When we had gotten about fifty yards from the structure, we turned and watched it disintegrate into a pile of rubble over the course of about thirty seconds, which was an impressive thing to watch. I had seen stock footage of the old stadium in Seattle being imploded, which was obviously a more impressive display but there was something tragic about seeing a stone building which should have stood for hundreds, or even thousands of years crumbling in front of my very eyes. It was an image which would burn itself into my mind for the rest of my life.
After the structure had settled into a fairly uniform pile of rubble, I opened my pack and withdrew the two small bundles which contained the raw mythicite I had promised to Co’Zar’I’Us. I carefully unwrapped the spherical housing, which was made of a special kind of ceramic I had never seen before that glinted in the sunlight as though it had bits of metal in it.
I hoped that all I would have to do was touch the stuff in order to initiate the transfer, but I doubted it would be that easy. I removed the lid-like section from the ball and stuck my fingertips into the shimmering, dust-like material before closing my eyes and summoning Co’Zar’I’Us’ name into my mind.
The spell appeared in my mind’s eye, and I tried to will something to happen, and for a moment nothing did.
But then my hand got hot, and I looked down to see smoke rising from the container. I closed my eyes and focused on directing the energy into the spell, even though I had no idea how to do that.
The spell seemed to roll over in my mind, and it felt like a race against the growing heat caused by contact between the mythicite and my skin.
Then the spell seemed to reconfigure itself slightly, and the heat shot up my arm and exploded throughout the rest of my body. Rather than reducing the burning pain, I had intensified it tenfold, but I could see a silvery glow throughout my mind’s eye which seemed to form a vortex within the spell that resembled a whirlpool.
After a few agonizing seconds, the sensation disappeared and the spell disappeared from my mind’s eye.
I looked into the container and saw that it was empty, save for a small bit of metallic dust at the bottom. I breathed a sigh of relief and briefly considered holding the second cup back until later, but then I decided it was best to do as I had agreed.
I repeated the process, and this time it was significantly less painful for some reason. Nothing else seemed different, but after no more than five seconds of intense heat, the second container of mythicite was empty.
My companions were looking at me with varying degrees of interest, with Baeld and Pi’Vari occupying opposite ends of the spectrum, naturally.
“I have never seen that particular ritual enacted in person,” admitted Pi’Vari with clear interest. “You seemed to be in pain for a moment,” he pressed in mock concern.
I stuffed the empty globes back in my pack and shook my head. “Not really,” I lied, “it was just a little surprising. I probably would have liked it if I had known what to expect,” I finished with my best straight face. I really hoped he believed me and that I would have occasion to let him have his own experience with mythicite sometime in the near future.
We gathered our horses, who had understandably spooked and scattered when the house had collapsed and made our way off the ruined grounds.
Chapter XIX: The Next Step
I knew I couldn’t cast the spell detailed in the book on my own, and I sure as hell didn’t want to go back to Veldyrian, so figuring out our next move was something of a dilemma. Ultimately, I decided it was best if we made our way back to Coldetz.
I couldn’t help but think I had made a mistake by striking my bargain with Co’Zar’I’Us, but it was hard to argue that there was another way to save Dancer’s life. If the choice had been mine, I doubt I would have accepted the Cloud King’s offer, but there was no way to say for certain without actually going through it. I seriously hoped that I would never find a definitive answer to that particular question.
So we re-mounted our horses and rode toward Coldetz, which was increasingly feeling like the closest thing I had to a home.
I studied the spell tome every opportunity I got, trying to figure out what the exact purpose of the spell actually was. It was clear that there were several components of the complete ritual, and that these components might actually be used independently of each other under certain circumstances.
The first part of the ritual seemed to deal with, for lack of a better word, sundering a person’s consciousness into several fragments which could survive indefinitely without the presence of the others. I doubted it was anything like the process used to create Baeld or Gaeld, but it was more than a little disturbing to think about a person’s identity being reduced to its component parts.
There were explanations of how the psyche should be separated, with the most important aspect being that it required centering each new ‘shard’ of the previously whole personality on a single, driving force or characteristic. Some possible characteristics which would serve as acceptable ‘anchor points’—as they were referred to a few times—were pride, ambition, compassion and patience, along with an assortment of other examples.
But the part I focused on most was the Somnomancy section of the ritual, which I found to be more than a little disturbing. Apparently, this particular expression of Dream Magic was more than just that; it delved into the transference of consciousness from one person’s body to another’s, even across great distances.
Nothing was mentioned of what would happen to the target’s body, or to the new host body’s previous consciousness for that matter, and that was the most disturbing part. There were ominous references to ‘establishing control,’ as well as ‘inducing a persistent dream-like state to facilitate the transfer,’ the ramifications of which chilled me to the bone.
It took days of examination just to learn that much, and without reference materials like those in Master Antolin’s private library I was unlikely to learn anything else of value from continued study.
And that was looking more and more like my next stop, the prospect of which carried with it problems almost too numerable to list, in my opinion. But the top issues were definitely clear in my mind.
First, Pi’Vari would be free to report to whoever it was he might be working for, which would almost certainly bring about both immediate and long-term consequences. Under different circumstances I would have viewed re-entering Veldyrian as an opportunity to discover his true master’s identity, but I knew there was no way I would have time to pursue that particular issue.
Second, I would have to make Coldetz’s mythicite a matter of Imperial record, which could bring with it an avalanche of paperwork that could very well tie me down for weeks—assuming I was able to avoid the inevitable pitfalls that Veldyrian’s bureaucracy threw my way.
Third, I knew that bringing Baeld into the gates would cause its own mess of paperwork, which said nothing of Arch Magos Rekir’s inevitable interest given how hard he had pushed to acquire Gaeld. I had already met that proverbial dragon in its lair and survived to tell about it, and while I had no desire to repeat the experience it looked like he would have to be my first stop.
Fourth, I would have to answer for Antolin’s disappearance to the powers that be—which essentially meant answering to Arch Magos Rekir. Fortunately, House Wiegraf was a less-than-notable house, having earned only one selection in the annual draft during its entire history. But there would still be official inquests, not to mention the issue of tending to House Wiegraf’s finances and other dealings—like those with House Listoh, who in certain matters was House Wiegraf’s partner in practice, if not in name. I was unclear just how far that relationship extended into our affairs, but it was highly probable that I was soon going to learn.
So I made my plan and wasted no time in gathering my cadre to present them with our latest course of action.
“We are leaving Baeld?” blurted Pi’Vari incredulously. “You may as yet be unaware,” he continued sarcastically, �
�but he has proven quite useful, and you are currently without a Champion. Aemir’s absence will cause enough questions by itself, but for an adventuring Imperial Wizard to be seen without his Champion would not only be a serious breach of protocol; it would provide a tempting target for your enemies which they could not resist!”
I nodded slowly, having heard my herald say absolutely nothing I had not already considered. “Baeld stays in Coldetz,” I replied adamantly.
Pi’Vari shook his head repeatedly. “You will not survive a week in Veldyrian without a worthy Champion to dissuade challenges from your rivals,” he pleaded. “If you fall, all of us fall—along with House Wiegraf!”
I nodded again. “I understand that,” I assured him, “which is why I won’t be entering Veldyrian without a proper Champion.”
Pi’Vari folded his arms defiantly across his chest. “You have been fortunate to be graced with the services of not one, but three suitably fearsome warriors who would serve as your Champion: Gaeld, Aemir and now Baeld,” he argued, ticking off points on his fingers emphatically. “You must not squander such good fortune by placing our collective futures in the hands of some random provincial soldier!”
“I have no intention of selecting a soldier from Coldetz as my newest Champion,” I said evenly, “but your math skills could apparently use some work.”
My herald’s eyebrow arched. “Indeed?” he asked venomously.
I nodded. “By my count, I’ve had four,” I held up the fingers on my right hand, “not three fearsome warriors who could ably serve as my Champion.”
Pi’Vari scoffed before realization dawned on his face. “You cannot be serious,” he snapped, but after a moment of searching my eyes he apparently realized I was. “Jezran,” he began, a bit more restrained, “the point of a Champion is to keep your enemies at bay, not to engage them at every possible turn. There is more to selecting a Champion than identifying combat prowess,” he explained in that lecturing tone I despised.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know,” I countered, “it seems to me like if someone wants a fight, maybe they should get one.” I turned to Dancer, who had been quietly picking his fingernails on the tip of his spear. “What do you say, little man?” I asked in a raised voice. “Would you like the job?”
Dancer looked up from his ad hoc manicure and glanced back and forth between Pi’Vari and I. He was silent for a few moments before finally responding, “Dancer not know Champion Dance.”
I shook my head. “Dancer knows the Champion Dance very well. In fact,” I pressed, “I think Dancer will do the Champion Dance exactly the way we need it to be done.”
Dancer looked skeptical, but nodded his head curtly. “New Dance good,” he said, standing to his full height of barely four feet. “Old steps tired.”
Pi’Vari rolled his eyes, but I ignored him. I extended my hand to Dancer, and he marched over to accept it. “Then you,” I said after gripping the little man’s hand, “are my new Champion. I have a feeling that you’ll be tested as soon as we get back to Veldyrian.”
Dancer returned my grip, and if his hands hadn’t been so small, his strength would have been incredible. As it was, it felt like I was gripping a solid wood carving, rather than a flesh and blood hand.
“Dancer not Aemir,” the little man said pointedly. “No talk; just fight.”
“I understand that, Dancer,” I assured him, “and truthfully, I’m counting on it.” Dancer nodded confidently, and I heard Pi’Vari start chuckling. I turned to my herald and snapped, “What’s so funny?”
“I hope you know what you are doing, Jezran,” he replied with a sigh of resignation. “Our lives depend on it.”
“Not just our lives,” I corrected him. “There are thousands of people depending on us to protect them now in the Coldetz Reach.”
“Of course,” sneered Pi’Vari, “we must not forget the mewling provincial masses, whose societal practices and lack of foresight have brought them to the very brink of annihilation. And who was it that swept in and saved them from said annihilation?” He looked around pointedly. “Ah, yes, that would be us: those tyrannical oppressors who deserve their unbridled scorn and hatred!”
I slowly rounded on my herald. “I told you before,” I warned as I unconsciously balled my hand into a fist, “that you would either change your tune, or you would learn when to be silent.”
My herald gritted his teeth, and in that moment I saw something flicker in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before. He nodded stiffly before adding, “Just how do you expect us to return to Veldyrian, in any event? The trip out here would have taken months, or perhaps even a year, without magical assistance and I doubt the return will be any easier. If we undertake such an expedition, there will almost certainly be nothing remaining of Coldetz when we return.” Pi’Vari folded his arms across his chest defiantly. “So how do you propose to return to the Imperial City in a more timely manner?”
I shook my head and sighed, “I’m afraid that’s the easy part.”
Chapter XX: A Quick Trip
“So we have an agreement?” I pressed, hoping to conclude this business as quickly as possible.
Co’Zar’I’Us scowled as his physical form swirled, currently in the form of a relatively peaceful thundercloud. “I am perfectly capable of transporting your cadre back to your precious city,” he replied in a measured tone, “but you were somewhat duplicitous in our previous agreement.”
I cocked an eyebrow in mock surprise. “Oh?” I asked innocently. “I’m hurt that you would even suggest such a thing.”
The Cloud King’s eyes narrowed. “Even the most foolish Guild Initiate knows that during negotiations such as ours, measurements of mythicite are to refer to its purified form. You supplied me with raw mythicite, which is considerably less valuable.”
I feigned sympathy, enjoying the moment as much as I could. “I had no idea,” I said in an assuring tone, “I’d thought that two cups of raw mythicite was more than enough to satisfy the terms of our bargain.” I shrugged my shoulders emphatically. “I probably would have known the difference between raw and refined mythicite if I were a Guild Initiate, as you suggest. But unfortunately, I am not,” I finished pointedly.
Co’Zar’I’Us shook his head. “You play a dangerous game,” he warned, “but you are at least partially correct: two cups of raw mythicite is more than sufficient to satisfy our previous agreement.”
“Then we have an agreement?” I repeated.
The Cloud King considered for a few moments, then nodded. “Doing as you ask will require considerable energy, but I will comply. I will require replenishment sooner than expected, however,” he added hastily.
I nodded courteously. “Of course,” I agreed as evenly as I could, “after you have successfully conveyed my party to Veldyrian and back to Coldetz, you’ll receive another cup of mythicite.”
Co’Zar’I’Us scowled. “You leave little room for error,” he warned, “but your proposal is acceptable—provided that the next cup is refined mythicite, rather than raw.”
“Of course,” I replied agreeably, “I would never knowingly contradict established Guild protocols.”
The Cloud King rumbled, something between a growl and a snort, and it was clear my little façade wasn’t fooling anyone. Thankfully, that wasn’t the point.
“When you are ready, I shall transport you to the Imperial City,” he said with a hint of annoyance.
“I believe we’re ready now,” I answered. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to returning to the seat of Imperial power in the region, but it looked like I had no choice in the matter, so it was better to get it over with rather than sitting around waiting for the next catastrophe.
Co’Zar’I’Us nodded. “Then I shall return you to your realm,” he boomed. “But be warned that travel in this manner is considered to be…unpleasant by your kind, and I cannot provide this boon again for roughly one of your weeks.” He waved a newly formed arm composed of swirling mist and I felt myself
fall out of his realm.
I awoke to a loud roaring sound in my ears, and I opened my eyes to see Pi’Vari and Dancer standing over me with worried looks on their faces.
“Get ready,” was all I had time to say before they looked to the sky and we all saw our method of travel descend upon us.
I cannot describe the incredible feeling I had when looking up into the eye of a tornado which was slowly descending from a huge, dark cloud hovering directly above us in an otherwise clear sky. Lightning exploded throughout the massive cloud, and the thunderous reports simultaneously registered with the flashes indicating that we were very close to the cloud.
But I knew we were about to get a lot closer as I watched the swirling vortex descend down on our position. I tried to relax, but I would be lying if I said that I somehow succeeded. I did manage to retain control of my bowels and bladder, which was something.
The wind increased significantly the closer the cyclone came, until it slammed into the ground all around us. The inner diameter of the thing was no more than fifty feet, and it immediately began to constrict until it was no more than a few feet from us, at which point we were lifted off the ground and sent spinning.
I couldn’t see anything outside the swirling grey wall of the tornado, but I could see all kinds of debris which had been collected by the unnatural tempest including grass, twigs and small stones. There was even an animal of some kind which passed within a few feet of our position that looked to be a goat, but it passed from view too quickly to be certain.
The noise was incredible, about like I would have expected to experience when standing behind a jet engine before takeoff. Pi’Vari was clearly trying to yell something at me, but even though we were no more than three feet apart I couldn’t hear a single syllable for all of the roaring wind.
Revelation (Seeds of Humanity: The Cobalt Heresy) Page 24