Arcanius

by Toby Neighbors

  The room beyond was dark, but plush. They were on the upper level of Avondale, and the homes built into the city walls were extravagant. They felt a thick rug beneath their feet and they could see ornate furniture and plants in large delicate pots around the room. Light came in from a large window, and there were lamps casting light down onto the wide avenue just outside. There was no door to the street from the room they were in, so they slipped down another corridor, past a wide stairwell, and then into a vestibule that led to the outside.

  “Lucky,” Rafe whispered.

  “Like I said, they don’t expect trouble from this direction,” Lexi said. “But there are most likely guards just outside. We need to act like we belong and that leaving the house isn’t in any way strange.”

  “Okay, we can do that,” Tiberius said.

  “Once the guards question us, let me do the talking.”

  “Won’t they recognize us?” Rafe asked.

  “It’s possible, and if they do, be ready with that thing.”

  Lexi pointed at Rafe’s sword, and the young warrior smiled. Lexi knew that if they got into a sword fight on the upper level of the city, there was no way they would escape the paladins, but all she could hope for was that they wouldn’t be forced into a confrontation.

  She flung the door open wide and marched out.

  “That was the biggest waste of time,” she said angrily.

  Tiberius and Rafe struggled to keep up with her. There were two big men just outside the door. They eyed her suspiciously.

  “Rubin would never treat us so poorly,” Lexi went on, suddenly turning to face Tiberius. “It’s this house. The richer they get, the more impossible they are to please.”

  “You all, keep your voices down,” one of the guards said.

  “And keep moving,” the other ordered.

  “You see?” Lexi said. “My point exactly.”

  Tiberius hurried her along, and all three were breathing a sigh of relief. Lexi led them to a dark alleyway or alcove—she couldn’t be sure. But she was sure that they needed cloaks to cover their faces. On the lower levels, the city kept only a few lights, and most were rarely tended to the way they should have been. On the top level of the circular city, the wide street was clean and well lit. They were bound to pass paladins, city officials, or soldiers who might recognize Rafe or Tiberius.

  “Stay here,” she told them. “The palace is on the far side of the city. We need some cloaks so that you aren’t recognized.”

  “Where are we going to get cloaks?” Rafe asked.

  “You aren’t,” she said. “I am.”

  She pulled off her boots, checked her dagger, then scaled the wall to the second-story window. The dark alcove was set between two homes, and both had walls that had been pitted by wind, rain, and frost over the years. Finding tiny cracks for her fingers and toes was all too easy for someone as skilled as Lexi was at finding ways into homes at night. She peeked into the window while Tiberius and Rafe watched from below.

  The room inside was dark and empty. She slid her dagger between the wooden sill and the window frame. The simple lock was easily pushed aside, and the window raised. Lexi crawled in and took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the gloom. The room was filled with junk, just another wasted room in another mansion. The window faced the neighboring house, and the home’s occupants obviously preferred the rooms that looked out over the city. Lexi dug around a bit and found some piles of old clothes. After a few more minutes, she had two cloaks. Neither was big enough for Tiberius and Rafe, but they would serve in a pinch. She dropped them out the window into Rafe’s waiting arms.

  The climb down was easy, and by the time she reached the street, Rafe and Tiberius had the cloaks around their shoulders and the hoods pulled up over their heads. They couldn’t fasten the cloaks properly and instead held the garments closed at their chests with one hand.

  “You could have just dropped down a blanket,” Rafe said.

  “I would have if I’d found one,” Lexi said. “At least your face is in shadows.”

  “Won’t these cloaks make us stand out?” Tiberius said.

  “They don’t fit, but it’s a cool night,” Lexi argued. “We keep moving, and as long as no one recognizes your faces, we should be okay.”

  They set out again, staying in the shadows as much as possible. It was late, and there weren’t many people out. They saw some paladins, but they gave the trio only passing glances. Rafe’s sword might have drawn attention, but he had slung the weapon over his shoulder and kept it covered with his cloak.

  It took nearly half an hour to walk around to the earl’s palace. The big wooden doors were closed at such late hours, and there were guards stationed at the entrance. Lexi led them down to the next level and then turned to Tiberius.

  “Do you know a way in?” she asked.

  Rafe guffawed, and Tiberius elbowed him.

  “Yes,” Ti said. “I can take it from here.”

  “Good,” Lexi said. “I have some business to see to.”

  “What?” Tiberius asked in surprise.

  “There’s someone I need to see,” Lexi said. “It won’t take long. I’ll be back shortly after sunrise.”

  “And what if things go bad in the palace?” Rafe asked.

  “Then I’ll get out of the city and meet you by the sky ship. Besides, I’ll only be in the way in the earl’s palace. I don’t know my way around the way you two do.”

  “Promise me you’ll be safe,” Tiberius said.

  “I promise.”

  “Fine, but I want to see you after the sun comes up or I’ll scour the city looking for you.”

  Lexi leaned forward, rising up on her tiptoes and giving Tiberius a kiss. Then she turned and hurried away. Dancer landed on her shoulder just as she was hurrying down a staircase to the city’s third level.

  “We did it,” Lexi told Dancer. “Now you can rest until morning.”

  The wind glider cooed, wrapped its long tail around Lexi’s neck, then lay down on her shoulder. Lexi worked her way down and around the city, into the darker, narrower streets. She stayed in the shadows where she felt safest and looked for the landmarks that she used to navigate her way around the circular city. There were taverns and brothels on the lower levels of the city that never closed. Inns that only opened after the sun went down and catered to crowds that preferred the dark, shadowy interiors to any establishment on the upper levels of the city. Lexi made her way with confidence, even in the darkness. She was looking for someone, but she had to admit it felt good being home.

  Chapter 7

  Tiberius

  There was a light burning in the kitchen, and servants were starting to make the first loaves of bread for the day. There were still several hours before dawn, but the work in the palace kitchens rarely stopped. Tiberius and Rafe slipped over the fence that surrounded the chicken coop. The birds were sleeping and didn’t notice.

  “Just like old times,” Rafe whispered, referring to their teenage years.

  Tiberius remembered sneaking out of the palace with Rafe and roaming the city, then coming back in through the very same chicken coop.

  “Some things never change,” Tiberius replied.

  They opened the wooden door that led to a dark room where animals were slaughtered. The room was scrubbed clean almost daily but still smelled of death. Just beyond the butcher room was the palace kitchen. It was a huge space with massive ovens and long wooden work tables where meals were prepared. Lights had been lit near the ovens where a gaggle of servants were mixing dough and greasing pans to make the dozens of loaves that would be consumed by the earl’s family and city officials that made the palace their home. The side of the kitchen near the butcher room was dark, and Tiberius slipped quickly through the kitchen and into another dark corridor that was used by the servants. There was a narrow set of stairs, and Rafe followed Tiberius up toward the third floor where the earl’s residence was located.

  They cast off the cloaks and the
n quietly slipped into the wide hallway that led to the earl’s bedchamber. A guard stood outside the door, and there were lamps burning in sconces along the hallway. Tiberius and Rafe walked slowly toward the guard, neither trying to hide their identity. The guard was a young soldier and he recognized them as they came close.

  At first his mouth hung open in surprise, and then he raised his spear.

  “We aren’t here to hurt anyone,” Tiberius said, raising his hands.

  “You were banished. You can’t be here,” the guard said.

  “My father is very sick,” Tiberius said. “I’ve come to see him one last time.”

  “But how? I saw you leave the city.”

  “We’ve been across the blighted lands and back,” Rafe said with a cocky smile. “Want to hear about it?”

  “Well, yeah, but I can’t let you go in there,” the guard said. “No one can go in except his healers.”

  “Are they helping him?” Tiberius asked.

  “They’re making him comfortable. It’s all they can do. He’s unconscious. He won’t know you didn’t come.”

  “But I did come,” Tiberius said. “And I really do have to see him. What harm can I do? He’s dying, isn’t he?”

  “Well…” the guard looked as if he had never considered that possibility.

  “And I can promise you that he will be alive when I leave,” Tiberius said.

  “I can stand watch with you,” Rafe said. “I’ll help you pass the time.”

  “I guess you are his son,” the guard said, and Tiberius knew they had won him over.

  “Thank you,” Tiberius said.

  “Did you really cross the blighted lands?” the guard asked Rafe.

  “Yes, and there are things down there you wouldn’t believe,” Rafe began.

  Tiberius held back his laughter as he closed the door behind him. His father’s chamber was dark and smelled of sickness, sweat, and human waste.

  “Fulsi,” Tiberius said and felt felt the portal of magical light open above him.

  He let just enough light through so that he could see. He went past the large desk and around the sitting area. There were still coals in the fireplace, and the room was warm. Tiberius found a stool and moved it to his father’s bedside. Earl Aegus had been a big man, but now he was thin and frail. His hair was completely gray and thinning so that his scalp showed through. His hands looked like nothing more than skin and bones, but they clutched the covers tightly.

  Tiberius had no idea what ailment was killing his father or if he could do anything to help. But there was a chance, and if Earl Aegus were ever to accept that Tiberius was now a wizard, Ti knew that healing him would help. Still, as he sat looking at the man whom he had loved and feared his whole life, he began to doubt that healing his father was a good idea. The earl was not the kind of man to take lightly. He had ruled Avondale with an iron fist and rarely showed any concern for Tiberius. Earl Aegus didn’t love his son; in fact, Tiberius doubted that his father loved anyone. But then the first principle of magic, as listed in his book The Essence Of Magic, stated that magic was for the benefit of all mankind, and Tiberius couldn’t shake the feeling that he was ignoring the most basic tenet of his craft by not helping his father.

  Tiberius closed his eyes and began to connect with the magic around him. The more advanced healing spells in the First Order of magic required the wizard to focus his mind on the patient’s body. It was a way to understand the depth of the injury or illness, and it was what opened up the wizard to the Corporeus Adfectus, the magical empathy that, while causing Tiberius pain, also helped him know if his magic was healing the patient as it should.

  “Acies Penetralis Deprimo Sano Crudus Viscus,” Tiberius chanted softly.

  Instantly the magic around him began to move and flow, like water moving more swiftly through a narrow channel in the stream. Tiberius moved his mind down into his father’s body, and almost instantly he felt an excruciating ache in his lower back and stomach. His loins hurt terribly, and his thighs felt like logs in a roaring fire. He could sense the numerous growths that filled his father’s intestines and internal organs. It was almost as if a group of wild mushrooms had grown up inside his father’s body.

  The spell he was chanting was meant to heal cuts deep in the body and stop bleeding. Tiberius was soon shaking and sweating from the pain he felt. It was almost more than he could take, but he stayed focused. If he could somehow remove the growths, he might be able to heal his father, but none of the Sana Magus spells were meant to remove the unnatural growths. He needed something strong but controlled to consume the disease.

  He decided he could take a chance. His father was dying and in great pain, so Tiberius altered his spell. “Acies Penetralis Deprimo Sano Crudus Accendo,” he said. This time the portal of fire was tiny and located inside his father’s body. It was difficult to stay focused both on his father’s physical condition and on the portal of flame, especially while his body was aching from the magical empathy he felt. Still, he was determined to help, and so he moved a small but focused flame onto the nearest growth. The pain made him shudder, and it was as if he were holding his hand over a candle and letting the heat burn him. But the growth was recoiling from the heat and Tiberius pressed forward. He let the flame burn the growth until it was nothing but ash. The spell was working, but it was also burning his father’s healthy organs. It took an hour to burn away all the growths, and the entire time Tiberius chanted his new spell.

  Finally, with the growths gone, Tiberius felt an entirely different kind of pain. His father’s insides had been burned and blistered, and the ache Ti felt was sharp. Every breath and every movement sent waves of pain radiating through his abdomen. But there was a spell for healing burns, and Tiberius knew it well.

  “Acies Sano Cuticula, Acies Penetralis Resarcio Viscus,” he said, changing his spell once again.

  This time there was immediate relief. The magic flowed through his father’s body, healing the small burns in his intestines and organs. It reminded Tiberius of pouring water over freshly dug vegetables and watching the dirt swirl away. The pain eased until at last it was gone, and Tiberius opened his eyes. His father was staring at him, his breathing deep and regular. His mouth moved, but no sound came from the dry, cracked lips. Then one skeletal hand rose up and settled lightly on Tiberius’ head.

  Chapter 8

  Rafe

  As soon as the figure appeared at the end of the corridor, Rafe knew he was in trouble. All the feelings of childhood, every bad decision he’d made, every poor performance on the training grounds, were suddenly fresh in his psyche again. Rafe’s father was the commander of the earl’s war band, which was in many ways a misnomer. Avondale was a wealthy city, and as such, the earl kept nearly a thousand trained warriors. But of all those soldiers, none was as feared as Grentz, the sword master, champion of Avondale and Rafe’s father.

  Rafe watched his father approaching, waiting for the inevitable sign of recognition that he knew must come. Grentz suddenly stopped walking, his body stiff, his face completely unreadable.

  “Yesper,” Grentz said with quiet authority. “You are relieved.”

  “Yes sir!” the soldier said, snapping off a salute and then turning on his heel before hurrying away.

  “What are you doing here?” Grentz asked.

  “It’s a long story,” Rafe said.

  “Then get busy telling it.”

  “The short version is that we made it to Hamill Keep,” Rafe explained. “But the earl there was under some kind of enchantment. We stopped him, saved the earl’s family in their sky ship, and sailed back here.”

  “That doesn’t explain how you got into the city,” Grentz said. “And where is the Hamill Keep sky ship?”

  “It’s below the mists,” Rafe said, hoping that he wasn’t giving too much away.

  If his father remained loyal to Leonosis, he might turn them in, even if Rafe was his only son. Still, Rafe knew it was a chance he would have to take. His
father always knew when Rafe was lying.

  “We came up and entered the city through a secret entrance under cover of darkness,” Rafe continued.

  “A secret entrance?”

  “Used by thieves to hide their goods,” Rafe explained.

  Grentz nodded as if the explanation were ordinary, but Rafe knew his father was reeling at the thought that a person could get inside the city undetected. Grentz had given his entire life to securing the safety of the earl and guarding the city walls. Suddenly finding out that there were ways in that he hadn’t known about must have been distressing to say the least.

  “The earl’s son is here?” Grentz asked.

  Rafe nodded. “Tiberius is with his father now. Olyva’s family remained in their sky ship.”

  “Tell me why our new king is so intent on finding you?” Grentz asked. “Tell me why I have war ships from Sparlan Citadel circling over my city? Did you kill Earl Marcus?”

  “Earl Marcus was already dead,” Rafe said. “His body was being used by some foul magic.”

  “All magic is foul,” Grentz said.

  “No, Father, it isn’t. I’ve seen magic used for good.”

  Grentz’s eyes narrowed, but Rafe pushed on. He knew he needed to tell his father the truth about Tiberius. There was no other way to explain what was really happening.

  “Tiberius is a wizard. He saved my life the day we fought the graypees. I broke my back in that fall, but he healed me. He’s trying to heal his father right now.”

  Rafe could see the conflict in his father’s eyes. Grentz had spent his whole life serving Earl Aegus. They were close—not quite like Rafe and Tiberius, but Grentz had stood beside the earl and hated to see him struck down by illness. If there was a chance that Tiberius could save his father, Rafe knew that Grentz would support him, even if that meant accepting magic.

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” Grentz said. “Go find a quiet place with Lady Olyva and live in peace.”

  “You know I can’t do that,” Rafe said. “We didn’t set out to oppose Leonosis. He promised that Olyva and I could be together, then he double-crossed us.”