The Emperor's Mage

by Clark Bolton

  As she followed she tried to think who that old friend might be. Surely not the dead monk or the disloyal dracomon, she thought.

  __________________________

  Yi-La partially collapsed on the table after sitting down in front of her three friends.

  “We know you were in the dungeons, Fu-Sa,” Narween said in a concerned tone after Yi-La lay silent for a while.

  “How could you know that?” Yi-La asked with her head laying sideways on the table.

  She was facing the idol of Pen-Ot-Obey. The brothers had cleared away things from that section of the wall, which was proper, she thought.

  There was a silence before Narween announced, “The Chancellor was here.”

  Yi-La let out a moan as she was reminded of the fact that Pesnu-Jok had long ago taken possession of this place. His rare appearances down here had let her forget he was an unwelcome part of all this.

  “Should I be worried?” she asked.

  “He learned nothing from us,” Bua-Nap assured her. “We were respectful, and he asked only a few questions.”

  Pesnu-Jok had wanted to know if they knew where Yi-La might be, and also how their studies were progressing. Yi-La had quickly asked if Pesnu-Jok had noticed the three-volume set of runes she had loaned them. No, she was informed, which she could only shrug at.

  “My master wouldn’t care anyway,” she said softly.

  Over the next few minutes they coaxed the events of the last two days out of her. She had come down here to tell them, but she just didn’t know where to start. When she explained why she had been down in the palace dungeons, they were truly shocked.

  “Did Lu-Pok resist?” Narween asked with mouth agape.

  “No,” Yi-La replied with a shrug. “He just walked into that cell.”

  “What cell can hold a dracomon?” Rua-Nap asked with suspicion.

  “This one can! The bars were as thick as tree-trunks, and it also had chains like I’ve never seen wrapped around it.”

  “Big enough for him to transform in?” Rua-Nap was quick to ask.

  The question made her think for a moment until she could see a naked Lu-Pok in her mind; it was making her heart race again, she realized. Four times now she had seen him change between forms. Each was troubling to watch, but had become too fascinating to turn away from.

  “You’re turning red, Fu-Sa,” Narween warned. “Do you need some water or something?”

  “No!” Yi-La snapped irritably as she tried to calm herself. “He killed that monk! Just makes me sad to think about it.”

  “Do you think he intended to?” Bua-Nap asked thoughtfully.

  Yi-La felt blood rising to her face again as she was quick to say, “No, I don’t think he did.”

  “He did!” Narween declared with arms crossed, which she quickly uncrossed when the dragon-mage glared at her. “Maybe not,” Narween conceded softly.

  Yi-La was ready for a change of subject when Rau-Nap asked, “The dracomon did not enter the temple?”

  “No, he didn’t even transform there,” she assured them.

  “That’s good, I think,” Rau-Nap suggested. “Did you see the quantum?”

  “No,” she replied as she did her best to recall what she had seen in Shrindala. “Only that room, and the monolith.”

  “And the inscription bearing the name Ustclostefey?”

  “Yes. Like I said, it was near the monolith.”

  “Why there?” Bua-Nap asked her and his brother. “I mean, why in the temple?”

  “I don’t know,” Rua-Nap replied. “The monolith is a physical representation of the Owesek Covenant, though.” He gave Yi-La a serious look as he said this. “The notes we have mention it a number of times. Did you see what was written on it?”

  “No. Master Sey-Laht didn’t take me close enough to it. I honestly don’t think he wanted to get close.”

  “A shame you didn’t see the quantum,” Bua-Nap said sadly.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  They were all thinking about the rings that might be there, mixed in with the bones of past dragon-mages. It seemed one place the Emperor wouldn’t, or couldn’t, lay claim to them.

  “Have you learned any more about the dracomon?” Rua-Nap then asked.

  “Was hoping you three might have,” Yi-La replied. “I’m afraid to mention the name Na-Jak-Po to anyone.”

  Narween nodded her head in understanding. “Chusey and Rooch seemed pretty sure he had been accounted for, but not dead. Something about not being in the dragon-cloud, but not missing either.”

  “Eunuch?” both the brothers asked at once.

  “Never thought of that,” Yi-La admitted. “Maybe the Imperial-Chancellor isn’t the only eunuch dracomon.”

  “He’d be here in the capital though, would he not?” Bua-nap suggested.

  No one could argue for or against his suggestion, and as far as they knew from the two eunuchs, Na-Jak-Po was the only remaining noble dracomon outside the dragon-cloud – other than the Imperial-Chancellor, Tu-Dak-Po.

  “Ich-Mek will be okay, Fu-Sa,” Narween said kindly when she saw Yi-La staring off sadly into space.

  Thankfully, Narween hadn’t realized she was thinking of Lu-Pok, and how sad and alone he had looked in that cell.

  __________________________

  Yi-La’s reunion with Master Gang was short, as it was not long before he told her Sey-Laht had need of her again. “My old friend has changed as of late, have you noticed, Yi-La?”

  “No, master,” she replied quickly.

  It was perhaps a lie, she admitted to herself. The older mage was obviously sad about something – so sad she worried it would affect his health. The thought suddenly made her feel guilty now for not saying something. She didn’t think to make the connection between how the two masters were perhaps referring to each other. Neither had ever used the phrase “old friend” around her before, she was sure.

  Her stomach dropped when she reached Sey-Laht’s residence only to be told by Seechen that he awaited her in the oval-gate chamber. Feeling very much unprepared for another journey to Key-Tar-Om, she dutifully went directly to the Chey building that housed the gate. There she found a manic Sey-Laht.

  “Yi-La, bring that bag to the gate,” he told her as he moved quickly to retrieve a long pole of some kind.

  The pole was within a leather case, and she had never seen its like before. When he handed it to her she found it thick and heavy but not too much for her to carry with one hand. Whatever it was, the case marked it as being special: it was embroidered with numerous arcane symbols, including those representing all four elements.

  The bag on the floor near the gate was more of a satchel, and so she could see various items laid out in it. There was a rod of brass that was as long as her forearm, and several more made of various other materials. She then noticed this master was wearing robes that seemed to have an odd depth to them – it was like looking into a grayish darkness containing flashes of other colors.

  Sey-Laht consulted tomes and scrolls alike as he rushed about the chamber, making her worry about what could be so urgent. Ich-Mek and dracomon were the only things that came to mind. She was hopeful, though, that he wouldn’t let harm come to Ich-Mek; he had said he wouldn’t.

  “Close up the bag!” he commanded her as he came to stand next to her at the gate. “Now listen carefully…I’m going to teach you how to activate it from Apa-Ton.”

  It was getting dark here on the Mountain of the Mage, which she was thinking was also true in the capital. Teleportation portals seemed to mess with her sense of time, though. Why she was here carrying a heavy bag, and what she now guessed was a staff, she couldn’t say. Master Sey-Laht hadn’t told her. All she knew was that she was expected to activate the oval-gate from here when the time came.

  “Lay out the rods, and the other items,” he told her excitedly as he walked off toward a distant shrine.

  She had never had the opportunity to explore the simple open-air shrine on her o
ther three visits here. Now she wondered, after carefully unbuckling the satchel, if this was perhaps the right moment. When he entered the shrine, she thought she best not disturb him. She regretted her decision after a cold wind began to blow.

  The old mage seemed to be meditating within the shrine, and this he did until perhaps midnight. By then, Yi-La was freezing and wondering why she had never bothered to learn some kind of warming spell. She would, she promised herself, right after activating the oval-gate.

  When he did finally leave the shrine and start heading back toward her, she quickly got up off the satchel, which was helping to keep her off the cold ground. Apprehensively, she waited until he walked up to her and grabbed her wrist almost painfully and stared at her with wild eyes.

  He told her forcefully, “Be my witness to the Tres-Moda, young dragon-mage. Find the worthy!”

  “Yes, master,” she said above the wind with a confused and frightened look on her face.

  “Now go down to the hundredth step, Yi-La, and remain there until called.” He commanded this as he pointed to the great stairs that led down to the school far below. She had been forced to use the steps once before when she had been taken forcibly by him and Master Gang from out of the selection chamber. The students left behind her in the selection chamber were all dead, save Ich-Mek – a fact she still refused to believe.

  “The Tres-Moda ceremony can be alarming to some…and hazardous,” he warned in a voice that continued to grow louder even though she was moving quickly away.

  She was getting truly frightened now, and giving serious thought to running all the way down the mountain to the school. At least there would be rational people.

  “Find someone worthy of it!” the mage yelled out.

  She nearly slipped several times in her rush to obey and to get away from him. By the time she had reached what she hoped was the hundredth step, he and the summit of Apa-Ton were all but out of sight. Using glow cantrips to light her way, she was amazed to find the step marked. It was inscribed in arcane-script with the words Tres-Moda. She still didn’t know what it meant.

  Then the whole night lit up, as if from dragon fire.

  __________________________

  Her ears still rang, even though much of the time she had covered them with her hands. Her night vision had suffered as well – but it appeared to have recovered now that all had been silent for most of what she guessed was an hour. Still there was no sign of dawn, nor anything else for that matter.

  Not a peep had come from the summit, and she began to fear her master had forgotten her. Hopefully she could still activate the oval-gate. Working up the nerve to take her first step, she took it finally, and looked down to watch her foot pass over the inscription. What this ceremony was she still couldn’t fathom, and soon she was rushing up the steps.

  “Ohhh master!” she yelled out when she saw him lying near the top of the steps.

  Sey-Laht was on his back with his arms and legs spread wide, and was unmoving. Around him were discarded rods that appeared blackened. Furthermore, the great staff she had carried for him was near his side, but was now splintered into several pieces.

  As she tentatively approached the softly glowing mage, words came from his mouth, but she swore she didn’t see his lips move. “Find someone worthy,” the mage said for the last time.

  “Ahhh!” she gasped when his whole form turned ivory-white for a moment. Then great cracks appeared in it.

  Moments later, all that was Sey-Laht blew away like ash on the wind.

  She sat there crying and rocking with her knees pressed to her chest for a very long time. Always her eyes were drawn to the ring. It was the only evidence left of him.

  When she noticed dots of light moving between the lower summit of Key-Tar-Om and that of Apa-Ton, she knew she had to make a decision: either leave the ring for the Regent and his men to find, or take it with her. The last option was to simply sit here and wait for Ober-Toss, but she found this the least appealing of all.

  Her hand shook as she reached for the ring, but then she snatched her hand back before she had touched it. It might be a test, she told herself; perhaps Sey-Laht wasn’t really dead. Deciding now to see how much time she had, she crawled a few paces toward the stairs to look down. She could recognize torches now, and the uniforms of Pus-Don guards.

  It suddenly irked her that the Regent would get to decide who would wear the ring. That couldn’t be true though, she quickly reminded herself. Only a dragon-mage could place the ring on someone’s finger. Still, he would have some say in the matter if she didn’t move quickly.

  Snatching up the ring, she then dashed to the portal site. After a few carefully whispered syllables of arcane-script, she left Apa-Ton behind, knowing full well now why it was known as the Mountain of the Mage.

  Chapter 34 – Shu-Whet

  Her form was very pleasing to Ich-Mek. She had come out of the dark river shortly after the monks had dragged him ashore. How she did it he still wasn’t sure, as As-Cheen couldn’t swim before the dragon came, he was sure. Now he watched her walk ahead of him, and the memories of his fears those few nights ago made him want to rush up now and hug her to him.

  “She would call me weak,” he muttered under his breath.

  They avoided the river, but that meant walking along the base of high mountains, which were not as far from the river as he would have wished. He could only guess how much slower they were traveling now, but was convinced it was less than half their former rate. Every day’s delay seemed another day to worry about dragons.

  The monks seemed the only ones not paranoid enough to keep glancing up at the sky every time they heard a noise. As-Cheen did this like a rabbit fearing a hawk, though Ich-Mek knew she would never admit it. He, too, jumped at normally innocuous things.

  “We need to get further from the river,” Ich-Mek told the monks when they stopped to eat.

  They had heard this from him often over the last few days, he knew, but still felt compelled to tell them. Like now, they would nod their heads in understanding, and tell him the land would widen, and other river valleys would come. At that point they assured him they could get away from the Ju River.

  “What’s over these mountains?” he asked, not for the first time.

  They looked very difficult to climb, but not beyond his experience, he assured himself. The Cold-Daughters were higher than these, and he and Tass had climbed through those. With As-Cheen’s help he thought it a real possibility, particularly if there was snow and ice up there. These the elf could walk through like the rest of the world walked through grass.

  “You have told us of Shu-Whet, the snow-master,” Buo reminded him. “Would not he be up there?”

  The thought hadn’t occurred to him before, and now that he stared at the high peaks he began to regret suggesting they climb them. “Better him than a dragon,” he declared as he looked to As-Cheen for support.

  “Noo!” As-Cheen replied without hesitation. “Dragons do not think.”

  “Yes, but they breathe fire, not ice,” he retorted.

  “Ice can burn,” she assured him.

  After the meal, Buo mentioned that there was a pass coming, but it would not be open to them. “The Jo Pass would put us on the Dap River, instead of the Ju,” Buo explained. “Both lead to the Grand Canal.”

  “Who closes a pass?” Ich-Mek asked.

  “Those who can,” Buo replied with a smile.

  Ich-Mek raised his shoulders up in a slow shrug, saying, “We have silver, and is there no room to slip by?”

  “No room, and bribes without documents would not work.”

  The Jo Pass was explained to him as being a road cut through the mountains long ago and controlled now by the governors of both Wa and Imin province. The road was steep and inaccessible during all of winter and much of spring. There were many checkpoints, as the two provinces had a great distrust for one another.

  “This part of Wa had another name, as did Imin on the far side,”
Buo told Ich-Mek as they walked. “Many battles, and wars even, were lost or won because of the Jo Pass.”

  Ich-Mek gave up at this point, knowing the pass would take them in the wrong direction anyway. No doubt they would lose moons of time before reaching where the Ju hit the Grand Canal, which was where they were heading now.

  “You want to go,” As-Cheen declared from behind him.

  She startled him, causing him to look up toward the sky fearfully. “Please be…careful!” he snapped.

  “You mean noisy, like you.”

  “Hmm!” he growled irritably. “I would like to go to see my friend Rish,” he admitted. “He was posted to Imin City…and I thought if we went through there I could…” He trailed off as he didn’t see any point now in talking about it.

  “Not wise, I think,” Buo suggested. “The Regent may have sent spies to watch for you.”

  Ich-Mek grimaced at the idea of such a bold move by Ober-Toss. “Well, I wouldn’t want them to just watch him for the rest of his life.”

  “Unlikely to harm your friend,” Buo replied.

  Ich-Mek smiled at the monk’s optimism, and went on thinking about Rish. There was another reason he wanted to speak with his friend, but knew it unwise to let the travel-monks know – particularly since it involved Shrindala Temple. He wasn’t sure his letter to Tang and Bose would get through, so thought perhaps Rish might find a way to get a letter to them. He kept thinking about the temple’s quantum, and the bones of dragon-mages in it. Neeq had hinted strongly there were such bones there. This left the possibility of Owesek-rings being in the quantum.

  “How long will it take Shrindala to empty its quantum again?” he dared to ask Buo. When the monk looked questioningly at him, he quickly added, “My friend Rish wishes to be interred there.”