by Tia Reed
Tokver stepped out of the tunnel and went to stand beside Fenz. “Minekeeper Fenz, I make a request,” he said, with no trace of the arrogance he dumped on Vinsant. Levi’s training must have worked wonders with this one.
Fenz held up a hand as he watched two mahktashaan engage in an impressive sequence of strikes. When one was disarmed, Fenz issued some advice. His priority settled, he gave Tokver his attention. “Speak, mahktashaan.”
“In Mahktos’s name, I beg admittance to the secret tomes.”
For a tense moment, Fenz looked into Tokver’s hood. “In Mahktos’s name?”
“Yes, mahktashaan.”
“Remove your hood.”
Tokver did so. Fenz placed his violet crystal upon Tokver’s forehead. Its soft glow drove Vinsant deeper into the cover of the tunnel. “It is so.” Placing his crystal at his chest, Fenz retrieved a metal plaque on a chain from inside his robe. As he touched it to his crystal, violet light swarmed over the whole room and spilled into the corridor. Fenz turned his head and Vinsant, despite scuttling into shadow, was sure the minekeeper had marked him.
“This key will work but the once, mahktashaan. I expect it returned before dawn.”
“All praise to Mahktos,” Tokver said with a bow. He entered the tunnel and approached Vinsant with another scowl.
“Why did you ask?” Vinsant said as he trotted in front of Tokver.
“You think I’m going to risk sneaking behind the minekeeper’s back if I can get his permission? Why do you think he’s minekeeper, anyway? He has the magic of locks and seals.”
“What magic do you have?”
“A way to send pests mute. Care for a demonstration?”
“Just get me inside.”
Vinsant hid behind the pedestal while Tokver rolled up the rug and placed the metal plaque on the lock. It clicked open.
“Can you risk coming out?” Tokver said.
Vinsant poked his nose above the pedestal. “Can’t be too careful.” Besides, half the fun was in sneaking around. He hopped inside the stairwell after Tokver, pulled the trapdoor closed, and conjured a light in time to see Tokver wave his hand. He pushed on the door. It was locked.
“What did you do that for?”
“It is required. Do you assume all mahktashaan can be privy to the secrets?”
Vinsant frowned. He had, in fact, thought just that. Well that was just one more reason he would have to make majoria.
The click of their boots echoed as they descended. On the last step, Vinsant paused. The vaulted alcoves were neat. No rotten teeth, slimy serpents or crushed bugs in sight. With a sigh of relief, he crossed the crimson-floored chamber. Tokver paused to gaze at the crimson Eye with its diamond pupil in the left alcove. When he tore himself away, he bowed to the statue of Mahktos in the centre of the chamber. Movement in the right alcove caught his eye.
“Is that. . ?”
“Kaidon, yes.”
Tokver crept closer, thought better of getting too close to the forked tail and snapping pincers even if they were behind a shield, and returned to the other side of the statue.
“Do you know why the statues in the mines are grouped in three?” Vinsant asked.
“Do you ever stop asking questions?”
“Only if I get the right answers. What if I tell you to tell me?”
Tokver rolled his eyes. “Each face of Mahktos represents one of the Vae. It is said that before the dawn of time, only Mahktos existed. In His hunger for love, His bowels revolted and His excrement became our world. In His loneliness, Mahktos cried, and His tears became the oceans, rivers and lakes of our world. In His hurt, He sighed, and His breath became the sky. Seeing the beauty in His new world, He set mortal and beast upon His blessings. But so beneath Him were they that they filled neither His hunger, nor His loneliness, nor His hurt. Withering in His suffering, He reshaped portions of earth and water and sky until the Vae were born, creatures so much of Himself they too were gods, creatures so like Him they need not adore Him, creatures so divine they deserved the worship of the mortals He had created to fill the world.”
Tokver was turning out to be alright. “So why are the statues single everywhere else?”
“These mines are ancient. Nobody knows who built this settlement but the mahktashaan remember this mystery. They’ll not risk upsetting the populace by suggesting Mahktos created the Vae, and you’ll not risk upsetting the majoria by saying I told you.”
“Never,” Vinsant said, shaking his head. “What do you know about our power being sourced in the djinn?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“You don’t know, do you?”
“Where’s this secret?”
Vinsant walked through the arch which held the books. Floor to ceiling shelves recessed into the stone held a great many more than he had anticipated. “They read something in here.”
“Who?” The lectern didn’t leave much room for the two of them.
“Levi and Fenz.”
“Wouldn’t they love to know you’re spying on them?”
“Just following their lead.”
Tokver leaned against a stone shelf, crossed one foot over his other ankle, and scanned the shelves. “Are you going to camp here for a year?”
“I only want to read one.” The question was which one. As it was, Fenz’s punishment turned out to be useful. He scanned the shelves, found a dustless streak and pulled out the book it marked. Almost a quarter his size, it toppled from his grasp. He heaved it onto the lectern. Bound in black leather, it had a crimson eye with a white pupil on its cover. It had to be the right one. He turned to the first page. It contained a verse below which Mahktashaan Guntek had printed his name.
This shameful secret sequestered in triune skies
Its truth apparent under broke seal and eye wise
The honour is no longer mine.
Vinsant flipped the pages, thankful for the crude but abundant illustrations. The Eye of Mahktos was not hard to recognise. Something was amiss, though. He stared at a sketch, flipped the cover closed, and compared the drawing. Curious, how the centre of the eye depicted on the page appeared to be missing. A mystery within a mystery. He began to read the adjacent text. Tokver just had to bug him by looking over his shoulder.
The faithless fight us for crystals and quartz but we resist in the name of our god, Mahktos the Creator, all praise to Mahktos, who gifted us the divine mystery of magic. Infidels, they fight us in the vain hope of stealing His power. Their swords cannot hope to prevail over the power we wield through the stones. Their devotion to the Vae, whom we acknowledge, cannot match our adoration of Mahktos, all praise to Him whom we both worship and serve. . .
Guntek sounded as pious as Levi. There was no end to his droning about Mahktos and the Infidels, and it was downright boring. From the date inscribed at the top of the page, he had to be alluding to the Crystal War. That made the Myklaani the infidels. Vinsant skimmed over the next two pages. Halfway down the third, he came across another useful snippet.
Unable to overcome us, their dwindling numbers seek a last stand. They aim to demoralise and have all but succeeded, for the Vae permitted them to scale the great triple statue of Mahktos and there they delighted in defacing the divine features of our god. As His eye crashed to the ground, a fury unlike any I have experienced took me and I found within my crystal a terrible power that smote them to cinders, all mercy driven from my mind. I beg forgiveness minute after minute and hour after hour. The mahktashaan failed in our duty. All praise to Mahktos, the honour is no longer mine.
“This is nothing new,” Tokver said.
“Feel free to leave. I don’t need you to babysit.”
“You do, unless you’d care to explain your presence to the minekeeper.”
After another hour of reading Vinsant was nearly going cross-eyed from the scratchy old-fashioned prose. He had learned nothing useful. Flicking through the pages revealed no other illustrations of the Eye. About to close the book, he felt a
weight at his chest. His quartz pulled forward, dragging his chin onto the lectern.
“If you’re done playing, I’ve duties to attend,” Tokver said. He had long ago picked up another book.
“Not quite.” Another paragraph had caught his eye. His quiet assurance brought Tokver to his shoulder.
Mahktos reminds us of our dereliction, for the eye will not hold in the socket. In my office of majoria, I sequester it, never to be released except by direst need and in that case by consent of two of the officed three, for Mahktos has spoken to me. Within His Eye is His divine power in this world and, but for greatest peril, it must not be unleashed.
“The officed three,” Vinsant mused.
“Majoria, minoria and minekeeper. Fenz’s counterparts had a great deal more sway in ancient times.”
“I figured.”
“Since you know it all, why bother?”
“I suppose you did know it all.”
“Actually, yes. The history of the Crystal War is mandatory reading for every senior apprentice.”
The smug, scum-sucking excuse for a mahktashaan was asking for a socking. “This isn’t a secret. There’s nothing here Gram or Naikil couldn’t know. There’s nothing here my sister couldn’t know.”
“And have you sorry excuses for apprentices disrespect Guntek’s name, by sniggering at the memory of the greatest of us.”
“What’s the real reason?” Vinsant hunched into his shoulders. It was cold down here.
Tokver shrugged and rubbed the goosebumps lining up along one arm. “The stages of knowledge are laid out in Guntek’s missive. The mahktashaan have followed the protocol for hundreds, maybe thousands of years.”
Vinsant nudged Tokver into the chamber and stared at the left alcove. The Eye of Mahktos rested on its gold pedestal.
“Time to get a closer look,” Vinsant said.
“Just how do you intend to do that?”
“Mahktashaan Fenz gave you the key.”
“Are you witless or just deaf? You need two of the officed three to break the seal.”
“Fenz’s key makes one and. . .and. . .just try it.”
Rolling his eyes, Tokver inserted the key into a slot on the left of the shield. As he turned to deliver a withering I told you so, Vinsant removed his quartz and slid it into the slot above. Of their own accord, both keys ground deeper into their slots. The shield shimmered and dissolved. They stared into an empty alcove.
“What?” said Vinsant, entering and turning around. His breath had formed a little puff that was drifting up.
Tokver looked just as disappointed. “Perhaps the majoria was onto your scheme.”
The majoria could not have taken it. In fact, the frustrated majoria had almost had a fit when he entered this alcove, and now Vinsant knew why. He replaced his quartz around his neck, and skidded to the book alcove. Turning page after page of Guntek’s tome brought no answer.
With a defeated groan, he snapped the book shut. The cover sprung open. Quite by itself, his quartz lifted and plonked onto the first-page verse.
“Going to start from the beginning?” Tokver said in clear disdain.
“If Mahktos wants me to.” He sure hadn’t reopened the book. He squinted at the verse. “I think it’s a clue.”
“What is this, a treasure hunt?”
Vinsant blinked. “Right on! A treasure hunt for the Eye of Mahktos. ‘This shameful secret’ could be the fact the Eye is missing rather than that the mahktashaan failed to protect the statue. That’s not exactly a secret, is it? And ‘It’s truth apparent under broke seal’, well, when the seal is broken, that’s when we learn the Eye isn’t really here.”
The book could have been the majoria the way Tokver was standing to attention. “What’s the next part?”
“‘Under broke seal and eye wise.’ Hmm.”
“Doesn’t fit. You would need the Eye to reveal to secret.
“I don’t think so. This eye isn’t written with a capital E. I think Guntek is referring to the person who can solve the mystery.
“That’s Majoria Guntek to you.”
Vinsant glanced over his shoulder. Tokver was not kidding. “Okay, so I’ve got a wise eye because I’m deciphering these clues.”
“Oh, please. What you’ve got is an overactive imagination.”
“Fine. I’ll just work on the rest myself.” The last part, The honour is no longer mine, that was clear enough. Guntek felt he had failed Mahktos. But sequestered in triune skies. The key to this secret had to be in that line, but what did it mean?
Tokver jostled him. “Move over, apprentice.”
Vinsant elbowed him to no effect. “Thought you didn’t care.”
“Sequestered in triune skies.”
Squashed against the lectern, Vinsant glared up. “The Triune. That could be the Vae.” The hint of smugness in Tokver’s eyes alerted him. “What do the Mahktashaan believe it stands for?” He closed one eye and thought. It didn’t take him long to get it. “Mahktos. The triple statues.” He deflated. “But which one?”
“It would make sense it’s here, where Guntek hid all his secrets.”
Vinsant shoved past Tokver and stared at the stone statue on the pedestal. He looked up. The roof was too high to notice any irregularity.
“Levitos.” He floated up and searched for a hidey hole. Nothing gave. He scratched at the mortar. Not even a trickle of dust dislodged. “I don’t think it’s here.”
“What now, wise eye? We go and climb the statue in the temple?”
Hands on his hips, Vinsant surveyed the chamber from on high. “Sequestered in triune skies. Hmm.” He shivered. The temperature was dropping so fast night had to have descended. “Triune. Three. Three statues. Three Vae. Three officed mahktashaan. . .”
“Yeah, yeah. Three lines to the verse, three alcoves, three to the third power steps, or is that the number of times you’ve been reprimanded?”
Vinsant’s jaw dropped. “You’ve solved it.”
Tokver shook his head as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Oh for Mahktos’s sake!”
“No, really. Three alcoves.” Vinsant floated into the book alcove. A small star was carved into one of the ceiling stones.
He pushed.
He fell. He landed on top of Tokver who toppled against the lectern.
“Useless apprentice,” Tokver snapped, pushing him off and clutching his back. Glaring, Tokver levitated up. No sooner had his fingers pressed the star than he was falling. Vinsant jumped out of the way. On a quick thought, he summoned his mattress. It appeared half squashed up over the lectern but broke Tokver’s fall.
“Useless, huh?” he said, folding his arms.
“There’s a magic taboo,” Tokver said, getting up.
“A what?”
“Guntek infused the symbol with a spell to dispel magic.”
“What’s the point of that?
“Guess it keeps unworthy apprentices from accessing his secret.”
“Maybe not.” Vinsant returned the mattress to his room, looked up, looked at the lectern and looked at Tokver. Then he dumped a heap of books on the floor to act as a stool.
“Oh no.”
Vinsant put his hands on his hips. “I hope you’re not going to suggest you stand on my shoulders.”
Pulling a sour expression, Tokver climbed up. Vinsant clambered onto the lectern after him. Using Tokver’s bent knee as a step, he scrambled onto his assistant’s shoulders. The lectern wobbled. One edge lifted off the floor. Arms swinging for balance, Vinsant swayed as Tokver adjusted his weight. He let out a sigh of relief as both it and Tokver settled. When he raised his arms, he could just place his palms flat against the arched roof.
Bracing against a magical ward, Vinsant pushed at the star. He expected it to move but as his hand followed the lifting mechanism forward, he almost toppled off.
“Watch it!” Tokver said, hands springing onto the bookshelves to steady himself.
“Sorry.” He had no idea why his quartz h
ad glowed. He hadn’t used magic. Reaching into the depression, Vinsant found a small slit in one side of the adjacent stone. Squeezing his fingers in, he was just able to work out a parchment.
“Got it!” He scrambled down, figuring too late he had butted Tokver a bit too hard in the chest. He was too eager to care.
“Hand it over.”
“Scumdipper’s chance.” The parchment felt brittle. One corner at a time, he unfolded it to reveal scraps of smudged writing that didn’t make a scrap of sense. “It might be part of a map. We need the parts in the other alcoves. Vinsant shoved past Tokver and stared at the illusion of the Eye. “Bring that lectern. We’ve got to get up to the roof.”
Tokver folded his arms. “I am not your lackey.”
Vinsant wriggled the lectern back and forth. At long last, Mister High and Mighty realised it was too heavy for him and came over.
“Levitos.” Tokver levitated the lectern to the left alcove. Vinsant released the seal so he could float it inside.
“You owe me, apprentice.”
Like scum he did, even if he was a right fool for not thinking of magic. Tokver wanted this as much as he did. He summoned the books and set them next to the lectern.
“I’ll get this one,” Tokver said, summoning a chair and heaping a stack of books on it. He levitated himself onto the top of the stack and felt around the ceiling. Nothing: no click of a latch or flash of lime.
“My turn,” Vinsant said what had to have been a whole fifteen minutes later.
It was something of a miracle Tokver relented. “Don’t expect me to forget this,” he said, allowing Vinsant to climb on his shoulders.
The parchment was hidden beneath two moons.
“Got it,” Vinsant said into the flash of his quartz.
“Then get off me before I drop you.”
The fuss Tokver made as Vinsant grabbed at him to climb down! Anyone would think he was under attack. He collected his crystal, and unfolded the parchment with care. It too contained a blur of ink. Impatient, they moved lectern and books towards the final niche.