Temple of the Traveler: Book 01 - Doors to Eternity

by Scott Rhine

  The workers were still abandoning the Mandala like ants from a kicked mound when a panting apprentice narrowly made it over the closing drawbridge. Still vowing revenge for the rude comments of the north-tower guards, Tumberlin ordered the commander of the stockade wall, “Lazy fool, go get the master immediately!”

  “I don’t take orders from you!” countered the man on the wall. Just then, Tashi made his bid to breach their defenses.

  “More soldiers are coming. Their markings are from the Executioner’s Guild,” said the lookout in a stage whisper.

  “Yes, a few battalions of them should be here once they finish looting whatever part of the tower their siege engines haven’t destroyed. Lord Kragen must be informed,” insisted Tumberlin.

  The head of the watch snapped to attention, “Yes, sir. I’ll carry the message myself.” He and several key advisors left as fast as their feet could carry them.

  Tumberlin walked onto the hard, multicolored, glass surface of the Mandala, clutching his amulet. It was time to find out what this giant, complicated spell was for. The birds from the fossil around his neck swirled about, knocking the linen covers off the sesterina-plated mirrors. All at once, the windmills inside the orbs on every post began to spin. The glare was intense, but the apprentice felt strangely invigorated, almost drunk with confidence. He didn’t see the dwarf and his minions close the hall’s double doors and bar them from the inside.

  The lookout had an excellent view of the proceedings from his parapet, and continued his narration. “Oh gods, there are more swimming out of the water to take the bridge. The men in the courtyard are laying down their weapons and surrendering without a fight.”

  This news enraged Tumberlin, who considered the surrender a personal betrayal. Vowing to punish them, he found the fossil-like paving stone he needed near the summoning circle that had been crafted for him. The blurred pattern of dots was actually a swarm of stinging insects suspended in amber-like sea glass. Focusing his concentration with the ancient chant, the apprentice went through the same steps he had hundreds of times before. Taking off his left boot, Tumberlin touched the fsil with his bare foot, warming it via direct contact with his flesh. Then he allowed a small spark of his own essence to jump into the glass. This would remind the creatures of life and whet their appetites. Finally, he reached inside for the link to the source of his magic, and willed the wasps to appear.

  The mirrors must have helped because the wasps appeared more quickly and in greater numbers than he had ever experienced before. Often the summoner would have to establish clear dominance at this point or strike a deal of some kind with the spirit arrivals. But the wasps would do what he wanted by their very nature. Angry and held back by the Mandala’s defenses, the dark, cloudy swarm circled above, looking for any target for their displeasure. Tumberlin gave them just that, pointing to the traitors in the north-tower compound. The wasps streaked through the sky, eager to wreak vengeance.

  They flew high over the heads of the cringing perimeter guards, as well as the three invaders on the bridge, without slowing. The frenzied shouts and splashing of water near the mainland made their real targets apparent. The archers, who saw the doom approaching first, dove into a hay wagon, hoping to hide. For any man caught in the open, there was no defense against this horror. Fortunately, Babu was stung only once on the leg and managed to crawl to the water past other convulsing victims with multiple ugly welts.

  During the chaos that ensued, the smith took the opportunity to slip over the side of the bridge and cling to the fresh-water pipe that passed underneath. Sulandhurka followed without hesitation. Tashi crawled inside the gateway and hid behind a support pillar for the parapet, wiping and sheathing his brightly polished sword. All observers were so riveted on the disaster that no one saw the invaders inching forward.

  Elated with his first success, Tumberlin was determined that no one would escape his wrath. Hopping forward and over to another spiral arm, the apprentice found another weapon. This time, as he summoned, the dark waters in the moat churned. Just after the crucial spark jumped from the apprentice, Lord Kragen burst into the courtyard and demanded, “What’s the meaning of this?”

  Tumberlin’s eyes shone with glee. “Your enemies are upon you, Lord. Don’t you wish you had been freer with your lessons now?”

  ****

  More screams came from the moat as men were pulled under and bloodstains spread. This blood seemed to attract other hungry spirits that had not been explicitly summoned and therefore acted without control. The archers ran to the edge to help pull Babu out. First, he tossed his sword up onto the bridge to keep it from getting any wetter than it was already. Then, he used both hands to climb. As he hauled himself up the pilings, Babu said, “Only one way to live through this. Get close enough to put an arrow in that damn wiz…” His last order was cut off by swallowed water as something unseen dragged him back in. Since the wasps were turning their way again, the archers decided to take Babu’s advice and head for the source, the eye of this demonic storm. The rearmost archer took a heartbeat to pick up the valuable sword with the mark of their Brotherhood upon the hilt.

  Tashi used the distraction to dash to the edge of the nearest building and pull himself up onto the roof. The smith and the slaver pulled themselves hand-over-hand along the pipe. Sulandhurka gritted his teeth, envisioning a slow-roasting fire for this summoner.

  ****

  Kragen removtosselippers and stood barefoot at the border of the Mandala. His tall, Imperial bodyguard drew his sword and placed several large military darts on a worktable beside him. The darts had spirit-metal tips. He stood ready to guard his master’s back during the confrontation. Both ki mages held their men in reserve for protection, waiting in the wings. There was no evidence yet of who’d killed the fire mage. For all they knew, Tumberlin himself could have inflicted the damage. Indeed, there were no enemies visible, only an over-reaching apprentice about to get a long-deserved come-uppance. Kragen waved a hand and the two portcullises leading to the rest of the island dropped. With the invisible shield blocking the garden archway at the top of the inner stairs and all doors sealed, the only way to the rest of the island was through the furious crime-lord himself.

  “You’re attacking our own men!” bellowed Kragen.

  The sentry still atop the parapet started to correct the high wizard, but saw the blue crackling at the lord’s right hand. Instead of drawing attention to himself, he stepped into the tiny guardhouse, closed the door, and crouched out of sight.

  “Men? They’re no better than dogs!” shouted Tumberlin as the windmills turned faster still. Taking a decisive step toward the center of the design, the apprentice called up a mountain goat, a ram with huge horns. “As are you all!”

  Kragen ignored the threat; intoning a different chant, he strode carefully across the pattern, following only the blue lines. The territorial ram charged in the direction of the drawbridge, missing the high mage altogether. The master had managed to become invisible to the dumb creature. However, the ram continued on its way until it found a target for its lowered rack.

  The lead archer for the Brotherhood was surprised when an unseen force shattered several of his ribs, scattered his quiver, and knocked him from the bridge. His companion, the timid Gallatin, shrieked in blind panic. Afraid of another saurian massacre, he dropped to his knees and began slashing wildly about with his shard of wizard crystal. He told himself they had been mad to challenge these defenses, even with the element of surprise.

  By freak chance, the panicked man cut the charging ram’s leg tendon and stabbed upward at just the right angle to inflict a slow-but-fatal wound. The death throes kept him pinned against the wood and ironically shielded him from other spirit activity for several bits to come. Gallatin clung to a slender thread of sanity by promising that he would never travel away from home again. Winemaking in the remote hill country now seemed more glamorous than at any time in history.

  Black clouds gathered over the courty
ard. Frogs rained down on the pattern at Kragen’s command, striking Tumberlin several painful blows. His defenses were weak, and his master was intent on humiliating him. Still, the son of the Imperial Ambassador to Kiateros would not yield. Every indignity in the last seven years rose up inside him like bile. He would never scrape another boat as long as he lived. If Kragen wouldn’t give him the final lesson, by the gods, Tumberlin would take it. The portly wizard took a stride toward the prize fossils in the center and brought forth rats to eat the frogs. The ki mages watched, relishing every moment. No matter who survived the duel, they could sweep in together and win control of the sept for themselves.

  Tashi crawled the length of the building, remaining silent even under the indignity of the frogs.

  Kragen brought forth cats to devour the rats almost without effort. Feeling drained by repeated summoning, Tumberlin barely managed to counter in time with the predictable dogs. The act had taken him a step away from the center, enabling his master to close the gap. Each step would now entail a strategy beyond simple attack-and-defense.

  Tashi reached the corner and could see the bell of Miracles hanging over the gate into the inner gardens.

  Probabilities all over the island were being affected by the wizards’ battle. One set of guards gambling in a corner got into a fistfight because the dice came up hexes every time. Each accused the other of cheating.

  The master’s next thrust seemed to miss, moving the lens framework several feet. As the apprentice took his next step, however, the lens focused the invisible sun’s beams that reflected off the mirrors into a tight, incandescent point. The stone in front of Tumberlin melted and his bare foot sank an inch through the molten surface. The pain was excruciating and burned him more than mere fire ever had. When he pulled his foot out, it looked like the wax puddle a candle left in the morning. Tumberlin channeled the pain into his already-summoned birds. These had been his favorite pets for so long that they were nearly solid and responded to his every thought. First, the flock knocked over the giant lens, breaking it into pieces. Then, the maddened creatures spiraled around Kragen, beating him with their wings and cruelly slashing any flesh exposed. The melted stone cooled and congealed without the continued influx of energy.

  While his master summoned predator birds to counter the flock, Tumberlin tried to take another step but fell across the pattern with a whimper. The noise of the clashing flocks was terrible. Kragen’s face now bore several bloody scratches, his hands were solid red, and both his lips and left ear had a ragged tear. The crime lord was truly angry. His bodyguard stood gripping a dart but remained unmoving. The master had not yet signaled for his interference. To act prematurely would bring his wrath upon the guard.

  For all the men present, moments stretched as life and death came down to the next few heartbeats. Tashi abandoned stealth and ran for the bell, taking the hidden item from beneath his chainmail. The smith crept to the edge of the gate. As the Imperial guard called Morlan cocked his arm back to throw his dart, a dagger sank into the base of his throat. He had time for one gasp before his air passage was flooded with his own blood. Morlan struggled in vain to burble a warning to his master as he sank to his knees and collapsed helplessly onto the stones. Perversely, the guard could see everything that happened in the next minute but couldn’t intervene.

  Tumberlin crawled desperately toward the human fossils in the center. His hand was mere inches away when his master touched the recently molten stone with a fingertip. The spark leapt and Tumberlin froze in mid-gesture. The stone his master used held both an impression and life force from the apprentice. He had insufficient willpower left to resist his master’s domination. Eventually, he would lose.

  Just then he heard a loud chime, the purest tone imaginable. Convinced that it was his soul being claimed, Tumberlin fainted. Everyone else turned to see the source. A sheriff was standing with what appeared to be a large tuning fork in his hands, banging it with all his might against the garden bell. No one present could remember it ever being rung before. Instead of fading away, the tone got progressively louder with every swing until they had to cover their ears.

  When the reverberation reached the proper intensity, all the spirit detectors in the courtyard sered, much like a piece of crystal subjected to a perfect, high-C note. The mirror shields vibrated down from their mountings and danced on the stones below. Dust leaked from the archways and the crypts groaned in resonance. In that instant, every trace of spirits on the island, every one of the fell creatures within earshot, vanished completely.

  The people around the courtyard weren’t sure in the next moment whether they had all gone deaf or the sound had stopped abruptly. The sheriff, who’d stopped striking the bell, faced the conflict and pointed at the high wizard. Two consecutive arrows sprouted from Lord Kragen’s chest and he collapsed, breaking the silence with his fall. Gallatin, still shaking from his ordeal on the bridge, had managed to avenge his brethren.

  Tashi replaced his tuning fork and slid down a drain pipe, yelling, “First battalion, smash the center stones during the calm. I don’t know how long this reprieve will last.”

  The smith, archer, and slaver all ran forward to destroy whatever they could. The sheriff drew his sword and began reciting the chant of giants as they worked. The stones, by some art of the wizards, were extremely durable. The technique that seemed to work best was for two of them to pry up a stone and have the smith smash it in the center. As the first human stone shattered, the sound reminded the smith of smashing through solid ice to fish on the northern lakes. The image was so clear that he could feel the frigid breeze. Gooseflesh rose on his arms when it dawned on the smith that he had never been that far north in his life.

  The ki mages were enraged at this destruction and ordered their gates raised. But their men had deserted during the magic battle.

  Making himself as heavy as possible, Tashi attacked another human fossil, swinging straight down with all of his mass and momentum. The fossil split but dented his miracle sword in the process. A loud crash came from the garden arch as it collapsed under the weight of centuries. Then another crash sounded from the garden. After a third crash, Tashi deduced they were spaced like footsteps. The sheriff swung again, breaking the third stone and snapping the tip of his blade. While the others were prying up their next target, a giant strode into the rubble of the garden arch.

  The fourth stone broke, along with the handle of the smith’s hammer. Tashi handed the smith the remnant of his prize blade and said, “Finish the destruction. I’ll handle our visitor.” Next, the sheriff proceeded to divest himself of all remaining weapons. The three survivors from the Brotherhood stared first at the giant and then at Tashi in undisguised awe. This man knew no fear.

  The naked giant was the height of three men. But unlike the delicate, reed-like Imperials, this giant was wide and muscular. The ki mages felt incredible waves of life energy radiating from it, more than either of them could absorb. Both wizards decided that guarding the back of the island where the escape boats were kept might be a better strategy.

  When the giant spoke, the soldiers in the courtyard quivered and sank to their knees. “Who dares call me?”

  Chapter 12 – Wrestling with Giants

  As he walked, unarmed, up the stairs toward the inner gardens, Tashi had a chance to appreciate his surroundings for the first time. The ancient architecture was simple but elegant. From this vantage, he saw that the entire island complex had been built in concentric layers around the Garden of Inner Harmony. The quiet gravity at the heart of this island was sacred and had drawn men for centuries, whether they understood it or not.

  As the sheriff approached, he noted that the giant had stopped at the collapsed threshold, venturing no further into the realm of man. Was this intentional or did some long-forgotten spell confine the guardian within these walls? The distinction might prove useful if Tashi had to leave this place in haste.

  The giant had no visible genitals, although it radiated ma
sculinity. It was also suffused with a soft, golden light. Staring up into the face of the immense guardian, Tashi said firmly, “I am the seeker.”

  The giant, bound by traditions older than the temple, nodded and announced, “A seeker hath offered himself. Doest any of ye present wish to object or offer themselves in his stead?” The language was archaic and the accent thick, but everyone seemed to understand. Even the crouched lookout seemed convinced that the giant’s eyes were boring straight through him and could read his every thought. No one interfered. “The supplicant shall follow us to the Seat of Harmony.”

  So saying, both the giant and Tashi vanished into the depths of the garden. As soon as they were out of sight, the slaver said, “It’s a good thing we got his sword, because that poor bastard’s never coming back. But if we’re going to carry that treasure out before the enemy scouts come sniffing around, we’d better get moving.”

  Gallatin went whey-faced at the thought of further combat against wizards and their hordes. “I don’t see how only three of us can carry the bell away fast enough. We don’t want to get caught. It’s a monster; there must be thirty years’ worth of coin in that thing.”

  “Fifty years,” the smith estimated. While the other men stared up at the bell in avaricious awe, he objected on different grounds. “We can’t leave him behind; we’re his allies.”

  “Not anymore. The deal is done. Payment has been made in full on both sides. Our bargain was to get him into this courtyard, go our separate ways in peace, and testify to the guild that he was dead,” Sulandhurka explained.

  The smith was not yet ready to concede. “At least we have to finish what we started, the last command he gave in exchange for his blade of honor. If we don’t destroy this wizard tool, it’ll hound our every step. Do you want to die the way that the lieutenant did?”