“Are you OK, Eilidh?” Toli asked, concerned.
Ignoringthe question, she said, “Listen, all of you. We need some of that vine.”
“’Ave you lost your mind?” Jayne demanded.
“Have ye forgotten what happened to ye last time, lass?” Granite wondered.
“What's wrong now, Eilidh?” Toli asked. Eilidh stared at them as if from the other side of a great chasm. In her mind, she was already three steps ahead, and they were asking yesterday's questions. She supposed this was one of the things that helped to make her unpopular at the church school. People thought she was showing off, but she wasn't. They thought she was condescending towards those who couldn't keep up with her reasoning, but that wasn't true, either. It was just that she got terribly frustrated having to go backwards, trying to explain things, when she wanted to be moving forwards in her own understanding. She didn't even consider herself to be amazingly intelligent. She worked hard, studied hard, socialised little, but above all she liked to think. Thinking was so important, but it was an effort that all too many people refused to make.
You don't have to have a record level IQ, she would often tell people. Just use your head!
Taking a few deep breaths, she forced herself to explain her thoughts, focussing on Tolbrietta, who she felt had a lot of activity in her head, if only she could make it all go in the same direction.
“Tell me, Toli,” she began. “What did the Wise One ask us to do?”
“Well, he said we should travel here, locate the ancient temple and br-” Eilidh cut her off. “Let's just deal with that bit first. He said we should `Locate the ancient temple`, yes?”
“Yes,” Toli agreed.
“Toli, he said `Locate`,” she emphasised the word, “`the ancient temple`. He didn't say we were supposed to go inside!”
The dwarf snorted. “That's just quibbling over semantics.”
“Words are important, Granite,” Eilidh admonished him. “He said as much himself when I wasn't precise with my questions.”
The dwarf wasn't convinced, but she continued anyway.
“What was the next part of our quest?”
Toli answered, “We were to `bring back the Great Key`. `Locate the ancient temple and being back the Great Key`. That's what he said.”
“What if he didn't say that?” Eilidh suggested.
In response to her friends' puzzled looks, she picked up a dead branch and just as Kismet had done, many moons and many miles from their current time and place, wrote in the soil:
K E Y
K I J
“What if he said `Bring back the Great Kij?” she concluded. Toli gasped in understanding. “Before we left the Wise One's hut,” she said, “the Wise One was drinking herbal tea made from the leaves of a Kij vine.” She frowned. “You don't think he sent us all this way just for more tea, do you?”
Eilidh growled. “That’s what’s got me so angry – the idea that he just might!” Forcing herself to calm down, shecontinued, “Trouble is, now that I’ve thought of the possibility, I can’t just ignore it, because for all I know, the Kij vines might be important, somehow. If Rochelle were here, I'm sure she'd remind us that anything that has medicinal properties can usually be used as a poison, and a herbal restorative could even be a weapon. I’m not saying I know what the Wise One has in mind, but there could be any number of reasons that don’t involve tea. I can’t afford to overlook anything, no matter how trivial itmight seem.”
“Remember all those warnings, too,” Toli added. “They said we should turn back because death waited there – and it did – although undeath might have been more strictly accurate. If that bit was true, maybe the `this is meaningless` part was also true. If so, did we just waste our time?”
“If we did, he’s going tae be in a lot of trouble when I see him again!” Granite threatened.
Eilidh answered, “I know how you feel, but it was my choice to go in there, and my fault if I got it wrong. Right or wrong, done is done, and we certainly accomplished something in there.” Jayne was completely dumbstruck, not knowing what to say. “Now, according to Kismet,” Eilidh said, “the key with Kij vines - if you'll pardon the pun - is to chop off its head before it knows what hit it. Then you can harvest the leaves and vine stem in complete safety.”
“Lucky he told us that,” Toli remarked. “We wouldn’t want a repeat of last time, would we?”
Eilidh blinked and agreed. “No, you’re right, it is lucky...” She hadn't considered that. Shaking her head clear, she returned to the task at hand.
“Your axe looks just about right for this job,” she suggested to the dwarf, so how do you feel about a spot of gardening?”
“Frankly,” he said, “I still think yer over analysing, but it cannae do any harm, so sure, why not?” With that, he stomped off to see to the job.
Jayne Corr offered to lend a hand.
When they were out of earshot, Toli spoke quietly to Eilidh. “You realise, don't you, that right or wrong, we let Niltsiar's agents into that temple and practically issued invitations.”
“Yes,” Eilidh replied, darkly.
“...And now Niltsiar has the Great Key from inside that temple, with who knows what powers?”
“Yes,” Eilidh repeated.
Toli sighed deeply and then there was a long silence, in which each was lost in her own thoughts until the others returned with bag full of Great Kij vine cuttings. “You know, Eilidh,” Toli offered. “All this business with kijs and keys makes me think of Kismet. I miss him, I really do. And I wish he was here; I could just use one of his outrageous stories or silly jokes right about now.”
“Me, too,” Eilidh agreed, solemnly.
Without warning, then, Granite Longbeard looked them up and down and said, “Egad! Didn't yer mothers ever tell ye? If the wind changes, yer faces will stick in those ghastly expressions!”
Frowns turned to half smiles and incredulous looks. “What?” demanded the dwarf. “I'm a bard, remember? I'm supposed to be cheerin' everyone up! Alas, though,” he concluded, raising his index finger for emphasis, “I donnae have an orange hanky to wave around.”
Eilidh and Toli burst into laughter at the mental imagery. Even Jayne, who had never met Kismet, joined in the much-needed release of tension, as the four of them entered the Corridor, blissfully unaware that they were being watched...
...”Egad!” exclaimed the hidden figure when they had gone. “Now I've got a dwarf doing impressions of me! Still, they do say imitation is the highest form of flattery.”
With that, the figure vanished, intent on a new destination.
* * * * * The Wise One displayed no surprise at the appearance of his guest. Indeed, he reflected, for all he knew, his visitor might have been present for a long time in one form or another. He didn't think so, though. At the moment, he appeared to be a man of indeterminate age, neither young nor old, but both and neither. His choice of clothing was colourful to say the least. Garishly colourful. It seemed to be his favourite form from an apparently infinite number of possibilities. The Wise One offered his visitor some tea, but he declined the offer.
“Egad! That was quite the little stunt you pulled there, wasn't it, old friend?” The visitor said, clutching a bright orange silk hanky close to his face, in the foppish manner of gentlemen of an age even the Knights would consider archaic. “Are you sure it was, well, wise?”
The Wise One shrugged. “It seemed a necessary step. It served as a test, an education and our friend’s little gift to our enemy might just give her pause for a moment.”
“You also stirred up some considerable magic and people are going to notice. In fact, I can think of at least one person who’s going to get quite a shock when what you created hits them.”
“I created nothing,” disputed the Wise One. “Merely restored. And anyway, who are you to criticise my methods? You had your chance to guide them and you `died`, remember?”
Kismet sulked. “After that little stunt,” continued the Wi
se One, “you just had him and me. And now he's gone and revealed too much of himself, so I'm all they've got left. At least I have the good sense to restrict myself to a cameo role. Strictly an advisor, nothing more, and definitely not...involved.”
Kismet snorted. “Not involved? Not directly, maybe. But you're still pulling strings from a distance. Egad! Suppose she traces those strings back to you?”
“That is not possible, even for her, not unless she's a lot more powerful and skilled than we give her credit for.”
“And if she is?” The Wise One shrugged, sagely. “Then we need to know that, too. Listen, my old friend. The bottom line is that I will do what I must, act as I see fit and until you stop playing dead, you have no say in the matter.”
“Alright, it's your life, your choice.”
“That it is,” the Wise One agreed.
“I say, old friend, tell me something,” Kismet asked after a pause. “How did you know I'd told them how to cut Kij vines safely?”
“I didn't get to be the Wise One without having eyes and ears everywhere,” he intoned.
The visitor flopped onto a couch that had just appeared. “Please!” he begged. “Spare me your ancient sage act!” The Wise One spread his hands. “You wear your mask; I'll wear mine. But if you really want me to answer your question, consider this: Who do you suppose created the Glade-That-Wasn'tSupposed-To-BeThere, hmmm?”
“You? I assumed it was her handiwork.” The Wise One snorted. “She has rather more important things to do than play with such simple, childish magic tricks.” He paused a moment and then his lips began to quiver with suppressed humour, eyes dancing with delight.
His visitor stood up suddenly - the sofa promptly vanished - and mumbled something about a sudden pressing engagement. His diary appeared in mid-air and flicked through its own blank pages as he made hastily for the door.
The booming laughter that emerged from the Wise One's lips didn't seem to fit with a man of his age and appearance. “You mean I've finally put one past you? After all this time, I've finally done it?”
“I-- I-- was busy-- so much going on --hard to keep track -gotta go! Er, Bye!”
With an entirely unnecessary puff of smoke, the visitor disappeared.
“Oh my dear Kismet,” The Wise One chuckled. “That alone almost makes this whole thing worthwhile!”
Epilogue
The reunion wasn't quite what Eilidh had expected. For some reason, she had assumed that all of her former companions would be there to welcome them and celebrate their safe return. Again, Eilidh pondered her mental use of the word `safe`. No-one and nothing in the world was safe while Niltsiar was around, but she would have felt better to see all of her companions again.
As it was, of her half dozen outstanding friends, only Rochelle was within Shakaran Castle's fortified walls. Her excursion to Merlyon Library had proved successful indeed. Of course, Rochelle had never before been to Shakaran City, let alone the castle, so naturally there had been stringent security measures to endure, even with Hannah’s seal. The presence of the daft old mage, Artisho, had smoothed things over somewhat. Apparently he was known here. Before long, Princess Mystaya had confirmed the druid's part in her rescue and thenceforth Rochelle was accorded full diplomatic honours and the Freedom of the City of Shakaran. Not to mention a heap of gold and the offer of free training. Rochelle postponed those considerations, however, preferring to begin her research.
The books were quite a find and the gnome was excited about what she had learned already from inside her own private `do-not-disturb` study room. She agreed to leave the research to one side for a time, however, in order to exchange stories with the others. She had not got very far, however, when a confused Eilidh demanded, “What are you talking about?”
“I'm sorry,” Rochelle said. “What part aren't you clear on?”
“The part where you lost your magic.”
“I told you; it was a Nullmagic spell.” Granite took up Eilidh's point. “What we're tryin' tae get at, lassie, is how ye managed tae get yer Life connection restored. It would have been a wee bit risky going tae the Church of Life in Merlyon, our leader's old stomping ground.”
Rochelle was offended. “Credit me with some sense, please! OK, I realise I don't have a very good track record on that score, but believe me, I'd never jeopardise our quest like that.”
“So how did you do it?” Eilidh pressed.
“Well, I didn't, obviously. Can't you tell? To all intents and purposes, magically speaking I'm still as Dead as a doornail.”
“Dead as a what?” Toli asked, fascinated by the expression.
“A doornail,” Rochelle repeated. “It's something Artisho said.”
“Can you please answer my question?” Eilidh demanded, getting annoyed at the perceived evasion.
“I am answering it!” Rochelle shot back. “I keep answering it, but you're not listening!”
“Alright,” Eilidh said. “Everyone just take a few breaths and calm down. Now, let's go over it again, from the beginning. Rochelle, what happened in the library after Merlana caught you?”
“She nodded to an Enforcer behind me and they cast a Nullmagic spell, stripping me of my connection to magic.” “OK, we've got that bit,” Eilidh assured her, encouragingly. “Now we all know that there are only two ways to cancel a Nullmagic spell: the first is that an Enforcer can dispel the effects. Did that happen to you?”
“No,” Rochelle answered.
“Right then, the second way is for a Catalyst to treat you and since there wasn’t one with you, that would mean attending a Church of Life, which is not cheap at all.”
“And it would have been a very bad idea, under the circumstances.”
“Agreed. So we come to the key question: how was your magic restored?”
“It wasn't; it hasn't been. I'm still magically Dead. Can't you tell?”
The two Catalysts exchanged glances.
Granite looked Rochelle in the eye, and said, solemnly. “This is what we donnae understand, lass: Yer not magically Dead. Yer magic is just fine.”
“But-”
Toli jumped in. “It's OK, we don't think you're lying...” she glanced around with a puzzled look, and asked, “...do we?”
Eilidh smiled. “No, of course not. We just need to get to the bottom of what's been done to you, Rochelle.”
She bade Rochelle to concentrate, and after a supreme effort, she cried, “Ganieda!”
“Pardon?”
“Well, I haven't got to that point in my story yet. You haven’t let me,” the druid said, pointedly.
“Then you’d better tell us.” Rochelle continued her tale, including Ganieda's gift, restoring the druid's magic. “But then,” she paused before continuing, trying hard to recall, “Artisho did something and...I forgot. I forgot I'd had my Life restored. I couldn't feel it or use it. It was just like the Nullmagic spell, but it wasn't that because as you can tell, I still have my magic intact.”
“I wonder what magic could do that?” Toli put in. “I don’t know, but if he hadn’t done what he did, I would have been incapacitated by Merlyon’s shield draining my Life Store and I'd never have got out. As it was, I guess I couldn’t feel it. Hang on...come to think of it, Artisho did a few other strange things with magic, like high level chronomagic...he made me forget those as well. He said I would remember when it was important...and I guess I have. How do suppose he did all that?”
Granite was the first to stand up. “I think it's time we asked him, don't you?”
The others agreed and went to find him. When they asked around, though, they were told they'd just missed him - he'd left the castle not five minutes since. The companions ran outside, but couldn't see him. Climbing the steps to the highest turret of the castle, they spotted a figure on the back of a great sea serpent in the nearby river, sun reflecting off his golden robes, heading away from the city.
The old man's voice drifted on the wind to their ears.
“Wait! W
e have to go back...I've left my hat!...”
* * * * * Eilidh Hagram had almost forgotten what it was like to not be dirty, smelly and sweaty. It seemed so long since she had woken up in a soft, cosy bed by the fireside. At last she had hot water to bathe in, clean, fluffy towels to dry herself with and freshly pressed white Catalyst's robes to wear, lightly scented with crushed rose petals. Shakaran Castle staff had even provided her with one of her favourite Techmagic devices: a hair dryer. With a simple application of house magic, which anyone with at least Life Potential could do, the object floated in mid-air and blew a warm breeze over her blonde tresses - and yes, here they qualified as `tresses`, not `tangled ball of string`. The device left her hands free to brush, comb and style her shoulder-length hair and make it shine. Dear gods it felt so good to be clean again, and she had even got used to the eerie nature of a castle built without magic. Well, almost.
She joined Tolbrietta Hobbnobb in the dining room, where the hobbit was just starting second breakfast– actual second breakfast, this time, not just the second helping of her first breakfast. Eilidh had slept later than she'd realised. Her best friend - Eilidh paused to soak in how good it felt to even think such a thing - greeted her with her usual bright and bubbly chatter, all traces of their recent ordeal wiped from her face and her heart.
Toli complained good-naturedly about Rochelle, with whom she had shared a room, saying. “In the end, I had to physically confiscate her books and lay on them in bed just to get her to stop reading and go to sleep. Mind you, it was just as well; the mattress was too soft, not that I'd ever complain or anything, but-”
After that, Eilidh wasn't really listening. She had no interest in talking, but she loved to hear her friend's incessant chatter, because it meant Toli was happy. And that was important. From what snippets the Catalyst retained in her mind, Granite Longbeard and Miss Jayne Corr had long since left the table and gone to root through the royal armoury at the Prince Regent's invitation. Meanwhile, Rochelle was busy in her study once more. Eilidh had to admit she'd been wrong about her. Given a chance at freedom, she had proved invaluable, resourceful, quick-witted and almost as study-happy as Eilidh herself.
Consequences (Majaos Book 2) Page 25