Cyhan snorted, “Wizard problems,” dismissing the conversation.
Chad was not so quick to surrender, “Maybe, but there’s often more than one way to skin a cat,” he told the bigger man. Focusing on me he said, “Is this some magic thing or something more run of the mill?”
I took a sip of my newly filled cup. “What do you consider run of the mill?”
“Like wantin’ to tup the barmaid without the wife catchin’ on,” he elaborated.
Looking at my words from that angle, I could see how something like that might fit them, so I decided to clarify things for him, “It isn’t a woman and it isn’t really magic, though it’s related to magic in the end… it’s information. I know where it lies, but I can’t look at it myself. It’s like a book sitting on my desk, but I can’t read it, whenever I try my eyes close, whether I want them to or not.”
“Get someone else to read it for you,” said Cyhan, before setting his cup down and resting his head in both hands. He had definitely drunk more than was wise.
The huntsman nodded in agreement but I stopped them there, “No one else can read it. It’s in here,” I said tapping my skull.
Chad frowned, “If it’s in your head already… I don’t see the problem.”
“It’s there. I just can’t look at it. My mind’s eye refuses to gaze upon it. I just get glimpses from the corner of my eye whenever I least expect them,” I explained.
“Told you… wizard problems,” repeated Cyhan.
“And that attitude is why he never asks you for advice on ‘em!” said the huntsman, pointing a finger at the Knight of Stone.
“Just the way I like it,” said the warrior.
“Weren’t you the one advising him to talk to people instead of keepin’ it all to himself?” rebuked Chad.
Cyhan belched before replying, “I just said it was his problem… I wasn’t offering to fix it.”
The hunter burst into laughter and I was considering retiring for the evening when he fixed me with a serious stare. “You should think of this thing like it was your quarry,” he told me.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“You know why deer stand still when they hear somethin’?” he said cryptically.
My brow furrowed, “I don’t think that really relates…”
“To keep from bein’ seen!” Chad said loudly, ignoring my comment. “The eyes are tricky and they get bored quick. Most hunters rely on movement to spot their quarry. When you hunt from a stand, you’re waiting on your prey to move… that’s when you see them. If you’re slip hunting, you hope to get close enough to flush them out, either way its movement you’re wanting.”
I decided to play his game, “Well this quarry won’t be moving on its own, and I don’t see how I’m supposed to ‘flush it out’.”
“You already know something, or you wouldn’t be trying to learn more,” replied the slender outdoorsman. “That’s what you use. You follow the signs and markings. Once I learn where the deer are feeding, where they travel in the morning, I make sure I’m close by to catch ‘em.”
The ‘when’ of it all was deep in the past, but his words made me think of the door beneath my house in Albamarl. I already knew it was related to my hidden knowledge, but I had never spent much time investigating it. In fact I hadn’t gone near the door in many years, possibly because of my subconscious dread. If it wasn’t possible to force my reluctant mind’s eye to look directly at the source of my anxiety, discovering what lay behind that door might force some of the knowledge out into the open.
“There’s probably a place like that…,” I ventured.
Chad looked at me intently, “But you haven’t been there, have you?”
“Briefly, before I knew anything about it. After that I was always too busy. Over the last few years I’ve learned some things that made me uneasy about it, but…,” I trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.
“But… you were too damned afraid to look it right in the face,” he finished for me. Then he leaned over and patted Cyhan on the face to wake him up, “Hey! Wizard problems my ass… he just didn’t want to face the truth. Pretty much like most everybody else in this place.” Chad pointed unsteadily at the other patrons in the room. “Are you listening?” he added, once he realized that Cyhan had closed his eyes again.
I stood up to leave. “I’ll take your advice if you make sure he manages to get home,” I told the huntsman.
Chad nodded. “Big bastard can’t hold his drink. That’s what all that clean livin’ gets him,” he noted disapprovingly.
Clapping him on the shoulder companionably I made my way to the door, but as I left I heard the woodsman mutter again under his breath, “The big bastard ain’t got no home neither… a bed, aye, he’s got that, and steady work. Wizards ain’t the only ones afraid to face their problems.”
I mulled that over as I left, and decided that perhaps his perceptiveness extended to more than just keen eyes and ears. When I found my bed later that night, I could hardly sleep for the disconcerting sound of death’s voice in my mind. Lately it had gotten increasingly loud, particularly during the quiet hours.
* * *
I was unable to test my newfound resolve for several weeks, for a seemingly endless array of duties appeared, preventing me from slipping away to the house in Albamarl. When a lull in my schedule did appear, Penny and Rose decided to take advantage of it with a trip to the capital, which suited me just fine.
The only fly in the ointment was the fact that I was hoping for an extended period of time alone. I could have had that easily enough, by confiding in my wife, but my reason for wanting it would have raised some alarms with her. In particular I wanted the house empty, just in case whatever I discovered turned out to be a more immediate and direct threat than a dusty memory or long forgotten misdeeds.
As chance would have it, the perfect opportunity presented itself on our second day there. Rose and Dorian were to visit her family, the Hightowers, that day and they had invited us along. It was a family occasion and naturally the children were invited as well. Lord Hightower wanted to see his newest granddaughter and he was probably also curious to meet our children too, since he had never seen them. It might have been a perfect day, but for my obligations.
“I can’t make it,” I repeated again. Penny often had hearing problems when she heard things that didn’t fit neatly within her plans.
“Why not?”
I held up my hands regretfully, “I promised our King that I’d check on the portals at the World Road today; some of them have developed an odd shimmer and a humming noise. He worries that something might have gone wrong with them.”
She waved her hands dismissively, “Tell James you’ll look into it tomorrow. He’ll understand.”
I frowned, “He would, but I worry that something might be damaged. There’s no telling what might happen if one of the portals discharged itself in an uncontrolled manner.” Of course that was a complete fabrication, not only were the portals still functioning perfectly, but I had designed the enchantment to safely channel the energies they contained back into storage, should one of them be damaged unexpectedly.
It was a lie that I knew would be discovered eventually, had I not already planned to reveal the truth that evening. I merely wanted to make sure the house was empty during my planned exploration. “If things are in order I should be able to join you at the Hightower’s home in the afternoon,” I said placatingly, before adding, “I have a surprise for you later, something I should have given you almost a year ago.”
She gave me a shrewd look, sensing something fishy in my manner and tone, but if she thought I was being deceptive, she withheld the accusation. Her intuition was still uncanny, but since she had taken the earth-bond over a year ago, she was no longer able to spot white lies as easily as she once had.
“I don’t care about presents… you promise you’ll join us as soon as you’re free?” she said at last.
“
Of course,” I said, pulling her in close for a quick embrace. As always, the smell of her hair brought me a feeling of peace and security. It was the smell of home, for where she was… that was where I belonged. She allowed me a short kiss before pushing me away brusquely at the sound of Moira’s laughter.
Our daughter was giggling as she looked up at us, while her brother could hardly conceal his distaste. “Ewww,” he declared.
“I think they’re jealous,” I said, glancing at Penny mischievously.
The twins had heard that line before, and they reacted in entirely different ways. Moira smiled, nodding her head in agreement, while Matthew shook his head in denial. “No… no, we’re not jealous at all!” he protested.
We ignored his objections and chased them both around the room, kissing and tickling them mercilessly once they were caught. Despite his insistence, Matthew was laughing and smiling the entire time. Not to be left out, Conall leapt to his brother’s defense, or rather he leapt onto my back. It really did nothing to help his older brother’s plight.
Squealing and laughing the five of us wrestled on the floor for several minutes before Irene started crying from her crib, either because the noise had frightened her, or perhaps because she was too small to join in the fun.
An hour later I bid them farewell at the front door of the house. Lord Hightower had been kind enough to send a carriage large enough to hold not only his daughter and son-in-law, with their two children, but my wife and children as well. I watched them board and Dorian looked back at me before stepping in behind them.
“Don’t take too long, I can use all the support I can get facing old Lord Hightower,” he told me with a smile.
“Don’t worry, I’ll hurry,” I replied. “Take care of them till I can catch up,” I added.
His eyes grew serious for a moment, “That will always go without saying.”
I watched until they had driven completely out of sight, before turning back to the door of the house. It gaped open, staring at me blackly, and I felt a feeling of dread wash over me. The feeling was helped not at all by the dissonant sound of death, which had been omnipresent since we had arrived in Albamarl. At home in Castle Cameron it tended to vary, growing louder more frequently at night, but here it had remained strongly present the entire time. While I was beginning to get used to it, much like the voice of the earth, I still had no clue why it sometimes seemed louder and closer than at other times.
It couldn’t possibly be anything good, I thought as I stepped through the doorway.
Chapter 40
We had only brought a couple of servants with us, and my first task after Penny and the others were gone, was to give them the day off, with instructions to return that evening.
With that done, I went to the bedroom and changed into what I called my ‘traveling’ garb. I had been wearing more formal clothes, the sort I’d be expected to have on if I were on my way to an audience with the king. My traveling clothes, by contrast were simple and functional, pretty much the same sort of thing I wore when busy in my workshop; trousers, boots, and a heavy wool overtunic. The main difference was the inclusion of my staff, my belt of pouches and a cloak. I didn’t bother with the cloak since I was indoors.
The important distinction was the fact that I was ready for trouble.
Standing at the head of the stairs leading down into the bedrock beneath the house, I was filled with trepidation. My fear had become so strong it seemed almost a physical thing, palpable and unrelenting. To distract myself, I mentally reviewed my preparations.
I had called the dragon early that morning, commanding him to remain hidden somewhere within a few minutes flight of the capital. The figurine had provided no mental feedback though, so I couldn’t be sure he had heard my instructions. Calling on Gareth Gaelyn for backup had seemed like overkill, but my fear made me excessively cautious.
I had my staff and pouches, which provided easy access to a wide variety of magical aids, devices, and weapons; everything from my iron bombs to the new flying device I had created. With those things and my own experience and abilities, I could confidently handle anything up to and including one of the shining gods. What could I possibly have to fear?
The house was empty, so come what may, I shouldn’t be endangering any innocent lives, unless whatever was down there was so terrible that it drove me into the streets. What will she think when she finds that two thousand years have passed? The thought passed through my mind almost unnoticed. Mentally I grabbed at it and once again found myself empty handed. She… could it be the woman from my dream?
“If that’s the case my greatest danger might be Penny,” I muttered to myself with a half-smile. Gathering my courage, I descended the stairs until they reached the level space at the bottom, and there I faced the stone door.
The air was taut with tension, and the dissonance I had come to associate with death grew to the point that I found it difficult to concentrate. Interestingly it seemed to be strongest behind me, rather than before me, where the door lay. It was as if the grim reaper himself was looking over my shoulder.
“I’ve probably defied Lady Luck and pissed off Mother Nature so many times, that they’ve sent their boyfriend Death to collect me,” I said aloud, though there was no one to laugh at my joke.
Ignoring the distractions, I focused my magesight on the door, seeking any hint of patterns or runes. The last time I had examined it I had had no knowledge of concealing enchantments, so I now had a better idea why I had sensed nothing beyond the door. As before, I sensed nothing, nothing but stone and more stone. It went on for at least forty feet in every direction, featureless and unchanging, before I noticed a difference. At some point beyond forty feet the stone became less homogenous, more varied and flawed, with frequent cracks and occasional changes in its composition.
The conclusion was obvious. The area behind the door was entirely cloaked in an enchantment, making it appear to be solid stone, when in fact it probably contained a room. Why put a door here then? That’s a dead giveaway that something lies beyond, I thought to myself, unless the purpose was merely to conceal the room from some powerful outside observer. I shook my head, I really had no way to know at this point, and further speculation was pointless.
“Open!” I said loudly, wondering if it might be something so simple. Nothing happened.
Focusing my perception closely on the door immediately in front of me, I tried to find the runes that created the concealing enchantment. Generally such inscriptions would be small, and by their very nature hard to perceive unless you were looking for them. If anyone could find them though, it would be me. My family invented enchanting, after all.
I found nothing.
I was beginning to consider trying force, but a random thought stopped me. Why had no other Illeniel wizard opened the door? I couldn’t be the first to wonder at what lay behind it. Unless they already knew, I thought. It might have been the sort of thing taught to each generation, something I might have known if I had received the same instruction every other wizard in my family had been given. My gut told me it was more than that, however. They couldn’t open the door.
“But you can,” said the voice of the earth, startling me. The words were a product of my own mind, but the meaning had come across clearly. While I heard the voice of the earth constantly, it was rare for it to direct anything resembling meaningful communication to me, unless I spoke to it first.
This door required an archmage to open. The conclusion was obvious, and I was surprised it had taken me so long to realize. Otherwise they would have taken her. Again I caught myself thinking strange thoughts, and I wished I could force the back of my mind to give me the knowledge I needed, but as soon as I focused upon it, my fear drove the secrets into darkness.
Ignoring my doubts and confusion, I opened my mind and began to listen, allowing myself to fall into a deeper rapport with the earth. What I discovered amazed me, for the stone behind and around the door seemed to have a separate identi
ty. While it was still technically a part of the earth, it held a portion of itself apart, as if it had been given an ego or a ‘self’. Not only was it separate, but it was deceiving me, projecting an image of itself as solid and whole, obscuring the truth behind an illusion.
Show me the truth, I ordered.
The stone responded immediately, None but my master can command me.
He is gone. I am his descendant and inheritor of his will, I told it, and then I put my hand against the stone door, lowering my shield and allowing the stone to come into full contact with my flesh.
Suddenly the illusion vanished, and I could see the room within, while simultaneously the door itself slid aside so that I could enter.
The room was twenty feet in diameter, circular and empty, except for the object in its center, an open stone sarcophagus. The scene was intimately familiar, for I had known what I would find here, just as I knew that the object in the middle of the room was no sarcophagus, it held a living creature.
Stepping closer I looked down upon her, Lyralliantha, the last of her kind, trapped eternally within a stasis enchantment. The woman inside was the most beautiful I had ever beheld, barring my encounter with the goddess Millicenth, and I discounted that immediately. The gods cheated. Her hair was silver, not simply white, but possessing an almost metallic shimmer, and while her eyes were closed, I knew that if they had been open they would have been an icy blue, just like all the children of her grove.
She was clad in a soft white gown that reached past her knees before revealing the smooth skin of her lower legs. Her hands and feet were slender and graceful, with short well-kept nails. Other than her unusual hair color and exceptional beauty, there was nothing that might have indicated her alien nature, except for her delicately pointed ears. Her eye color was slightly unusual, but it fell within the normal range of human color, in fact it was similar in hue to my own eyes.
Illeniel’s promise rose up in my mind, the words of my long dead ancestor, “This is the only way I can save your people. Rest here and I will return to release you… once it is safe again. I give you my word, I will return for you.” Except that he hadn’t.
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