“It’s some kind of storage room,” she whispered as she looked at the stacks of furniture. “Just put him on the floor.”
HawkShadow deposited the still form on the floor and the Sakovans returned to the hallway and their search for stairs. The new corridor appeared much like the last and StarWind stopped to ponder which way would be more likely to contain stairs.
“At the end of this corridor will be the front of the building,” HawkShadow whispered. “We must have missed the back stairs somehow. Either that or there aren’t any.”
“There must be,” frowned StarWind. “Let’s head back the way we came. I do not want to risk the front of the building. There will surely be guards there even at night.”
HawkShadow nodded in agreement and they started retracing their steps back the way they had come. He moved swiftly but silently with StarWind right behind him. They passed the door of the room they had used to gain entrance into the hallway and continued along the torch-lit corridor. HawkShadow halted abruptly in front of a door and StarWind had to brace herself on the wall to avoid colliding with him. He reached out and turned the doorknob and eased the door open. With a grin he nodded to StarWind and proceeded through the door.
“All of the other doors were evenly spaced apart,” explained HawkShadow as he started up the stairs. “This would have had to have been a pretty small room if it wasn’t stairs.”
They reached the third floor and emerged into another hallway, but this one had fewer doors than the downstairs corridor. “Now what?” HawkShadow quizzed.
StarWind glanced in each direction. There were only a few doors along the hall facing the outside of the building and the inside of the building was void of openings except for the door they had exited.
“My guess is that his suite takes up most of the floor,” mused StarWind. “We need to find a door towards the center of the building. Do you want to split up?”
“No,” HawkShadow replied softly. “Pick a direction.”
StarWind nodded and headed in the same direction they had gone downstairs. Again they came to an intersection of corridors, but this new corridor halted abruptly at a door.
“This must be it,” she whispered as she tried the doorknob.
The knob turned and she eased the door open to reveal darkness. The corridor continued for a short distance, but no torches lit the way. The Sakovans crept forward in the dark and came to another corridor. StarWind led the way as they proceeded through the suite and came to a stop before a set of ornate doors. She looked to HawkShadow and he just shrugged. Silently her hand went to the doorknob and turned it. She felt a whisper of wind as she entered the large bedroom, which was illuminated with a pale light. She looked up and saw a skylight, its panes open to the night air.
“It might have been easier that way,” grinned HawkShadow softly.
StarWind shook her head and surveyed the room. A huge bed occupied the far wall and she could only detect one person in it. Two other doors led off from the room and they were both closed. She motioned to HawkShadow and he moved towards one of the doors while StarWind approached the bed. She studied the sleeping form briefly as she heard HawkShadow tapping wedges under the doors to make sure they remained closed. Finally, she looked around for a dark place to stand in. Next to a tall hanging closet was a patch of blackness and StarWind merged into it and nodded to HawkShadow.
HawkShadow circled the bed so that the Mayor was between StarWind and himself. With a sudden move, HawkShadow rolled the Mayor’s body to face StarWind and placed a knife to the man’s throat.
“Now that we have your attention,” HawkShadow whispered, “we want to talk with you. We do not intend any harm to you, but if you try to call the guards, I fear that we will do what we must to escape.”
“And will you do what you must when you are done talking?” the Mayor blustered.
“Actually,” HawkShadow smiled, “I was kind of hoping that you would help us leave after the talk. We have not come to do harm, rather we have come to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. We believe you would desire the same.”
“Who are you?” questioned the Mayor. “And what do you want?”
“If you agree to talk with us and to remain so that you cannot see me,” offered HawkShadow, “I will let you sit up without the presence of my knife at your throat. Are you agreeable?”
“I have little choice in the matter it would appear,” conceded Mayor Ferde. “Besides I am curious why someone would sneak into my house to speak with me. You have my attention and I will not call the guards unless I feel threatened again.”
“Fair enough,” StarWind stated from her position of concealment. “We really mean no harm to you. We tried to see you officially, but I am afraid we were denied.”
“The Imperial Guards have suggested that I see nobody who is unknown to me,” returned the Mayor as he tried to see into the darkness where StarWind was hiding. “There is a fear of assassination roiling through the country since the Katana’s death. It appears that the Sakovans will finally show their true colors.”
“You are quite correct,” chuckled StarWind, “but the colors you see will surprise you. The troubles in Omunga are not due to the Sakovans, Mayor Ferde. In fact, the reason for our visit is to explain just that to you. We are Sakovans.”
An audible gasp escaped from the Mayor’s lips and StarWind could see him quiver. “You and the rest of Omunga have been fed a load of clova chips,” StarWind continued. “The attack on the watula fields was the work of an Omungan, a man named Harac. He was merely a hired hand, but we know who hired him. His job was to make you believe that the Sakovans had burned your fields.”
“How do you know this?” asked Mayor Ferde. “Who is behind it and why should I believe you?”
“The proof resides in your own Records Bureau at the Imperial Headquarters here,” answered StarWind. “As for who is behind it, I am afraid that you will find the answer displeasing, for it is the same person responsible for the Katana’s death.”
“Malafar?” asked Ferde as he tried to peer into the darkness to see StarWind. “Why would he want our fields burned?”
“Malafar was a dupe,” explained StarWind. “He was forcibly abducted from his Academy and drugged until he could be controlled by the true aggressor.”
“You speak craziness,” Ferde said, shaking his head. “You expect me to believe that all of these things are somebody else’s fault? What do you hope to gain by this charade?”
StarWind tossed a folder onto the bed. “Read that,” she instructed. “The details of the raid on Campanil were copied from your own official reports. The proprietor of the Hog’s Tail can tell you about Harac. If you have enough clout in the Capital, you can inquire of the guards at the mage cell block about Malafar’s confinement and release.”
Mayor Ferde struggled to read the papers in the dim light and was slightly shaken when HawkShadow handed him a candle and allowed him to light it. For some time the Sakovans were silent while the Mayor read the reports. Ferde occasionally emitted grunts of surprise or shook his head with disbelief. Finally, he laid the papers on the bed beside him.
“A fairy tale,” he concluded. “Even if these facts are correct, you are expecting me to believe that the First Minister would destroy his own country to gain his advancement. It doesn’t make sense. We found people murdered in those fields with Sakovan stars. How do you explain that?”
The night air sang as StarWind’s star flew across the room and imbedded in the post of the Mayor’s bed. “Look at a real Sakovan star,” she suggested. “You read the report describing the stars found on the bodies. All Sakovan stars have five points, and only five points, because they represent the Pentagon of Life for Sakovans. Our religion is based on the five Principles of Kaltara. Harac was not very efficient in his masquerade.”
Ferde pulled the star out of the bedpost and examined it. “Alright,” he conceded, “suppose I buy into the fact that the fire was not set by Sakovans. It is still hard to believe
that Alazar would do this. He is the Katana now and I could not go against him if I wanted to. What is it you expect me to do?”
“I am not sure,” admitted StarWind. “We do not want war with Omunga and we know that you are one of the vocal voices calling for it. Alazar is only too happy to hear you shout for war. We need to remove Alazar from power because he will not stop until he gets his war, but we need to do so in such a fashion that the Omungan people are not offended. Our war is with Alazar only and not the Omungans. Do you understand?”
“It is obvious that you believe the facts you have presented to me,” agreed Ferde, “and so I believe your intentions. I will not take part in killing the Katana even if you are right though. I still must check out these facts before I am convinced of the truth of what you are presenting.”
“Understandable,” nodded StarWind although the Mayor could not see her. “I ask for nothing more than your honest investigation and a halt to calling for war with us until you are satisfied with the results.”
“You have presented a rather compelling case,” admitted the Mayor, “and at great risk to yourself. I will check it out thoroughly.”
“Excellent,” smiled StarWind. “I have heard that you are honest and will accept you at your word. The Sakovan people have given a gift to the people of Campanil to help alleviate their hunger in the coming winter. We have brought forty wagons of watula to Campanil to replace what you have lost in the fire. We hope it will serve your people well.”
“Forty wagons?” echoed Ferde with obvious surprise. “How? Where?” “How much?” he added with a frown.
“There is no cost,” laughed StarWind. “It is stored in the buildings of one of the farms that was burned. I suggest you keep its location secret until you can safely bring it into the city, otherwise people may riot when they learn of it. I have a personal gift for you as well. There is man named Klaarg who has worked for Alazar doing his dirty deeds. We have heard that he can be found in Gatong. If you were to have him arrested by troops loyal to you, I am sure that he can tell you much more about Alazar’s plot than I can.”
Silence fell over the room for a while as the Mayor digested the information StarWind had presented. Finally he nodded his head in satisfaction. “Very well,” he stated. “I accept the grain with great gratitude on behalf of the people of Campanil. I will cease my calls for war and discourage others from doing so while I investigate your claims. I will have this Klaarg arrested and interrogated as well. If your story bears out, I will do whatever I can to see that war does not come, but I will not raise a hand against the Katana.”
“If you find our story true,” pushed StarWind, “will you call for war if we truly do assassinate the current Katana? If the Omungans refuse to remove him from power, then we must, for he will not stop his plans short of our annihilation.”
The Mayor shook his head vigorously. “I do not want to know of your plans for assassination,” he scowled. “I love Omunga and therefore must support my Katana. Do not ask these things of me because I cannot give them.”
“I am not asking your permission,” corrected StarWind. “You and the rest of Omunga have been fed a lot of nonsense about what the Sakovans have done. If the Omungans refuse to act against Alazar though, we must, and that will lend credence to the lies already spread. Those who seek war will have a stronger voice then. I would prefer that you remove Alazar yourself after you are convinced of his deeds, but at least do not allow a war to come out of it if we must do it. This man has stolen your country.”
“I need time to think on this,” frowned Ferde. “First I must verify your story. I warn you, if it is false, expect me to lead the charge to war. If it is true, however, I will lead the charge towards peace. As for Alazar, I do not know. If he has assassinated the old Katana, then he deserves to die, whether he used Malafar or not. Give me time to dwell on this.”
“Fair enough,” conceded StarWind. “You can get word to me through the bulletins. If you will help quell the calls for war afterwards, run an advertisement asking for a translator. If no advertisement appears, I will know your answer. Now can you help get us out of here or must we sneak out as we came in?”
“I will get you out,” Ferde stated as he scribbled a note on a pad he picked up from his nightstand. “This will explain that you were guests here and that you are leaving early to travel to Okata. It will get you past the guards out front. I trust they are all still alive?”
“Yes,” sighed StarWind. “There is a man on the second floor locked in a storage room, but he has nothing more than a headache. I apologize for hitting him, but we did need to see you.”
Ferde nodded as he handed the note and star over his shoulder to HawkShadow. “I would like to meet you in person someday when this is all over,” he said pleasantly. “You believe in Sakova as I believe in Omunga and your courage has been shown. There might be much we can share.”
“Perhaps that will happen,” StarWind smiled. “Please lie face down while we leave.”
Chapter 36
Into Thin Air
The spoon spun around swiftly, gyrating like a top, as it cast reflections of brilliant sunlight around the field and across the buildings near the practice field.
“Too fast,” cautioned Temiker. “You do not need that much energy. You are shouting at it; try whispering.”
Lyra pressed her lips tightly together as she eased the energy flow to the metal spoon that spun on the table forty paces away. Slowly the spinning subsided.
“Good,” nodded Temiker. “Hold that energy level and move the spoon to the edge of the table. Remember, whisper.”
Lyra did not acknowledge her mage uncle as she complied with his instructions. Slowly and smoothly the spoon slid towards the nearer edge of the table and hung precipitously at the edge.
“Now,” Temiker continued, “call it home, but gently.”
Lyra nodded and the spoon fell off the table as she interrupted her concentration. Realizing that she had allowed her thoughts to sway from her task, she tried desperately to correct the situation and summoned the spoon to her as she stretched out her hand to catch it. Temiker dove at Lyra and pushed her to the ground as the spoon came flying towards her like an arrow.
Temiker rose and helped Lyra to her feet and began brushing the dust off his robe. “Much too much energy,” he sighed. “That spoon would go right through your body with that much force. You must learn to use just enough energy to accomplish the task and no more. You are far too powerful for your own good.”
“Sorry,” Lyra replied sheepishly. “Guess I have too much on my mind. Let’s break for a while.”
“Definitely a good idea,” nodded Temiker. “This old body is not used to diving through the air anymore. I must learn to get more physical exercise if I am to keep dodging your mistakes.”
“You move pretty well,” chuckled Lyra. “Thanks, Uncle Temiker. You have the patience of Kaltara with me.”
Temiker smiled at Lyra and shook his head. “I would have loved to have you as my student all these years. I never knew the potential of your power. I doubt Malafar knew either.”
“How is he doing?” questioned Lyra.
“Good and bad,” Temiker replied, brushing the dirt out of his beard. “LifeTender has put him on a diet of swamp grasses and herbs to leech the drug out of his body. He absolutely hates it, but surprisingly he has accepted her direction. I think it is doing wonders for him. Some of that old sparkle is back in his eyes. He does not appear to be bothered by fits of confusion anymore and is actually quite lucid in his comments and discussions.”
“That is wonderful,” smiled Lyra. “I don’t see anything bad in that. What concerns you?”
Temiker motioned to Lyra and walked over to a bench alongside the building. Lyra followed him and sat next to him, trying to anticipate what was troubling her uncle.
“Now that he thinks clearly,” Temiker began, “he sees what a fool he has been. I think Lord Marak opened his eyes at the strategy meeting
to the real character of the Sakovan people, a race he has been taught to hate since his youth. He knows now that the government lied to him. He knows that Alazar used him to further his own career and the burden of this knowledge is eating away at him.”
“Do you think he could possibly take his own life?” inquired Lyra. “Could he? Would he?”
“I don’t know,” admitted the old mage. “Malafar has always believed in one path to anything he has done, even when we were children. Once he sees a solution to his current dilemma, he throws all of his effort into it. There is never a second guess on his part; no reasoning once his mind is made up.”
“Should I assign bodyguards for him?” Lyra asked as she chewed absently on her lower lip.
“No,” Temiker answered quickly. “That would send the wrong signal and might give rise to thoughts that do not really exist. I do not know that he is contemplating suicide. I have been wracking my brain to figure out what he will do with this new knowledge. With Rhodella gone, I know him better than anyone alive and I cannot fathom what his reaction is going to be. That is what disturbs me.”
“And with Rhodella gone and his daughter anointed as the leader of a nation where he is not comfortable living, he has little to go back to in his life,” surmised Lyra. “I see where your apprehension is coming from. So how do we protect him from himself or even determine if we need to?”
“He is talking to me again,” offered Temiker, “but he still will not confide in me. I think that may take some time. Perhaps if you spoke with him at length, you could find out what he is thinking better than I.”
“Then I shall do so immediately,” Lyra decided. “Find him and bring him to my office. I think we should deal with this right away. There has been enough bloodshed in this family already and I am not going to lose my father again.”
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