The Guardian's Apprentice (Beyond the Veil)

by J. Michael Radcliffe

  In addition to the crackle of thunder, a sharp wind had sprung up within the room, causing the young wizard’s robes to flap against him. Bracing himself on his staff, he leaned forward and peered toward the center of the portal. Another flash of lightning showed him what he feared most – the bolts of energy originated from a wizard’s staff – a staff held by his grandfather, Phineas.

  Keegan struggled forward against the wind, bracing himself with his staff as he inched his way forward across the uneven stone floor of the chamber.

  “GRANDFATHER!”

  Even though he shouted with all his strength, the howling of the wind in the chamber and the crackle of lightning drowned out his voice.

  Holding his staff firmly in front of himself, Keegan bowed his head against the wind and concentrated, willing himself into the magic of his staff as he had done once before. Gradually the sound around him lessened as a feeling of warmth spread from the staff through his arms and down into the rest of his body. The gale inside the chamber had not lessened, yet somehow the forces around him parted as if broken by an unseen blade in front of him. Desperately focusing his concentration Keegan began walking forward, slowly at first and then gradually faster as his confidence grew. Moving forward in this way he finally reached the outer circle that surrounded the gateway, but as he went to step past the threshold, he walked straight into an invisible barrier.

  Yelping in pain as his head and knee hit the unseen wall, his concentration wavered and the gale force winds whipped at his robes again. Refocusing his thoughts, he pushed outward again, forcing the winds back but he still could not move beyond the outer rim. Looking up for the first time since reaching the edge of the portal, he saw his grandfather in the great archway. The air around the Guardian crackled with energy and Keegan knew that the world’s most powerful wizard was standing before him. Phineas looked different somehow; his face looked tired and careworn and there were dark shadows under his eyes. Keegan had not seen much of his grandfather since coming to the castle, but he was shocked to see just how old he looked now. Focusing his will on the staff, he tried projecting his voice through the barrier.

  “Grandfather!”

  Phineas turned slightly and looked at Keegan, having somehow heard his voice through the chaos. He nodded and smiled warmly at his grandson but did not move from inside the gateway, nor did the energy bands coming from his staff decrease in the slightest.

  Keegan saw his grandfather peer directly at him and furrow his brow slightly.

  “I was afraid you would come down here before my task was complete, Keegan. I had rather hoped to spare you this vision.”

  Remembering how he had shared thoughts with Nekk’ar, Keegan concentrated on his grandfather and thought, “I had to come, Master. Please don’t do this; Acamar told me what you are trying to do and what will happen to you if the gateway is sealed!”

  Phineas smiled fondly at the grandson he had just met a few weeks ago.

  ”I must do what must be done, Keegan. You will fill my shoes as guardian quite capably, in time.”

  “But I’m not ready! I can’t even fully block Acamar’s attacks yet!”

  The older wizard chuckled under his breath, though the power emanating from his staff never wavered.

  “Acamar is my most trusted aide, and more importantly my oldest friend. He will teach you well and you will come to no harm while he is near, though you may end up with a few bruises from his teaching methods.”

  With this last thought, Phineas became more serious – almost stern in his appearance. His staff began to glow brightly along its length as if gathering one last charge of energy before sealing the gateway.

  “You must listen carefully, Keegan. Whatever happens, listen to Acamar and let him guide you. You must protect the amulet at all costs. It can never be allowed to interact with the oracle in the Council chambers. Remember Keegan, I am so very proud of you!”

  The Guardian’s staff began to hum and quiver with the amount of power channeled through it, as long, spidery arcs of power spread out and intersected with the boundaries of the gateway. The tempest in the chamber increased exponentially all around Keegan, until finally with a thunderous clap the portal wrapped inward on itself, shrinking to a ball of energy the size of a basketball. Hovering for a nanosecond, the sphere exploded outward with a flash and then the chamber fell silent. The force of the blast blew Keegan backward across the room, where he tumbled to the floor. Desperately he scrambled to his feet, hoping to get to the portal. One look at the ruined gateway and he froze in his tracks. The edges of the stone archway were cracked and scorched from the heat, but what Keegan focused on lay in the center of the portal – the broken and splintered remains of Phineas’ staff.

  ###

  Chapter 33 – An End and a Beginning

  Keegan sat at a small table on the balcony off the study, looking silently at the hills beyond. It had been two days since his grandfather had permanently sealed the First Gateway. The scorched, broken remains of his staff rested inside the bookcase of the study, sealed behind the glass doors.

  “Your grandfather was very proud of you, Keegan,” said Acamar as he walked up from behind and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  “I barely knew him, Acamar,” Keegan said in a tired voice. His eyes were dark from lack of sleep and bloodshot from the tears he had cried. “I had just gotten some of my family back and now he’s gone. He was so different from my father.”

  Acamar smiled and sat in the chair opposite Keegan, the wind blowing his grey streaked hair. “I know, Keegan. I know. I have lost a Master and a great teacher, but above all a friend. Your grandfather saved me, Keegan. He accepted me as a servant when no other wizard would because of my crime.”

  “What do I do now, Acamar? I’m not ready to be the Guardian.”

  “Whether you are ready or not, the fact remains that you ARE the Guardian, Keegan,” said the older man, looking over his glasses at the boy. “I promised your grandfather I would teach you everything I could and serve you as I served him. I intend to keep that promise and will help you all that I can.”

  “But you’re free, Acamar. You told me my grandfather broke the binding and ended your service.”

  Acamar leaned forward intently, “I serve you now, Keegan, because I choose to, not because I am bound into servitude. Now, you need some rest,” he said as he got up from the chair. “Your studies begin in earnest again tomorrow. We have to be ready.”

  Acamar strode from the balcony and left the study, closing the door behind him. Keegan watched the older man leave; if he did not know better he would have sworn Acamar’s robes were a lighter shade than the day before. Keegan shuddered at the thought of being the Guardian. His studies would begin tomorrow to teach him to defend the castle against an all but certain attack from the missing wizard, Ducat. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes – hoping to delay for just a little while longer his first day on the job.

  ***

  Keegan awoke with a scream. Sitting bolt upright in bed, he was soaked with a cold sweat. It had been nearly a week since the death of his grandfather. The nightmares had begun a day or so ago and now occurred on a regular basis. They had been vague at first, usually running away from some unseen foe pursing him through the fog. As time passed however, the dreams took on more detail and became true nightmares. The latest had him back in the lair of Seba’an, the Alderdrache. The last time Keegan had been there, he had barely escaped a confrontation with the Shadow. In this dream, however, he could not escape the oily blackness that engulfed him. The Shadow surrounded him, chilling him to the bone with the cold of pure evil as they drained his life force. He screamed the incantation for the portal that would take him to safety, but no matter how hard he focused or how loud he chanted, the spell failed. He watched as his skin shriveled, becoming as frail as parchment as the Shadow devoured his essence. The Shadow around him laughed at the pitiful little wizard-to-be, crumbling to dust and powerless to save himself
until at last he was jolted awake.

  “Solarus-minimus.”

  Keegan started slightly as soft golden light filled the bedroom. He turned toward the door and saw the housekeeper, Ms. Hoskins, standing in the doorway. Her silver hair, pulled back tightly into a bun on the back of her head, gave her the appearance of a stern schoolteacher. Her wire-rimmed glasses were perched on the end of her nose and she wore an obviously worried look on her face.

  “Are you all right, Master Whitestone?”

  Keegan ran his hand through his hair, brushing the wet strands out of his eyes. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” he said with a tired sigh.

  “But you are the Guardian now, young Master,” she replied with a disapproving frown.

  He glared at the old housekeeper. “I am not the Guardian yet, Ms. Hoskins. I’m just an apprentice; and not a very good one at that, I might add.”

  Ms. Hoskins huffed up, placing her hands on her hips and lowering her head so she could frown at Keegan over her spectacles. Keegan knew this meant she was building up steam readying for a full broadside, or a ‘piece of her dusty old mind’ as Acamar would put it. Acamar and Ms. Hoskins continued to have a prickly relationship since the death of Phineas, each trying to outdo the other with the caliber of their insults. She still sometimes referred to Acamar derisively as “Whiskers” or “Fleabag” even though he spent much less time as a cat since being freed from his bond of servitude.

  “Now see here, young Master,” she scolded. “An apprentice you may be, but with the death of your grandfather the full responsibilities of the Guardian are yours now, whether you like it or not.” She bustled over to the window and pulled back the thick drapes, letting in the first rays of the sunrise. “Now, out of that bed so I can collect the linens. Get yourself down to the study and I’ll be in with a fresh pot of tea and some breakfast before your studies. You’d best hurry now before that teacher of yours gets back. Whiskers is already in a foul mood this morning and he’ll have you dodging spells on an empty stomach if you’re not careful.”

  “Back? It’s just now sunrise; where on Earth did he go this early in the morning?”

  Ms. Hoskins snorted scornfully. “Off to see some of the Council, I expect. He received a note from one of them shortly before midnight and he was off this morning before sunrise. Left about two hours ago.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  The old woman turned from the window and smiled warmly at Keegan. “The Council took the news of your grandfather’s death very hard, young Master. It will take some time for them to adjust, that’s all. Now, up and about before Master Wycroft returns,” she said as she shooed him out of the bed. Bustling about, she gathered up the soaked bedclothes and whisked out of the room.

  Keegan just shook his head in amazement. Acamar had told him Ms. Hoskins was incredibly old – she had served at Pahret T’pur longer than anyone could remember. Yet she whisked about with the energy of someone much younger and was a force to be reckoned with on matters concerning the castle or its occupants. Keegan stretched one last time then dressed in his apprentice robes. Gathering up his staff and two books on the history of magic he was supposed to have read the night before, he headed down to the study.

  Reaching the study, he placed his books on the desk and leaned his staff in the corner. True to her word, Ms. Hoskins had indeed left a tray on the desk with a fresh pot of tea and a mound of freshly baked scones. Helping himself to a steaming cup of tea, he broke open the scone and applied liberal amounts of thick Devonshire cream. He had developed a taste for Ms. Hoskins’ scones and the clotted cream she always provided – giving him something to look forward to before his lessons with Acamar began every morning.

  He had just taken a large bite of the scone when a portal snapped open near the balcony window. The swirling blue-white portal crackled with power as Acamar stepped through. The portal snapped shut, leaving behind nothing but the faint smell of ozone and an electric tingle in the room. Acamar dusted off his robes and frowned at Keegan.

  “You’re just now having breakfast? You should have been up well over an hour ago,” snapped the older wizard.

  “Mmph-mmph,” was all Keegan could manage through a large mouthful of scone. He quickly swallowed and washed it down with a too-large gulp of tea, scalding his mouth in the process. “I’m sorry, Acamar. The nightmares came again, only worse this time. I woke up screaming – Ms. Hoskins even came in to see if I was okay.”

  “The Shadow again?” asked Acamar.

  “Yes, only worse this time. I was trapped in Seba’an’s cave and they surrounded me, draining my life force until I was nothing but a husk.”

  “Mmm. A fate you may well experience if we don’t get you trained up in time,” warned Acamar. “We have to focus on your defensive skills if you are to stand a chance against Ducat, much less the Shadow.”

  Since the death of Phineas, Acamar had strengthened the Veil using the Blackstar amulet and virtually cut off travel between the two worlds.

  “I’m afraid we have an even bigger problem at the moment, Keegan. I have just come from the Council. I was summoned there late last night by several of the members. It seems that several of the Black order have decided since the Guardian died before you completed your apprenticeship, you are no longer qualified to hold the position. They have found support among the Grey order as well.”

  “What? Why would they support the Black order?”

  “I’m not certain yet, but if there is one thing I’ve learned in my service to your grandfather, it’s that Council politics are dangerous. Very dangerous. Not only is there the issue of your apprenticeship, but the Council seat held by your grandfather must still be filled. Rightfully that position would be held for you as the Guardian, but now that is in question as well.”

  Keegan was at a loss for words. His grandfather had died in an effort to seal the first gateway, yet now the Council members were fighting for power over his vacant seat and the Guardianship itself.

  “So, now what do we do?”

  “You and I have been summoned before the full Council, or what’s left of it. The Grey order has not yet named a replacement for Ducat, leaving the Black with four votes to three for each of the other two castes. We have been ordered to appear within the hour; I’m very sorry, Keegan.”

  Acamar picked up Keegan’s staff and handed it to him. With a final glance around the study, he conjured a portal back to the Council and they stepped through.

  ###

  Chapter 34 – The Breaking

  The Council chambers appeared much as they did before, although there was now a large scorch mark on the floor left as a reminder of Ducat’s escape. The mood in the chamber was a somber one, although Keegan was not sure why. The first thing he noticed was the number of empty chairs around the table. None of the members of the White caste was present, and the seats formerly belonging to Phineas and Ducat were still vacant. Cedric was also absent, however his deputy Portia was seated next to his chair. The other two members of the Dark Arts were there as were the three elected members of the Grey order. As Acamar and Keegan approached the others, Portia rose to greet them, almost as a lion would rise to greet an antelope arriving for supper.

  “Well, Master Wycroft, you and your protégé have finally decided to honor us with your presence,” she said as she leaned forward with her palms on the table, looking every bit like a hawk about to disembowel a rabbit.

  “You will forgive me, Portia, but we came as soon as we were summoned,” he said with a polite nod of his head.

  “I will most certainly not forgive you, Master Wycroft! Were it up to me, you would still be confined to your feline prison. You and the whelp should have appeared before us immediately upon the Guardian’s death, so the Council could choose his successor!”

  Acamar visibly bristled at Portia’s accusation.

  “I was expecting Master Thornback,” said Acamar in a cautious tone.

  “Cedric no longer holds sway with our me
mbers, Master Wycroft, ever since he abandoned his loyalty to our Order and sided with the Guardian.”

  “Portia, if we do not stand united against Ducat and the Shadow, we will all surely perish!”

  “I still have no proof of the Shadow, Acamar. As for Ducat, he is simply a power-mad fool. I have now taken Cedric’s place as head of our Order. Furthermore, the Black and the Gray have agreed that with power vested for so long with the Order of White, the Guardian’s former place on this Council is now forfeit and will not be filled.”

  Keegan was too stunned to speak and Acamar looked shocked. By forfeiting his grandfather’s seat on the Council the Order of White would have only three voting members while the other Orders had four each, once the Gray replaced Ducat and the Black replaced Cedric. It was a dramatic shift of power.

  “Young Master Whitestone is the rightful successor to the Guardian, whether the Council wills it or not,” was his terse reply.

  “I beg to differ, Master Wycroft. If the Council wills it, so shall it be!” she said with a hiss. “We have decreed that a new successor shall be chosen, since our poor young apprentice is left without a Master.”

  Blinded with rage and the lingering loss of his grandfather, Keegan could hold his tongue no longer.

  “ENOUGH!” he shouted, silencing the room with a sweep of his arm.

  His ring began glowing and a tingling pain shot down his arm as Nekk’ar tried to stop him, but his anger carried him onward. Angrily he advanced on the Council members, who remained seated in stunned silence. Even Portia was taken aback by his sudden outburst.

  “This stops now! I am not your pawn, to be discarded at a whim! My grandfather died to protect all of you from certain destruction. His final words to me were to carry on his work, and that I will do, whether the Council wills it or not!”

  “Ha!” laughed Portia. “You know little of our world and even less of magic. My word is final, youngling.”