by Clayton Wood
A rush of wind struck Kyle from behind, so powerful that it thrust him forward into the vacuum created by the head's absence. Darius's black-clad arm shot in front of Kyle, preventing him from flying forward; the vacuum filled quickly, the violent wind reduced to a strong breeze within seconds. Kyle stared at Darius.
“What happened?” he asked. “Where did it go?”
“Storage,” Darius replied, lowering his arm. Kyle frowned, clearly quite confused. “All in good time,” Darius promised. Kyle paused, then turned to the Behemoth's massive body.
“What about...” he began, and then the massive body vanished.
Kyle felt himself lurch forward again, sucked into the vacuum left by the Behemoth's absence, but this time a shimmering blue half-sphere surrounded him – and Darius – instantly protecting them. The trees that had been near the Behemoth's fallen body flew forward violently, fifty-foot trunks ripping from the ground and flying past the tree line. A whirlwind of dust and rocks were sucked from where the Behemoth's body had laid on the open pit mine, mixing with the flying trees. The whirlwind dissipated rapidly, scattering rocks and trees across the landscape.
“Right,” Kyle mumbled. “Storage.” He stared at the huge impression the Behemoth had left in the rocky ground and the forest beyond, then turned back to Darius. “Where exactly is storage?” he asked. Then he turned about, realizing that Darius had vanished...the bodyguard was nowhere in sight! Kyle panicked, frantically searching the landscape for his friend. “Darius?” he called out.
“Same place we're going,” a voice replied from behind. Kyle jumped, spinning around and seeing Darius behind him. He stared at the bodyguard, taking an involuntary step backward.
“Wait, how...?” he asked, but Darius cut him off with a gesture.
“We're going home,” Darius declared. His visor reappeared, the open pit mine reflecting off of that mirrored surface. Kyle's eyes brightened.
“Back to Stridon?” he asked. Then he felt a surge of hope. “...or Earth?” Darius shook his head.
“Nope,” he replied. “My home.”
Chapter 16
Ariana walked to the center of Kalibar's retirement suite, Master Owens at her side. The main room of the suite had been emptied of most of its couches and tables, leaving a large expanse of granite flooring. The numerous bedrooms – including Kyle's and Ariana's – had been left untouched, but the main room had been converted into a sparring chamber. Ariana had not been allowed to leave the suite after Kyle's disappearance; the necessity of her continued training had prompted the suite's conversion. It was an ideal location for sparring, actually. The room was quite large, with high ceiling tall ceilings, and the walls and windows were protected by powerful runic wards.
Master Owens stopped Ariana, turning to her and taking a step backward. He was dressed, as per his usual, in a simple black robe. Ariana had spent the better part of the day practicing her gravity spheres and punk generation, in anticipation for her next sparring match. She'd never considered herself a very competitive person...that is, until she'd had her first sparring match. She'd never gotten to an advanced enough level to spar while in the Arena, but after her first sparring match here – which she'd won handily – she'd found her competitive juices flowing with surprising abundance. She'd won a string of victories against subsequent opponents, and was determined to win any future matches against her fellow students.
“Now,” Master Owens stated, putting a hand on Ariana's shoulder. “This next sparring match will be a bit different than the others. First, its confined to this room, limiting our mobility compared to the campus lawn.”
Ariana nodded, feeling familiar butterflies flit around in her stomach. She always got them before a match, and hated the feeling every time. She found herself bouncing on her tiptoes, and forced herself to stand still.
“Second, we're only to use four patterns,” Owens continued. “Water, gravity, fire, and punk. No other patterns are acceptable.”
“Got it,” Ariana replied. That left out the light pattern...no blinding her opponent, then. That certainly didn't bother her; as long as she got to use gravity fields, she would be okay.
“Lastly,” Master Owens stated, “...victory is determined by subduing an opponent long enough for a mortal blow to be issued...but as usual, please don't kill your opponent.” Then Master Owens gave a slight smile. “Not that I'm concerned about that in this case,” he added.
“I'm ready,” Ariana stated, finding herself bouncing on her toes again. This time, she didn't bother holding herself back. “Where's my opponent?” she added, glancing about the room.
“Your opponent,” Master Owens replied, “...is me.”
Ariana stopped cold, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck rise.
“What?” she blurted out. Master Owens was a teacher now, having retired years ago. But in his prime, he'd been a master-level Battle-Weaver, fighting in the same wars that had made Kalibar a hero. And while Owens would not be able to stand toe-to-toe with Kalibar and have any hope of winning, he was still one of the finest Weavers alive.
And, Ariana knew, Master Owens taught the most advanced Battle-Weaver classes the Secula Magna offered, personally sparring – and almost always soundly beating – the best Battle-Weavers every day. He'd taught almost all of the active Battle-Weavers in the Empire, and knew every one of them by name. It was a gift that Owens had agreed to teach Ariana and Kyle at all...a favor for Kalibar, no doubt. That was why Ariana – a future Battle-Weaver student, if she did well – was so keen on impressing the man.
“Don't worry,” Owens reassured her, his voice gentle. “I'm certainly not going to hurt you, as long as you agree to do the same.”
“Of course,” Ariana stammered. “Sorry, I just didn't expect...”
“No pressure, Ariana,” Master Owens interjected gently. “This is a learning exercise, not a test.”
“Okay,” Ariana replied, only slightly relieved. Master Owens took a few steps backward, gesturing for Ariana to do the same. After they'd put about twenty feet between them, Master Owens gestured for her to stop.
“Remember, we'll both be using only the four patterns,” he stated. “The match will be decided on how well we can use those patterns.” Ariana nodded, feeling almost sick to her stomach. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath in to center herself. Then she let it go slowly, opening her eyes.
“Ready?” Owens asked.
“Ready.”
Almost instantaneously, a ball of punk appeared in front of Master Owens, bursting into flames, then shooting outward with unnerving speed...right toward her! Ariana reacted instinctively, activating her gravity shield – which promptly vanished. She leaped to the side frantically, the projectile missing her shoulder by mere inches. She stumbled, catching her balance after a few seconds. Master Owens had attacked so quickly...and had abolished her gravity shield with a reverse-polarity field of his own. Ariana was immediately grateful that she'd kept on her toes before the match; if she'd been caught flat-footed, that would have been the end of it.
A second ball of punk appeared in front of Owens, bursting into flames and shooting toward Ariana. This time, she kept her wits about her, weaving the gravity pattern reflexively, creating a powerful pulling sphere in front of her and to the right. The projectile fell under the gravitational field's sway, arcing rightward mere feet from where Ariana stood. She poured as much magic into her magic stream as she could then, multiplying the gravitational pull of her sphere. The flaming punk tightened its arc around the sphere, swinging around and reversing direction rapidly. Ariana waited for the exact right time, then cut off the magic stream, abolishing the gravity sphere. The punk flew away from her with enormous speed – and right toward Master Owens.
It passed over his left shoulder harmlessly.
“Ambitious,” he noted approvingly. Ariana said nothing, conjuring up her own hovering ball of punk. She'd gotten faster at it since learning the sequence of patterns a few days
ago. First the gravity sphere, then create the punk in the center of it. Then set it on fire. Lastly, create a second, much more powerful gravity sphere, but this time pushing outward instead of inward. The reverse-gravity field caused the punk to shoot outward. Aiming it depended on the proper placement and strength of the reverse-gravity field – and was extraordinarily difficult.
But she'd been practicing.
Ariana's punk shot forward, slower than Master Owen's had, but her aim was true. The burning projectile flew toward her instructor's head unerringly.
Suddenly, a ball of water appeared around the punk, snuffing the flames instantly. The doused projectile veered off to the left at the last minute, missing Owen's head by a few inches, then falling to the floor in a sticky wet mess.
He didn't so much as flinch.
Ariana didn't pause, creating a second ball of punk immediately after she'd sent out the first, setting this one on fire and sending it out again. This time, Master Owens stepped to the right as it approached, dodging out of the way. Ariana immediately created a gravity sphere to the right of the punk's path, sucking the fireball to the right...and right at Owens.
“Good!” Owens exclaimed, creating a gravity sphere of his own, pulling the projectile in a quick orbit and flinging it back at Ariana. His aim was perfect, the punk flying right at her. She dodged to the left, but not quickly enough. In a last-ditch effort, she created a gravity field a few feet to her left, so powerful that it sucked her violently into it...and out of the way of her own fireball.
Until the fireball arced right into the same gravity sphere...and into her.
Ariana cried out, throwing her arms in front of her face. The gravity sphere vanished, dropping her onto her left side on the unforgiving granite below. She grabbed at her own clothes, desperately trying to brush off the burning punk from her body. She screamed then, instantly transported back to that horrifying moment only days ago, when the Dead Man had tried to burn her alive. She felt the burning in her legs, smelling the smoke as her clothes burned, her flesh blackening, then cracking, fluid spilling out from the cracks and spitting and crackling in the fire...
“Ariana!”
She stopping flailing her arms, opening her eyes. Master Owens was rushing toward her, his face filled with concern. She blinked, then looked down at herself, realizing that the punk had never even hit her. There wasn't a single mark on her.
“Ariana, are you okay?” Owens asked, stopping at her side. Ariana felt the color rise in her cheeks, and turned away, mortified.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. Master Owens dropped to one knee before her, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“What happened, Ariana?” he asked gently. “I've never seen you react that way,” he added. Ariana shook her head, fighting back sudden tears. She'd tried to forget that horrible moment – when she'd truly thought she was dying, burning alive at the hands of the man who'd burned her family – and her entire village – alive. She hadn't even thought about it until now, having buried the memory in the past with all of the other terrible things the Dead Man – and his Death Weavers – had done to her.
She hated that those memories could still make her cry...that the Dead Man could still have power over her, even after his demise.
It wasn't fair.
“Ariana?” Master Owens pressed. She sighed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, then looking up at the kindly instructor. She thought about deflecting the question, but something in Owen's eyes – his genuine concern – stopped her.
“I have a...problem with fire,” she admitted.
“I'm sorry,” Master Owens stated. “I didn't know...”
“It's okay,” she replied, standing up suddenly. Master Owens paused, then slowly got up to his own feet, his knees popping loudly. Ariana gave a weak smile. “I'll get over it,” she added.
And that much, she knew, was true. All she had to do was bury it deep enough, so that it couldn't hurt her anymore.
“Well,” Master Owens replied, returning Ariana's smile, “...you certainly did a good job today. You're ambitious, Ariana...that trick of yours, redirecting my own punk back at me...that's an advanced technique.”
“I missed,” Ariana countered. Still, she flushed with pride. She'd been practicing that ever since she'd thought of it, the day she'd been taught the gravity pattern.
“Not by much,” Owens said. “You've clearly been practicing on your own. And thinking – really thinking – about all of the possible uses of each pattern.” He smiled again, patting Ariana on the shoulder with one hand. “I'm proud of you.”
Ariana felt her cheeks burning, and she lowered her gaze. “Thank you,” she mumbled.
“Keep practicing,” Owens instructed. “And remember that gravity can work for you...and against you. Next time, keep your gravity shields up.”
“Yes sir.”
“I'd like to go another round,” Master Owens said. “...but I've got another class to teach.” He turned toward the entrance to the suite, walking to the front door and opening it. He turned around then, glancing back at Ariana. “And Ariana...”
“Yes?”
“If you ever want to talk,” he stated, “...about what happened...I'm here.”
* * *
Ariana threw herself onto her bed, pulling her sheet and blanket over her legs and up to her belly. She'd spent the better part of the evening after her sparring match taking a small coin and practicing the trick she'd tried on Master Owens earlier. She'd thrown the coin across the room with her left hand – her dominant hand – and then tried using a gravity sphere to sling it back toward her, catching it with her hand. She'd caught the coin with her face a few times as well; a poignant reminder to do as Owens had recommended, and keep her gravity shield up at all times.
She'd performed the exercise at least a hundred times, until she'd gotten so hungry that she'd summoned Jenkins. The butler had come almost immediately, bringing Ariana her favorite meal – roasted duck. She'd never even had the meal before coming to the Tower. The night after their battle with Xanos had been the first time she'd tasted it. It had been, for many reasons, the best meal she'd ever had. This time, however, it hadn't been the same. Then she'd had Kalibar, Darius, and Kyle with her, laughing and joking, enjoying each other’s company. Tonight, she'd eaten alone; Kalibar was off with Erasmus on some unknown errand, and Darius was still missing from yesterday.
And Kyle...
Ariana closed her eyes, feeling a sinking despair come over her. She'd filled the day with magic practice, so that she wouldn't have time to think about Kyle. She could still see Master Banar's lifeless body, face-down in the grass. She could only hope that Kyle hadn't suffered the same fate; the fact that Kyle's body hadn't been found with Banar's was encouraging.
Although Ariana knew all too well that death was not the worst thing that could happen to someone.
She rolled onto her side, fearing that tonight would be the same as last night...sleepless. She dreaded this, being alone with her thoughts. She couldn't help but imagine Kyle lost in some dark place, terrified and hopeless. Wondering if anyone would ever find him...if anyone was even looking. That was how she had felt, after all, after being torn from her family.
She sighed, rolling onto her other side, pulling her blankets up to her chin. She vividly remembered the first time she had met Kyle, in the classroom in the Arena. He'd been unlike any other boy she'd met there...shy, naïve, and sweet. And he'd rescued her from the Arena; even though Darius had been the mastermind, the bodyguard wouldn't have thought twice about leaving her there to rot. Kyle had vouched for her, refusing to leave if she wasn't freed as well. For that, she owed Kyle a debt she could never repay.
And if he was truly lost, or worse, then she would never even get the chance to try.
Ariana's vision blurred as tears welled up unbidden in her eyes. She blinked, the tears rolling down her cheeks. This was far worse than dying in the Arena would have been, this slow death. She'd been saved only to have her
new home – her new friends – taken from her one by one. No matter where she was, Xanos could reach her. Until the god was destroyed, she would never feel truly safe.
Ariana closed her eyes, pulling her blankets over her face. She could only hope that her utter exhaustion would force her to finally fall asleep, so that she wouldn't have to feel this pain anymore.
* * *
Kalibar sighed, stretching his neck to either side, then back, to get the kinks out of it. Then he walked across his bedroom, turning to sit on the edge of his bed. He'd been with Erasmus for most of the day – and night – in the Testing Chamber, racing to complete a prototype of the sensory rune array. They'd nicknamed the prototype “the Rune Seeker,” which seemed appropriate enough. The Rune Seeker had seemed pretty straightforward in theory, but it was hardly straightforward in practice.
First, they'd needed to find the right rune fragments to put in their sensory array. That meant writing down every possible magical pattern known, then separating those patterns into common fragments. If the fragments were too short, they'd light up whenever any pattern was woven. But if they were too long, they'd be too specific to a particular pattern, and light up only when that one pattern was woven.
Then, after creating a list of the best pattern fragments, they'd tested them to make sure they worked. Erasmus was a remarkably quick rune-linker, and had generated the first sensory array within a few hours or so. Kalibar had then woven every pattern he knew near the array, and about half had lit up the correct sensory runes.
Then it was back to the drawing board.
Ten hours later, they'd finally done it, creating a sensory array that worked. Erasmus had immediately sent for Jenkins, who'd met them in the hallway with two glasses of red wine. One toast and two empty glasses later, they'd gone back to the Testing Chamber, ready for round two – bringing in the magical creature that held the pattern they wanted to learn.
That had been...difficult.