by Bill Ricardi
It was Rick who came to my rescue. He said, “Everything that Sorch has ever said about prophecy, about visions, about gods. All of it has come true, or we’ve had to stop it from coming true. If you don’t trust his words, we may as well give up right now, because everything we’ve done so far is based on his intuition and his dream of the end of the world.”
I said, quietly, “I’ll have to take Rick’s word for it. I traded my dream to a demon lord as part of a truce agreement.”
The room was silent for a moment.
Will and Leeson broke that silence by launching into their highly scientific analysis of the situation. Our story confirmed one of their theories. They spoke a language that even the northern elves appreciated: Arcane theory. It took the better part of an hour, and the two cited a score of resources ranging from centuries-old tomes to the mystical schematics recovered from our raid against the Cult of Harrington two years ago.
Will’s conclusion was stated with somber confidence. He said, “Given the amount of power that the Original Engine has likely gathered over the years, and given our current state of affairs, we are certain that destroying the remaining Arcane Syphons is the only way to stop the Original Engine from eventually tearing Panos apart.”
Chaos erupted.
Most of us were simply in disbelief. Not that we thought Leeson and Will were wrong, but it was a difficult course of action to accept. The Arcane Syphons had done an incredible amount of good for Panos. They built the Arcane University, repaired devastation from both natural and unnatural sources, created infrastructure in every major city on Panos, and mined precious resources that would have otherwise taken decades to unearth.
The elven contingent was having a more animated reaction. There was anger, there was infighting. Most of them were quite vocally insisting that we find another way to deal with this crisis. Even Hemitath looked shocked. She was not inclined to stop her colleagues from shouting out their protests.
“Typical human reaction, destroy what you don’t understand!”
“This is our legacy, and its fate is not yours to decide.”
“We should withdraw from these proceedings immediately.”
This went on for over a minute, in which time I recovered from my own state of shock. I stepped to the front of the assembly, putting myself in between the crowd and the two nervous looking humans that had just delivered the news.
Mustering all of the diplomatic skills that I learned over the years, remembering some of the political lessons taught to me by Leeson’s parents, I delivered a uniquely orcish message to the crowd.
“SHUT THE HELLS UP!”
The volume of my roar far surpassed that of any human or elf. The room quieted immediately, and all eyes were on me.
I delivered the next hammerblow. “However bad you think things are right now, it’s worse than that. What Will and Leeson haven’t mentioned, what hasn’t been factored into these equations, is the existence of the doomsday cultists. As bad as the passive transference of power from the Arcane Syphons might be, we have large groups of madmen actively trying to bring about the end of the world. They’re creating magical and elemental conduits that directly feed the Original Engine. These fissures that they’re trying to open up are just the beginning. The scope of this cult and the damage that they have caused is completely unknown. But the flooding in the Southwestern continent? The yetis having to flee their ancestral home? That is just the tip of a very big iceberg.”
It was Hemitath who spoke up, “We may have broken the back of this cult, there’s no evidence how widespread their activities might be.”
I reminded the former Headmaster, “When we were in the Astral, we felt those waves of power washing over us. That was in addition to the umbilicals coming from the Arcane Syphons. The power wasn’t just trickling in, it was surging. This growth is active, Hemitath. It’s intentional. The fissures that are being opened up, the elemental disruption… all of it could have gone largely undetected save for the one cult gathering we found in the desert. We have no real idea of the scope of the damage that is being caused around Panos as we speak. But if you think that one setback is going to stop a cult willing to bring about the end of the world, I’m genuinely afraid that they’re going to prove you wrong.”
The elves went quiet. Their faces now reflected states ranging from somber to horrified.
Will spoke up, noting, “We think that without the Arcane Syphons on the surface of Panos, the cult’s sacrifices will have no effect. The umbilicals that they create likely allow the Original Engine to tap into the ley lines and channel its power across the surface of Panos. Without them, the power won’t be able to flow in either direction.”
Leeson cleared his throat. He said, “Why don’t you all discuss matters within your particular groups. We’ll be here to answer any questions.”
The discussions led to even more discussions. Groups were broken down into smaller groups. Finally, it was decided that the input of governments, clergy, and other guilds would need to be sought out before any decision on Will and Leeson’s proposal could be made.
Everyone did agree to two measures. We would start gathering the Arcane Syphons in Limt as the various factions discussed their final decision. And both Rick and Will were taking a leave of absence from the Arcane University. They would sail the R. M. N. Taboo back to Limt, where they could tend to their business and still be ready to load up the Syphons for transport at a moment’s notice.
I got dressed for travel and shouldered my pack. One of the senior mages from Arbitros needed some resources from the Arcane University. Despite me advocating the destruction of elven national treasures, she was willing to include me in her Teleportation.
Upon arriving in the reception hall, I hesitated, thinking that there was some mistake. The normally busy hub of arcane activity looked more like a ghost town. I saw all of four people meandering around, and that included a scan of the second tier. The elven magus excused herself and walked towards the North Wing. I headed in the opposite direction.
The guards at the checkpoint apologetically informed me that due to faculty activities, classes were cancelled for the day. They assured me that meals were still being served in the dining area. I thanked them for the update, and then hurried upstairs to my guest room, in order to make sure that my family was alright.
I took the steps two at a time. The lack of any other people in the broad corridors was freaking me out. I found myself running down the final hallway at full speed. Upon arriving at our guest room, my shaking green hand twisted the handle and I burst through the door.
To my relief, I was greeted by the sight of Ames and Benno playing cards. Gambling for coppers, to be more accurate. It looked like Benno had just caught the were-cat in a bluff, and was scooping a small pile of coins towards his own stash.
Breathlessly I asked, “Is everything alright here?”
They both replied at the same time, speaking over one another.
“We’re so bored Dad.”
“Entertain us!”
So I did. I brought my family up to speed on the Original Engine, and the results of our exploration. I went into detail about my encounter with Kenvunk. This caused the card game to be cancelled and the table cleared, so that Benno could make detailed notes of my vision.
One of the last questions that my son asked was, “What did Kenvunk look like?”
I closed my eyes, trying to remember all of the details. I answered, “He looked a lot like me, except taller. Stronger. With a floppy straw hat. But I didn’t look like me. My hands were too soft, my skin was perfect. It was strange.”
Ames said, “And he mainly asked you for relationship advice.”
“Yes. Well, it was an exchange of ideas. Of… you know, of feelings.”
My mate and son were also exchanging something: Silent, concerned glances.
I insisted, “I’m not going crazy.”
Ames asked Benno, “Do you have enough details? When the people f
rom the asylum come by to collect him, I want to have well documented evidence.”
Benno sprinkled some fine sand over the ink, and then set the notes aside. “Yeah, we’re fine.”
I snorted, then asked a question of my own. “How come you aren’t in class, kiddo?”
My son explained, “A lot of the classes are being suspended, since so many of the professors and senior students are needed for research and field work in regards to the Original Engine. The junior students are doing what they can to help out, but a lot of them have been allowed to go home for the entire week. It’s a mess.”
Ames added, “The Transport Guild tells me that I’ve had three meetings cancelled from all around Panos. Apparently governments are calling emergency sessions, various Guilds are getting involved. I agree with Benno. It’s a mess.”
I sighed. “Any good news?”
The were-cat nodded slowly. “Apparently sales of your salt have gone up by 13 percent in the last four weeks.”
I stared at my mate.
“What? It’s the only good news that I have, take it or leave it.”
Benno chimed in, “The cleric who was visiting me said that I’m fully recovered and rehabilitated now. My toes still look a little squashed, but honestly I feel fine.”
I was relieved. I said, “That really is good news, kiddo. Maybe we should talk about it. About what happened, you know?”
The younger orc nodded eagerly, “We should, because I think next time I’ll be able to avoid something like that with a little bit of luck. There were telltale signs, I just didn’t recognise them.”
Ames said, “Dear, I think your father is trying to-”
But he continued, with that same infectious enthusiasm that he had for everything that he cared about, “There was this sound, and a definite shift under my feet. If I was a minotaur, I would have known exactly what was happening. I talked to Toby about it, and he says that at least some of that stuff can be learned.”
This time I was the one who tried to get a word in edgewise, “That’s great son, but I was-”
Benno’s eyes got wide, “Oh, and Tara said that she would sit with me at some point and see if we could develop a minotaur variant of the Minor Polymorph spell. I mean, clearly I would be doing the developing, but she would let me see through her mind and stuff.”
He stopped when he saw us both looking at him. “What?”
The were-cat said, gently, “Your father wanted to talk to you about something.”
Benno looked at me. I could still see that raw excitement in his eyes, the passion. And that was just him talking about adventure. Whatever plans that I might have had for ending my son’s adventuring career died a quiet death.
“I know they’re expensive, but I think we make enough on a mission these days that we should start carrying one or two Minor Healing potions.”
Ames’ eyes widened in surprise. My mate flashed me a bright, toothy smile of approval.
Benno was nodding when I glanced back at him. “Yeah, I think that’s a great idea. We can probably get a discount from the Temple of Melflavin. I’ll talk to Tara about it.”
I said, “And we can buy some of those metallic flasks that can survive a significant impact. If we’re making that kind of investment, we should protect it.”
After working out the details and logistics, conversation turned to one of my least favorite topics.
Benno said, “I’ve recorded all of your recent episodes.”
I snorted, “Do we really have to call them ‘episodes’? I think the term is unfairly pejorative.”
Ames made a couple of ‘helpful’ suggestions, “Nutty daydreams? Crazy trips?”
Benno was more cooperative, “Events?”
I gestured to the younger orc, “Events. Much better.”
“I’ve recorded all of your recent events, and I think that they’re as detailed and accurate as they’re going to be. They’re ready to share with our friends.”
Ames was nodding, “In all seriousness, I read most of them. They’re fair representations. And if it helps any, everything that involved me seems to be accurate.”
My mate’s reassurance was helpful. At least I wasn’t fabricating any of these strange flashbacks. I said, “Normally I would suggest Shaman first, but he’s not likely to be able to participate without undue frustration. Rick and Will, I suppose? And then Toby and Tara? Followed by my mentors here at the University.”
Benno nodded and said, “Done. I’ll get this over to the guys right away. Unless you had any more recent epis… events that you wanted to add, Father?”
I cleared my throat and then murmured, “I did have one recently, but it shouldn’t be included.”
Ames scowled. The were-cat said, “What if it’s important?”
Benno jumped on that bandwagon, “We should really include everything if we can.”
I shook my head. “Nope. No.”
Ames asked, “Why? What’s so terrible that you wouldn’t share it with our friends?”
I looked at my mate and said, “It was about the first time I showed you the Private Sanctum spell.”
“Oh. Oh! Yeah we aren’t including that.”
Benno looked confused. “Why? Maybe it’s key to-”
Ames cut our son off mid sentence. “Sex, kiddo. Lots and lots of sex.”
I stood and walked behind Ames, rubbing the were-cat’s shoulders. I said, “I’m willing to share every stupid thing I’ve ever done. But that’s off limits.”
Benno shook his head. He said, “Fine. I admit, it doesn’t seem relevant. There are more poetic, well written accounts of such things in the library.”
Ames reached up. I felt claws prickling at my ribs through the fabric of my shirt. “Oh I don’t know. I think your father and I can be awfully ‘poetic’ at times.”
I leaned down to deliver a gentle nip at Ames’ triangular ear. I loved making it flick like that. “But not under the shroud of a Private Sanctum. That experience is less theatrical.”
Benno stood up quickly. He said, “Ew. Okay, I’m leaving. I don’t need to know about your lurid midnight performances. You can put that in your own journals.” The younger orc gathered his things and beat a hasty retreat, closing the guest room’s door behind him.
Ames stood up and turned to face me. The feline said, “Well, we’ve scarred him for life.”
I smirked, fangs showing from one side of my mouth. I teased my mate by saying, “If he wasn’t already scarred for life after walking in on us with those sex toys that we borrowed from Parsnip, I think he’ll survive this.”
The memory brought a hot flush to my kitten’s ears, and stole any reply that the feline might have had. I leaned in for a kiss, reassuring Ames that my love was unconditional.
A few minutes of necking was all I could take before coming up with an excuse. I said, “It’s chilly in here, I’m going to get under the covers.”
Ames asked, “If it’s cold, why are you taking off your clothes?”
I added, “Oh by the way, you’re cold too.”
“If I’m cold, why are you taking off my clothes?”
“Shut up and get in bed.”
The truth was, I was never cold for long next to Ames. That soft white fur brushing over my entire body tended to warm me up rapidly. Even in the most chaste of circumstances, I found joy in holding the were-cat’s body against mine.
But these were not the most chaste of circumstances. The feline’s merciless teasing meant that I needed to take control. Not that Ames was complaining. Pinned down and helpless under my full weight was one of the cat’s favorite positions.
Within this rare interlude of cancelled meetings, we were left undisturbed for the entire night. Our activities degenerated into slow, drawn out love making interspersed with regenerative naps. Dinner wasn’t even a consideration. Sating other hungers would come first.
Chapter 16
I knew it couldn’t last.
Ames and I woke up to a gentle rapp
ing at our door. Benno had stopped by. He was wondering if we’d like to join him for breakfast in an hour. With no word from either Max or the Transport Guild, the two of us assumed that we were free. We told him that it was a date, and Ames headed off to bathe while I performed my morning memorizations and enhancements. When the frizzy-furred feline returned, I took a quick bath myself, and then got dressed in some nice warm robes.
But such an idyllic start to the day was never meant to be, of course. Just as Ames and I met up with Benno, we heard the most awful sound imaginable.
The alarm itself wasn’t the awful part. Sure it was loud, and the tone was designed to awake and disturb humanoids. But the implication was far worse: We would be standing out in the snow until this fire drill was over. The Circle of Teleportation was shut down during an alarm, and everyone was expected to leave the Arcane University via one of the mundane exits.
I was just pondering which administrative moron might have planned this exercise, when I realized it wasn’t an exercise. Guards’ voices were ringing out from the direction of the South Wing’s entry hallway.
One particularly colorful sentry’s voice carried above the rest: “This ain’t a drill! Get yer butts out th’ door, now. The Apprentice Library’s under attack.”
I glanced at Ames, who in turn glanced at Benno. My son took a step towards the South Wing guard post. Followed by a second, quicker step. Soon all three of us were sprinting towards the announced danger, much to the chagrin of the guards who were trying to get everyone evacuated safely.
Because of the cancelled classes and reduced staff, we didn’t encounter much resistance on our way to the East Wing checkpoint. The reception hall was empty as wiser folk sought out the conventional exits. The guards at the East gate were bandaging a small, huddled figure. It took me a moment to recognise her.
I got there first, and crouched by the bruised, scalded, breathless wererat. “Moria, it’s Sorch. What happened?”
The little mage opened one puffy eye. A look of relief and fear washed over her furry face. She half groaned, half whispered, “They came through the floor. Dug in.”