THIEF
The Key to Magic: Book VII
H. Jonas Rhynedahll
© 2015 by H. Jonas Rhynedahll. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, scenes, dialogue, and descriptions are purely the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, real events, or actual places is entirely coincidental.
Published by Rhynedahll Software in the United States of America.
Other Works:
The Key to Magic: An epic fantasy series
Orphan
Magician
King
Emperor
Warrior
Wizard
Thief
Chronicle of the Rider
Dead Rider's Debt
Rider's Journey
Rider's Doom (2016)
Inconvenient Magic:
Potatoes, Come Forth!
Magic, Unfettered?
Unfinished Universe
A World in Parts (2016)
A Sky in Pieces (TBA)
A Dream in Thirds (TBA)
A War in Measure (TBA)
An End in Bits (TBA)
To End a War (science fiction novella)
Not Your Typical, Scantily-Clad Virgin Sacrifice (short story collection)
Forthcoming:
Tunnels
Time Traveler's Currency Exchange and Pawn
No Babes in the Apocalypse
Zombies Don't Shoot Back
ONE
Mar watched his undertime portal snap closed behind Lyra and her winded children. The powerful, chaotic sound-colors discharged by the collapsing flux modulation were almost visible to the naked eye. The background ether vibrated and complained, birthing a flux flare so strong that even the most minimally talented magician, removed even as much as a league away, should have been able to detect it. Once again, he resolved to research a method to conceal these betraying side effects, but as said minimally talented magicians, at least in this age, were extremely rare, he did not move the task to a higher spot on his priority list. Sending Quaestor Eishtren's family to the Bunker had been such a priority, but it gave him no sense of achievement to strike it from the depressingly still lengthy list.
Blowing out a hiss of agitated air, he shrugged away the mental and physical weariness that now always seemed to linger, a constant, disagreeable companion.
Still, he tarried for a moment, feeling no urge to move on. All of the dark buildings that shouldered the alley were deserted -- the very reason that he had chosen this particular back lane -- and there was no necessity for even his normal cautions. He need have no fear of unwanted witnesses or encounters in this moment and in this place. Luxuriating in the unrepentant sloth, he continued to just stand there doing nothing as he looked about.
Like most, the shaded, drafty alley stank of stale urine, rotted garbage, and other less agreeable smells, but these rank odors brought memories rather than revulsion. More times than could be counted, he had passed through just such in Khalar.
Those had not been happier times, clearly, but they had been simpler.
His work now occupied his every waking and even some of his dreaming moments.
And that work, he was beginning to understand, would never end.
As idleness became reluctance, he was briefly tempted to cast a light bending glamour that would allow him to pass through the Mhajhkaei of this moment, invisible, unchallenged, and unnoticed, just as he had passed, for all practical purposes, through Khalar until Thirteenthday, Waxing, Third Wintermoon, in 1643 AFE.
This was his own recent and well-remembered life, not some all but mythical ancient world or half-forgotten boyhood memory. Not far from where he now stood, a barely younger though much more ignorant and naive Mar was just beginning to learn the power of his magic. Out in the bay aboard one of the resurrected magical ships of the Brotherhood of Phaelle, a traitorous Waleck had begun to set his tortuous plots in motion. Telriy, rescued but not yet his, awaited at the Palace just a short jaunt across the Citadel. Here at this moment within the breached walls of this greatest of fortresses, Lord Ghorn, Mhiskva, Ulor, Berhl, and all the rest of the men and women who had become parts of his world were engaged in their desperate but doomed fight to save The Greatest City in All the World.
But he could not interfere, dared not change even a single second, and watching the events unfold from an uninvolved perspective would surely gain little to help him secure the future.
And he certainly did not have the time to simply gawk.
He let another slow breath erase the temptation, shed the glamour that had made him appear a Mhajhkaeirii'n legionnaire, raised his hand to stir the ether, and stepped forward into undertime.
At once, his unease screamed an urgent warning, drawing him to the Monolith and to Telriy.
A flash of a vision from the shallows showed him a shocking tableau in the tiny space beneath the encroaching stone: the wizard Zso exiting undertime while intense ethereal flux energies built around him; Telriy, Yhejia, and Aunt Whelsi crouched beneath a stout wooden table for protection from still tumbling bits of stone; his newborn child in her mother's arms, a daughter whose tiny being made a bright flash in the background ether; and finally the despised villain whom Mar had resolved to hunt down and destroy -- Waleck!
He saw the bulky object in Waleck's hand, a pistol in Common, bark ethereal fire, saw the mess that Zso's brains made on the jumbled rubble behind, and then he threw himself through a wrenched-open portal just as the wizard's corpse hit the floor.
He landed adjacent to Zso's body and immediately advanced across the cavity towards Waleck.
By default the sorcerer's weapon was pointed in Mar's direction, but he made no move to bring it to bear and showed no alarm or surprise at the younger man's abrupt appearance.
"That won't stop me," Mar ground out as he drew back a fist flush with not just the strength of his anger but also with the awful force of his magic.
Unflinching, Waleck grimaced, then immediately allowed his weapon to drop to the floor. Gaze unswerving, he raised his hands in mute surrender.
Mar almost continued forward to strike at the old man. Here, at last, was Waleck within his grasp. Here, at last, was the man who had ruthlessly manipulated Mar and all those around him, who had lied, subverted, coerced, and murdered in pursuit of his insane quest to restore the world that he had lost, and who Mar knew posed one of the greatest threats to all that he had built, to Telriy and their child, and to the future that he was fighting to create. Here, at last, was the man whom Mar knew was his greatest enemy.
But he stopped within arm's reach of the old man, jaw clenching in frustrated anger and aborted impulse. In spite of all the evil that Waleck had done, he was not yet ready to strike down an unresisting man, even one so heinous and vile as Waleck.
"I am well aware of your power, Mar," the old man said without inflection. "You are now the most skilled magician that has ever lived and I am certain that you are all but impossible to kill by any conventional means. I will offer no resistance and submit entirely to your demands."
While Mar had advanced, Yhejia and Aunt Whelsi had scrambled to move Telriy and the baby behind them, clearly in an attempt to shield the young woman and the child with their own bodies.
"Beware, my lord king!" Aunt Whelsi warned. "He killed the other magician with that black thing!"
"I will offer no further violence here," Waleck responded without taking his eyes from Mar's. "I have done only what needed be done."
"You can't trust him, Mar," Telriy urged in an unsteady voice that nevertheless held unshakable conviction.
His hands still twitching with rag
e, Mar's thoughts pounced upon an obvious condemnation. "You're a wizard."
"No, happily, I am not afflicted by that curse." Waleck raised his arm.
Mar readily identified the bracelet strapped to the old man's wrist. "A port."
"Yes. It is very likely the last of its kind in existence, but it is now and forever useless. The modifications that I was forced to make in order to pass through undertime are, to my knowledge, irreversible. This model's specialized flux reserve module was completely drained by the single passage. The module is practically unique in this current age and the materials and techniques required to recharge it no longer exist."
Moving with a slow deliberation obviously designed to prove that his actions presented no threat, Waleck released the clasp and tossed the bracelet down beside the pistol. "It has served its purpose and I do not regret its loss. I succeed in stopping the wizard and that is all that matters. If you have not already guessed, he came to kill the girl, your baby, and the women."
Mar cast a glance back at Zso. The wrinkles and parchment skin of the undamaged fringe of the wizard's nearly obliterated face indicated that he had aged several decades since Mar had first encountered him in that past Khalar.
Mar knew that his fury would skew his judgment and, by an effort of his will alone, he made the boiling emotion drain away. This did not mitigate his absolute suspicion of the old man and he continued to watch the sorcerer closely with both his physical and magical senses. He knew that that this apparent passivity was simply another ruse to put him off his guard, but his unease remained quiescent and the ethereal sound-colors wafting about the old man showed no disturbance of any kind that might indicate the initiation of a spell.
"Why did you stop him?" To Mar, this question had no obvious answer. As it now appeared, the situation made no sense. Why would the old man defend Mar's family?
Waleck gestured towards Telriy, the babe, Yhejia, and Aunt Whelsi. The three women continued to silently and intently watch the old man as one might a viper, but the older two had relaxed somewhat, perhaps because of Mar's presence, and clearly no longer expected to have to defend themselves against an immediate attack.
"To save them. This was cold blooded murder and I could not permit that."
Mar found it impossible to believe that this was the old man's only motive. "You used up irreplaceable magic simply to save four lives?"
Waleck tilted his head in acknowledgement of Mar's point. "In the affairs of men, there is no such thing as simple. All of them are part of a better future. My dreams have told me that Yhejia's great-granddaughter will rediscover a method to create reusable ethereal Vessels. Aunt Whelsi's witch acolytes will establish a school that will, within two generations, become a university that will dispatch surgeons trained in effective magical techniques to every part of the world. The essential role of Telriy and your children with her is something that you already know."
"You will have nothing to do with my daughter!" Telriy spat. There was venom in her voice and intense hatred in her look.
Mar could read from the shock waves that radiated from her into the background ether that the primary emotion driving her loathing for the old man was a well concealed but intense fear.
"He won't have a chance to harm anyone again," Mar promised with cold finality.
Waleck straightened as would a man who had determined that he would maintain his dignity even at the moment of his execution. "You are and will be a righteous king, Mar. I accept my punishment."
After looking back and forth between the old man, the women, and the corpse for several long seconds, Mar shook his head in slow decision. "There are fates worse than death. I will put you in a place where you'll never again be able to interfere with me or mine."
He hummed The Knife Fighter's Dirge to give himself a moment, then quickly cast his magical sense to the compacted rubble around them, thinking to shore up the cavity with a spell. With a start, he realized that a strong spell already fused the stone together. Magic had preserved the cavity and those within it!
But whose magic?
The flux modulation was uncomplicated but relatively strong. Certain nuances in the peripheral sound-colors suggested that it was not his own handiwork, retroactively applied at some future moment.
If Waleck had been responsible, it seemed clear that he would have taken credit.
Could Telriy have done it?
Still thinking, he layered a sound-color over the existing spell, applying all the strength that he could muster from the ether. The earth could crack apart now, but the stones would not move.
He let time resume its pace and strode forward to seize Waleck's arm in a grip reinforced with magic. The waste miner gave no sign of resistance.
"My lord king, surely you do not intend to leave us here?" Yhejia demanded, her voice full of reproach.
"I will be back before you know that I am gone," Mar pledged as he threw the old man into undertime and immediately followed.
TWO
Taking a long breath to settle her jangling nerves, Telriy held her sleeping daughter close. By some miracle, the pandemonium of the last few moments had not woken her, and her tiny expression remained relaxed and ... beautiful.
Then Mar was back. It might not have been a full single minute that he was gone.
He crouched down, extended his hand to her, and then all of them were out in the open on the clinic's terrace, washed by sun and clear air. As they gained their feet, the huge mound of rubble that had been the tower shifted and settled with sharp sounds of breaking and grinding stone. Released from the spells that she had sensed Mar cast, the cavity had collapsed, burying the corpse of the wizard assassin.
Before she, Yhejia, or Aunt Whelsi could speak, Mar said, "I have to go."
And he vanished.
"The king's magic has grown by leaps and bounds," Aunt Whelsi mentioned with no particular emphasis as she swung her head to examine the ruin of her tower.
"He's a wizard now," Telriy said in a somewhat absentminded way, her thoughts on other things.
"Those are the worst," Yhejia said, then frowned. She was not one to try to amend something that she had said if it were true solely to salve wounded feelings, but she was also not one to inflict undue hurt. "The King is a good man. He will resist the evil."
As Telriy worked to come up with a response that did not sound sanctimonious, condescending, defensive or all three combined, Master Khlosb'ihs and a gaggle of agitated legionary officers, armsmen, and civilian officials raced up. Like a stream washing around a trio of immovable rocks, this crowd enveloped the three of them and a number turned to gawk at the collapsed tower.
"Praise be to all the Gods!" the shipwright exclaimed. "I'd had word that the tower had fallen!"
"The king brought us out," Aunt Whelsi informed him. "Are there many hurt? It would be better that they be brought here rather than for me to have to run about. I'll need clean water and linen, some cots and blankets, tents, and unclouded winter wine."
"Yes, of course, Aunt Whelsi!"
While the Viceroy, with his customary stodgy efficiency, began to order the men and women with him about the witch's bidding as she made ready, in a very pragmatic fashion, to reestablish her clinic, Telriy caught Yhejia's eye and the two of them moved to the side away from the suddenly energized group.
"We should get back to the villa," she told the older woman.
The stone pavements would be rough on her bare feet -- her slippers were somewhere under the rubble -- but her other option, enchanting a chair or barrel and flying home, would reveal one of her secrets. She was not yet ready for anyone else to know that from her daily practice on Gh'emhoa she had learned to cast her husband's lifting and driving spells. As far as she knew, not even Mar was aware of her success. She could not cast them as powerfully or as quickly as he -- she perhaps never would -- but she could cast them as dependably.
Yhejia pressed her lips together. "You should be resting, my lady queen."
"
I can rest better at home. And I want to get away before Master Khlosb'ihs decides that I need to be protected."
Yhejia nodded in complete understanding. "Do you want me to carry Celly?"
"No, I have her."
In singles and mutually supportive groups, people had begun to arrive at the terrace seeking Aunt Whelsi's aid for minor injuries -- raw scrapes, bruises, a few broken fingers -- and Telriy and Yhejia were able to slip away through the burgeoning crowd without fanfare.
The damage done by the violent tremor to the cleared ruins and reconstructed buildings of the Monolith settlement proved inconsistent. Many parts were completely unscathed -- or, at least, appeared no more or less ruined that they had been prior to the earthquake -- while a number of buildings, such as had the clinic tower, had been completely razed. A large part of the civilian population was now encamped in the open streets and plazas, shunning the buildings in fear of another earth movement. Somewhat miraculously, it appeared that no one had been killed and only a few seriously injured.
Curiously, however, as they advanced along the avenue that led to the villa, they came across a number of small gatherings where people were professing that incredible wonders and miracles had saved them from harm.
Some of these, fervently genuflecting and burning incense while surrounded by enraptured onlookers, avowed that, at the very moment of the disaster, they had known shock, pain, and surely death! But then, by the merciful intervention of the Forty-Nine, each had awakened in some otherworldly place on a magnificent and fantastic altar constructed of wondrous materials that no man had previously seen! This, each had been quick to explain, could only have been a holy construction, consecrated by default to whichever of the Forty-Nine Gods suited each one's particular religious inclinations. Each had then been borne -- by the king himself! -- though a "corridor of light and dark" and returned to the settlement and the joyous cries of their loved ones.
Thief (The Key to Magic Book 7) Page 1