Beast of Zarall

by E B Rose

  A servant filled Tesla’s glass with wine. Tesla noticed he hadn’t seen many slaves in the castle, only servants. He wasn’t sure what to make out of this. He raised his glass to the king, and took a small sip. The wine was just the right amount of sweet and sour, it was delicious.

  “I believe this is about Belandir Kalderan,” Kastian went straight to the topic.

  “Yes, Your Majesty. I’m here as a senior member of Eternal Pillar to investigate Adept Belandir’s past activities and seek evidence of any use of Darkhome Magic.”

  “Fair enough.” Kastian put his glass down. He gazed at the garden for several minutes. Tesla noticed the King’s ears were maybe slightly bigger than ideal. It started bugging him. He found himself staring at the King’s ears, and he almost startled when Kastian spoke again.

  “I don’t mind you doing your investigation,” Kastian said. “But I will ask you to be quiet and keep your findings to yourself.”

  “I understand.”

  Adept Kato was right then. The King had made the accusation for political reasons and he didn’t want anyone to prove otherwise.

  “I will accommodate your investigation however I can,” Kastian continued. “Give you access to the mage’s quarters and his belongings. How long do you need to investigate for?”

  “It depends on what I will find, Your Majesty, but my intention is to complete my report as quickly as possible and be on my way back to Eternal Pillar.”

  Kastian scratched his ear, hence drawing Tesla’s attention back to those disproportionate dried plums. When Kastian turned his head the other way, Tesla noticed the two ears weren’t the same size. He fidgeted on his chair, suddenly feeling too warm. Why weren’t they the same size? Why would gods create a pair of body parts, and not make them identical?

  He focused his attention on the slice of yellow cheese and the porcelain plate with flower patterns painted around the edges. Whoever had drawn those, must have had a very stable hand and a good sense of symmetry.

  “Are you okay, Adept Teslaturahel?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Tesla tried not to look at the King’s face and his non-identical ears.

  “You are sweating.”

  “It’s the wine, Your Majesty. I’m not great with alcohol.”

  “Huh.”

  Kastian gestured one of his servants and mumbled something in the man’s ear. The servant bowed and walked away.

  Tesla cursed at himself. He knew he wasn’t the best for missions like this. He appeared suspicious for the wrong reasons, and now the King was going to kick him out of his castle, or interrogate him.

  Tesla straightened up. “When can I start my investigation, Your Majesty?” He plastered a confident smile on his face, and maintained eye contact with the King, though those ears still bugged him. He wished there was a way to fix them.

  “Soon.”

  Kastian continued to scrutinize him harshly. Tesla gulped his wine and studied the garden, searching for a distraction. He found a good one almost immediately.

  “My daughter,” Kastian said, following Tesla’s gaze. “I want her to get some fresh air every day.”

  Princess Lareani, a young woman past her marriage age, didn’t seem to enjoy the King’s idea. She stood ten feet from the bridge, covering her ears, and singing loudly. Her maids hooked their arms through her elbows, urging her to continue walking. Lareani dug her heels in the ground, and when the maids continued pushing her, she flopped on the floor. The maids tried to lift her up on her feet, but Lareani made herself a deadweight, refusing to move a muscle.

  “She looks uncomfortable,” Tesla commented, noting how loud the pond must be, and the bird feeder just near the bridge.

  Kastian scowled. “The fresh air will help her get better,” he said with confidence.

  Tesla’s heart pounded. He understood how the girl felt being outside and suspected she might have the same curse Tesla had, and maybe something more. He was certain if he could take the girl to Eternal Pillar, the mages could find a spell to help her get better. He bit his tongue before he could say anything to the King. He didn’t know enough about Kastian Vogros, or about his daughter’s condition, to make any assumptions that might have been heard as promises.

  When the maids couldn’t budge her, a male servant approached to lift her up in his arms. Lareani bit the man’s upper arm, almost causing him to drop her. The man put her down carefully, and rubbed the bruise on his arm. Kastian’s cheeks flushed, and he averted his eyes from Tesla, as if embarrassed.

  “Who’s that?” Tesla asked, nodding towards the young maiden who just came out from the building. She rushed to Lareani’s side. Her honey-coloured hair fell down her slender shoulders in waves. She raised the skirt of her emerald dress as he kneeled beside the princess. She started singing and doing song actions with her hands, like children do. Lareani’s protests dimmed and when the maiden prompted her hands to join, she did.

  “That’s Lady Lona, from Kilrer,” Kastian said.

  Soon, Princess Lareani calmed down and Lady Lona convinced her to stand up. Still singing and holding hands like two little children, they walked through the garden, trotted over the bridge as quickly as possible, and sat on a bench at the opposite side.

  “Father?”

  Tesla flinched. He was so enthralled at watching Lady Lona calm the princess down, he hadn’t heard the young man approaching their table. The man had chestnut hair and dark eyes. He was dressed in an expensive but modest outfit, and he had a vague resemblance to the King.

  Most importantly, his ears were perfectly proportionate and symmetrical. Tesla almost sighed in relief.

  “Prince Lotheris,” Kastian said. “Meet Adept Teslaturahel. Please escort him to the mage’s quarters and assist him in his investigation.”

  “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  “Thank you for your assistance to the Eternal Pillar, Your Majesty,” Tesla said, standing up with another deep bow.

  Kastian had already returned to watching his daughter. Lines of concern etched his face. When Prince Lotheris started walking to the building and Tesla followed him in a hurry.

  *

  Adept Belandir’s room was neat and tidy to the extent that Tesla was certain every item in the room had been cleaned. Contaminated with other people’s traces. Nevertheless, this was a problem he’d been prepared for.

  “How many days has it been since the coup, Your Highness?”

  “You mean since the liberation?” Prince Lotheris corrected him coolly.

  Tesla bit his tongue. “That’s right, Your Highness. How many days?”

  Prince Lotheris leaned against the wall near the door. He shrugged. “Just over four months.”

  Tesla put his bag down and started taking his tools out as he calculated the number in his mind. He added another ten days just to be sure. He took out a dozen of wooden disks with symbols on them and put one on each corner, then one along each wall.

  “This is going to take a while, Your Highness,” he said apologetically. “And I will have to ask you to stand outside the threshold. The spell I’m about to cast might have undesired effects on anyone in the spell area.”

  Lotheris blinked lazily. “Sure,” he sighed and stepped outside the room.

  The prince hadn’t spoken to Tesla since he escorted him from the garden. He hardly even looked at him. If Tesla was any better at understanding nonverbal cues, he would have said Prince Lotheris didn’t like him, though he had no clue why. The prince scratched between his eyebrows, crossed his arms on his chest, and leaned against the door frame.

  Tesla sat on the floor in the centre of the room, with his back to the door. He took a deep breath and shut all his irrelevant thoughts out. He started muttering the twelve-page long spell, word by word, from memory.

  This was an advanced Farhome spell, which Tesla had received the Eternal Pillar’s approval to use in this investigation. It required no ingredients; just the runes, articulation, and a concentrated mind. And the caster to
be at least class four.

  The wooden disks he placed around the room lit up one by one. When he finished reciting the passage, he sat still without opening his eyes. For every minute that passed outside the room, time flowed in the opposite direction inside, ten times faster.

  Tesla waited. When he opened his eyes again, hours had passed outside the room. Adept Belandir’s room didn’t change physically, but the traces did.

  Tesla stood up on numb legs. He supported himself with his hands on his knees. The spell had drained him; he was starving and black spots flew in front of his eyes. His muscles were heavy and stiff. He worked the kinks out of his spine and stretched his arms.

  When he turned around, he saw Prince Lotheris pacing back and forth outside the door.

  “I thought you fell asleep,” Lotheris snorted. “Are you done?”

  “I’m just starting, Your Highness.”

  Lotheris flinched as if Tesla had slapped him. He rolled his eyes. “Just hurry up.”

  Tesla rubbed his hands together as he scanned the room. The traces of everyone who had entered the room since the night of the coup - the so-called liberation - were erased. Only Belandir’s were left.

  Tesla started with the bed. He put his hands on the mattress and found the traces left by Adept Belandir’s rhoa. He followed them to the desk in the corner. From the way Belandir’s rhoa was concentrated on the cushioned chair, Tesla could tell the mage had spent considerable time at his desk. He didn’t bother opening up the drawers; no mage could be careless enough to leave any evidence of Darkhome magic laying in their drawers. He moved on to the cupboard in the corner instead.

  It was a man-size cupboard, made of white oak, and firmly attached to the wall. Tesla opened it and inspected the familiar spell ingredients, placed in clear bottles or heavily tinted jars. Labelled and organized neatly. He splayed his hands on the sides of the cupboard and searched for where Adept Belandir’s trace was concentrated the most.

  The second shelf from the top had been touched almost every day. He read the labels of several bottles from that shelf. Those ingredients were rare and expensive. Common spells required more common ingredients. Adept Belandir either cast rare spells every day, without any care for his supplies.

  Or, the bottles have been misplaced...

  No, that didn’t make any sense either. All ingredients were perfectly organized by spell category. He doubted anyone who wasn’t a mage would have arranged them this way.

  Just when he was about to close the cupboard and look somewhere else, Tesla paused. He pushed the bottles aside and splayed his fingers on the back wall. Adept Belandir’s leftover rhoa was strongest here. When Tesla knocked lightly, the sound echoed as if there was a gap behind. He pushed until a small section of the back wall gaped and slid to the side.

  Tesla glanced at Prince Lotheris, who had extended his neck, trying to see inside the cupboard. “What did you find?” He asked, trying to appear uninterested.

  “Please remain outside the door, Your Highness. For your own safety.”

  Lotheris gritted his teeth, but pulled back.

  Tesla returned to examine the hidden section of the cupboard. He cast two spells to check if there were any traps set inside, but it looked clear. In fact, the whole secret compartment looked clear. It was empty.

  Tesla fumbled inside with his hands. He even muttered a spell to dissolve illusions, but there was none. Everything about this secret compartment bugged him. There were spells to hide objects in plain sight, or protect them with magical traps. Every mage knew these spells existed, and they knew how to cancel them like the back of their hands. However, these spells were still effective against any snooping civilians. The fact that Adept Belandir used a non-magical secret compartment implied that he wasn’t trying to hide things from ordinary people, he was trying to hide them from other mages.

  Tesla snuck his head inside the compartment and sniffed. His sensory integration spell allowed him to focus on one sense at a time and enhance it while dimming the others. He felt like a dumb bloodhound, but he got what he needed. A whiff of leather and old parchment; a book!

  Adept Belandir had used the secret compartment to hide a book.

  Tesla moved to the desk and sat on Belandir’s chair. He placed his palms on the varnished surface of the desk and closed his eyes. He focused on the traces Belandir’s rhoa left; he listened to the faint vibrations in the air. Soon, he started to hear Belandir’s voice.

  The mage had cast spells in this room. Echoes of his voice was weak, barely audible, but Tesla listened carefully. He heard familiar spell words, and unfamiliar ones.

  Then, he heard a phrase that he wished he’d never heard.

  “Is this going to take much longer?” Lotheris snapped.

  Tesla opened his eyes and shuddered. “I will need to inspect where Adept Belandir was killed.”

  “You can’t,” Lotheris said curtly. “He wasn’t killed, he committed suicide and destroyed the whole tower, along with himself and fifty good Vogros men. The tower is still being repaired and it’s off limits.”

  “May I speak to the King about this?”

  “You may, but His Majesty won’t change his orders. The north tower is off limits.”

  North tower. Tesla would have to remember this, because Eternal Pillar gave him a second mission that he didn’t reveal to the King; His first goal was to find out if Adept Belandir was using Darkhome magic. The phrase he just heard was used in Darkhome spells, so Tesla had concluded the first part of his investigation.

  The second part was to find out exactly what Adept Belandir was working on. Tesla couldn’t leave the castle until he found an answer to that.

  *

  “No,” Kastian said. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

  The King was alone in his study. He was sitting at a wide, cherry wood desk, reading a heavy book with dark leather cover. Evening was nearing and Kastian’s eyes were tired and red from the strain of reading. He closed the book with a dull snap and pushed it aside. Tesla couldn’t read the title, but recognized the name of the author as a scholar who wrote about economics.

  Prince Lotheris stood behind his father. A subtle smirk curved his lips. Lotheris had brought Tesla to King’s presence after Tesla had finally declared he was finished in Belandir’s room. At least half a day had passed while Tesla was there and Lotheris wasn’t quite happy for being stuck with him.

  “Seeing the place of Adept Belandir’s demise is imperative for my investigation, Your Majesty.”

  “No,” Kastian refused again. He squeezed the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. “The northern tower is off limits. You’ll have to conclude your investigation with whatever you’ve found in his quarters.”

  “Nothing I’ve seen in Adept Belandir’s quarters can serve as evidence in one direction or the other. I will need more information.”

  Kastian sighed. “What do you want?”

  Tesla glanced at the King and was almost distracted by those uneven ears again. He fixed his gaze at the table. “If I’m not allowed to see the north tower, then I’d like to interview any witnesses who’d seen that night’s events.”

  “The mage didn’t leave any witnesses...” Lotheris started, but Kastian silenced him with a gesture.

  “Prince Lotheris will ask around, see who was in the northern wing that night.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  When Tesla didn’t make a move to withdraw from Kastian’s presence, the King stared at him under heavy eyelids. “Anything else?” he asked through his teeth.

  “May I stay at the castle throughout my investigation?”

  Lotheris made an annoyed noise from the back of his throat while Kastian raised his eyebrows. Tesla debated whether he was pushing too far or not, but continued nevertheless; “My comings and goings to the castle might attract more attention to this investigation than you’d prefer, Your Majesty. If I can stay here, I should make progress a lot faster, not to mention more disc
retely.”

  Kastian sighed. “I would have to ask you to keep a low profile. Do not speak to anyone without my permission and ensure none of my guests find out your purpose here.”

  “Maybe get rid of the robe as well,” Lotheris added. “Anyone with half a mind could figure out who you are and why you’re here from one look at your figure.”

  Tesla scratched his chin. He was reluctant to take his robe off. He was here as an official representative of Eternal Pillar and it required him to wear a robe.

  The king stared at him, expecting an answer. Tesla sighed. “As you wish, Your Majesty. But, one more thing.”

  Impatience flashed at Kastian’s green eyes. He ran his hand over his face, pulling his mouth down. Lotheris’s smirk spread. “What else can I do for you, Adept Teslaturahel?” Kastian asked, drawing each word out with emphasis.

  “May I sleep in Adept Belandir’s quarters? It would speed my...”

  “Very well, Adept Teslaturahel,” Kastian interrupted him. “You are excused.”

  19

  OLIRA

  Olira’s eyes were puffy from crying. They stung when she blinked, as if a handful of sand was thrown in them. Every time she thought she had tears left, she would remember that last look the slave gave her and start sobbing again.

  How could she have done this? The man - the man, because he didn’t even have a name - wanted to be free. He didn’t want to die for people’s entertainment in an arena. Olira promised to help him. Then, she’d sold him. Like an object.

  Like a slave.

  The look of shock, hurt, and betrayal on his face... The little choking sound he made when Olira said yes... How he stumbled when that man dragged him behind his horse…

  Olira slumped on the dirt road, covered her face, and sobbed in her hands. She didn’t even have the face to ask for Alunwea’s forgiveness. She was a horrible person.

  “I didn’t have any choice,” she defended herself.

  She wanted to help him, but realistically, she didn’t have the means. She couldn’t leave the farm and her brothers and go on an adventure that would take months. She didn’t have the money to cover their travel costs. What he asked from her was impossible. She wiped her face. She couldn’t have helped him.