“If Zod finds out his brother’s dead, it’ll be war,” she said.
“What makes you think Zod doesn’t know?” She suddenly looked frightened. “My dear Lord Vicia, Gothemus’s son knows. His apprentice knows. Do you really believe one of them didn’t tell Zod?
“It seems to me the best thing to do is continue with our research, so we can get the Eye of the Dragon before Zod and his army arrive. I have magic I haven’t attempted yet, and, if necessary, we can resort to hiring a necromancer. In the meantime, we need to stall Calibot and his friends.”
She nodded absently, her face still covered in horror. He shook his head. What sort of business did she think she was getting into when she agreed to murder Gothemus Draco?
“Convince the other Elders Calibot cannot have the body,” Elmanax said. “Instruct them to tell him Gothemus was murdered and the investigation is ongoing. Stall so I may continue my research. Otherwise, we’re all doomed.”
Vicia met his gaze on the last remark. The look of worry on her face turned to one of anger and determination.
“This was your plan, Elmanax,” she said. “You assured me it would work. If it fails, I’ll make sure you’re as doomed as the rest of us.”
“Touching sentiment,” he hissed. “But don’t threaten me again, human, or you’ll be dearly sorry.”
Vicia held his gaze for a little longer. He did his best to look intimidating. He might have only been as tall as her knee, but he was immortal. She wasn’t.
After a moment, she turned on her heel and went back to the stairs.
“I mean it,” she said as she ascended. “You may be a gnome, Elmanax, but you’re not invincible or omnipotent. If you bring us to ruin, you’ll pay too.”
He scowled at her retreating form. Her empty threats were the least of his problems. He did not fear Lord Vicia or the Council of Elders. Humans were no match for him. He hopped up and turned back to Gothemus.
“Now,” he said, “you will give up your secrets, Gothemus Draco. You’re a human, and you’re dead. I beat you. It’s just a matter of time until I have what is mine.”
Chapter 10: An Answer from the Council
Calibot wasn’t his usual self. That much was obvious.
Devon couldn’t help but worry. Ever since he’d learned of his father’s death, Calibot had become a shell of himself. The clever, funny Calibot was gone. His replacement was cold, distant, and angry.
Devon was beginning to regret this journey. Every step took Calibot further away from him. From learning Gothemus had died to receiving the strange sword to watching Liliana’s frequent mishaps to arriving in Eldenberg, Calibot seemed to fade away, leaving behind a specter to haunt Devon’s memories of who he’d been. Now, with the Council of Elders demurring on releasing Gothemus’s body, Calibot had retreated even further inside his mind.
He paced the floor of the cramped quarters they’d been given, wrapping his fingers around the hilt of Wyrmblade and then releasing it over and over. Grip. Release. Grip. Release. Dark shadows played across his face, revealing a brooding storm of thoughts. What they were, Devon couldn’t guess, but he feared he would lose Calibot forever if this mess didn’t come to some resolution soon.
“What if they don’t give us the body,” Liliana asked, startling Devon by breaking the silence.
“They will,” Calibot said, appearing unperturbed by her question. “He is my father. They have no right to deny me.”
Devon’s eyes opened wide. This was the first time he’d heard Calibot acknowledge Gothemus as his father without reluctance. What had changed?
“Calibot’s right,” he said. “The law is on our side.”
Calibot resumed pacing and fingering his sword. Grip. Release. Grip. Release. Devon had seen this sort of behavior before on the battlefield. Soldiers played with their weapons to channel the nerves they felt before a fight. Calibot was clearly spoiling for one himself. His brow was furrowed. He scowled. He was looking for someone to attack.
Devon wanted to weep at the sight of him. His curly, brown hair had lost its luster. His cheeks, usually pink, were grey with anger. His bright, blue eyes seemed the color of a bottomless ocean. This was not Calibot, Poet Laureate to His Majesty Duke Boordin’s Court in Dalasport. This was someone Devon hadn’t seen before – the son of Gothemus Draco.
There was a knock at the door, causing everyone but Calibot to jump. Devon was irritated. He was so tense. This was ridiculous.
He went to the door and opened it. A soldier in the green uniform of Eldenberg stood at attention outside. Reflexively, Devon gripped his sword, preparing for a fight. To his horror, he saw Calibot do the same out of the corner of his eye.
“I have a message from the Council of Elders,” the soldier said. His face was completely impassive.
“What is it?” Devon said.
“The Council is unable to release the body of Gothemus Draco at this time,” he answered. “He was murdered while visiting Eldenberg. The Council is concerned about how this occurred and what it may mean. It is therefore conducting a full-scale investigation, which, unfortunately, necessitates an examination of the body. As soon as this matter has concluded, you will be allowed to take your father home.
“The Council of Elders deeply regrets this inconvenience and offers you its sincerest condolences on your loss.”
He fell silent and stood looking flatly ahead. Devon couldn’t believe what he’d heard. They were holding the body pending a murder investigation? After two weeks?
“Just what is it the Council is hoping to learn from the body,” Devon asked.
“I have no further information to offer, sir,” the soldier said. “I was only given the message I’ve delivered. If you desire, I will wait for a reply and take it to the Council of Elders for you, but I can’t answer any of your questions.”
Calibot yanked his sword out of its sheath and came forward like he meant to attack the soldier. The messenger took a step back instinctively.
“You tell the Council—” Calibot began, but Devon put a hand up to block him in the chest.
“—that this is completely unacceptable,” Devon finished. “The Council has had more than two weeks to conduct any investigation that would necessitate examining the body. It has no legal right to deny us. We expect Gothemus Draco’s remains released to us forthwith. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” the soldier said.
His expression was no longer flat. He looked a little scared.
“Then go,” Devon said. “We don’t wish to wait any longer than we have to.”
The messenger nodded once and marched away as quickly as he could manage. Devon slammed the door shut and turned on Calibot.
“What is the matter with you?” he demanded.
“What’s the matter with me?” Calibot replied. “What’s the matter with you? They are denying me my father’s body. They need to understand that is a very poor idea.”
Devon searched Calibot’s face. He barely recognized it. The features were nearly the same, but his eyes shone with a vengeful light. His normally soft skin looked hard and determined.
“Boys,” Liliana said, sounding worried. Devon ignored her.
“Do you realize we could be arrested for what you did?” Devon said. “You threatened one of their officials. If you’d attacked him, you could be thrown in jail for months, maybe even years.”
“They wouldn’t dare,” Calibot scoffed.
“Wouldn’t they? This is an extremely sensitive matter, Calibot. Your father was murdered. They have admitted so themselves. They are clearly trying to cover up what really happened, or they would have released the body to you already. Your father’s death, especially since it was not natural, will throw the balance of power completely out of order. Someone is playing a very dangerous game, and, if they are willing to murder the most powerful sorcerer in the world, they will think nothing of doing the same to his poet son. You need to be careful. They don’t see you as a threat.”
“
So maybe it’s time to teach them otherwise,” Calibot growled.
“Boys,” Liliana said a little more insistently.
Devon stared at Calibot again. It was as though he’d been possessed by some demonic spirit.
“What’s gotten into you?” Devon said. “I’ve never seen you like this. I understand your father’s death is upsetting you, and I understand his passing means you can’t ever make the peace with him you want, but this isn’t you, Calibot. You’re acting crazy.”
Calibot’s expression darkened further. His eyes narrowed, and he took a step forward.
“Maybe you just don’t know me, Devon,” he said. “Maybe this is always who I’ve been and you’ve just been too blinded by your infatuation to see it.”
“Boys!” Liliana shouted.
They both turned to her with an annoyed look. Devon stopped cold when he saw her looking terrified and pointing at Calibot.
“Look at the sword,” she said.
Devon and Calibot both turned their attention to Wyrmblade. Both of them gaped when they saw it. The blade was burning. Small flames licked at the edges as though it had been dipped in oil and then set ablaze, but the fire seemed to have no source. The sword burned all on its own.
Calibot looked alarmed and tossed it to the ground. It clattered on the stone floor, and the flames went out. Everyone stared at it, astonished.
“How did you do that?” Liliana whispered.
Calibot turned and looked at her with fear in his eyes.
“I didn’t do it,” he said. “I didn’t even know it was happening.”
He turned and looked back at Devon. The Calibot Devon knew was back. All the anger was gone. His eyes were bright blue again. The luster was back in his hair, the color in his skin.
But he looked terrified. He was shaking. His eyes pleaded with Devon to make it better.
“What’s happening to me?” he said.
Devon came forward and wrapped him in an embrace. Calibot didn’t return it very strongly. He put his arms around Devon but otherwise just stood there shaking. Devon ran his fingers through Calibot’s curls.
“It’s okay,” he soothed. “Everything’s fine. I’m here.”
Calibot started weeping. It was soft at first, but it quickly escalated to huge, wracking sobs. Devon tightened his embrace, and Calibot held him as though he would die if he let go.
Liliana stared in wonder at the two of them. She gave the appearance of never having seen two people in love. Perhaps she hadn’t. She wasn’t terribly old, and she’d been laboring as Gothemus’s apprentice for who knew how long. Maybe love was something she’d never felt or seen.
After several minutes, Calibot let go and withdrew. He said thank you without looking at Devon. He wiped tears from his eyes.
“So,” Liliana said, “if you didn’t make the sword ignite, how did it happen?”
Devon sighed. The woman seemed emotionless at times. He wondered if she hadn’t found her way into the role of sorcerer’s apprentice, because she was too socially awkward to do anything else. Locked away in a dark tower and bent over a cauldron with no one to talk to but her equally reclusive master, she had not perhaps learned any sensitivity.
“Do we really need to discuss the sword at the moment?” he said.
“Well,” she replied as though his question wasn’t rhetorical, “clearly it’s capable of some things we didn’t realize. Those may prove an advantage in our dealings with the Council of Elders.”
“I wish I’d never seen that sword,” Calibot said. “I’m going to lock it away in its case and forget about it.”
“You can’t do that,” Liliana said.
“Why not?”
“Because your father gave it to you,” she said. “It has some purpose in the recovery of his body and its deliverance back to the tower. You have got to use it.”
“I have got to do nothing!” he shouted. “They won’t release the body to us, and I’m already tired of this trip. I just want to go home. I say, we forget about my father and return to Dalasport.”
Devon smiled. He had his Calibot back. He looked like himself. He sounded like himself. It was a welcome development.
“I don’t think that’s practical,” he said despite his desire to do exactly what Calibot suggested.
“Why not?”
“Because the political situation that brought us here in the first place hasn’t changed,” Devon replied. “Your father is still dead, creating a huge power vacuum. Your uncle either knows and is marching this way, or he will know soon and come.
“Moreover, we have confirmation Gothemus was murdered, and, given that the Council of Elders has refused to give us the body, it looks like they were involved somehow. My thought is this is a calculated assassination to strengthen Eldenberg. At the very least, that’s going to cause a war between the Council and Zod, and one way or the other it threatens Dalasport.
“I’m an advisor to Duke Boordin, Calibot. I’ve sworn fealty to him. In a way, so have you. We’re compelled to act in Dalasport’s best interests. Given the situation, I think that means we have to get your father’s body away from Eldenberg and at least try to complete whatever plan he had for you.”
Calibot gaped at him. The hurt in his eyes cut Devon to his heart.
“Your allegiance to the duke is more important than me?” he said.
“No,” Devon said, putting a soothing tone in his voice. “But my work is part of who I am, Calibot. Being involved with me means being involved with the duke’s politics. I have to act. If you won’t, then I will ask you for the sword and continue without you. And if you won’t give me the sword, then I’ll try to do what’s necessary without it.”
“You’d break up with me over this!”
“Of course not.” Devon took a step forward and put his hand on Calibot’s shoulder. “When this is over, I’d return to you. I want to be with you, Calibot. I love you. I just have to do my job too.”
“But that’s not why you came here,” Calibot protested.
“I know. I came to support you. In doing so, I’ve discovered something that bears further investigation on the duke’s behalf. It’s coincidental, but it makes me no less obligated to act.
“Calibot, I have to follow through on my commitment to Duke Boordin. I believe it is imperative we get your father away from the Council of Elders and attempt to fulfill his last wishes. I don’t know why, and I don’t know what your father intended. But everything I’ve discovered here leads me to believe there is a plot afoot that endangers Dalasport, and, since the Council is trying to keep us from doing what Gothemus wanted, I have to assume that their keeping his remains is bad. The only reasonable thing to do under those circumstances is get the body away from them. I would prefer to have you with me, but I understand if you refuse.
“Regardless, I love you, and this doesn’t change how I feel about you. It just means I’ll have to see you when I get back.”
Calibot stared at him. For a moment, Devon couldn’t tell if his words had penetrated or not. The sense of betrayal was still sharp in his love’s gaze. Then Calibot’s shoulders sagged, and he sighed heavily. He walked over to Wyrmblade, picked it up, and put it back in its scabbard.
“So now what?” he said.
“Well, we’ve got to figure out some way to get your father’s body away from them,” Devon replied.
“First we have to figure out where it is,” Liliana put in.
“Good point,” Devon said. “We don’t know for sure they have it, but, based on their reactions at our audience, they know where it is. Do you have any magic that could locate it?”
Liliana thought for a moment. Her face screwed up in concentration before relaxing back into a defeatist expression.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “The only way I would know to track someone is if we had something that belonged to them, but it would have to be very personal, very important.”
Devon stared at her in disbelief. He didn’t know anything
about magic, but it seemed to him the answer was pretty obvious.
“You mean like Wyrmblade?” he said.
“No, that wouldn’t work,” she replied. “It wasn’t something that was important to him. It didn’t have any significance to him personally.”
“Then why would he make sure to give it to me in a case only I could open,” Calibot asked before Devon could.
Liliana turned to him, opened her mouth to reply, and then snapped it shut. Her face lit up with sudden understanding.
“Good point!” she said. “It must have some significance to him, or he wouldn’t have made sure I delivered it to you without me knowing what it was.”
“So you can use it to track Gothemus’s body?” Devon said.
“No,” she replied. “I don’t know that type of spell.”
“What!” Calibot and Devon exclaimed together.
“Liliana,” Devon said, “I thought you said you knew how to track someone with an object important to them.”
“No,” she explained, “I said that’s the only kind of magic I know of that can do that. I didn’t say I knew how to do it.”
Calibot looked like he was going to kill her. Devon couldn’t help but share the sentiment.
“All right, let’s think,” he said. “It stands to reason Gothemus understood he was going to die. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have made all these elaborate preparations. It therefore further stands to reason he would have anticipated the Council refusing to turn over the body and Calibot needing to find it. We’ve established that the sword was important to him, because he specifically instructed Liliana to bring it to Calibot without telling her what it was. Finally, we know that it is possible to magically locate someone by using an object that was important to them. Since Gothemus was the most powerful wizard anyone has ever known, he must have accounted for all that.”
“How does any of that help us?” Calibot said.
Devon thought for a moment. It all had to tie together. It had to. Someone like Gothemus Draco didn’t miss details like this. You just had to figure out the puzzle.
“Calibot,” Devon said, measuring his words carefully, “you said you didn’t make the sword catch fire. I think you did.”
The Sword and the Sorcerer Page 7