Revelation: The Todor Trilogy, Book One

by Jenna Newell Hiott

  “Soman,” Keeper Stout muttered in a tone one would use to calm a wild beast.

  “Please, give me a smile before I go,” Numa said with desperation.

  Soman’s eyes met Numa’s and she saw that there was now a fire burning hot within them. He tipped his head back, opened his mouth and a deafening, anguished howl bellowed out of him. Then he reached out, put his hands around the top stone of the oil press and threw it as though it weighed nothing more than a pebble. The crowd that had gathered watched in awe as it sailed through the air in the direction of Carenvale until it became a tiny dot on the horizon and then disappeared altogether.

  No one moved nor breathed nor made a single sound. It had taken dozens of horses, men, ropes and ramps to maneuver that giant stone into its place on the oil press. And it required a team of no less than six strong men to roll it along while it smashed the oilberries. How was it possible that a single man could lift it up and throw it such a great distance that it could no longer be seen?

  “We have been blind far too long. It is time to accept the truth,” Keeper Clary said from the crowd. “Soman, you must leave us now.”

  Gemynd

  They had been on the road for three days before finally reaching Tolnick. Ruddy Tom had insisted on coming along to drive the cart, but Gemynd knew his real purpose for joining them. He had been instructed to make sure Gemynd went to his training and didn’t run off along the way. Besides Tom, Gemynd’s mother and Overseer Marta came as well.

  The journey to Tolnick had been uneventful. They took the road south from the bottom of the cliffs at Aerie and passed several small townships along the way. Gemynd’s mother had talked incessantly since they left, giving him every sort of advice imaginable. “Always keep your wits about you. You can’t trust people out here the way you can in Aerie. Just do your best at training so you can finish and come home as soon as possible. Don’t forget to eat. Keep your eyes and hands off other girls. No one in all of Todor is worth losing Numa for.” And on and on it went.

  By the end of the first day, Gemynd had learned how to nod at the right intervals without having to listen to her at all. Instead, he put his focus on trying to communicate with Numa the way he had just before he left. Somehow he’d managed to speak directly to her mind then, but he was unable to do it again. He would try and try, but he could feel that the thoughts were not being received. If only he could manage it, they would have a way to be together while he was gone.

  “We have reached the boundary,” Ruddy Tom said, pulling the horse to a stop.

  Gemynd looked around. He could see the great white tower of the Tolnick keep jutting into the sky from the center of the city beyond the wall. He could hear the hustle and bustle of people and carts and animals on the other side of the wall and he could smell them as well. “Are we not entering the city?” he asked. He had hoped to see Todor’s capital since he’d come this far.

  Tom shook his head. “No need,” he said brusquely.

  “Oh, son, come give me a hug,” Gemynd’s mother said and pulled him against her ample bosom. “I will miss you.”

  Gemynd pulled back to look at her face. “Are you leaving me here?” he asked, feeling suddenly afraid to be alone, though trying not to let it show.

  “I have to,” she said tearfully. “This is the boundary of the region of Terrenes. I am Terrene and so I cannot cross the boundary. This is why Marta has joined us. She is not Terrene and will escort you the rest of the way.”

  Gemynd felt a lump form in his throat and swallowed hard, trying to push it down. He forced a smile and wiped a tear from his mother’s cheek. “I will finish this bally training in no time,” he said, sounding confident. “And I will return to Aerie.”

  Ruddy Tom lifted a sack of provisions from the back of the cart and thrust it at Gemynd. “We shant dally,” he said. Gemynd took his cue and jumped from the cart, then helped Marta to the ground beside him.

  “Be Joyful,” his mother called as Tom turned the cart around.

  As they pulled away, Gemynd called out, “I love you, mother! Tell Numa I will return!”

  Gemynd and Marta stood by the side of the road until the cart carrying Tom and Molly rolled out of sight around a bend.

  “There is much you need to know,” Marta said and began walking on a small footpath that led south around the city wall.

  “Starting with the fact that you are a glinter,” Gemynd said.

  Marta nodded. “What you might not know is that there are three types of glinters: Iturtians, Zobanites and Empyreans. You and I are Iturtians, so named because our people come from Iturtia, a vast desert in the southeast part of Todor.”

  “Three types of glinters?” Gemynd asked. “What makes them different from each other?”

  “Their abilities,” Marta explained succinctly. Gemynd liked Marta’s ability to simply answer questions without having to use an excess of words.

  “Iturtians can move things with their minds,” Gemynd said.

  Again, Marta nodded. “Among other things, yes. The glinting abilities of Iturtians involve their minds. During your training, you will learn how to do amazing things with your mind.”

  “What about Zobanites and Empyreans?” Gemynd asked.

  “Zobanites have incredible powers of physical strength,” Marta explained and Gemynd immediately thought of Soman. “Empyreans are mysterious creatures that we know little about. They don’t generally involve themselves in the lives of Terrenes or other glinters. What we do know is that they are not bound by the physical laws of time and space and they have the ability to create. From an outsider’s perspective, their glinting powers seem to have no limits.”

  Gemynd wondered if the Deis were Empyreans.

  “This is the boundary between the region of Terrenes and the Iturtian desert,” a man bellowed. He stood before a small gate in a stone wall that ran east and west and appeared to stretch on forever. Large men on horses patrolled both sides of the wall. “Only Iturtians shall pass.”

  “We are Iturtians,” Marta replied to the man. “I am escorting a new student to his training.

  “I require proof,” the man said in a bored tone suggesting he had the same conversation several times a day.

  Marta nodded again and put her hands on her hips. Moments later the guard’s longknife lifted from his belt and fell to the ground. The man looked annoyed as he bent to retrieve it. “You may pass,” he mumbled.

  Gemynd and Marta walked through the gate just as a group of four travelers approached it from the Iturtian side.

  “This is the boundary between the Iturtian desert and the region of Terrenes,” the guard said to them. “You are permitted entry only to the city of Tolnick. If you are found beyond the city walls, you will be killed on sight. Do you acknowledge these terms?”

  “We do,” the travelers said in unison.

  Marta tugged on Gemynd’s tunic. “We’ve got a long walk ahead of us,” she said.

  “Iturtians are allowed in Tolnick?” he asked.

  “Tolnick is the capital of Todor and, as such, all inhabitants of Todor are allowed within its walls,” Marta answered. “It is the only place in Todor that is neutral, although traditionally Terrenes have always held the crown.”

  “Why is that?” Gemynd asked.

  Marta shook her head. “I do not know for sure. I have heard stories about the ancient times when the Deis resided in Todor. The stories say that each of the Deis represents one of the types of glinters. They did not wish to fight with each other over who should rule, so they created a race of people without the power to glint to reign over Todor.”

  “And in all of history, this arrangement has never been protested?”

  “Oh, certainly it has. As far as I remember learning, every war that was ever fought in Todor was because someone was trying to take the throne from the Terrenes.”

  “And if no one is on the throne now, who are the men guarding the walls?” Gemynd asked.

  “So far, it looks to me as
though they are men from all regions who wish to maintain order,” she answered cheerfully. Unlike his mother, Marta seemed eager to hear Gemynd’s questions. “It is a delicate time with no one ruling the land. One wrong choice and Todor will be plunged into war. I don’t think anyone wants that so, maintaining order seems to be common rule. Just as we have done in Aerie.”

  The path they followed led down a grass covered hill and at the bottom, the vast Iturtian desert spread out before them. There was more open space than Gemynd knew to exist in all of Todor. And it was all covered in red sand. Not a speck of vegetation nor drop of water could be seen. Just a sea of red sand.

  “Welcome to Iturtia,” Marta said and wrapped a cloth around her face and head so that only her eyes showed. “I don’t want to breathe the sand.”

  Gemynd wondered how far they would have to walk. There were no roads, no buildings, no landmarks of any kind. How would they know where they were going? And, more importantly, how would they know when they’d arrived? Was his training really to take place in the midst of all this sand? Gemynd glanced at Marta who trudged through the soft sand with purpose and he decided to trust that she knew what she was doing.

  After several hours of climbing up and over one sand hill after another, Marta said in a chipper voice, “Here we are!”

  Gemynd looked around in shock. “This is where I am to have training?” he asked, horrified. “Who could even survive here? There is no water, no shelter, nothing but sand.”

  Marta chuckled. “I am not your instructor, Gemynd, but here’s your first lesson,” she said. “Think.”

  Gemynd closed his eyes and let the machine that was his mind whirr to life. Think. What must exist for any type of instruction to take place? A student and a teacher. Marta just said she is not your teacher, so there must be more to what you see since there is a decided lack of people here. Gemynd looked around again, this time allowing his mind to lead the way. And then he spotted it: a small door in the side of a sand hill. It was exactly the same color red as the sand.

  Marta beamed. “You’ve got it!” she said, reaching out to squeeze his hands. “This is where I leave you.”

  Gemynd looked from the door to Marta and back again. How clever these Iturtians were. Every single student who came here must surely choose to enter the door rather than perish for certain in the wasteland of the Iturtian desert.

  “Thank you for escorting me,” Gemynd said and squeezed her hands in return.

  Marta smiled, but Gemynd saw that it was merely a mask for the worry that lay beneath and his stomach twisted in response.

  “Be strong of mind,” she said. “And you will do just fine.”

  Gemynd nodded. “Anything else I should know before I go in there?”

  “Banish Numa and Aerie from your mind,” she said, then quickly added, “Just for your time here. Focus only on the task before you. Think of nothing else but that.”

  Gemynd swallowed hard and turned to face the door. Right now, the task before him was to walk through that door. So, taking Marta’s advice, he did just that and didn’t look back.

  Inside the doorway was a long staircase that led straight down. The only light was provided by wall sconces that illuminated the blackness just enough to keep Gemynd from falling down the stairs. After several moments, Gemynd began counting. By the time he reached the landing, he had counted to seven hundred eighty six. He was deep into the center of the earth.

  A hallway stretched out before him with the same dim light as the stairs. The walls and floor were made of a dark, damp stone and Gemynd realized that the hallway itself had been carved out of this stone. He walked on, wondering if his training had already begun. Was the hallway a labyrinth? Was he being tested to find his way out?

  But soon he discovered it was just a hallway. And it opened into a grand chamber with very high ceilings, but not high enough that he could see any sky. He realized then that this whole place had been carved out of the earth itself and was entirely underground. There were sconces and oil lamps hanging from every available place to bring light into the dark space, but it was still only bright enough to make out shapes and outlines. There were dozens of people in the room, standing in small groups looking as though they were deep in conversation, but no one was saying a word.

  “Gemynd?” a voice asked from his left. Gemynd turned to see a short, round woman with a sharp beak for a nose. Even in the dim light, he could see that she had deep scars on one cheek. It made her look like an injured bird.

  “Yes?” he said.

  The woman looked taken aback. “You certainly do bear a striking resemblance,” she said.

  “To whom?”

  The woman waved her hands in the air and Gemynd wondered if she might take flight. “I am Hildegaard,” she introduced herself. “I am your level one instructor.”

  “I am Gemynd,” he replied. “I am Joyful to make your acquaintance. How many levels will there be?”

  “That is entirely up to you,” she said. “Many students only complete level one and find that to be satisfactory. But others choose to move on to level two. There is only one who has gone as far as level three.”

  “Who is that?” Gemynd asked.

  “The Director,” Hildegaard replied. “Now, please follow me.”

  Hildegaard walked to the center of the cavernous room and pointed at the floor. “This is the Community, or common, room,” she said then pointed in a circular motion above her head. “And those are the living quarters. Instructors on the top level, students below.”

  Gemynd looked up and realized that it wasn’t just that the room had a high ceiling, but it was ringed with level after level of railings that overlooked the common space below. And beyond each railing, was a ring of doorways; he counted twelve on each level. “It’s as though there is a city above us,” he mused.

  “And this is the well,” Hildegaard continued, pointing to a circular stone structure in the floor. “The water can be a bit sandy, but it’s good and cold. You are free to drink from it as you please.”

  “Even in the desert, water can be found if you dig far enough.”

  Not willing to comment on Gemynd’s attempts at conversation, Hildegaard plunged ahead. She pointed at a hallway across the room and said, “That leads to the stairway for the living quarters.” Then she began walking towards the back of the room. Gemynd saw that two hallways met there, branching off in opposite directions. Hildegaard took the one that went to left.

  “Down here is the library. This is where you will spend your recreation time. We have books on nearly every subject. Plenty to keep your mind sharp and busy.”

  Gemynd’s breath caught in his throat when they entered the library. It was a rectangular shaped room and was at least as long as the common room. It was five levels high and every wall was lined with books. Shelf after shelf after shelf of them. There had to have been thousands of books in that room.

  “I never knew this many books existed,” he said with awe. “We had eighty-threebooks in Aerie.”

  To this, Hildegaard chuckled. “Iturtians have been writing and collecting books for centuries. And they all end up here. This was the first room built in Iturtia. It was built in the ancient times, long before anyone had thought up the staircase. And so, as you see, you will have to move from one level to the next by ladder.”

  “I’m used to ladders,” he replied, still trying to absorb the sight of all those books.

  “This entire wall,” Hildegaard said as she pointed at the wall to the right of the entrance, “all three levels of it, has books about weaponry and warfare. Two of our favorite subjects. In the rest of the library, you will find books on history, industry, healing arts, animals, the list goes on and on.”

  Gemynd’s eyes widened. “You mean these books are not studies on the Book of Life?”

  Hildegaard shook her head and snickered. “Of course, I haven’t read them all, but I have never seen a study on the Book of Life among them. It’s possible there may be s
omething of that nature in the history section, though it’s unlikely.”

  Hildegaard turned on her heel and walked back to the common room. “That is the kitchen and workroom,” she said, pointing to the hallway that branched to the right. “You will have little occasion to go in there except for the rare times when you are permitted to eat.”

  Gemynd chuckled, trying to become accustomed to this woman’s strange sense of humor. When she maintained a serious expression, Gemynd realized she had been telling the truth.

  “Am I not to be permitted to eat at will?” he asked.

  “No. Only when it suits me, your instructor,” Hildegaard answered then pointed to yet another hallway. “This leads to the Director’s chambers and that staircase leads down to the pit.”

  “The pit?” Gemynd asked, not liking the sound of it.

  “Yes, that is where you will have level one active training,” she explained as though Gemynd was supposed to know exactly what that meant. “Now I will show you to your quarters.”

  They went back across the common room to the staircase on the other side and began climbing up. “The youngest children reside on the upper floors, closest to the instructors. As you are one of the oldest we’ve ever had, you will be on the first floor of living space.”

  They climbed the stairs just one flight up then walked left along the ambulatory to the fourth door. Hildegaard motioned with her arm for Gemynd to enter. The room was tiny and Gemynd judged it to only be about eight hands wide by twelve hands deep. It was lit by a single sconce, but because the room was so small, it made it the brightest room he’d been in so far. There was not a single piece of furniture save for a clay pot in one corner. It was just a small, empty room.

  “This is your home now for as long as you’re here,” Hildegaard said.

  “Will I get a bedsack?” Gemynd asked.

  Hildegaard shook her head. “No and I must ask you to surrender everything you brought with you. Instinctively, Gemynd put his hand over his prized dagger. “Do not fret. You will get it all back.”

  Reluctantly, Gemynd handed her his small sack of belongings and pulled his dagger from his belt.