He was worried. From what little he had been able to ferret out, there was far more going on in the realms that smelled foul than there should have been. True, there had always been uprisings and waves of rogue magic spread throughout the history of the Keep, but this time, the signs painted a much darker portrait.
They portrayed a different picture that he had been expecting. If he were right, the magic Dra’kor was talking about and the notes he had made the night before were about the exact same thing, an old magic that they had forgotten. He wondered what it meant. For all the straining, he couldn’t recall a single notable fact about either the magic or what he had done the night before, and yet, there it was, written in his journal in his own hand.
He flipped open his leather-bound journal and traced the hand-written text with his finger. He didn’t recall writing it. He was suspicious of what it said. The words screamed at him, gnawed at the back of his consciousness, like memory just out of reach, or a face you can’t place. He picked up his quill and scratched a few extra comments in the margins.
Today, he would have to tell Zedd’aki of his venture out of the Keep. He expected a lecture. He shook his head and grimaced. Zedd’aki would be furious, and rightly so, he supposed. He knew his friend would quickly calm down once he understood what was at stake. Maybe …
Ja’tar got up and poured himself a tumbler of brandy. He stared at the glass; it was still early in the morning, too early for a stiff drink, or was it? He picked up the drink, swallowed it in one big gulp, and smiled as it burned its way down his throat. He really needed to calm down and compose himself. He needed to harness his energy and stay focused when he confronted Zedd’aki with his night’s adventure. There was much at stake.
And what exactly was at stake? He didn’t remember much, but the notes in his journal painted a clear enough picture for him to understand the predicament they were in. He would need Zedd’aki’s help. Whom else could he trust? It was unclear. If the Keep had been infiltrated, a misstep could prove fatal. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. What to do next?
A Closing? Perhaps. It still needed to be done, just to cover his bases. He would only risk so much. Even he had his limits.
Dra’kor and Men’ak had turned out to be valuable assets. He never would have imagined that they would be the ones to uncover the ruse, and to think he had initially wanted to get them out of the Keep so that he could maneuver and politic. He was hesitant to consider the predicament the Keep would be in without their help. It shook him to his core.
His resolve rose. He could no longer afford to stay sequestered in the Keep. He needed to get out into the world and see for himself what was going on. He pushed himself out of the chair, and stuffed the note from Dra’kor into his pocket along with his journal. He steadied himself as he felt the effects of the strong brandy. He smiled to himself.
He took one-step toward the windows in the turret and paused as he looked out across the tall pines and splendid snow-covered mountains. He turned toward the south and his face went blank. He thought he heard something, like a small quiet voice calling to him. It was muffled. He strained to focus on the tiny whisper, but it floated away like a butterfly, just out of reach.
He decided it was his imagination, turned and let himself out of his room.
Duvall frowned. She had failed to make contact again. If only she could talk to the man in the next room, but try as she might, she just couldn’t shout loud enough. She wondered which of the Ten was there. She knew it had to be one of them, because the entire turret belonged to them, and them alone. She decided that she would need to change her approach and that she would have to ponder an alternate solution to her dilemma. She stared at the crack, the bloody crack that had allowed her to be trapped. It had allowed the demon to escape the confinement spell and forced her to seek refuge in the bal’achar.
To be continued in, The Third Sign.
Glossary
Every effort has been made to accurately translate the Torren language, however some terms are not well suited to English and their nearest equivalents are taken from Gaelic, Norse, and Latin as needed. These are explained below.
AEgis - protection/protector by a strong force or terror (Norse) derivative of ‘terror’
AEsir - The God(Gaelic)
Ailleachd - beauty (Gaelic)
Alzaer - also the Fire of Alzaer. A region to the north where the ground burned and at times glowed red. A place where the earth was sick and belched the rock from festering sores (Norse).
Aontaithe - ‘united’. Pronounced: ain-taha (Gaelic)
Banail -female (Gaelic)
Balandrana - a wide cloak worn by travelers in the 13th and 14th centuries (Medieval English).
Beachdachadh Mountain - the Mountain of Knowledge. (Ancient Gaelic) word for observation, thinking, or studying. Where the Keep is located.
beul-aithris -oral tradition of storytelling(Gaelic)
Braies - short underwear tied at the waist (Medieval English).
Bovate - an amount of land which could be worked by a competent team of oxen in a year (Medieval English).
Cliste -wise (Gaelic)
Comharraidhean - marking (Gaelic)
Darkhalla - where the Warvyn lives and rules (in the lower planes).
Epitoga - wide, un-gathered robe, belted and sometimes with sleeves, mainly worn by academics in 13th century (Medieval English).
Halla - a place similar to a hell. Commonly used in an expression as in, “Go to halla!”
Maslin - course bread made of stone- ground rye and wheat (Medieval English).
Patten - wooden plates strapped to the shoes to keep them from getting wet and muddy (Medieval English).
Pau amarello - an exotic hardwood.
Pavise - a narrow shield with stakes in the front and a strong brace to the rear, shaped somewhat like an easel. Used by crossbow archers who hid behind them while reloading their bows (Medieval English).
Quintal - a hundredweight, 100 lbs. or about 7 stones (Medieval English).
Roth - a nearly extinct wooly bear with short luxurious fur, light brown in color and peppered with white striations. Prized for its skin.
Scrying - using an enchanted pool to see the future or current events
Stone - a unit of weight, about 14 lbs. (Medieval English).
Tharseo - to face with courage (Ancient Greek).
Tor Root - a mind numbing root, numbs for pain, addictive, and a mild hallucinogen. Typically dried and smoked.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements ix
Prologue xiv
Signs 19
Watcher 32
Five Peaks 53
Mourning 61
Haagen 74
Duvall 82
Suspicions 87
A Few Words 107
Confrontation 124
Perhaps a Quest 139
Naan 165
The Cave 185
Quaint Rundown Inn 211
A Night to Remember 238
Tinker 254
Haagen’s Cross 267
Three Rivers 298
D’Arron 320
Hagra 357
The Real Gift 383
Harsh Words 404
Skree 416
Struggles 434
Confusion 456
In my Dreams 484
I Was a God 492
Alive 505
Epilogue 509
Glossary 513
The Legacy of the Ten: Book 01 - Eyes of the Keep Page 63