“Leave them for the scavengers. They are but empty husks now,” he said.
I could not understand how they could be so emotionless about the bodies of the fallen. Even slaves did what they could to respect the bodies of the dead. I supposed that, on a purely practical level, they were right; the bodies were just so much organic waste now, but still they used to be friends and allies.
Fiercewind was among the wounded unable to walk. They were forming makeshift stretchers, but even as they worked the sky was starting to darken. I offered to carry him to save time and he protested about me having to carry his weight, to which I responded by sweeping him up with one arm and tossing him over my shoulder. “You’re even lighter than you look,” I said, to which he merely grunted.
We traveled for a couple of hours through the forest, and it was nearly full dark by the time we reached the outpost. This was a large, stone structure, lit with the same kind of lamps as I’d seen in Narcion’s home. There was no sign of computers, or power of any kind, anywhere. I was beginning to suspect they did not have anything like that here.
Once all the wounded had been placed in a building to recover, we gathered in a common area for dinner. This was a stew of some kind made in a large pot over an open fire. There was much chatter around me, but none of it in a language I understood. Only Stormblade, Ragnar, and Fiercewind could speak my language, so that made it awkward at times. I heard my name mentioned a few times so I assumed they were recounting the battle, but that was just a guess.
That night I had the dubious pleasure of sleeping on the ground again, as their beds were no better than those Narcion had. I was not asked to stand watch this time, as there were plenty of men to keep a round-the-clock guard. I lay there staring up at the stars, wondering if I would ever find any answers.
Chapter Thirty
The next morning I was surprised to find Fiercewind walking around, talking with people. Many of the others that were wounded were also up and eating breakfast as if they had never been injured. I joined them at breakfast, and Fiercewind said, “Thank you for the lift last night, Zah’rak.”
“It was nothing. You don’t even weigh as much as some armor I have had to deal with,” I said. I decided I would not ask about his recovery, as it was a distraction from my main purpose. I was hoping to head home today and come up with a new plan to find Narcion.
“Zah’rak, I’m sorry you had to sleep on the ground again last night. I promise, if you give us more warning before you visit next time, I will ask someone to make you a proper bed,” said Stormblade.
“It’s fine, but I am eager to get going,” I said.
“All right. Give me a few minutes to find Ragnar and we can be on our way,” he said.
We left as soon as they were ready. As we left he argued with one of the guards for a time, but I could not understand what he was saying. We walked through the forest in silence for a while. I drew on the energy of the forest to help compensate for the lack of rest and the aches and pains of fighting hard and sleeping on the ground. Eventually it occurred to me to ask Stormblade, “If you have to fall back, what will happen to Narcion’s home?”
“We will have to destroy it,” he said with great sadness.
“Maybe I should bring some of his personal belongs back with me, then,” I said.
“That might be wise,” he replied.
We stopped about midday at a stream to replenish the canteens we had brought with us from the outpost, and to cool off a bit. The water was not as clean as I was used to drinking, and my stomach did not seem very happy with it, but it was cool and wet after a long morning of walking. The others did not seem bothered by the water, so I said nothing about it.
I was not carrying much, nor were Fiercewind or Stormblade. Ragnar had a large pack, but I did not know why. If we needed to lug gear out here for some reason, it would have made more sense to share the load, but I said nothing; I just wanted to get home. This planet was merely a distraction now that I knew Narcion was not here.
“We should reach Narcion’s house by the middle of the afternoon,” said Ragnar.
“I suppose that means you will stay there again tonight?” I asked.
“More than likely,” he said.
Once we were back underway again I asked, “Narcion spoke a lot about a group called the Sac’a’rith. Do you know anything about them?”
“Not much. He claimed he was the last of them, and that his mission in life was to restart the order when the time was right,” said Stormblade.
“So it does not refer to your family, or local tribal group, then?” I asked.
“No, we had never heard the term before he mentioned it. Let me guess: he told you that you were the first of the new generation of Sac’a’rith?”
“Yes, but he never got a chance to tell me what that meant,” I said.
“You are a magus, or you could not have operated that gate. You’re at home in the forest, and fight like one of the forest people. You can commune with the trees and the forest trusts you. What else can you do?” he asked.
“I do not know. Where I come from, magi are a new discovery and people are still guessing what to do and how to do it,” I said.
“You fought that sorcerer with your eyes closed. Why was that?” he asked.
“Narcion calls it ‘Sight.’ I can see things with my eyes closed that I cannot see when they are open. It comes in handy when fighting creatures that can hide,” I said.
“I have heard of some great warriors that can do that, but never a magus,” said Ragnar. “Though, in general, great magi do not fight often with physical weapons.”
That started a conversation about various famous magi whom they knew but I had never heard of. They talked about places and times that I knew nothing about. I wondered where I might be that was so different from home. The known and settled section of the galaxy was large, but there seemed to be nothing to connect their history with the little history I knew.
“Have you ever seen anyone like me?” I asked.
“What? Oh, you mean others of your species?” asked Stormblade.
“Yes, other Zalionians,” I said.
“I know of a race that looks a lot like you, but is much shorter; closer in size to a human. That is the only race that I know of which resembles you,” said Stormblade.
“In truth, if you had not put down your weapons when we first met you, we might have jumped to the wrong conclusion and attacked you,” said Fiercewind.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because lately, anything in our forest that is not one of the forest people or a known friend is trying to push us out,” said Stormblade.
“The humans are pushing them in, and they push you?” I asked.
“Those and others. Our borders get more crowded every season,” said Stormblade.
I was going to comment that it might be best if they spread out to neighboring planets, but just then we arrived at Narcion’s house. We searched inside until we found a large box, and then they helped me decide what kind of thing he might want to save if they were finally forced to destroy the house. After we’d filled the chest, we moved into the gate room.
As I stood before the gate, I noticed the pattern around the ring was slightly different to the one back on Narcion’s cruiser. I traced my finger through some of the carvings and wondered exactly what they meant. Slowly I started to feel the room slip away and only the ring was present in my mind.
Ragnar’s voice came from somewhere beside me and said, “We are ready when you are.”
“Yeah, just a moment,” I said. I kept working my way around the ring, trying to discern a pattern, until my finger touched on one specific engraving. “There, this one is right,” I mumbled to myself. Memories came flooding into my mind from it and with them came a single word. I called that word out loud, and as before color started to fill the gate.
“So the runes are the key,” said Stormblade.
; “What?” I asked as I came out of the trace-like state I had slipped into unawares.
“The gate is locked, and only certain people can open it. We have suspected that the runes were more than just enchantments, and apparently we were right. They must be keys to other gates,” said Stormblade.
“I’ll help you to carry this through,” said Ragnar, picking up one end of the crate.
I was sure I could carry the whole thing by myself, but that seemed a rude thing to say, so I seized the other end. I said, “Goodbye, and thanks for everything,” and walked into the gate.
As before, I passed through what appeared to be jump space and then stepped out into Narcion’s cabin. It was exactly as I had left it. Not a single thing was out of place; perfect blandness. Ragnar came through the gate after me and we put down the chest next to the gate. The gate closed behind him as if it knew its task was done.
Ragnar was looking around the room, examining everything visually as if he were looking for something. Before I could say anything to him, over the ship’s intercom I heard Crivreen’s voice: “Great, you’re back! I’ll be down there in a minute; until then, hold tight. I am going to move the ship through a few jumps.”
“Jumps?” asked Ragnar.
“Yeah, you’d probably better wait till that’s over before you head back. I don’t know what effect they will have on the gate,” I said.
Moments later we were in jump space. Once we had cleared it, I saw Ragnar leaning on the wall for support. “What just happened?” he asked.
“Crivreen is moving us to a new location. I am sure he has a reason. Have you never traveled through jump space before?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “What is that?”
“It is how spacecraft travel great distances. It is somewhat disorientating the first couple of times, but after a while you get used to it. If I know Crivreen, we will be jump … ” I started to say, but I was cut off by our next entrance into jump space.
Crivreen took us into jump space three more times after that. Ragnar, having never dealt with the post-jump hangover before, was not doing well. I hoped the effects would pass soon. I could not imagine what it was like never to have experienced jump space and then go through several rapid-fire jumps in succession.
Before he could completely recover, Crivreen came bounding in and said, “Hey, Narcion … but that’s not Narcion!”
“No. Why did you think it was?” I asked.
“You went through that gate to find him, and then I saw on the security camera that you had come back with someone, so I assumed that meant you had found him,” said Crivreen. “Who is this, then?”
“My name is Ragnar. I am a relative of Narcion’s, in a way.”
“I see,” said Crivreen. “Are you sure it was a good idea to bring him here?”
“Well, I suppose I’d better get you back,” I said.
“No, wait,” said Ragnar. “I think I can help you to find Narcion.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“If you take me to where he went through the portal, I might be able to read the traces and get an idea of who cast the gate,” he said.
“How?” asked Crivreen.
“Every magus has a unique pattern in the magic they cast, so I should be able to read that pattern in the traces,” he said.
“But wouldn’t something like that fade with time? It has been weeks,” said Crivreen.
“The chances are not great, but Zah’rak said you have very little magic out here, so I am hoping that no other spells have been cast in that room since the portal was opened. If so, I have a good chance of getting a reading,” he said.
“That is why you have a pack,” I said.
“Yes. I planned to ask you if I could come with you, but Stormblade forbade me,” he said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Zah’rak, do you know where you were?” he asked.
“Some remote planet, I thought,” I said.
“Tell me, what do you know about the Great War?” he asked.
“Not much; just that it gave rise to magic and caused the Empire to fall,” I said.
“Really? It was a defining moment for life as you know it,” he started.
“Sorry, I’ve never been much good at history, and it was fought far from here,” I said.
“This is going to be harder than I thought,” he said.
“I have studied it extensively. What did you want to say about it?” asked Crivreen.
“You have?” I asked.
“Yes, and you should too, but maybe I can give you a crash course later,” he said.
“Well, as you know then, there was a time when magic was just a fantasy here, and no one thought much of it, until the sorcerers came and changed all that. They tried to use their power to take control of this realm, but Grandmaster Vydor led a massive army of wizards and mundanes and pushed them back. Thus the age of magic was born,” said Ragnar.
“That is the really, really short version, but yes,” said Crivreen.
“Do you know where those sorcerers came from?” asked Ragnar.
“Yes; another realm, Korshalemia,” said Crivreen.
“Another realm? What is that?” I asked. I felt as if I were back in Narcion’s house, listening to Stormblade and the others talk. This was all alien to me.
“It’s like another universe, a whole other reality separate from our own,” said Crivreen.
“Exactly; and that is where you were just a few minutes ago, Zah’rak,” said Ragnar.
“What?” I asked. I was trying to wrap my mind around the conversation, but with little success.
“So Narcion is from Korshalemia?” asked Crivreen.
“No, I don’t think so, but he lived with us for a long time,” said Ragnar, and then he went on to tell Crivreen what they had told me about Narcion.
“Why did Stormblade forbid you to ask if you could accompany me?” I asked, as I finally started to catch up.
“Grandmaster Korshalem has ordered that all travel between the realms must cease. He is trying to completely sever our ties with this realm. As a wizard, I fall under the jurisdiction of the current grandmaster of the realm, and therefore am subject to his laws and rulings,” he said.
“But you came anyway,” said Crivreen.
“As far as I know Grandmaster Vydor, who is the grandmaster of this realm, has no such rule and, as a wizard in this realm, I will now fall under his rulings,” he said.
“Sounds like you’re splitting hairs,” said Crivreen.
“If you want to send me back, I will go. However, I am a trained wizard; I can help you find Narcion and perhaps teach you some magic along the way,” he said.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
“My people are on the decline. Soon we will retreat into the mountains and be forgotten. This is my only chance to change my future. If I did not grasp this opportunity, I would always wonder ‘what if I had?’ I had a small opportunity back there in Narcion’s house and I took it,” he said.
“What do you think?” I privately asked Crivreen.
“You went through the gate looking for clues and found one, potentially a big one. Even if he fails to read the trail to Narcion, he knows magic! Think of what he could teach us!” replied Crivreen with a great deal of excitement.
“Do you realize that if you ever go back, you will be a criminal?” I asked.
“I won’t be able to go back. In an hour or two, Stormblade will guess what has happened and wait no longer; he will destroy the gate,” said Ragnar.
“Why?” I asked.
“Remember, Grandmaster Korshalem has forbidden any connection between the realms. They risk running afoul of the Wizard Council if they do not destroy it,” he said. There was an ominous tone to his words that made it clear they would not risk that.
“But how would they even know it was there?” I asked.
“When you activated the
gate, it betrayed its presence,” he said. “That is probably why we found that sorcerer near the house. I am sure that seeing the gate activated a second time will be enough for the Wizard’s Council to send someone out to see what has happened. Stormblade will no doubt stay by the gate until they come, so that he can explain to them what happened and show them that he destroyed the gate.”
I was very unsure what to do. I suspected that Stormblade was delaying the destruction of the gate to give me time to send Ragnar back to them. Since that was the law of their land, I probably should send him back, but Crivreen had a valid point: if I sent him back, we would have nothing to go on. He represented the only potential lead we currently had. In the end, nothing else really mattered; we had to rescue Narcion. “Okay, allot him some quarters and teach him how to live on a spaceship. Based on my visit over there, I doubt if he has ever seen one before.”
Chapter Thirty-One
I left them to chat and went back to my quarters to get a decent night’s sleep for a change. The next morning the three of us met for breakfast in the mess hall. I noticed that Crivreen and Ragnar’s choice of breakfast was drastically different. Crivreen had a very heavy meat-based meal and was drinking some concoction that I could not identify. Ragnar had lighter and more balanced fare, a meal comprising mainly fruits, grains, and vegetables, and his drink was pure water. Crivreen ate fast with big bites, and Ragnar’s consumption was slow and careful.
What struck me as even odder was when I looked down at what I had unconsciously chosen to eat; it was much the same as Ragnar’s. While I was a slave under Donovan, I would have killed for a meal like Crivreen’s, but the years training and living with Narcion seemed to have changed my tastes. He taught me that a proper meal was part of preparing for battle. The right mix of food would give the energy and clarity of mind that a warrior needed to get an edge over any worthy opponent. Looking at Ragnar, whom I knew by experience to be a great warrior, I felt even more certain that Narcion was right about food. I would have to make an effort to teach Crivreen to eat a healthier diet.
The Sac'a'rith Page 22