Vahi’s large dark eyes met Dal’s yellow. “How did it come about that Rasaad was lost but the artifacts were not?” The acrid odor of torch smoke lingered on the older man’s clothing. That and the sharp tang of blood, along with a dank, wet odor—a scent that made Vahi think of deep tunnels—assaulted the bhor’s acute sense of smell.
Chetra Dal gave Vahi an account of what happened. He told it without inflection or flair, but as a simple interchange of information. Still, Vahi could picture the scene as the story unfolded. To his keen mind, it was as vivid as if he were there himself.
They were in Iboghan, in a cavern far below the surface of the land. The chamber in which they fought was littered with stalagmites, and the torch light flickered, causing the scene to have a surreal quality, almost as if not fully solid. While two of the small party opposing Ayim Rasaad held her soldiers at bay in the narrow opening to the cavern, the woman herself fought against Rindu Zose, the Zouyim monk; Nalia Wroun, the Sapsyr; and Sam Sharp, a man from another world who was reported to be the “Hero of Gythe.” Meanwhile, a small furry creature, a hapaki, stood guard over the two artifacts he had pilfered from Rasaad before she could react.
Rasaad, once a Zouyim monk and briefly one of the Arzbedim, was more now, able to meld her physical fighting abilities with her use of the rohw, the vibrational power all Zouyim used. In addition, she used the awkum Dal had taught her to use, a power in many ways the opposite of the rohw and in many ways more powerful. Her opponents were no match for her.
Rindu Zose had tried to use his rohw to push Rasaad, but his impotent energy attacks merely slid off the shields she had constructed. His defenses were not so potent, however, and Dal’s apprentice lifted Rindu with her power and hurled him across the cavern. Nalia Wroun and Sam Sharp had no more success in hurling their useless energy at Rasaad.
Chetra Dal, cloaked in shadows of his awkum, watched his apprentice. If the woman could defeat the enemies, then so be it. If not, he would step in and aid her. At the appropriate moment. In the meantime, he would watch and see what unfolded. It seemed to him that Rasaad would handily defeat them. They could not contend with the power that was unfamiliar to her opponents.
Dal saw Ayim Rasaad gather the power within herself for a final, deadly assault. Soon now, soon. He watched with interest as the three arrayed against her.
From the side of his vision, he saw a glow. Sam was gathering his own power within himself. Not awkum, but rohw. He had strength, this one, but still not enough to break Rasaad’s shields. He would die along with his two friends.
The ex-Zouyim master tilted his head and looked more carefully. What was Sam doing? He was not gathering his power for an attack, neither for a defense. He reached out, trying to connect to…
As Chetra Dal watched, Sam’s intention became clear. But Dal was too late. Sam’s energy encompassed Rindu and then Nalia, and then the power from the other two slid perfectly into synchronization with his. They became one harmonious well of rohw, shining like the sun. Dal realized at that point that Rasaad was lost. More, he was not sure even he could withstand the onslaught of such force.
He watched in horror as Sam directed the rohw to batter Rasaad’s shields. No, not batter. His power swept her impervious barrier away as a leaf in a strong wind. But it could not harm her. So perfectly balanced were the two opposing forces that they nullified each other. It would remain so, unless Sam chanced upon a revelation about how to use his power. He seemed to learn quickly, figuring things out intuitively. Any second he might determine the correct path.
No, it was too risky for Chetra Dal to engage in a battle with so many unknown elements. The wiser course would be to retreat and regroup, fighting when the odds were surer. Though the loss of his apprentice was unfortunate, the important thing was to get the artifacts.
As he distracted the hapaki with a small use of power, causing a stalactite to fall near it, Dal swept up the artifacts and moved further into the shadows at the edge of the chamber. While he prepared to use Azgo, the bell, to teleport away, he witnessed Nalia Wroun battle physically with Ayim Rasaad as the other two combatants focused on keeping Rasaad’s shields down. Just before Dal winked out of the chamber and appeared in his own fortress, the Sapsyr defeated Rasaad, separating her head from her body.
Chetra Dal finished his account and dipped his head. “Perhaps we could have defeated the three together, but it was far from certain. I alone am left to wield the awkum and the rohw and could not chance both of us being killed. It was unfortunate, but necessary, I think.”
“I believe you are correct,” Vahi said. “I have observed these and have battled with other Zouyim. They can be very resourceful, I think. We will have another chance, and now we have two of the three artifacts.”
“Yes, yes.” Dal sounded like he was convincing himself. “But now we must plan. We must get to the third and final artifact, Bruqil the tuning fork, before our adversaries do. Once we have all three, we can destroy this new government at will, fortress or no. Summon Tingai for me. We have planning to do, and he will have a part.”
Vahi bowed, his long, gangly body bending almost double, and then turned on his heels and left the room. There would be killing soon, and he would be in the middle of it. As he should be. It was, after all, what his people were created for.
Chapter 2
“So, what do we do now?” Sam Sharp asked no one in particular. He paced the library that Dr. Walt had taken as his base of operations. Rindu Zose the Zouyim master and Nalia Wroun, last of the Sapsyra Shin Elah sat at one of the long tables. Dr. Walt was there, too, of course. He rarely left the room.
“I am at a loss as well,” Rindu answered. “When we obtained the drum artifact Orum before Ayim Rasaad, I believed we had succeeded in halting her plans to use them to take control of all Gythe and set herself up as its ultimate ruler. After we defeated her and then found both rohw artifacts missing, all that we knew changed.”
Rindu was as solid as ever, despite his hesitation. He reminded Sam of a huge stone that could weather all storms without so much as shifting. His expressionless face, slightly tilting dark eyes flanking a wide, flat nose, didn’t betray the uncertainty Sam felt.
“It is still a mystery to me how the artifacts disappeared,” Nalia Wroun said. “How was someone able to snatch them from beneath our very feet?” Her beautiful face took on a cast of irritation as her delicate nose crinkled in distaste.
Sam shook his head, disgusted. “We had them, both of them. All we had to do was to keep track of the items. I should have been paying more attention.”
No, Sam, Skitter sent to his mind. It was my fault. I had them in my possession, but in watching the battle between you and Ayim Rasaad, I let my attention shift. They were right next to me, and I never saw the thief who took them.
Sam had almost forgotten that Skitter was in the room, too. He bent to look under the table and saw the hapaki’s stocky, brown-furred body curled up on the floor. His wise little face, nose pointed and whiskered like a cross between a raccoon and a lemur, turned toward the human. Sam and Skitter could communicate mind-to-mind through a mixture of feelings, the normal way hapaki communicated, and words, Sam’s human method for expressing himself.
I think we’re all to blame, really, Sam amended, sending along feelings of sadness and disappointment. We thought Rasaad was the only enemy to worry about. We had no idea there was another one.
“What is done is done,” Rindu said, cutting to the heart of the matter. “The milk should not cry over the cracked eggs.”
Three human heads and one hapaki swiveled to look at the Zouy. “I think you may have mixed two sayings up,” Sam said to him. “I think what you’re looking for is ‘you shouldn’t cry over spilled milk.’”
“Ah, yes. Of course. That makes much more sense.” Sam had given the Zouyim monk a gift of several books of “wisdom.” Rindu was fond of quoting wisdom from old masters, so Sam brought him the books from Telani, also called Earth, the world from w
hich Sam came. Rindu was trying to learn English so he could translate the books into Kasmali, the language spoken on Gythe, but his grasp of the language was tenuous. It made for some confusing, and often humorous, phrases.
“The point is,” Dr. Walt said in his British accent, “there is but one artifact left, and we need to find it first. If our adversary obtains it and uses the three together, we would not be able to withstand his power.” The doctor shook his grizzled head, white mane flying as if in a windstorm. He pushed his glasses further up onto his nose.
“That’s the other thing,” Sam said. “We’re not even sure who or what we’re fighting against.”
“According to Lahim, we do know the name of the one who took the two artifacts,” Dr. Walt pointed out.
Lahim Chode was a seer, a man with the ability to remote view events, as he explained it. His glimpses of places and times were sometimes helpful, sometimes confusing, and sometimes downright frustrating. He said he had obtained information about their foe, though Sam wasn’t sure yet how reliable the information was. He didn’t doubt that Chode had talent and saw things, but he doubted the interpretations at times.
“Chetra Dal,” Sam said. As he did so, he looked to Rindu. The Zouy had reacted strangely when he heard the name from Lahim Chode just a few hours before. He and the other Zouyim master Torim Jet had said they knew the person. Rindu’s face was normally all but unreadable. There was emotion there now—his eyes round, nostrils flaring, mouth slightly parted. “You knew Chetra Dal, Master Rindu?”
Rindu’s eyes pointed toward the stone wall of the library but looked as if they were focused on something outside the room, hundreds of yards away. He was silent for a moment.
Turning his eyes toward Sam and focusing them, he spoke. “Chetra Dal was a great Zouyim master. He was instrumental to my training in my younger days at the temple, but not just mine. He influenced everyone who met him. He had an aura of peace and wisdom about him that even those not sensitive to the rohw felt.
“The brothers tried on more than one occasion to make him Grandmaster of the Zouyim. He always refused, stating that others were better suited for the position. Still, the Grandmasters rarely made an important decision without consulting Master Dal. He was the wisest and most powerful man I have ever known.
“He it was who taught me what it means to be a Zouy, and he it was who showed me how to walk the path, the wireh. My calligraphy brushes and supplies were Master Dal’s, and he taught me everything I know about the characters of Syray and the art of writing them to come into harmony with the rohw.”
Rindu’s expression drooped, becoming sadder than Sam had ever seen it. “When I was but fifteen years old, Master Dal went on a dangerous mission. He never returned. Word of his death reached the temple, and we mourned his passing for several weeks. We could not believe he was gone. The Zouyim Order lost much that day.”
The others were quiet, waiting to see if Rindu would continue.
After a moment, he shook his head as if to clear the memories. “I find it impossible to believe he is responsible for any evil. That he lives is possible because I could believe that even death could not defeat my master, but to work against us, against all Gythe? This I cannot believe. Perhaps Lahim Chode saw what he has told us, but there must be a misunderstanding in what he observed. Master Chetra Dal could not be the power behind the wickedness we have seen.”
Wood crackled in the fireplace. The others looked at each other in silence, none wanting to be the first to speak. Finally, Dr. Walt cleared his throat.
“I am sure there’s a logical explanation for it, Rindu. Maybe we should focus on the artifact itself, and this other matter will resolve itself. No matter who it is we are fighting against, one thing is clear. He is trying to gather the last of the artifacts so the three can be used together to destroy the government we are working so hard to create. If we prevent him from using the three together, we will succeed, whoever he is.”
“It is so,” Rindu said, regaining his normal stoic, expressionless demeanor.
“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Sam said, “but I’m tired from all the running and battles and other things that have happened today. I think I’m going to try to get some sleep and tackle this problem tomorrow. Maybe after sleep, things will be clearer.”
“That sounds like the right idea, Sam,” Dr. Walt said. “Perhaps we can get together after breakfast and talk more about what we have to do. Time is of the essence, but a few hours of sleep will give us a new perspective.”
Everyone agreed and headed off to their own chambers to sleep. In the morning, thought Sam, we can start fresh. Maybe things will seem simpler. They couldn’t get any more complex. Of that he was sure.
Chapter 3
The next four days were interminable. Sam was on edge the entire time, wanting to do something, but not knowing what he could do. Without information about the last artifact’s location, he and the others had no clear course.
Emerius was as tense as his bowstring, stalking around and snapping at any who talked to him. Any except Ix. The hunter and the assassin seemed to have become friends.
Sam didn’t spend much time with either of them, though. He spent most of his day helping Dr. Walt, looking through the libraries for information about Bruqil. He squeezed in lessons with Rindu and some sparring with Nalia, but barely. He was thankful he could. Without those outlets to his pent-up energy, he would have gone mad.
There was an insistent sound trying to crack the shell of Sam’s thoughts.
“I say, Sam, did you hear me? Sam?” Dr. Walt said.
“Oh. What? I’m sorry Dr. Walt, I was just going over some things in my mind. What did you say?”
“It’s quite all right, my boy. I understand. I said that Lahim is here. He says he has had a viewing.”
Sam’s head snapped up. Lahim Chode had come into the library and was leaning on his walking stick. The man really did look healthier. Aside from his limp, which Sam was sure would disappear completely in time, he was the picture of health. With his face fleshed out and his hair cut and neatly combed, he hardly looked like the crazed seer he appeared to be when Sam first met him.
“Hi, Lahim,” Sam said, waving at the man. “How are you? You are looking fit as a fiddle these days.”
The seer looked at Sam quizzically.
Okay, maybe that wasn’t a saying in Gythe.
“Thank you,” he said with the slightest hesitation, as if he wasn’t sure if it was a compliment. “I just wanted to tell you”—he motioned to Dr. Walt, Torim Jet, and Rindu—“and the others, that I have had a viewing. I’m not sure how much it will help, though.”
“That is wonderful, Lahim Chode,” Rindu said. “Please, sit here while you tell us.” He took a small stack of books off the cushioned chair beside him.
Chode took the seat while whispering his gratitude. “It is a partial vision, mind you, something that makes no sense to me yet, but I am hoping it will become clear later on. I have been trying to find the last artifact, the tuning fork Bruqil, but with remote viewing you cannot consciously focus on something to see it. You have to do it in a…roundabout way. I have to convince myself I am not looking for something, while still allowing the deeper part of my mind know that I am in fact looking for it. It’s a difficult thing. In any case, I think I have seen the hiding place of the artifact.”
Sam couldn’t contain himself. “That’s great, Lahim. How can you say it won’t be helpful? That’s exactly what we’ve been looking for.”
The seer’s downcast eyes made Sam realize that the information probably wasn’t exactly what he had been wishing for.
“I saw a doorway. It was large, maybe twice as high and twice as wide as the double doors to this library. It was made of stone, but it was also not of stone. It blended into the surrounding rock, but as it opened, it glimmered as if lit from within. I caught glimpses of snow surrounding it, and a crystal clear lake that was perfectly still just to the side of it.
Sam understood now the seer’s caution about the information. It really didn’t tell them anything useful.
All those gathered in the room were silent for a long moment.
Finally, Dr. Walt spoke up. “Thank you, Lahim. As you say, the information may not help us right now, but put together with other information we find, it may be the key to determining the location we are looking for.” The scholar was still scribbling on a piece of paper in front of him, no doubt his notes about the vision.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help more,” Lahim Chode said. “I will keep trying to find more information. It is frustrating at times, this power of mine.”
Sam put his hand on the seer’s shoulder. “I’m sure the information will be very helpful once we’re able to tie all the clues together. Thank you. Will you stay for a few minutes and have something to eat, maybe chat with us?”
Chode smiled at Sam. “Yes, I think that would be nice. I can spare a few moments before going back and trying again.”
After Lahim Chode and the two Zouyim left, Sam sat heavily onto one of the chairs. “This is driving me crazy,” he said to Dr. Walt. “We are just sitting around while Chetra Dal is heading toward the last artifact. I’m sure he already knows where it is. He doesn’t seem to be the type that would initiate a series of actions unless he had planned and obtained all the information he needed from the start.”
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