek of the door's hinges every time it was opened. It was as if it had all been designed to drive him mad. His legs ached more than anything else though, and sometimes he had been forced to let himself just hang with his arms burning in agony to let his legs get some sort of respite. At least they had not taken his shoes. He knew that it would have been many times more uncomfortable had he the cold of the floor to contend with as well as everything else. He had taken to counting the pits in the floor and walls as the only means of entertainment, occasionally betting with himself on how long it would take a drop of water to move a distance down the wall, or how many shadows would pass by his door before it opened. He had no knowledge of why anybody would want him taken.

  Aside from teaching three young novices to think for themselves, he had followed the order's rules to the letter. He hoped that his young charges were faring well, and silently said a prayer to more than one of the Gods to look kindly upon them. He realised now that they had wanted to get away from the order a great deal more than he thought at the time. Belyn would not have set the ward upon his door had he ever the intention of returning to that place. There were more mysteries to contend with though.