by Philip Blood
“You would need far more mages, and an army, to assault Mystical Island, but I see from your demeanor I cannot dissuade you from this task. Then in light of your quest to slay our enemies, I will grant your request to view the Hall of Records. However, the Tarvos sorceress will remain in custody until you leave these walls.”
“All right, though she is to be treated well, and given food and other comforts, as well as the return of her weapon when we leave.”
“You would make demands!” he squeaked.
“No, I would caution you about pissing off a Tarvos sorceress; do so at your own risk,” I noted matter-of-factly.
He contemplated that, and then said, “All right, it will be as you request. Guards, take him to his companions and remove the manacles. Release his companions, except the Tarvos sorceress, but feed her and bring her a chair and other amenities.”
I raised my hands and my manacles fell apart to the ground, “No need for the key, thanks.”
I had been working on believing the lock on them was toast for some time, it was just my way of being a little belligerent. I didn’t like this officious little rat bastard and his big chair and threats.
The mage scowled, I guess he figured I shouldn’t have been able to do that with the Actuality weapon nearby, but the Captain had taken a step back, so I must have been out of the weapon’s sphere of influence, at least partially. Besides, I didn’t give a hoot what the squeaky little shit thought.
Myrka wasn’t happy, but she bowed to my orders and scowled at the guards who gingerly brought in a chair for her to use. She sneered at them when they lifted a key to remove her manacles, which just turned to dust. Then she ignored the guards and spoke to me, “I will wait until morning, if you have not returned by then, I will kill all of these foolish saerans and come find you.”
The guards were all looking nervous as hell and gripping their weapons tightly as they backed away from the Tarvos sorceress.
“I’d be very nice to her, boys,” I said and walked out the cell door.
I noticed the saeran captain, with his Actuality knife, was stationed outside Myrka’s cell door. I wished him luck with that if Myrka got really pissed; I was thinking of those skeletal ghosts she had fried, and the influence of the weapon hadn’t seemed all that strong.
Hydan, Toji and I were escorted by a saeran guard out onto the streets of Poseidon. The place was a little like Amsterdam, with even more canals and fewer streets. It seemed that they had split the Celadon River into many canals through the city, and then let the water exit out massive drains which went over the cliffs along the beach. This acted as a constant sewer system, as fresh water was continually being fed through the canal system.
There were a lot of saerans here, some selling things along the streets, or out on boats. Many saerans swam in the canals rather than walk the roads; saerans were actually faster in the water. There were poor looking saerans huddled in various alleys; it was obvious the city had taken in a lot of refugees from the war.
Hydan purchased a bottle of some nasty brew from a street vendor as we walked by, and then started swigging from it with gusto.
“Ah, it has been too long since I had a civilized brew!” he exclaimed, smacking his lips.
Eventually, we arrived at an ornate hall which was erected in front of a wide and prominent canal. White marble steps came up out of the water, then a road bisected them, and the stairs continued up on the other side, leading to an entrance at the top. There were six large pillars holding up the peaked roof at the entrance to the Hall of Records.
We took the stairs and entered. Inside we found a massive oval chamber, with an oval counter area in the center where several saerans were working.
Our escort stepped to the side of the entry doors, he was obviously going to wait for us to finish, and then escort us back.
Until this moment, I hadn’t really told my companions about my ‘test’, but I did so now.
Hydan pursed his lips, and then said, “And they were amazed you were a Third?”
I nodded, and added, “I could swear the wizard who tested me was shocked and worried.”
Hydan nodded, “Meaning he was likely a lower Tier mage, and therefore, quite worried you would exercise your right.”
“My right?”
“Yes, your right to have lower Tier mages follow your orders.”
“Oh. I can do that?” I asked.
He nodded. “It varies from world to world, on some, it is considered divine right, and punishable by death to refuse the orders of a higher Tier. Of course, if the higher Tier orders something which his superiors do not approve of, it could then be his life which would be forfeit.”
“Wow, and that would take out all his descendants?”
“Yes, so you can imagine giving such orders is only done in situations of clear need and approved by law. However, on some worlds, it is less formal, and obedience is just expected of lower Tiers, but not enforced by law. There are even a few worlds where lower Tiers don’t have to follow orders of higher Tier superiors; of course, those superiors might attempt to kill anyone who doesn’t follow their orders. On most worlds, lower Tier mages are like lower ranks in a military organization.”
“So, if I was a higher Tier than that pompous ass, I could have ordered him out of his chair and taken charge?”
Hydan nodded, “This is assuming a higher Tier mage didn’t show up and fix the situation. Now, did another mage show up after you declared your Tier?”
“No, I only saw Sir Squeaky, and I’m pretty sure he was the same idiot who exposed us back on the top of the wall.”
Hydan looked surprised, “That is odd. Normally, if a lower Tier mage had to deal with a higher Tier prisoner, the simple solution is to call a higher Tier superior to the hearing, thereby negating that issue. If one did not come…”
“Yes?” I prodded.
He shrugged, “Then it is likely that there was no higher Tier available, but I would have thought they would have summoned one eventually.”
“Nope, just Sir Squeaky.”
“Why are you calling him ‘Sir Squeaky’, surely that wasn’t his name?”
I smiled, “You heard him up on the wall, not a voice you forget soon.”
Hydan shifted his weight to his other foot and brought a webbed hand to his chin in thought, “That makes no sense, why was a lower Tier mage, which would make sense for wall guard duty, also brought in to interrogate mages? Also, when he found himself outranked, why didn’t he call in a superior?”
“When you put it that way, it does sound odd,” I agreed.
Hydan nodded, “It is likely because he had no superior to call! That might be it, mages are becoming scarce, and perhaps this lowly Fifth or Sixth is the highest Tier available, or maybe the only mage in Poseidon!”
Toji looked perplexed, “But, if that were true, this city would be nearly undefended from attack by Morgain’s forces!”
I spoke quietly, “Keep your voices down.”
Toji moved in closer, and Hydan said, “Yes, and the Poseidon leadership would want to keep that a secret, at any cost!”
Toji nodded, and then added, “If that is true, why would they let a Sivaeral Third go out on a dangerous quest, wouldn’t they need him to stay here and protect the capital?”
I broke in, “But Sir Squeaky said we could go…”
Hydan interrupted, “Toji is right, I now believe this Sivaeral wizard was lying to you.”
“To what purpose?” I asked.
Hydan thought about it, and took a drink from his bottle, before saying, “He could be separating us; he kept Myrka alone in the cell and let us all go free. That gives him a shot at Myrka without us there to help!”
“Crap!” I almost yelled, but managed to lower my voice in time. I glanced toward where our guard was standing.
“Can you Five Point travel to that cell?” I asked Hydan.
Hydan nodded, “I believe so, I checked earlier and there was no StarWard put up, whic
h is very odd for a cell containing mages! If there is only a Fifth here, he couldn’t block me anyway.”
“OK, here is what we are going to do, let’s find a place where you can make a Traveling Star, and then you and Toji are going to get Myrka and bring her here. Try NOT to kill any saerans, and keep Myrka from starting any mayhem as well! Meanwhile, I’m going to get the research on my parents. As soon as we are all back together, we use another Traveling Star to get clear of this city!”
“All right, but are you going to be alright, alone?” Toji asked.
“Yes, as long as they think we are here just doing research, they won’t hit us until later; they probably mean to use another ruse to separate one of us from the group, so they can take us one by one.”
“True,” Toji said, but added, “Still, I would be happier if I stayed with you.”
I shook my head, “No time to argue, the battle is going to be in the cell, and it might already be taking place. Now, quickly, let’s move, both of you are going back there!”
We went to the oval counter and asked for directions to the genealogy section. Then we headed that direction. On the way, we passed a closed door, and when no one was looking, opened it and found a storage room. Toji and Hydan slipped in and I closed the door with them inside.
Then I was off to the genealogy section alone.
When I entered the chamber containing all documented genealogy for the saeran race, I stopped. There were cubby holes which went up to the high ceiling on each wall, and almost all of them were stuffed full of rolled up scrolls. It would take me a lifetime in here to find the scroll I needed!
“Haven’t these idiots heard of a damned computer!” I muttered, “Hell, how about old-fashioned index card drawers! What heathen race doesn’t have a Dewey Decimal system! A pox on all of you morons!”
That’s when Pox’s sniveling voice said, “You called, master?”
I whirled around and found my favorite disgusting dwarf, Pox, sniveling by a table in the center of the room. He was wringing his gnarled fingers, and bobbing his big proboscis while showing his yellowed teeth in what he thought was a smile.
“Where have you been!” I demanded. “You sent me off to England, and then pulled a disappearing act!”
Pox sniveled, “I can manifest where you are when you call me if you are alone. Sometimes I can find you if you remain in a place long enough for me to locate, Master.”
“What are you talking about? What ARE you?”
“I am a ghost of my former self, a phantom. I stayed when I died, and then asked to be bound as a phantom so I could continue to serve you, as I did in life before I was killed.”
“So you’re a ghost?”
“No, I am a phantom, this body is reconstituted from the Ether when I manifest.”
Typically, of Pox, his answers often confused me more, not less, but I had little time, so I asked, “Why can you only come when I am alone?”
Pox bobbed his whole squat body up and down as he said, “I meant only when you are not with other mages, for their power over reality keeps me from manifesting.”
“I see; can you help me?”
He nodded, “I can try, Master, tell me what you need.”
“Tell me who my parents are!” I demanded, realizing I didn’t even need to look at these dusty old scrolls; here was someone who knew my past!
“I don’t know,” Pox answered contritely. “You never told me, Master. When you brought me back my memory was damaged; I can recall little of my previous life.”
Great, another brain damaged idiot, we were a matched set, if you ignored his deformed body.
“OK, fine then, but I will still need to find the scroll which tells me about my lineage, but there are so many.”
Pox exhaled, which stunk up the chamber to high heaven, and said, “What you need may be called by your choice.”
Damn, I wanted to punch that little runt! Every time I asked him something he made it all so confusing, why couldn’t the putrid pigmy just say, “Oh, it’s THAT one!” And then point to a scroll with one of his disgusting digits?
“Explain that, simply!” I almost yelled, my saeran eyes kind of bugging out of my scaled face.
So he tried again, “The scroll you need is where you know it can be found.”
Ah hell, I wondered if it was against the law to kill a phantom? Or maybe that was considered a boon to society? I vowed to find out. But as I considered crushing the conniving cretin his words kind of made some sense, once I remembered I was a wizard, and what wizards did for kicks.
I turned to the room and thought about how they would have put the important scrolls at the bottom, and how a mage Third would be on a scroll in the third cubby. Then, my family, who were no doubt important, would be placed on top. So I walked to the third cubby and picked up the scroll I needed, from right on top.
I spread it out on the table. What I saw was family tree diagram. Hot damn, it had actually worked! All I had to do was know where the scroll was, and that’s where it was, which, in essence, was what Pox had said.
In bold letters at the top of the scroll was a title, House Sivaeral. Below that was a rectangular box which had just two words, “The Archimage”. From the title, there were several lines drawn to the next row of boxes below. On these connecting lines, between rows of boxes, were names like Esabeth Sivaeral: M, or Karice Albus: 3.
It wasn’t too hard to figure out that these were the mates of the name in the box above, their house and their Tier. ‘M’ must be for mundane, and numbers for a Tier. There were twelve boxes in the second row, each containing a name. There was a mix of female and male names. All of the names on this row had a red line drawn through them, except for three: Oberon, Gunder, and Braun. I noted Medrod was just to Oberon’s left, though there was a red line through Medrod’s name. Again, it was obvious; the line meant they were ended. In every case where a line was drawn through a name, all names down the rows connected to that name were red lined.
This made the three remaining lines stand out, as they were the only Seconds not crossed out, and therefore, every surviving Sivaeral mage was down one of their lines. If I was a Third, and obviously I was still alive, then one of these three had to be my father! I quickly scoured the names on the third line of boxes which connected to each of the three remaining names above, looking for Nicholas, but my name wasn’t there.
“I’m not here,” I said, stunned, I had been so sure I was about to learn who my real parents were.
Pox wiped a large glop of snot from his nose, and flicked it to the ground, and then he snorted heavily, sucking the remainder back into his pickle size nose, and then said, “Perhaps your name is hidden.”
“Hidden? Why would they do that?”
Pox answered, “When an illegitimate child is born, often times parents try to protect them from the Hunters.”
“Illegitimate? What do you mean, like their parents weren’t married?”
He shook his ugly head, and I stepped back lest any of his snot fly off. Then Pox said, “No, Master, illegitimate, as in ‘against propriety’, or worse, against the Accords.”
Once again my thought about murdering the little larcenous leech leaped through my mind, but I held on and said, “What would constitute ‘against propriety’?”
“Well, a Bastard child,” he said like I should have known that.
I recalled Hydan had explained Bastards, they were the child of two mages of the same Tier and were often hunted by other mages.
“OK, but even if I am a Bastard, how would I know?”
He looked at my left hand and said, “Use the ring, Master, you told me your mother gave it to you!”
“Use the ring?” I said and looked down at the gold band on my right hand, ring finger. “What the hell does that mean, what, am I supposed to imagine something else?”
“No, I mean, look through the ring!”
Was this some kind of damned metaphor? Did he mean the Ring of Ten mages or some other ring?
“What do you mean, look through the ring?” I demanded, expecting one of his really confusing answers, which the gnarled gremlin generally gave me, but Pox just held up his thumb and forefinger, making a circle, and then brought it up to his bloodshot eye.
It couldn’t be that easy, could it?
I pulled the ring off my finger, which took some tugging; the thing didn’t like to come off. Then, feeling a little ridiculous, I held it up to my eye and looked at the scroll through the center of the gold ring.
There was more writing! The additional writing showed as glowing thin silver lines on the parchment. I quickly rescanned the three living Seconds and saw a new line coming off of Oberon! I followed it, and where there should have been the name of my mother on the line there was nothing written. However, the line did go to a box, and there it said, ‘Nicholas Sivaeral: 3’
Oberon Sivaeral was my father!
I put my ring back on, and then rolled up the scroll and put it back in the cubby; there was no sense letting someone else know what I’d been perusing.
“OK, let’s get back to the storage room,” I said to Pox, but the little runt had disappeared again, great.
I hurried toward the storage room, and then slowed when I could see the door ahead. I waited until all other saerans were out of sight, and then I just slipped in and closed the door swiftly. On the floor was a blackened double circle, with a pentagram inside, so I figured Hydan and Toji had made the jump to Myrka’s cell.
I waited a couple more minutes and was just about to go out and tell my guard to take me back to Myrka’s cell when Toji spun into being and staggered a few steps. Myrka followed and then Hydan appeared.
“What happened?” I demanded.
Hydan shrugged, and then answered, “I arrived behind the saeran Captain; he had his Actuality knife close to Myrka to keep her from using her powers. There were several other guards, all trying to bind Myrka, so the first thing I did was disabled the Captain.”
“I thought you said you couldn’t use your powers close to one of those Actuality weapons?”