by Clayton Wood
“Or something else,” Kalibar interjected.
“Well it certainly wasn't the wards,” Goran observed, crossing his arms over his chest. Again, Erasmus held his tongue, stopped by Kalibar's hand on his arm. Jax frowned at Goran disapprovingly.
“Those wards,” the Elder Runic retorted sternly, “...were flawless. I reviewed them myself after they were placed. No Runic in the Empire...and certainly no Weaver,” he added, giving Goran – a Weaver himself – a particularly withering look, “...could have gotten past them.”
“I would hardly characterize them as flawless,” Goran shot back, his tone deceptively mild. Then he gestured at the rest of the Council. “How many of you here would trust your lives to those wards?” The other Councilmen stirred uncomfortably in their seats, clearly disturbed by the question. The fact was, all of their rooms were protected by wards that Erasmus had devised. And by the looks of it, not a single member of the Council appeared eager to raise their hand. Another master stroke by Goran, insulting Erasmus without anyone being able to fault him for it. Still, Jax glared at the man.
“Be careful, Councilman,” Jax warned, clearly losing patience with Goran's antics. Goran uncrossed his arms, nodding almost imperceptibly at the Elder Runic. He, like the other members of the Council, deferred to Jax...at least when it came to maintaining decorum. Kyle couldn't help but feel a bit of satisfaction at watching Goran be censured. Despite having been present at several Council meetings in the two days since Kalibar had won the election, he was still shocked by the undercurrent of hostility between the Populists and the Elitists. It was a polite war, for sure, and often terribly boring to watch, but it was far from the way Kyle would have imagined an Empire would be run. It was more like a sporting event, with two teams bent on beating the other instead of doing what was best for the Empire. Luckily, while Erasmus fought back in kind, Kalibar treated each member of the Council with unflappable politeness...a quality that defused tensions more effectively than the most clever of counterattacks.
“Do keep in mind that I'm not dead,” Kalibar piped in, a bemused smile on his face. “I was protected, and I have every reason to believe that any of you would have been, too.”
“Explain yourself, Grand Weaver,” an elderly Councilman requested. Kyle recognized the man as Ibicus, the second-eldest Runic on the Council, after Jax. Ibicus had long salt-and-pepper hair, with silver eyes and a smooth-shaven face that appeared much younger than his 70-odd years. While Ibicus was an Elitist, and typically sided with Goran, he did not engage in Goran's style of politicking. Indeed, Ibicus hardly said anything at all during Council meetings; when he did speak, everyone listened.
Kalibar turned his head toward Ibicus; the act gave the disturbing illusion that the Grand Weaver could still see.
“Xanos was almost certainly involved in this assassination attempt,” he replied. “...and this isn't the first time we've been protected from his magic.”
The Councilmen murmured to each other, nodding in agreement. Kyle knew that they were all thinking back to when Xanos had nearly killed them all, cutting them down with a whirlwind of razor-sharp pieces of glass. Yet no one had suffered more than minor injuries from the ordeal, and Xanos had been defeated...if only temporarily. Everyone believed that Kyle's ring was responsible for protecting them. Kyle knew better, but he'd been forbidden from telling anyone the truth.
“An interesting theory,” Goran conceded, “...but forgive me if I have reservations about trusting my life...and the lives of my fellow Councilmen...to Kyle's ring.” Then he turned to Kyle. “Please understand that I'm grateful to you,” he stated rather hurriedly. Everyone had treated Kyle remarkably well since the attack a week ago. No one understood how Kyle's ring worked, but everyone knew about the tests on the prisoners who'd worn the ring. The powerful artifact only seemed to work when Kyle was wearing it...and only protected those that were on Kyle's side. It was ironic that Goran, so ready to dismiss Kyle's ring, was as yet unwilling to cross it.
“We must deal in realities,” Kalibar declared. “We would already be dead if it weren't for Kyle, so we must accept that his ring has protected us. I for one am grateful...no more so than today,” he added. “In any case, we can review proposed security measures after this meeting. Unless anyone has anything else to add, I suggest that we move on to the debriefing regarding Crescent Lake.”
“Agreed,” Jax said. “Councilman Goran?” Goran nodded grudgingly. Jax turned to Kalibar. “You have the floor, Grand Weaver.” Kalibar stood then, facing the Council with his double-eyepatches. Once again, Kyle nearly fell for the illusion that Kalibar could still see.
“My Battle-Weavers returned from the Arena last night,” he stated. “They suffered no casualties,” he added. “But not on account of their skill. When they arrived at the foot of the cave entrance to the enemy base, it was unguarded. They found dead bodies everywhere, soldiers and Death Weavers.” Kalibar paused, taking a sip from a glass of water on the table, then continued.
“The Battle-Weavers made their way down the tunnels into the Arena itself. They found more bodies...hundreds of them. The Arena itself was deserted.”
“So everyone had been killed?” Councilwoman Hess asked.
“Not quite,” Kalibar replied grimly. “When my Battle-Weavers searched the dormitories in the Arena, they found dozens of children hiding in the classrooms. They were terrified...they didn't even put up a fight, even though many were Weavers. They were relieved to see us.”
“Where are these children now?” Goran asked.
“We've detained them,” Kalibar answered. “They're being kept in the maximum-security wing of Stridon Penitentiary. We're treating them well, of course. They're being questioned at this very moment.”
“Excellent,” Goran stated. “The information they provide may be critical in winning this war.”
“I will keep the Council informed, of course,” Kalibar promised.
“So what happened to all of the Death Weavers?” another Councilman inquired.
“When we asked the children,” Kalibar answered, “...they said that someone – or something – came for them in the middle of the night. All of the lights in the Arena went out at once...and anyone who tried to weave the light pattern found that it wouldn't work. They were thrust into complete darkness. Panicking, the children made their way blindly into the dormitories. One by one, they heard the screams of the Death Weavers. The students were led into a few classrooms by their teachers, and huddled there in the absolute darkness. Then they heard their teachers scream, and fall to the floor. Every child sat there, terrified, thinking that they would be next.”
“What happened?” Jax pressed.
“Nothing,” Kalibar replied. “Eventually, one of the children tried to weave the light pattern...but this time it worked. When their classroom lit up, they found their teachers lying on the floor, dead.”
“Dear god,” Jax exclaimed.
“They'd all been killed,” Kalibar explained. “Every last Death Weaver. The children had been spared, for what reason I can only guess at.”
“But who would do such a thing?” Councilman Goran wondered. “We're the only ones who knew where the Arena was!” Then he frowned. “Unless you're suggesting that Xanos had his men killed?”
“Not at all,” Kalibar replied. “It wouldn't make any sense for Xanos to kill off his own army, unless it was a punishment for allowing us to escape. Even then, why would he let the children live? They'd been left alone in those dormitories for days by the time we'd found them.”
“So who then?” Jax asked. Kalibar shrugged.
“I have no idea,” he admitted. “But if it wasn't sanctioned by Xanos, it means that we may have an ally in this war.”
“Let's not get presumptuous,” Goran grumbled. “We can't keep relying on mysterious allies – and rings – to save us,” he added. “We need to concentrate on doing what we can do...starting with interrogating those children. The information we extract from them migh
t be vital to the survival of the Empire.”
“Don't forget that we have one of those children in this room,” Erasmus countered, turning to the side to gesture at Ariana. Everyone at the table turned to look at her. While Kyle would have shrunk down in his seat at the attention, Ariana faced the Councilmen bravely, sitting tall in her chair. Erasmus smiled at Ariana. “She has been remarkably cooperative with us, and she's already made it known that the Dead Man kept his secrets...and Xanos's secrets...to himself. I myself doubt that these children will be as critical as you imagine, Goran.”
“Perhaps,” Goran retorted. “But remember that Ariana was an outsider...the other children shunned her for it. They may have kept information from her, information that could potentially save millions of lives.” He shook his head. “Allowing this civilization to crumble for the sake of a few children is a far greater evil than any cruelty suffered at the hands of an interrogator.”
“They will be questioned, Councilman,” Kalibar stated, “...but it will be done humanely,” he added firmly. “I will not compromise the ethics of the Empire by torturing children.” Kyle glanced at Ariana, and saw her smile. She'd hated the Dead Man for torching her village and killing her parents and friends. How would she have felt if Kalibar had condoned torturing those children? After all, if she hadn't been rescued, she would've been one of them.
“Of course,” Councilman Ibicus piped in. “The children will be handled with dignity. I believe Councilman Goran was simply expressing the urgency of the situation,” he added, his silver eyes locking on Goran's. Goran paused, then nodded.
“I think everyone is in agreement,” Jax declared. “Grand Weaver, thank you for your report. We look forward to the results of these interrogations. In the meantime, we have a third item in the agenda for today's meeting...his excellency the Grand Weaver's proposal for the consolidation of our legions. Councilman Goran, I believe you had some concerns about this?”
Kyle groaned, realizing that the meeting was about to become painfully boring...and that it wouldn't end anytime soon. He was suddenly desperate to get out of there while he still had the chance. He glanced at Ariana, who in turn gave Darius a pleading look. The dour bodyguard smirked, but stood, gesturing for the two to follow him as he made his way through the door. Darius led them down the hallway, back toward Kalibar's suite. When they'd made it through Kalibar's front door, Kyle let out a sigh.
“Thanks, Darius,” he said. “We would've died if we'd had to stay for that!” The bodyguard shut the door behind him, then glanced across Kalibar's huge living room, toward the Grand Weaver's bedroom. The door to the bedroom was open, and Kyle could see the motionless body of the assassin still lying on the ground.
“Don't get your hopes up,” Darius grumbled.
* * *
After a long while, the meeting adjourned, and Kalibar and Erasmus joined Kyle, Ariana, and Darius in Kalibar's chambers. Kyle was glad to see Kalibar; ever since the old man had won the election, he'd been too busy to spend much time with his adopted children. Kyle missed the old days, when Kalibar had all the time in the world to spend with him. Of course, that had also been when they'd been imprisoned, tortured, and nearly killed, but still, the moments of peace they'd had before all that had been some of the best days of Kyle's life.
Erasmus didn't seem at all pleased with how the rest of the meeting had gone. He stormed into the room, then began to pace in front of Kyle and Ariana, who were sitting on one of the couches in the corner.
“Obstructionist pigs!” he spat. “Even in the middle of a war, they can't stop with their political bull-”
“Ahem,” Kalibar interjected. Erasmus glanced at Kyle and Ariana, then sighed.
“Sometimes I just want to put my thumbs right over Goran's eyes, and just push, just to see what sounds he'd make,” Erasmus grumbled.
“You fall right into his traps every time,” Kalibar observed, although not unkindly. Erasmus shrugged helplessly.
“I can't help it,” he complained, staring down at his thumbs and making wiggling motions with them. “I swear, the bastard makes me ashamed to be an Elitist!”
“I know, old friend,” Kalibar replied. “But in the end, it doesn't matter. Goran and the rest of the Elitists don't have a majority vote for the Council. With half the Council on our side, and Jax's tiebreaker vote, we have enough support to get a majority when we need it.” And this was true; Kyle didn't understand much of what went on with the Council, but with each member having one vote, and Kalibar and Erasmus having six of the twelve on their side, voting almost always split 6-6. Since Jax was Elder Runic, he had a tiebreaker vote...and usually won them the day.
“The bastard had the gall to accuse me of deactivating your wards to let the assassin in!” Erasmus complained. Kalibar smirked.
“He insinuated,” he corrected. “And you know as well as I do that no one in the Council took that comment seriously.”
“Maybe I should change up his wards,” Erasmus grumbled, “...so that they fry him when he walks into his bedroom.” Still, the Grand Runic stopped pacing, and sat on the couch next to Kyle and Ariana. Kalibar sat on the couch opposite them.
“In any case,” Kalibar stated, his eyepatches pointing right at Ariana and Kyle, “I have some news for you two.” Kyle and Ariana stole a glance at each other, then turned back to face Kalibar.
“What kind of news?” Ariana asked, her voice wary. Kalibar smiled.
“I talked to Master Owens yesterday,” he replied. “He was very impressed with your progress...both of you,” he added. Kyle felt his cheeks burning, and stared down at his feet. Master Owens had seemed far from impressed when he'd spoken to Kyle earlier that morning. Luckily Kalibar couldn't notice Kyle's chagrin. “Master Owens was particularly pleased with your performance during your sparring match yesterday, Ariana.”
This time, it was Ariana's turn to blush. She'd had a sparring match with one of the other Weaver students the other night, and had beaten her opponent handily. When the student had shot a flaming ball of punk at her, she'd made a big gravity sphere behind the student. The sphere had sucked air into itself so powerfully that her enemy had been sucked back into it as well...along with his flaming punk. Luckily, Ariana had woven the water pattern soon after, dousing the flames even before Master Owens could stop the sparring match. It had been an impressive display of strategy...much more impressive than Kyle's match before that. Sure, he'd won handily...but only by virtue of his sheer magical power, not by dint of cleverness.
“Thank you,” Ariana replied. Kalibar smiled.
“Thank Master Owens,” he countered. “After all, he's the one who recommended that I grant you a waiver to start your specialty training earlier than the mandatory age.”
“Specialty training?” Ariana asked.
“Battle-Weaving,” Kalibar clarified. Ariana's jaw dropped open.
“Really?” she breathed. Battle-Weaving was a highly sought-after specialty, one that most Weaver students desperately hoped to get into. It took perfect grades – and a great deal of luck – to be accepted into the program. And no one was accepted until they turned 18.
“Master Owens agreed to be your personal instructor until you graduate,” Kalibar explained. “Your training will be intense – all day long, instead of four hours a day. With such an accelerated course, you might graduate in a few years...and be able to start your Battle-Weaver training before you turn eighteen.”
Ariana cheered, then ran into Kalibar's arms, giving the old Weaver a big hug. Kalibar laughed, embracing her back, then gently pushing her away.
“It won't be easy,” he warned.
“I learned under the Dead Man,” Ariana countered. Kalibar chuckled.
“You've got me there,” he admitted. Then he stood up from the couch. “Now, I'm afraid I have to ask you all to leave,” he added. “Except for you, Kyle...and you, Erasmus.” Darius and Ariana stood up – Ariana giving Kalibar one last enthusiastic hug – and then they both filed out of Kaliba
r's suite, leaving Kyle alone with the Grand Weaver and Runic. Kyle had remained seated, as had Erasmus. Kalibar joined them, sitting down beside Erasmus. He faced Kyle, his expression difficult to read. Kyle squirmed under that eyeless gaze, dropping his own eyes to the floor.
“Kyle,” Kalibar began, then paused for a moment. His tone was far from jovial. Erasmus rolled his eyes.
“Oh, cut the crap, Kalibar!” the Grand Runic snorted. He shuffled up next to Kyle on the couch, throwing an arm around Kyle's shoulders. Kyle's back, which had been cut through to the bone a few weeks ago, still ached a little with the impact. “The greatest day of my life, and you're acting like someone died!”
“Erasmus,” Kalibar began.
“Oh, don't you ruin this for me,” Erasmus interrupted, wagging one finger at Kalibar...which of course Kalibar couldn't see. “It's about time we had a talent like Kyle in our ranks,” he added, throwing Kalibar a dirty look. “Your wartime heroics sent two generations of young talent straight into Weaving. Kyle's the finest recruit we've had in two thousand years...and I won't have you convincing him otherwise!”
“I was just trying to comfort my son,” Kalibar protested. “Are you okay, Kyle?” he asked. Kyle nodded, then blushed...once again, he'd forgotten that Kalibar was blind.
“I'm okay,” Kyle replied. And it was true...after talking with Ariana, and with Erasmus so excited to have him on board, he felt a tad better about his sudden career change. He'd much rather be a Weaver, but he wasn't completely devastated anymore.
“Good,” Kalibar replied. “I still don't necessarily agree with Master Owens,” he added. “I do think you'd make a fine Weaver...an exceptional one, in fact. But you may find being a Runic more to your liking. It's worth trying.”
“And I have just the teacher for you,” Erasmus stated. “One of my former students, in fact,” he added proudly. “His name is Master Banar...and I have a feeling you two are going to get along just fine.”
Kyle smiled at Erasmus, but didn't say anything. He really had hoped to become a Weaver, flying through the air and throwing fireballs at his enemies. But who said he couldn't still learn that stuff anyway? After all, he was really good at memorizing patterns...and he was pretty sure that Ariana wouldn't mind teaching him if he asked. He could be a Runic first...and a Weaver in secret. Only he and Ariana would know.