Phoenix in Shadow

by Ryk E. Spoor

  “Does it matter?” Kyri asked. “My sworn duty is to protect and aid any in trouble anyway; even if we aren’t your Shades and Hues, we’ll still be willing to help anyone who needs our assistance.”

  “My duties are much the same, as a magewright instructed by Lady Shae herself,” Hiriista admitted. “Then we may consider ourselves just such a patrol, in spirit if not in fact.”

  “I’m betting that troubles are most common at the midpoints between the main cities,” Tobimar said. “Given what you’ve all mentioned about the way in which the cities grew and all.”

  “You are correct, of course. And sometimes the problems are purely . . . internal. While none of us like to think of other people being capable of evil, it does still happen on occasion, especially farther away from the great cities.”

  “Well,” Poplock said, “We’ll hear about it if we hear about it, I guess. In the meantime, I’ve got a lot of questions that I haven’t been able to ask!”

  They all laughed. “I am sure you do, Master Toad,” Hiriista said, still chuckling like a clockwork whistle running down. “But the ones I think you are most interested in must wait until this evening.” He took in Kyri and Tobimar with his glance as well. “We will have much to discuss, I think.”

  Was there something else in his voice . . . a warning?

  “I’m sure we will,” she answered, feeling a new hint of caution and disquiet rising within her. “I’m sure we will.”

  CHAPTER 22

  “Gemcalling,” Hiriista began, “is a combination of one’s personal magic, alchemy, symbolism, and the channeling of power outside oneself.”

  “Whoo. Sounds complicated,” Poplock said. The four of them were seated near the cookfire; Tobimar and Kyri were taking turns watching the food as it cooked, but they were old hands at this sort of thing and clearly didn’t need to focus much attention on it.

  “Complicated in concept, yes, and challenging if you do not understand the methods and requirements, but not terribly complicated in practice if you have the requisite tools. First, you need to have the basic talent for magic; I understand this is true of you, perhaps less so for your friends.”

  Poplock glanced up at Kyri and Tobimar, who nodded. “I was told I could be a . . . mediocre wizard, depending on what path I chose,” Kyri said. “A decent summoner, maybe. Tobimar?”

  “My . . . master,” Tobimar said, “told me that I had considerable magical potential but my best course did not lie in that direction. I guess I use some of that in the practice of my other skills, the combat arts he taught me.”

  Poplock knew that Tobimar was talking about the manipulative magician Konstantin Khoros; given reactions to that name elsewhere, he didn’t blame Tobimar for evading that potential pitfall. “So yeah, I’ve got pretty good magical talent and I’ve been learning a lot about it,” he said. “What would I have to learn to be a Gemcaller?”

  “You will need a Tai Syrowin, a Calling Array, first,” the mazakh answered, with a teeth-baring smile that seemed a challenge.

  With that hint, plus the name of the discipline, Poplock understood. “Ha!” He bounced over and pulled on the various pieces of jewelry Hiriista wore. “Can I borrow one of them, then?”

  “Excellent. You grasp the meaning instantly. Not all of these are Calling Arrays, but many are. Yes, I in fact have thought about this and I do have one Array that I may give you.” From a pouch Hiriista took a bright silver-and-gold ring with an empty setting for a large gem—Poplock guessed it would hold a gem between ten and fifteen carats—and handed it to the Toad.

  Studying the ring up close, Poplock could see several unusual features. The setting itself was complex, with magic he could easily sense; by pushing at the prongs with his various tools and concentrating his own magic into the tools, he quickly realized that the setting was designed to accommodate gems of virtually any shape meeting the size limitations. The prongs themselves had tiny lines of a brilliant blue tinged with gold—a color that made him blink, then bounce over to check out Kyri’s Raiment. He glanced up. “Thyrium. There are thyrium channels through that ring.”

  The crest drooped and rose in appreciation. “A very good eye you have, Poplock. Yes, the thyrium channels are an integral part of the Calling Array, providing a link and channel between your own power and that of the selected gem.”

  “Ooo, so you need magical gems to do this?”

  “Yes. I am not sure I have—”

  “Maybe we do. Tobimar?”

  “What am I, a bank vault?” his friend said humorously. From its usual place under his outer clothing, Tobimar produced his secure pouch of gems that he had brought with him from Skysand—a country with a widespread reputation for the variety and quality of gemstones it produced. He poured the contents onto one of the plates they already had out.

  Hiriista gave an appreciative hiss that approximated a whistle. “I was unaware you carried such wealth on you.”

  Tobimar gave a wry grin. “I don’t advertise it. Unwise in most places. So, would any of these do?”

  The mazakh magewright bent over the sparkling mound. “For beauty, these would be nigh-unmatched. For power . . .” He dug through the gems carefully for a few moments, then bobbed in decision. “This. An Ocean’s Tear, I think?”

  The large, teardrop-cut gemstone was a beautiful blue-green and shimmered with light of the same shade, rippling like the ocean on a sunlight day. “Yes, one of the best I’ve seen,” Tobimar said.

  “This will be ideal.”

  “Hey,” Poplock said. “How do you know what an ocean is? I mean, all you’ve got is that big lake there.”

  Hiriista’s hiss was a laugh. “Do not discount Enneisolaten so swiftly; it is an inland sea, in a way. And while it is true we have never seen such a thing as an ocean, some ancient stories and tales remain which speak of such things . . . and the names for these stones echo those legends, I think. Now, to our business again. As one might expect, this stone’s power will be related to water. Can you fit it into your Array?”

  It took Poplock several minutes—he was unfamiliar with the exact mechanism, and it was obviously intended for use by people with larger, stronger fingers—but eventually he was rewarded with a snap! sound and the blue-green gem was securely set in the ring. Immediately he could see a faint shimmer of ocean-colored light rippling along the thyrium traces and even glimmering on the inside surface of the ring.

  Hiriista picked it up and noted the same phenomena approvingly. “Well set, and the Array has already synchronized to it nicely.”

  “So, how do I use it?” Poplock slid the ring onto his upper arm, where it fit fairly well. He could feel a tingling sensation, a ripple of mystical force.

  “Not that simple, no, my friend. We will have to teach you to become attuned to the Array, and then to the stone itself. We will work on this, and I am sure it will not take overly long, but it will not be done this evening.”

  Kyri looked at the ring and then at the multiple other gem-inset objects Hiriista carried. “So once attuned, what can you do with gemcalling?”

  “Many things—perhaps not as many as a . . . free-standing spellcaster could do, if such were able to explore their full capabilities, but many. Here, allow me to demonstrate with a gem similar to that which your friend has.”

  Hiriista stood and raised one clawed arm; a green stone on his bracelet suddenly blazed with emerald fire, which rose up and became a wave of deep sea-green that thundered outward, raging through the forest, toppling smaller trees and stripping larger ones of their bark, scouring the ground bare, an unstoppable raging torrent that ended as abruptly as it had begun.

  Oh, ouch! That would have hurt! “That’s impressive!”

  Hiriista bowed; his own body language indicated slight embarrassment. “Well, yes, but I have practiced for many years indeed, and I have been attuned to that gem for over a decade; we are old friends, one might say. In addition to such crude offensive capabilities, different gems may protect, enhanc
e, or heal. That was what we call an Essential Call—it calls forth a force based on the essence of the gem. If I attuned myself differently to that or a similar gem, I could use an Essential Call to bring it forth as an enhancement to let me travel unimpeded through water, or to heal and rejuvenate those who are tired or injured.”

  “And what are the other kind of calls?” Poplock asked.

  “Summoning Calls. Not the same as the work practiced by actual summoners, who bargain with various beings and spirits—you understand?” At Poplock’s nod, Hiriista went on, “Good. A Summoning Call is in a sense similar to an Essential, but the gemcaller is not trying to call out the essence of, oh, the overt elemental or magical force, but a personification of the force within, and usually for that you need something that has a connection to the personification. You are familiar with suncore?”

  “Mystical amber,” Tobimar said promptly. “Either formed from the sap of some extremely rare trees, or from ordinary resin exposed to extraordinary magical forces. It’s rare and hard to work.”

  “Precisely so. It turns out that, just as ordinary amber may trap objects and even insects within it, suncore can trap a mystical . . . trace, or echo, or remnant, of a power that manifests nearby. This may be a representation of a powerful animal, a nature spirit, or something more powerful. You can call forth that echo and have it assist you for a short time.”

  “Wow. So if you had a piece of suncore that was at, oh, a battle between two gods . . .”

  “It is possible, yes, that you would then have something from which you could call an echo of a god to your service. Summoning gems such as that are, of course, rare—”

  “I would think so!”

  “—but the more valuable and sought after for all that.” He tapped a necklace, on which was a large golden drop of glowing amber. “This is one of the few I have ever seen, and I am privileged to be allowed to carry it with me; it is one of the strategic treasures of Kaizatenzei, for within this drop slumbers a fragment of the essence of Shargamor.”

  Poplock dropped the tools he was putting back into their case, and he heard Kyri gasp. Tobimar, who had just been testing one of the dishes he was preparing, managed to gasp part of a spoonful into his lungs and spent the next minute coughing it back out. “A piece of a GOD?”

  “An echo of the great power, yes. Not his equal in any way, but nonetheless a tremendous force to have at hand. I have very rarely had cause to use it; I hope I shall never have such cause again.”

  Poplock looked with new respect at the assortment of jewelry. Would never have thought it was so powerful. “Well, I have to say, I’m that much more excited about learning this!”

  “And I cannot blame you. We shall work on it over the next few weeks, and I am sure you will come to grasp it quickly.” He turned his gaze to Kyri. “But I have my own questions as well, and now that we are alone, it is important that we talk.”

  His eyes were narrow and focused, and held very much the essence of the hunter that was the nature of a mazakh. “So tell me, Phoenix: why were you so wary, this morning, of Shade Danrall?”

  CHAPTER 23

  Tobimar saw Kyri freeze, and her posture alone showed that Hiriista’s question had struck home. For his part, Tobimar was mystified. He hadn’t noticed anything to be wary of—although, to be fair, he hadn’t been looking hard this morning. They had been pretty sure that whatever they were looking for wasn’t in the immediate area.

  A quick glance at Poplock, and the little Toad gave a whole-body shrug. He didn’t notice anything either.

  Finally Kyri took a deep breath. “I suppose it would be useless to pretend I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  A faint hiss of amusement. “I am afraid that you are not terribly good at hiding your surprise, no. Perhaps you can dissemble well when prepared—I know several such—but without warning, no.” The hunting look was back. “So, Phoenix, will you answer my question?”

  The embarrassed tone when she answered told Tobimar that even without the firelight Kyri’s already dark cheeks would have been touched with rose. “It was just a . . . stupid impression. Probably nothing.”

  “Then it does not matter if you tell me.”

  She looked around, then smiled sheepishly. “I suppose not. There really isn’t much more to it, to be honest. I just felt there was something . . . off about him.” She paused, lips pursed, and he could almost see her mind working.

  “All his words and overt actions were exactly what I would have expected from my brief contact with him,” she said finally, “and my prior contacts—when we first arrived, and later at the party—didn’t have this funny feel to them. But this morning . . . it felt almost as though he was playing himself, an extremely good actor, but one who was really much more competent and controlled, not confused or innocent or overawed or any of those things.”

  Hiriista let out a long, satisfied hiss and bobbed his head. “Precisely so. You have the instinct, young Phoenix; you just have no training that tells you why your instinct says what it does.” He glanced down to Poplock. “Do you comprehend what I am saying?”

  Poplock closed one eye, wrinkling his face, and then the eye snapped open. “Ohhh. What we talked about before. The language of the body.”

  “Correct. I have never met anyone else who noticed—or, to be more precise, who would admit to noticing this . . . anomaly; I believe that there are a few others who have, but they, like myself, have been afraid to speak of it, for it seems so impossible that there could be something wrong with these, our protectors. Yet I have seen it many times, a subtle—a terribly subtle—shift in posture, in facing, in the way an arm is held, a spine straightened, a head tilted, and suddenly one of the Colors seems not himself at all to me, even though not a single word or action is obviously out of place. And often this happens shortly before they go on a patrol or mission.”

  “You said one of the Colors,” Tobimar said. Hiriista bared some of his teeth in a humorless grin as Tobimar went on, “but Danrall is a Shade. Are you implying . . .”

  “I imply nothing. I have seen this behavior in Colors, Hues, and Shades. Not—so far—in the Lights, but in honesty I will say that my contact with the Lights other than Miri has been limited.”

  Kyri looked more carefully at their companion. “Why do you bring this up? Why tell us, rather than Miri, for example?”

  “Well, first,” the mazakh said with a note of grim relief in his voice, “because until now I had found no confirmation of my senses. I am, perhaps, by far the most sensitive person in Kaizatenzei to such things, but that meant I had no one to compare my impressions with—at least, no one who would dare speak to me of these impressions. You, as independent forces with no knowledge of anything here, were perfect subjects. The fact that you instantly picked up on the same anomaly . . . that is tremendously important.

  “Secondly, the mystery appears to touch upon most of our guardian forces. If it has not affected the Lights, I cannot discount the possibility that it will affect them—whatever it is. Yet who could I possibly find that would be formidable enough to survive the investigation—if there indeed is something wrong—and not already a part of the potential problem? Few other people of such skill and power are found here in Kaizatenzei who are not part of these forces.” He gestured around the camp. “But you three . . . ahh, you are outsiders, unique, unknown, but—I now know from both my own observations and those of Lady Shae—of good heart and will. Thus I trust you, and hope you will trust me.”

  “Not to be a complete cynic,” Poplock said, “but how do you know you can trust Lady Shae’s judgment?”

  Hiriista looked momentarily offended, then laughed, a hiss that echoed through the forest. “I suppose I should consider even that possibility . . . but no. In this case her judgment merely affirmed my own, and she had no way of knowing what I was looking for. I have my own ways of judging people, as you know. If she herself is the source, or a victim, she was not subject to it at that moment, and so
I trust her senses; you are not agents of destruction but protectors.”

  Tobimar had been thinking while they spoke, and he didn’t like where his thoughts were taking him. “If you’ve seen this on three of the four levels of your . . .”

  “. . . Tenzeitalacor, or Unity Guard,” Hiriista supplied helpfully.

  “. . . Unity Guard, yes. If you’ve seen this on three of the four levels, is it your assumption that it affects most, if not all, of the people on those three levels—that is, most or all of the Colors, Hues, and Shades?”

  “It is. I have seen it frequently enough that if I make some basic assumptions—drawn from my experiences—about how often the situations occur that cause this shift, then at least eighty percent of the Tenzeitalacor below the Lights are affected.”

  Tobimar nodded slowly. “I guess the next question is . . . do you have any reason to believe this is actually a problem?”

  Hiriista opened his mouth to reply, and then stopped, his mouth still hanging open for several seconds before he slowly closed it, hissed, and then bobbed his head in a rocking motion before finally speaking. “I . . . confess that I do not, in fact, have any evidence that this is a problem. It feels wrong. I have no explanation for this that makes sense and is innocuous. Yet . . . no, I do not have any actual reason to believe that this anomaly is a problem, save only my own instincts.” He hissed again, a whistling chuckle, and his own posture was turned inward, embarrassed. “I find myself most discomfited by this realization.”

  “You’ve never confronted any of them when you felt this . . . difference.” It was a statement, not a question, and Kyri’s voice was deadly serious.

  “No . . . no, I have not. Both uncertainty and caution stayed me from that course of action.”

  “Instinct isn’t something to be disregarded,” Tobimar said. “If Phoenix sensed the same thing, and it made her uncomfortable too . . . ?”