Knights of the Inner Rim (Beyond the Outer Rim Book 0)

by Reiter

  With a withering measure of disgust, Kantren put his eyes back to the mists. Confusion from a student was allowed and, in many cases, expected. There were times he thought his Mistress even enjoyed it. Failure to follow a simple directive, however, was unacceptable. The Powerkin felt he would prefer to be oblivious to the reasons explaining Lady Lirtelzi’s sudden happiness than chance giving a report of failure in witnessing the outcome of time and incident regarding the stones.

  “One stone is presented to the... Light Mage,” he muttered, quivering in antipathy. “How I would love to show him the light of real MajiK! How were we ever expelled by these insipid fools?!

  “And what is this?” Kantren whispered, taking his seat. The image within the mists faded from an award ceremony where a battle wand was being given to the Light Mage who had overseen the aged artisan’s cut.

  The next forming picture opened on another craftsman; not as old as the first and certainly not nearly as gifted. “Hrmph, a Witch!” Kantren commented. “And from the looks of it, her signatory fires burn black as pitch. What are you doing, Black Witch?” He watched as the young woman toiled over the second of the three larger stones. Extending his hand toward the mists, he received a marking for the time. “And this was seven years ago. A Witch who is trying to pass herself off as a SorceresS is mounting the stone to a... to a bracer?! And just when I was ready to commit all Terrans to being useless, this one has to go and be inventive. I wonder if she knows what she is truly doing. That bracer already has an aura of purpose to it. Hmmm. Inventive, but still blind... fumbling about with a power she cannot hope to comprehend.”

  It was with some objection that Kantren saw the mists change yet again and he picked up his glass to sip some of the sweet wine he had made. He was swallowing, savoring the rich flavor, when the mists focused on the fragments which had made their way to a shop some six years after they had been separated from the original stone. The fragments, still a very dark garnet, had been worked into a heavily beaded necklace which was purchased and – as the image shifted once more – worn by a woman who was performing some sort of ceremonial dance. She was barefoot, wearing very colorful clothing and scarves... with some sort of cymbals in her hands.

  “I believe those are taal... or is the word zill?” he muttered before catching himself. “Not that my attention needs to be on the musical instruments! She does dance very well though. Old Earth cultural rituals; they are the last haven for Terran sophistication.

  “And for some reason the mists revealed the shop as well as the owner of the necklace. The shop is somehow significant... tied to the woman somehow. Whatever it is, it was not strong enough to register fully to the mists.

  “Perhaps it was something that could partially hide itself from the mists,” Kantren thought, putting his hand to his chin. “The Mistress should be informed of this. She might be able to draw a better conclusion.

  “Yes,” Kantren said with some relief, reaching for the bottle to pour more wine. “... finally, the last stone.” Slightly removed from the viewing, Kantren waved his hand again to get the time-marker for the moment while he poured his wine. “Six years ago as well.” He put down the bottle, picked up his glass and lifted his head to view into the mists. “... and we’re back with the Enacranites. Oh, how wonderful! I think I am beginning to see why our masters did away with television. This programming is simply horrific!

  “And it would appear that one solitary SpellCasteR is perusing the items of the vault and he... seems to be taking notice... of the last stone.”

  Kantren put his glass down as he observed a short, clean-shaven man use forceps to take hold of the last of the three large stones.

  “Something is not right here,” the fair-haired young man had said as he examined the stone. “The aura of light is not pure... and by all means and measures it should be. This stone has been tainted. I wonder... are you the reason why my detection incantation burns in a warning color? We shall simply have to see.”

  Kantren stood up as the image changed to that of a laboratory, and the Vythe Powerkin quickly recognized the particular spell that held the stone above a work table. It was more than a spell that allowed the stone to hover, it was a powerful mechanism of entrapment as well. If something was being contained inside the stone, it stood little chance of escaping the sphere of light surrounding the stone.

  The SpellCasteR looked to be preparing the tools necessary to shatter the stone, and Kantren was growing more and more nervous. There was a knock at the door and Kantren could not tell if it was something coming from the mists or the door of his Mistress’ viewing chamber. Fortunately, when he heard the SpellCasteR respond to the sound he knew from where it had originated.

  The young man walked quickly to the doors of his lab and opened the door. He looked out into the corridor and sighed, withdrawing from the open door and sighing. “Vura, what are you doing here?”

  A woman stepped into the room, scantily clad and certainly of the form to draw a Terran man’s attention... or at least his eye. Her long red hair had a streak of bright orange that matched her eyebrows.

  “Vohlbred,” Kantren estimated. “And quite comely.”

  “How can you ask me such a question after the last occasion when we were in each other’s company?” the woman asked, the sound of her voice feeling like warm silk sweeping over Kantren’s mind. “I never said I was so disciplined that I was above being greedy.”

  “Neither did I,” the SpellCasteR replied with an air of confidence in his voice as the woman approached. “But to all things there is a priority.”

  “And what priority do you give your passions?” Vura asked before she took hold of the man’s face, pressing her lips to his. The man seemed to protest the intrusion, but he soon moved to hold the woman closer as their kiss turned more passionate. When she lifted her leg to wrap around his body, the man moaned and abruptly pulled his mouth away from hers.

  “Vura, I can’t,” he said, breathing deeply and stepping away from the woman.

  “I could,” Kantren muttered as he watched with intense focus.

  “Your body would have me believe otherwise,” the woman cooed, taking a very slow step forward.

  The man nodded, but held out his hands to maintain distance between them. “Yes, of course, I can... just not at the moment. This work is pressing! I think I might have uncovered a breach into the Enacranite stronghold.”

  “A what?!” the woman gasped. “Show me!”

  The man turned to move toward his desk and the door to his laboratory opened. There was no sound coming from it, and Kantren wondered if the woman had closed it fully. Two men walked in and the SpellCasteR immediately noticed them. They were dressed in gray robes and simple affectations. The SpellCasteR’s back was to them when they entered, but still he had felt their approach.

  “Who are you?” the young man demanded as his eyes began to glow with raw MannA. “What are you doing here?”

  “Did you release a Seeker Spell inside this stronghold?!” the tone of the man’s voice was rife with authority and anger. The SpellCasteR immediately released his threshold, beginning to stammer. He stepped toward the robed men, gesticulating his explanation as he tried to find the right words. Passing by Vura, he was blind to her strike to the back of his head. The SpellCasteR was stunned, but his left hand still reached out. A glowing green gem shot from the shelf on the far side of the room, but it was intercepted by Vura’s hand. Energy was released into her body and she closed her eyes, smiling at the attempt the gem made to free itself from her grasp.

  “It is a simple repulsion spell,” she explained. “Take him down the Southwest stairway. Several... friends of mine are already waiting. If he stirs before you reach them, strike him... do not kill him; there are contingencies in place for that. Now go!”

  Vura turned to face the stone and directed a powerful Dispeller Charm that freed the stone, allowing it to fall into her hand next to the green gem she had caught. Closing her fist around both gems,
the woman’s form blended into black smoke and folded in on itself, fading from sight.

  The next image was dimly lit. It was some sort of temple, but Kantren could not see clearly enough to mark the culture. Black smoke burst out in the center of the room. Vura stepped out of the cloud toward one wall where there were carvings and pictures. With a wave of her hand she altered some of the carvings... and these markings Kantren could recognize because they were from one of the three languages the Vythe used.

  Combining the two stones, Vura placed them into the wall and a picture formed around the stone. It was a depiction of a man, holding a large and powerful sphere of light. The stone Vura had just made was in the center of that sphere.

  “Yes,” Vura whispered. “We shall let this marinate a while. Let the flavors of the power feeding it take root and intensify. It is done, Mistress!” The woman faded from sight as the scrying mists turned back to gray.

  Kantren picked up his glass and downed all of the wine he had poured. He then looked at the empty glass and resolved he needed something stronger.

  Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.

  Buddha

  (Rims Time: XI-4804.16)

  It was always something of an event: Big Sunday breakfast amongst the carnies. Big Sunday was always the Sunday near the middle of the month where the carnies, if they were able, took the time to come together, break bread, check in with Travis, and share what the world had meant and/or brought to them.

  Since they had been asked to move into the former residence of Vaiyorl Jhormynn, a few things had changed. Knowing a True Lord of course had its perks... knowing one who had become a Duke by his own hand was an even greater advantage. The carnival had become part of the community’s scheduled events, coinciding with the Summer Festival. It would not be long before the young people would start coming around to see if they could get jobs handling the crowds or helping with the shows.

  Travis and Gwendolyn made their way to the table, the latter helping the former as he seemed to be slightly inebriated. Once again, everything had been set up outside and there were over fifty people seated and waiting for the food to arrive. They cheered when they saw Travis, and their elation made the blind man smile along with them.

  “We’ve got incoming,” Thomas Jeffries announced. He was deaf much in the same way that Travis was blind, and just like his fellow Ardrian Marine, a trade had been made and in return for his loss of hearing Thomas was incredibly sensitive to vibrations. He could not hear the transport ship, but he could feel it. “Primuson Transport, Cutter Class... the portside stabilizer could use some realignment.”

  “And you’re not surprised,” Gwendolyn said to Travis. His head turned in her direction and he smiled, holding up his glass. “So, who’s coming?”

  “I don’t know,” Travis answered. “Why don’t you ask one of the other Monkeys, dear?”

  For many, the blind man’s tone was off-putting and often hurtful, but Gwendolyn received it with a smile that did not lessen as she caressed Travis’ hand. She did, however, look over at Thomas. Her blue eyes gazed into his brown and she did not have to repeat the question.

  Extending his hands out in front of him, Thomas’ fingertips danced on the air as his hands slowly moved apart. His eyes closed as his head turned to the right. A transport ship flew overhead, coming from the direction he had turned to face.

  “I count seven aboard, including the pilot,” he reported. Taking another feel of the ship and its interior, the man frowned before staggering back a step in shock.

  “Thomas!” one young carnie yelled, quickly getting up out of his seat, running over to the older man. He stopped short of touching him, knowing what that might do to both of them. “Are you alright?”

  “Just a little surprised,” Thomas answered. “Wasn’t expecting to feel Boris.”

  “Boris is back?!” a young female carnie shrieked, getting up out of her seat.

  “Yes, he is... and he brought someone with him that I recognize. It’s Valian!”

  “What?!” several people asked.

  “Yes, that Valian. The son of Eagle and Link!”

  Shouts and screams of joy erupted from the table as the crowd ran to meet the transport. Several people remained at the table. The third of the Three Monkeys, Tacita Julius, was the only one who kept her head down. She did not say anything... she could not... or rather, it was in everyone’s interest that she not try. The resident fire-eater just shook her head, accepting the fact that the inevitable had finally caught up with them.

  “Just like Travis saw it,” she thought. “We’re old, but we don’t feel it. Link and Eagle paid the price eight years ago, and even then we were ten years into our ‘extension’. It’s funny... when you’re dealing death, you expect one of those cards to come back and bite you in the ass. When the living’s good, the end of that life is the last thing on your mind. Oh well... such is life!”

  “You okay down there, TJ?” Thomas asked.

  She nodded before making the sign for, “Just coming to terms with what this means.”

  “Copy that,” Thomas replied, slowly getting up from his chair. “But this objective ain’t going to come to us.”

  The carnies ran to the transport, filled with anticipation and elation. They came away from the reception slightly disappointed.

  Boris, as expected, was a delight to embrace once more. The son of Kolinkar and Arva Styrke, however, was found to be unconscious along with his two friends. As many volunteered to help carry their bodies into the house, Travis made his way to Ulreejun.

  “You drugged them?” he asked the Praeceptor.

  “You have your ways of getting around your vision, and I have mine.”

  “Effective,” Travis remarked. “I have the perfect room to put them.”

  “We’ll have to get them changed first.

  “Of course,” Travis agreed. “Let Gwendolyn and Tacita see to that.”

  Valian’s eyes opened slowly... his consciousness was being summoned from a very deep sleep. He felt completely rested with not even twinges of the pains Shonsatah had delivered to him registering. He frowned, realizing that he was not aboard the transport... and it did not sound or feel as if he was in motion of any kind.

  “Well there he is,” Kethgeegan said, approaching the side of the hospital bed. “You snore!”

  Valian slowly brought his head up and looked around the room. It was sparse. Only the three beds – Annodia was still asleep in hers – and lights. From the sounds of things, there were probably sensors of some sort inside the lights. “What are you wearing?” Valian asked, looking at the neck-to-toe bodysuit Kethgeegan had on. It was black and form-fitting.

  “Same thing you’re wearing,” Kethgeegan notified. Valian pulled the sheet back and saw that he was indeed in the same clothing.

  “Which means you checked us both,” Valian said, grinning at his friend.

  “Hey, after that kiss, everything changed!”

  “I’m inclined to agree with you.”

  “Like I said, I still have you,” Annodia said, sitting up in her bed. “... both of you!”

  Valian laughed as he got out of bed.

  “I wouldn’t bother,” Kethgeegan stated. “I already tried the door. They’ve got us locked up pretty good.

  “Master,” Valian called out. “We’re all awake. Can we proceed, please?”

  The door to the small circular room unlocked and opened. Valian turned and smiled at Kethgeegan.

  “Anytime you want to admit how much you’re impressed with me, I’m open to receive it.”

  Kethgeegan shook his head as he walked out of the room. “Just between us, that face doesn’t work on you.”

  “It doesn’t?”

  “It really doesn’t” Annodia asserted.

  “Consider it gone then,” Valian concluded, being the last one to leave the room.

  “That said... it was very impressive!” Annodia softly added.

 
“Come ahead, Phyti,” Ulreejun called from down the corridor. “We have much to do and very little time given to us.”

  “Why do you suppose that is?” Kethgeegan asked. “Why is it that the heroes never have as much time as they want?”

  “Because then we wouldn’t be heroes,” Annodia replied. “We’d be stuffy, old lords and ladies with so much power that we would forget what it is to even be mortal.”

  “Interesting perspective,” Valian noted.

  The three entered another circular room, but one that was very much larger than where they had awakened. Seated at a long rectangular table in the middle of the room were two men; Valian recognized them both. Jorkethian sat leaned back in his chair, and there was a sharpness to his eyes that Valian had never before seen. But then there was the man petting Boris.

  “Travis!” Valian nearly screamed as he ran around his friends and the end of the table.

  “Incoming,” Jorkethian warned.

  “Oh, I could tell,” Travis Child responded, getting up from his chair in time to receive the charging embrace. He knew he should not have been, but the combination of the boy’s strength and the clean expression of his emotions surprised the blind man and he struggled to keep from crying. “I missed you too.”

  “Forgive me,” Valian said, stepping away from Travis, turning to look at his friends. “Annodia, Kethgeegan, this is Travis Child... the man in charge of the carnival that I told you about. Uncle Travis, allow me to present my friends, Annodia Gabbanior and Kethgeegan Arator.”

  Kethgeegan’s eye shot over to Valian at hearing a name that was not his. He then looked at Travis who chuckled with a bright smile as he leaned over the table, offering his hand to Annodia.

  “Well met, young lady,” Travis said and Annodia’s eyes squinted.

  “How did you know which one was...”

  “Valian, I thought you said you told them about me.”

  “I did. Apparently not all of my story was believed.”

  “Oh, I believed you,” Annodia argued before lunging at the table and picking up a piece of fruit.