Harmonic Magic Series Boxed Set

by P. E. Padilla

  “How are you?” Chisin asked. “Are you getting used to the travel yet? It is rugged terrain, more so for someone not used to long distances.”

  “I’m fine,” Nicole said, and realized that she meant it. “Each day is a little easier. I think I’m becoming more accustomed to the hard travel. I will be much fitter by the time we’re done with our mission.”

  The captain laughed. “Yes, I am sure you will. More so even than your son, who is taking it easy and sleeping in his bed every night after traveling on roads.”

  “Don’t remind me. I think I’ll slap his head the next time I see him just because of it, even if it was my choice to do this.”

  One of the soldiers stepped up to Chisin and saluted. “Captain, one of the men saw smoke ahead. It looks to be on the beach several miles to the west.”

  “I see. Send Hant Marr to investigate,” she told him. “And call a halt for everyone else. There are only a few hours of daylight left, so we can set up camp while we wait for him to report what he finds.” He saluted again and went to find the man.

  “That’s right in our path and I don’t want to be surprised,” she told Nicole. “We can swing wide if necessary, but I’d rather hug the coast as we move. The way is easier there.”

  Nicole nodded. She dropped her pack and sighed. Another day of travel done. “I’ll help make the fire and dinner tonight,” she said. “I feel bad that you all are working but I’m not pulling my weight. No—” she held her hands up toward the captain, “—I know you’re going to argue, but it’s only fair. I want to help. Don’t make me order you to let me do so.”

  “Okay, Nicole,” she chuckled. “I will sit back and rest while you slave over a cook fire. Just don’t tell Danaba or we’ll both be in trouble, I think.”

  It was nearly dark by the time Hant Marr came back. He was a small, thin man with close shorn brown hair and an odd way of tilting his head at anyone speaking to him. His unblinking dark eyes locked onto the person addressing him, mainainting unblinking eye contact for longer than seemed natural. When Nicole had first met him, the staring made her uncomfortable, but she soon realized that it was just what he did. He paid attention to every little detail, always focused on the matter at hand.

  He was a good man, she came to find, the father of two young boys. He had moved his family to Whitehall recently, his wife getting a job as a servant in the keep when he came to join the new government’s forces. At times, he would tell of his sons during meals around the fire. Nicole liked how he talked about them. It reminded her of Sam when he was a boy.

  “It was a large camp fire,” he reported. “Whoever made it left it to burn itself out. It was on the beach, so there was no chance of it catching the trees on fire. There were scrapes nearby, the tracks of two boats being dragged up on the sand. Footprints, too, but they overlapped so much it was hard to tell how many people there were. I’d guess nearly twenty. I scouted the area but found no one.”

  “Maybe they were traveling around the peninsula, hugging the coast, and they stopped for a rest,” Nicole offered.

  “That’s my assessment, too,” Marr said.

  “Maybe,” the captain said. “Still, double the guard tonight. I don’t like it that they were so close.” She turned to Nicole. “We’ll have to decide if we should go a little inland to skirt the area in case they come back. I don’t like things I can’t explain and my gut is telling me there’s more here than we see.”

  Nicole was woken from her sleep by an insistent sending from Max. Nicole. Nicole! There is something going on. Can you hear it?

  She sat up and rubbed her eyes. The fire was only embers nearby and the silhouettes of the others sleeping around her were still. What? What is it Max? She listened, but could hear nothing but the soft popping of the embers, the breathing of her companions, and the crickets around them.

  I heard something, like a large animal moving about outside of camp. Or several of them.

  Do you know what it is? she sent to him.

  No. Wait, that sounded like—

  Nicole heard a sound then, a soft thump a dozen feet away. She pushed Chisin, who was lying less than two feet away. The captain jerked up, knife flashing out from somewhere, stopping just short of Nicole’s throat. When her eyes focused, she pulled the knife away and an embarrassed expression crept onto her face.

  “What—?” was all Chisin got out before there was an explosion of movement around the camp.

  The captain ducked under a sword swing, rolled, and came up while unsheathing one of her own swords which had been lying next to her. The blade came out of the scabbard in an arc, cutting into the man who had been trying to kill her. He cried out and fell to the ground, his lifeblood spilling out.

  Chisin Ling was already moving toward another shape in the darkness as she called out. “Up, up, we are attacked. Up!”

  The other soldiers roused and brought their weapons to bear. It was all Nicole could do to cower in her cloak and hope that no one noticed her. She watched in horror as people died around her.

  Max, are you safe? Max, talk to me, she sent to the hapaki.

  I’m fine, he sent. I am huddled near the manu birds and supplies. I will be fine. We hapaki are good at hiding.

  She had no time to respond to him. A shadow had detached itself from the others and was coming toward her, the red glow from the embers reflecting in his eyes. He raised a massive sword as he came.

  Looking left and right and finding combatants all around her, she did the only thing she could. She scuttled backwards like a crab, trying to put more distance between herself and that weapon. The man smiled, rotted teeth clenched, and swung downward.

  Nicole rolled to the side as the sword struck the ground where she had been. Her body rammed into a fallen log, stopping her escape and trapping her just as thoroughly as if she would have been in a cage. The man turned toward her, raising his sword again. This time, she knew there would be no escape. He widened his stance and swung the sword downward once again.

  Not knowing what else to do, Nicole kicked up as hard as she could. Her foot glanced off the inside of the man’s leg and struck his crotch. It wouldn’t stop her from being killed, but at least she would hurt him. She closed her eyes and waited for death.

  It didn’t’ come. There was a clanging, grating sound and the sense of movement above her. She opened her eyes in time to see Chisin Ling’s sword deflecting the one that had been coming at her and then flow in a smooth arc around to strike the neck of the man. His head came cleanly off his body and the momentum of the strike caused his headless corpse to lean over and fall to the side.

  The captain looked at her, scanning her to make sure she was unharmed, and then wordlessly engaged another intruder coming toward them.

  Nicole was in shock for a moment, not knowing what to think or how to feel. After that, she rolled onto her hands and knees and vomited everything she had ever eaten.

  Chapter 26

  Dr. Walt rubbed his eyes. He had been spending almost all his time in the libraries, searching for information that would help Sam and the others locate the artifacts. He hadn’t seen his chambers in days, just taking short naps in the library when he physically couldn’t go on. He had to find the information. It must be here. Somewhere.

  He had at his disposal the largest library in the world, as far as he knew. He had thought much about it and decided that the Gray Man was probably only responsible for collecting a small part of the knowledge housed at Whitehall. Though the keep had changed owners many times over the centuries, it had always retained its wealth in the written word. He was sure of it.

  The old scholar looked across the room to Torim Jet and Palusa Filk. They had kindly put themselves at his disposal, searching through the libraries and trying to find what they all so desperately sought.

  “Hmm, interesting,” Torim Jet said in a whisper. The heavy silence in the room allowed Dr. Walt to hear it clearly.

  “Have you found something, Torim?” Dr. Walt a
sked.

  “Not something related to our search, no. Something of interest to me, however.”

  Dr. Walt got up slowly, his limbs creaking. He walked over to where Torim Jet had a book open. He was flipping through the pages. The book didn’t look very old.

  “This,” Torim Jet said, “is a book written by the great Zouyim master Chetra Dal. It is called The Twelve Forms of the Wind. It was required reading in the Zouyim temple for more than forty years before the temple was destroyed. I remember Master Dal. He had a large part in shaping who and what I would be as I grew older.”

  Dr. Walt looked at the book. “It’s a book of wisdom, then?”

  “Something like that,” Jet answered. “Master Dal always had a very clear picture of how the universe worked, how the rohw interacted with everything. The title is metaphoric, of course. The book describes how the wind is symbolic of all things, of all life. After all, the word rohw itself means ‘breath’ or ‘wind’ in Ancient Kasmali, as well as Old Kasmali. It is a fascinating work, and each time I read it, I perceived new information I had not understood before.”

  “Well, then,” Dr. Walt said, “you should take it. You will need to start a library when you re-establish the Zouyim temple. Let this work be your first.”

  Torim Jet’s eyes glistened and he bowed his head. “Thank you, Dr. Walt. That is very kind of you. I have waited for more than eight years for a time when that would be possible. I can hardly believe that it is true. Often when I was hiding and running for my life I had wondered if the Zouyim would be erased from Gythe forever. It makes my heart sing that we can begin working to establish the order anew.”

  “Yes, I understand,” Dr. Walt said. “Gythe would be a very different place without the Zouyim. I wouldn’t like to see it. Know that you will have the full support of the new government and that you have the full support of Whitehall right now. Anything you need to rebuild the temple is yours.”

  The old monk nodded and wiped a tear from his eye. “Thank you Dr. Walt. That means much to me.”

  “Is it true?” Palusa Filk said. “We are really going to rebuild the temple, re-establish the order?”

  “I have talked about it with Rindu from the very start,” Dr. Walt said. “It has always been the plan to bring back both the Zouyim and the Sapsyra. It is one of our highest priorities. It will happen. Sam supports the idea as much as I.”

  Palusa Filk smiled and let loose with a little giggle. “That will be wonderful.” Her face grew more serious. “For now, though, we have work to do. Sam needs our help, so we better not let him down.”

  They went back to searching through the library, after Torim Jet placed the book he had been given in the center of the table. As he went about his work, he glanced at it often and got a faraway look in his eyes.

  An hour and a half later, Dr. Walt’s tired eyes went wide. He read the passage over again that he had just read twice before. He wanted to be sure. When he finished, he took a deep breath, read the passage one more time, and then whooped, causing Torim Jet and Palusa Filk to snap their heads up. The guards standing near the door and windows jumped and had their weapons out in the blink of an eye.

  “What is it?” Torim Jet asked calmly.

  “I’ve found it. I found a reference to the artifacts.”

  Sam, Nalia, Rindu, and Skitter arrived at Whitehall in time to meet the others for dinner. He wanted to tell them of Blackwood and of the twins they had met. And that huge bear. He was still feeling a bit subdued, not entirely comfortable with leaving his two new party members. It was strange to leave the path and sleep in a bed while they stayed behind.

  “Sam,” Nalia said, touching his arm and interrupting his thoughts, “do not worry about what Emerius says. We have discussed this before. It is right to allow the rakkeben to rest and it is right for us to rest. Nothing would have been gained had we stayed with Emerius and Inoria and camped there.”

  “I know,” he said. “I just feel like we could be doing more. Obviously, Emerius agrees.”

  “You must not worry about what others think, Sam,” Rindu said. “As it is said, ‘The fool worries over what other fools believe, but the wise man knows his path and listens only to himself.’”

  Sam caught himself staring at the Zouy. He saw that Nalia was as well. They both shook their heads as if to clear their thoughts.

  “Thank you, Master Rindu,” Sam said. “I’ll try to remember that.”

  Did you understand that? Skitter sent to Sam.

  I think I know what he was saying, yes, Sam sent back. It was…awkwardly worded.

  The four went to the dining room and found Dr. Walt, Torim Jet, Palusa Filk, and Danaba Kemp just sitting down to eat.

  “Sam!” Dr. Walt was speaking quickly and obviously excited, “I found it.”

  “That’s great, Dr. Walt,” Sam said. “Uh, found what?”

  “Information on the artifacts. What else?”

  “Oh. Fantastic,” Sam said. “What did you find out? How did you find it? Was it one of Lahim’s viewings?”

  “No, no,” Dr. Walt waved his hand as if shooing an insect away. “I did it the old-fashioned way. I skimmed a lot of books. Torim and Palusa helped me. We have hardly slept since you came back with news of the hapaki community. Let me tell you, it was quite a chore finding any information at all. There are so many books and scrolls and other types of records here. Three people can hardly be expected to—”

  Dr. Walt seemd to notice that everyone was staring at him, glaring at him, or rolling their eyes at him. “Anyway, anyway, I found a reference to the passages I showed you the other day. It’s actually commentary on what we read before.”

  “I won’t go into the specific information right now, but the important part is this…” He lifted a book from the chair next to him and put it on the table. A piece of pale blue ribbon was inserted between the pages to mark his place.

  Dr. Walt opened the book and began to read:

  It is evident that Azgo, the bell, is a tool by which the user can transport himself and an unknown number of people and things instantly to a location with which they are familiar. This effect, of course, is a minor one, shared by other artifacts, though perhaps it is more powerful in Azgo because one person can use it and there is no long ritual required to perform the transport. The true value of Azgo, however, is its ability to link with the other two artifacts to create a power like nothing Gythe has ever seen.

  It is likely that the bell is interred at Gromarisa, as per the ancient riddle, “How does one find its dulcet tones? Bed of bones, bed of bones!”

  The scholar looked up from the book, eyes dancing. “So, you see, it’s as clear as crystal.”

  Sam looked around. No one else was saying anything. He felt the room grow warmer. He could just hear Rindu saying, “If one asks a question, he is a fool, but if he does not, he is a fool for much longer. Or something like that.” He laughed inwardly at that, but the point was still valid.

  “Um, Dr. Walt,” Sam said. “I don’t understand what that means.”

  Dr. Walt’s eyebrows climbed his forehead and then his eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Sam. Sometimes I forget you haven’t spent a lot of time in Gythe. There is a very well-known geographical feature that is named Gromarisa. In Ancient Kasmali, ‘Gromarisa’ means ‘bed of bones.’”

  “Yeah, I got that part. I recognized the words. The name doesn’t mean anything to me other than what its literal translation is, though.”

  “Ah,” Dr. Walt said, “but it will make sense to you if I tell you in Telani terms. Gromarisa is called by another name on Earth. There, it’s known as the Grand Canyon.”

  Sam was flabbergasted. One of the three artifacts Ayim Rasaad was looking for was hidden in the Grand Canyon. All he could come up with was, “Why?”.

  “Ah,” Dr. Walt said, “that’s the fascinating part. The reference here says that it’s likely because of the unique acoustics of the area. Perhaps they strengthen it, though I’m of a mind that it’s
because the acoustics help to hide it, foiling attempts to use vibratory means to find it. Whoever hid the three artifacts—I haven’t found any reference yet that explains who they were—they wanted to be sure the items weren’t easy to find.”

  “But why, then,” Rindu asked, “would the bell be hidden in such a popular place as Gromarisa? After all, it is rumored that before the Great War, many people flocked to see the natural wonder.”

  “Yeah,” Sam said. “If it was anything like it is on Telani, millions of people a year would have visited it.”

  Dr. Walt pushed his glasses up further onto the bridge of his nose and tapped his forehead with his index finger, thinking. He suddenly looked up and pointed toward the ceiling with the finger. “Aha. I think it was hidden somewhere it could be found if it was ever needed, somewhere that doesn’t change. What better place than one that has been unique for thousands of years?”

  “Didn’t you just contradict yourself?” Sam asked.

  “Not at all, my boy. Not at all. You see, whoever hid the artifacts knew that they would eventually need to be found, that they would be needed. Still, they didn’t want to make them too easy to find. If they had wanted to keep anyone from ever using them, they would have just destroyed them.”

  “Okay,” Sam admitted. “That’s logical. But where are the others. Is that the only one mentioned?”

  “No,” Dr. Walt said. “All three are referenced, but the commentary skips around in this book and I haven’t had time to read all of the other sections yet to see if the locations are recorded. Azgo is the one we need to be concerned about right now. I’ll tell you about the others when I read the rest of the book.”

  “But Dr. Walt,” Nalia said, “how can you be sure that the bell is the first artifact Ayim Rasaad will go after?”

  “You tell me, my dear,” Dr. Walt said. “Why would she go after that one first? Why not go after Orum the drum, with the power to break down walls with its sound, or Bruqil the tuning fork, with the ability to combine all three artifacts together to make a powerful weapon?”