Wayfarer (The Empyrean Chronicle)

by Siana, Patrick

  He didn’t turn from the window as the door open and closed. After a few beats of charged silence, a timorous, male voice said, “Do you enjoy the view of our modest little city?”

  “Modest is not the word I would choose, but, yes, it is quite a sight. Although I imagine it would have been a great deal easier to build around the river instead of over it. And I’ve noticed that all of your buildings are made of granite or brick. Strange again, seeing as you are surrounded by acres upon acres of wood.”

  “It is contrary to our customs to cut down trees. The only wood we craft with are from trees that have fallen by natural means, which is why wooden furniture and jewelry is so valued.”

  “Then I must be highly regarded by your people,” Elias said, turning from the window, as he worried one of the cherry-wood manacles bound to his wrists. The manacles were a curiosity on several accounts, the first being that they didn’t include chains with which to bind his wrists together. Otherwise, they were seamless and claspless, and sweeping, elegant sigils were engraved into them in silver.

  The Enkilder’s face reddened. “Those are artifacts of the Highest Arcanum, wrought to bind dangerous persons.”

  Elias crossed his arms. “Do you feel in danger?” The Enkilder backed away from him, reaching blindly for the door handle. “Relax, the question was rhetorical.”

  “Oh,” said the Enkilder, who ceased his fumbling, but remained stiff. “You were making a joke, no?”

  Elias smiled and held his hands up. He took a good look at his captor. He had thought the second voice he heard in the ruins had sounded young, but he looked no older than eighteen, at least by usual human standards. His hair, which he wore long and tied back in a topknot, gleamed a deeper shade of yellow than the other Enkilder he had seen. Like Teah and Nyla he had green eyes and teardrop-shaped ears.

  “Let’s start with names. I am called Elias Duana.”

  “I am named Malak.”

  “Have you no surname?”

  Malak cleared his throat. “We don’t have House names. We did away with them long before I was born.”

  Elias filed that bit of knowledge away for further review later. “Well met, Malak. Now, can you tell me what I am doing here?”

  “This is my house. Well, my father’s house. He is an Arbiter.” Malak took a deep breath. “You are to be held here until a hearing of all seven Arbiter can be convened to determine your fate.”

  Elias felt his blood swell. “I make my own fate.” The bands around his wrists grew warm, but Elias ignored them and kept his eyes fixed on Malak, who blanched and pressed against the door.

  “Your desmene are smoking,” Malak said and fingered a wooden ring set with a silver band, which he wore on his right hand.

  Judging by the expression on his face, Elias guessed that this was an unforeseen effect. “What are their function?”

  “They’re wrought to bind the wearer’s Arcanum.”

  Elias took a steadying breath, for despite the iceberg sinking into his stomach, a pristine rage tightened his temples. “Are you telling me these things are supposed to prevent my using magic?”

  “That is their function, yes.”

  “Then why are they growing warm? I’m not using magic.”

  “It is said that the barbarians had poor control over their emotions, which led to reckless use of magic, or even the accidental use of it.”

  “Barbarian? Is that what you think I am? Need I remind you who is holding whom captive?”

  “No, no,” said Malak, pressing two fingers between his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that. Please, be at peace. We are peaceable people and mean you no harm.”

  “To hold someone against their will and to bind them is harmful.” When Malak’s only response was to peer at him with round eyes, Elias snorted. “No answer for that, eh?”

  Elias ignored Malak for the moment and turned his attention to his sword arm. The runes embossed into the flesh of his forearm had warmed and tingled, as if in memory of the day he had taken up his father’s blade and been marked by the mysterious weapon. Though he was bereft of the sword, some of its magic yet lingered, connected through the runes in some way he didn’t comprehend. The question remained, what were the significance and function of the markings?

  “Though they are crafted of wood,” said Malak, with no hint of malice in his voice, “they are indestructible. They may only be removed by he who put them on you.”

  Elias looked up and locked eyes with Malak. “Or by he who wears that ring.” Malak stood straight and his eyebrows climbed up to his hairline, eliciting another snort from Elias. “You needn’t be a mind reader to figure that one out.”

  Malak’s eyes narrowed. “The desmene block that as well.” Elias answered him with a broad grin and Malak flushed for the second time in as many minutes. “You’re joking again?”

  “Let no Enkilder say that barbarians haven’t a sense of humor.”

  “I just wanted to check on you. Elias. I... well, if you require anything, just rap on the door and I or one of my household will see to your needs.”

  Malak turned to door. “The door is warded. It will bar you from leaving even if you could break it down.”

  “The door’s granite, Malak. I may be stronger than you, but I can’t kick through walls, barbarian strength or not.”

  “Right. Good day, then.”

  Before Malak could close the door behind him, Elias asked, “Where is Teah?”

  Malak hesitated. “She’s held elsewhere.”

  “You’re lying. She’s in this very house.” Elias rattled his wrist. “Because of these, you think there’s no need to separate us. We’re no threat to you anymore.”

  “I’ll send supper up in an hour or so.”

  “Malak?”

  “Yes?” the young Enkilder answered in a small voice.

  “You could have left me here all day without a word. Thank you for showing me kindness. And give your friend, Mordum, my regards.”

  A pregnant silence fell over the chamber. Malak closed the door without a further word and left Elias to his thoughts.

  †

  After a supper of wild rice, forest mushrooms, and smoked salmon, Elias set about breaking out of his prison.

  He had to tip his hat to his captors, however, as to their hospitality. They certainly fed him and housed him better than Sarad Mirengi.

  While the desmene manacles kept him from using his magic, they didn’t impinge his ability to use his arcane sight. Elias gathered his focus and scanned his surroundings, looking for magical signatures. He guessed that the Enkilder didn’t house prisoners much, because while the door had indeed been warded, the windows were unbarred. Granted, he was held four or five stories above the granite bridges and river upon which the village was situated, but that wasn’t about to deter Elias Duana.

  Dusk lay on the land, a time when folk usually headed for home with their eyes on the path before them, or were sitting down to dinner. At the least, most had difficulty focusing in the half-light. These were Elias’s hopes, but he was unsure how much the Enkilder differed from his people in custom and physiology.

  With these thoughts in mind, Elias gingerly tried the latch on the windows, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as he discovered it unlocked. He opened one of the windows a crack and peered out. A thin ledge, little more than a decorative molding, ran atop an architrave that separated his floor and the one below him. Still, the granite would hold his weight, providing that he could stay on it. He hazarded a look down, and saw the unforgiving arch of a granite bridge directly below him. A glance to the left revealed an open patch of river past the corner of the townhouse. If it came to it, he could take his chances with a dive into the river. Before he considered escape, however, he needed to find Teah.

  To that end he crept onto the windowsill and perched there for several beats, regulating his breathing and clearing his mind. The air was still, devoid of breeze or gust to disturb his passage. He examined the ledge more closel
y. It was perhaps a hand across, six inches. If he stood on his toes, or his heels, he could move across it. A glance up revealed that his chamber was on the top floor. He might be able to reach up and grasp the top of the entablature for extra security. This also meant he might be able to gain the roof if he could gain sufficient purchase.

  With one foot still on the windowsill in his room, and a hand grasping the interior wall, he gingerly placed a foot on the outside ledge and reached up and grasped at the entablature. His fingers found enough of an outcropping that he could grasp it up to his second knuckles. It required him to stand on his toes to reach it, but that was just as well as he couldn’t fit his entire foot on the outer ledge. He swung his other foot out and gripped the entablature above him with both hands. He moved experimentally back and forth an inch or two in front of his open window. Satisfied that he could traverse the ledge in this fashion for a brief stint, he steeled his mind to set out.

  Elias focused on Teah, picturing her face. He felt a pull to his left, as if someone pulled an invisible string attached to his crown. With a deep breath, and a prayer on his lips, he set out in that direction, sliding one foot and hand at a time. After a frantic handful of heartbeats he approached the next window. His calves and fingers had already begun to burn and quiver in protest.

  He pressed close to the wall to take a bit of rest, though the awkward position offered scant comfort, and did little to restore him. The recess in which the window was set offered him a little more space, for which he was thankful. A haphazardly drawn curtain obscured his view, but it flapped open in the middle, a wedge of light pouring onto the outer windowsill. He shimmied over a few more inches and ducked his head quickly past the opening in the hopes to get a quick glance inside whilst remaining undetected.

  Elias laughed aloud, despite himself. Their captors had actually been daft enough to board the two of them in adjacent rooms, confirming yet again that the Enkilder were not accustomed to keeping prisoners. He supposed that Mordum and his lackey assumed that Elias would be helpless without a weapon or his magic, but that assumption showed a gross lack of sense.

  Elias rapped on the window. Teah who sat straight-backed at the edge of her bed shot to her feet. She spun toward the window, but jerked mid turn and took a shambling step to one side. Her head waggled and she glared through the window beneath drawn brows.

  Elias took a small pleasure at the perplexed expression that stole over her features. Since he had known her, it was the first time he had seen the ever composed Teah wear her emotions on her face. Having recovered within the span of a breath, she padded over to the window and cast it open.

  “Wayfarer, you are the most vexing creature I’ve ever known, but am I glad to see you. Now get in here at once.”

  Elias, all too happy to comply, swung into the room. “I’m glad you’re well.”

  Teah arched a delicate eyebrow. “Not that well, but, yes, we did survive our encounter with the Lichlor.”

  Elias knew they could ill afford wasting time with pleasantries, but he needed some questions answered before they made their escape attempt, in the case that their breakout failed or they were recaptured. “Why have your people taken us prisoner? But, first, what happened at the ruins?”

  “The one answer leads to the other. It was all I could do to keep the final Lichlor at bay while trying to keep the one at your throat from tearing it out. I feared we had lost, but then you called a bolt of lightning from the heavens. I’ve never seen anything like it. I wasn’t sure you would come out of that undamaged.”

  “Your magic is strong, I remember you healing me as they took you.”

  Teah’s eyebrow lifted again. “You regained consciousness? You must possess some native fortitude that allowed you to survive that massive surge of energy.”

  Elias grunted. “I have my own theories on that, but let’s save that subject for a later time.”

  “Very well. After you killed the alpha, one Lichlor yet remained—his mate, I think. She came at us but you were unconscious.” Something flickered over her features—contrition, grief, Elias was unsure. “She would’ve killed you. I hadn’t a choice. I phased behind her and cut her throat.” Though her expression remained as passive as ever, Teah’s eyes shined wet.

  Elias’s stomach dropped. He knew that it must have been something like that, but to hear her say it and to sense the storm of feelings surging through her filled him with a quiet sorrow. “I remember the first time I had to take a life. I can imagine how terrible it was for you. But thank you for saving me. Now I owe a debt of life to you and your daughter.”

  “Nyla,” said Teah. “We need to get to her.”

  “Do you know what’s become of her?”

  “No, but she is a clever girl. I believe that she can look out for herself, but I’m not willing to trust it to faith.”

  “We’ll find her, Teah. What happened next?”

  “Mordum, and no doubt others, sensed the unusual flux of arcane energies on the perimeter of our domain. There are wards set at our boundaries that high ranking Enkilder are attuned to. As Speaker, Mordum came at once to investigate.”

  “I remember something of him binding us, but little else.”

  “We broke our laws by venturing outside our domain without first clearing it with the Arbiter for permission. That, and we broke the High Law when we took the lives of the Lichlor.”

  “I respect your principles of pacifism, but those things are abominations. You said so yourself.”

  “A fact that no doubt will be taken into account during our hearing, but by the letter of the High Law it must be brought before the Legate Council.”

  “These Arbiter are the enforcers of your laws?”

  “And also our governing body.”

  “Shiny. And where does our friend Mordum fit into all of this?”

  “The Speaker is not an Arbiter, but he does carry much influence.”

  Elias’s thoughts turned to Leosis. “Is the Speaker your spiritual leader?”

  Teah’s lips pursed. “We don’t have a formal religion, although we have knowledge of the spirit world. No, the Speaker’s office is more of an honorary bestowed on our most competent Arcanist with the greatest understanding of the Deep Arcanum and the High Mysteries.”

  Elias turned that over in his mind for a moment. “So he’s like your Archmagus. Still, Mordum seems nothing like Leosis. By comparison he seems a strange choice.”

  “A fact that is not lost on me. Mordum wasn’t always with us. He was long in the outside world, before he found us. There are many who thought his long time in the Wilder lands had tainted him, but before we created this haven for ourselves we hailed from the same troubled lands as he, and he is our kin. Many fear that we won’t remain undetected forever and think that electing a Speaker who has recent experience with the outside world is sensible.”

  Elias filed that away and then galloped on to the next question. “Why is it that you’ve remained undetected and unbothered by the outside world all this time? Who are you people?”

  Teah hesitated, then turned from him and gazed out the window. Elias sensed the turmoil within her. “Listen, Teah, I know that you are a secretive people, and you have your reasons. And I believe they’re good ones, but I find myself imprisoned in a world I don’t understand. I need to know what I’m up against. I need to leave this place and find the Wandering Isle, and I’m beginning to have the feeling that if I don’t do so, and soon, that something beyond terrible is going to happen to the people that I care about. We’re in this together now, you and I.”

  Teah gave him a long and appraising look before she nodded. “You’re right. For better or worse, our fates are now one.

  “We have remained secreted away from the world for so long because this entire wood is out of phase with the rest of the land. It exists in a state of flux between the dimension Agia inhabits and the dimension the Fey once inhabited. Illedium is secreted away in the overtone between dimensions. This makes a poetic
sense because we Enkilder are a race of bastards, the spawn of the Highborn Fey and humans.

  “We are the offspring of the Dark Fey and their human slaves. In the centuries following the Gate Wars the White liberated as many of us as they could, but the truth was that we found little welcome in either camp, human or fey. Even more nomadic than the Wilder tribes of the steppe, we wandered until we found this place at the very heart of mankind’s demise. In ages past, aeon ago, before the rise of man, this wood was sacred to the White Fey. During the first Gate War they cast it between worlds for fear it would be destroyed. We had thought it lost forever, but Leosis’s mother found a way to bridge the gap and take us here. We have held Illedium uncontested since then, for the White abandoned this world long centuries ago to the forces of the Obsidian Queen, for the lengthy struggle had cost them too much.

  “On your own, you never would have been able to find it, but Nyla, who’s learned our secret lore, brought you inside our domain. Otherwise you would’ve seen naught but a blasted, desolate patch of earth. Leaving Illedium, as you learned, is easily done; entering it is another matter all together.”

  “Yet somehow the Lichlor tracked Nyla. They knew she was close. How?”

  “They picked up her scent and tracked it to the ruins, where it ended, but still they lingered. They should have journeyed on, seeking her trail elsewhere. No, they sensed her, though they shouldn’t have been able to. Something has changed, Elias Duana. Our domain seems to be shifting. Those that can sense arcane energies will begin to notice it.”

  Elias felt the weight of Teah’s eyes on him as she turned from the window. “What’s caused this change?” Elias asked, though he feared he already knew.

  “You, Wayfarer. Many think that it’s you.”

  Chapter 12

  The Slumbering Mind

  Bryn tolerated Phinneas and Danica’s ministrations, but her patience ebbed.

  Danica held up a miniature bull’s-eye lantern and peered into her eyes. “She shows no sign of brain shock.”

  Phinneas turned over Bryn’s hand. “Pulse steady, if elevated. Gross motor function intact, as is circulation.”