The Chronicles of the Myrkron: Book 01 - The Nine Keys of Magic

by Timothy Woods

  Micah’s eyes were locked on Merric’s, but he turned them to Michael to answer.

  "Yes, that is true. We do not share our knowledge outside of our kind. You are the first."

  Michael bowed his head and kept his eyes on the floor.

  "Micah, you honor me. I…I don’t know what to say."

  "You have said it. Now, Merric, about those rooms…," Micah let his reply trail off.

  "Of course, of course. Please follow me."

  Merric proceeded to walk to the door through which the students exited, Michael and Micah following a few steps behind. When Michael walked through the doorway his breath caught in his throat. What he thought was a large entrance hall was suddenly a mere waiting room compared to the grand chamber they entered. The room was easily over a hundred feet both in length and width. The ceiling was lost in shadows high above. He could see windows letting in what little starlight there was, but those windows were at least fifty feet above his head. Two grand staircases led up, one on each side of the room, to a balcony that encircled the hall. Michael could see another balcony above that one and knew there must be more like them even farther up, though he could not see them from where he stood. The floor was tiled in stark white marble that gleamed as if it were glass, the torchlight touching off fire in its blue veining.

  But, what really drew Michael's attention was the statue in the center of the room. It had been carved from a strange, dark blue stone and was about twenty five feet tall. It depicted a robed woman with her arms reaching out and up, hooded head raised toward the heavens. Her hands were cupping what appeared to be a dove and a flame. Michael could not have said why, but the statue filled him with a sense of awe.

  Merric stopped and turned when he realized that he was no longer being followed. He saw Michael’s stunned expression and smiled slightly at Micah. Merric cleared his throat to gain Michael’s attention.

  "I see you find our statue inspiring."

  Michael had to make a conscious effort to swallow before he could reply.

  "I have never seen its like before. It seems so, I don’t know, powerful, for lack of a better word."

  Merric merely nodded.

  "I always like to see a new student’s reaction to it. I will share with you the statue’s origin as I was told many years ago. This statue was placed here ages past. It was a gift from the dwarves to one of our wizards for her aid to them. Her name was Marion, and she was a great wizard, one of the most powerful who ever lived. What exactly she did for the dwarves is not known. It must have been something extraordinary, for the dwarves brought the stone all the way from Delven Vale and erected it where it stands today. It is told that five of their greatest craftsmen worked for over a year to carve what you see before you. The dwarves have ever since been one of our closest allies, though I do not believe any dwarf has since set foot within the walls of Kantwell."

  "There are no magi among the dwarves?" Michael asked, his eyes never leaving the statue.

  "No. The dwarves have healers among them, which in itself is a magical skill, but they have no magi. Conversely, no magi has the ability to heal."

  Michael looked at Merric a bit taken aback.

  "So magic cannot heal? You, even as an eighth key, cannot heal?"

  "No, I cannot. No mage has ever had healing abilities. It seems to be a gift reserved for the dwarves and elves, though it is rare among the elves. And with current relations being what they are with the elves, I am not even certain any still have the ability," Merric replied.

  "Then there was absolutely no way I could have saved her, even if I had known what I was doing." Michael’s statement had the tone of a resignation to a fact finally understood and accepted.

  "You speak of your woman on the other world?" Merric asked.

  "Aye, my wife, Karin."

  Merric’s eyes glistened with moisture.

  "Forgive me, Michael. It seems you and I share more than a common enemy. I, too, lost my wife. Mine was taken from me many years ago in a war just such as this one. I know what you are feeling."

  Michael was startled to learn this fact.

  "It seems that we do, indeed. After Micah found me and educated me somewhat concerning magic, it has always been at the back of my mind that if I knew how to use the magic, I might have been able to save her somehow."

  "No, my boy, there was nothing you could have done; even had you known all there was to know about magic. For all our power, healing is the one ability that is beyond us. Feel no guilt on that account, Michael. Instead, place the guilt where it belongs, at Mortow’s feet."

  Michael’s blue eyes turned dark and went cold.

  "If I get the chance, I will shove it down his throat!" Michael exclaimed softly as his hands clenched into fists.

  "Entertaining thoughts of vengeance also will do you no good. It will merely distract you from the knowledge you need to gain in order to accomplish that vengeance. For now, you need to concentrate on the how, not the end result," Merric said with concern in his voice.

  "Merric is right, my friend. Brood not on the enemy lest his visage force your hand. Your goals are best served by strengthening yourself for what is to come. Be prepared so you may have all the tools you need to bring down your foe," Micah concurred emphatically.

  "You’re right. You are both right, of course, but knowing that does not make it any easier. While I train and learn, her killer walks free and unpunished, making yet more plans for bloodshed. If I knew more, this war might already be over," Michael sighed, his shoulders slumping.

  "Why do you say that?" Merric asked startled at the statement.

  Michael started to reply, but Micah deftly cut him off before he could utter another word.

  "Let us discuss might have been at another time. For now, I think we all need to get some rest. Perhaps it will not seem so bleak when you have had a proper night’s rest, Michael."

  Merric furrowed his brow at Micah, but let the issue drop as he saw the determined look on Micah’s face.

  "Yes, of course, how ill-mannered of me to keep you when you so obviously need rest. Please, if you would just follow me, I will show you to your rooms." Merric turned and made for the stairs at the left side of the room.

  Michael glanced at Micah and was surprised to see Mieka standing quietly among them as well. He had completely forgotten she was there. As he inclined his head toward her, she favored him with a slight smile before moving off to catch up with Merric. Michael and Micah walked side by side several paces behind them.

  "You must quickly learn to better guard your tongue. Do not let your anger loosen it," Micah warned in a stern voice barely louder than a whisper.

  "So you think I should not tell Merric about the mirror?"

  "No, that is not what I mean. Merric should be told, but I would advise against letting anyone else know at this time."

  "Then thank you for stopping me. I had forgotten she was there," Michael said softly.

  "I am here to protect you, Michael. If that means I have to shield you from yourself until you get your bearings, then so be it. Just try to be a little more careful."

  "I will. It’s just that the mere mention of that man burns my ass," Michael hissed.

  Micah raised an eyebrow at Michael and leaned over towards him.

  "You know what really burns mine?" Micah whispered conspiratorially.

  Michael looked at him seriously.

  "No, what?"

  "A fire about this high," Micah said holding a hand palm down at waist level, shooting him a grin.

  Michael was so stunned he stopped walking again. He stared at Micah, and then burst out laughing. It just seemed so odd to hear a joke coming from Micah. Michael shook his head and fell back into step still chuckling.

  "You know, I don’t know what’s funnier, the joke or the fact that you made it."

  "Are you implying that I don’t have a sense of humor, Sir?" Micah quipped in mock indignation.

  "No, not at all. I’m sure a man of your ad
vanced years has had to develop one somewhere along the way," Michael replied drolly.

  "Touché," Micah chuckled.

  They continued to follow Merric and Mieka up two flights of stairs and then down a long corridor with large wooden doors set about fifteen feet apart on both sides of the hall. Merric came to a stop after about the tenth door and stood facing the one on the left. As they came up to the door, Merric opened it, pointed a finger into the room, and spoke.

  "Lux lucis."

  Michael saw light issue forth from the room. Merric gestured for them to enter. Micah managed to ease in front of Michael and enter the room first. Once inside, Michael glanced around. There was a bed set flush against the left wall with a small nightstand at its head and a large chest at its foot. There was a candle burning on the little nightstand. Michael assumed Merric lit it with his invocation. Below the window on the far wall, was another small stand with a wash basin and pitcher, as well as a towel. The right wall held a small writing table with two plain wooden chairs, an empty, four-shelved bookcase that came to about chest height on Michael, and a large wardrobe. The wood of all the furniture was dark colored and worn smooth. In the corner opposite the bed was a heavy burgundy curtain.

  Out of curiosity, Michael walked over to the candle and blew it out, plunging the room into darkness. He concentrated on lighting the candle and repeated the words Merric had spoken.

  "Lux lucis." Feeling the breeze and the power course through his mind, he saw the candle flare to life again. He turned back to Merric and explained.

  "I just wanted to see if I could light it as well."

  Merric smiled approvingly.

  "Nicely done. It is a simple spell, but it still requires one to be at least a sixth key in order to work it."

  Michael turned and looked at the burgundy curtain quizzically. Pointing at it, he asked.

  "Is that a closet of some kind?"

  Micah chuckled.

  "Of some kind, aye. It is called a garderobe. It’s what you would call a bathroom."

  "Oh." Michael walked over and pulled the curtain back. There was a small stonework seat with a wooden lid built into the back of the small cubicle. The only other feature was a small wooden shelf about shoulder high with a candle on it. Michael turned back, closing the curtain.

  "I would only call that a half bath. Where is the tub? I mean, I know there is no running water, but there has to be a place to bathe."

  Merric grinned.

  "Quite right, my boy. There are bathing rooms on the ground floor. They are in the north wing. There is a designated area for the men, and a separate one for the women. I am afraid you have to draw your own water, but I can show you a spell that will accomplish that. Be thankful you are at least a sixth key, anything less and you would have to manually haul the water from the well."

  "Yes, I would appreciate that. I have filled a glass with water before, but I would much rather know the proper way of doing it."

  Merric raised an eyebrow at him.

  "Oh, did Micah show you how to fill a glass?"

  Michael looked Merric in the eyes and then shifted his gaze to Mieka and back, hoping Merric would take the hint.

  "I hate to be an ungracious guest, but I think I really need to get some sleep," Michael said, letting his shoulders slump a bit.

  "I understand," Merric replied, returning Michael’s direct gaze.

  "We can talk more tomorrow. There will be plenty of time for stories then. There are apprentice robes in the wardrobe if you wish to wear them. Most students do, but since you will be training in arms as well, I will leave the decision up to you. I will have Martin bring you a sash befitting your rank in the morning. He will be your guide for a while, until you get to know the place better. His room is three doors up the hall and on your right. If you need anything in the night just let him know, and do not worry about waking him because he will probably be up most of the night studying. I am afraid he is a bit vexed over not having been able to open the fifth door yet."

  "Thank you…umm what should I call you? Headmaster, Master, Teacher, Sir?"

  Merric smiled again.

  "Most here call me Master, and while we are in class that is the proper appellation. I would consider it a personal favor if, when we are alone, you would just call me Merric."

  Michael nodded to him. Even with Micah’s warning about not trusting everyone here, he was finding that he really liked this wizardly looking giant. Merric’s unassuming manner and gentle nature put him totally at ease. Michael realized he had been vaguely dreading meeting Merric, afraid of finding a stern, hard-nosed professor.

  "Thank you, Merric." He turned to Mieka, feeling a strange flutter in his stomach as he looked into her eyes.

  "Forgive me, but I assume you are a teacher here also, seeing as you do not wear grey robes. Are you to be addressed as Mistress then?"

  Mieka flashed him a grin and turned to Merric.

  "Oh, I like him, Uncle. He is going to be a quick learner." Then to Michael she replied.

  "Yes, in class I am addressed as Mistress, but like Uncle Merric, I too, would consider it a favor if you just called me Mieka when we are alone. I will be handling most of your classroom training. Between Merric, Mathis, and myself, we will be training you on an individual basis as well, so we will have a fair amount of time alone," Mieka told him, smiling warmly.

  The smile hit him like a truck. He felt his stomach flip and felt blood rush to his face again. Michael berated himself. Karin had been dead less than a week and already he was finding himself attracted to another woman. He couldn’t seem to help himself though. There was just something about her that intrigued him. Clearing his throat, he averted his gaze.

  "Mathis? Who is Mathis?"

  "Ah yes, you have not had the opportunity to meet Mathis yet. He is another wizard who helps out with the teaching as well as other duties. He is an eighth key, like myself, and formerly one of my students as was Mieka here. You probably won’t see much of him. He only fills in for Mieka when there is need," Merric informed him.

  "Micah, you may avail yourself of any room beyond this one. They are all vacant starting with the one across the hall." Merric motioned for Mieka to follow him.

  "Come, my dear, let’s allow these gentlemen to get some rest. Good night, Michael, Micah," Merric said as he closed the door behind him.

  Michael started to say something, but Micah raised his hand and shook his head. He waited with his head cocked, listening for about a minute. Then he reached into a hidden, inner pocket of his shirt and pulled out a small silver flask. Michael could see frost on the flask and steam drifting off of it. Micah opened it and took a small drink. Closing it, he returned the flask to the hidden pocket. Micah gestured widely with his right arm and intoned.

  "Tutela ex deprehensio. Now we can talk."

  "What was that spell?"

  "A warding spell. It guards against scrying and prevents sound from traveling beyond its confines."

  "And what are its confines?"

  "I have warded the entire room. The words of the spell are roughly translated as guard from detection. It will not keep anyone from physically walking in, but it will keep them from eavesdropping or scrying upon those inside its perimeter. It is one spell that I suggest you commit to memory. It is particularly handy for having private conversations in places such as this."

  "What were the words again?"

  "Tutela ex deprehensio," Micah repeated.

  "Tutela ex deprehensio. Ok, I will remember that. How do you set its boundaries? By concentrating on the area you wish to protect?" Michael asked.

  "Correct. The larger the space, the more energy required to guard it, though it does not take a great deal of energy to guard something as small as this room. The big energy drain comes when you try to cast it over a place the size of Kantwell itself."

  "You can do that? Ward an area that big?"

  "Of course, if you have enough power."

  "Then this entire castle is pr
otected in that way?"

  "Aye, Merric warded Kantwell right after the Purging. That was when Mortow tried to take over and was banished from Kantwell. I am sure you will hear all about that from Merric in due course. As for the ward, it can be maintained indefinitely by merely pouring a little energy into it from time to time. It takes far less to maintain it than to set it anew."

  "How often do you need to do that?"

  "On something this small, that is only proof against detection of scrying and sound, probably once a week."

  "How do I feed energy into it?"

  "Close your eyes."

  Michael stood up straighter and closed his eyes.

  "Now I want you to visualize the ward as a mist, pale shell encompassing the room, floating just at its limits. Not only the walls, but also the floor and ceiling are covered by its shifting, swirling protection. Do you have that image?" Micah’s voice droned in a soft monotone.

  "Aye," Michael whispered.

  "Good. Now reach out with your mind and touch the shell. Can you feel anything?"

  "A tingling sensation, like a mild electrical charge."

  "Very good. What you feel is the energy of the spell. Now, visualize pouring forth a small amount of energy, no more than what you can feel within the spell itself, and say tribuo. You should be able to feel its power grow."

  Michael spoke the word then smiled.

  "Aye, the charge is stronger. I can feel it."

  Micah closed his eyes and observed Michael with his mind.

  "Now, I want you to visualize pulling the energy you just poured into it back out and say, traho. Feel the energy return to your body. Feel it reenergize your muscles and your mind."

  Michael spoke the word, and Micah could see the lines of force Michael hooked into the spell. He could see the energy flowing up the lines reverse and return to Michael.

  "Very good. You are a natural at this. Use this technique to check it about once a week. If the field feels weak, just pour a little energy into it, and it will remain intact. Open your eyes now." Micah also opened his to see Michael staring at him glassy eyed. Micah inclined his head to him.

  "You did very well."