Without pausing, Cal led Lyra directly toward the same room they had visited last time, not seeing another soul other than the single guard who stood outside the door. The armored man stepped in their path, and Cal gave the man an even glare. The guard’s eyes shifted down and away, unwilling to meet Cal’s gaze as he stepped aside. With a grunt, Cal walked past and thrust the door open. Lyra found herself grinning as she followed him inside.
Unlike last time, there was nobody in the room other than the men seated on the thirteen thrones. The man who was speaking stopped abruptly and turned toward Cal. The other twelve men did the same.
“What is the meaning of this interruption?” one of the men demanded.
Before Cal could respond, the man named Victor spoke. “You better have something meaningful to report.”
Cal nodded to Victor as he stopped before the dais. “Yes. I believe you will find my latest discovery quite meaningful.”
The Archon leaned forward and tented his fingers before his lips. Without a word, he nodded toward Cal.
“When I last stood before the council, it was with a dog by my side. That dog was the first of ten test subjects, each receiving a permanent augmentation of increased size.”
Cal turned toward Lyra, his intense eyes meeting hers. She gave him a slight nod, which he returned before turning toward the dais.
“For days, the test subjects exhibited no side effects. However, after two weeks passed, the first dogs began to change. Their coats began to grow darker, their hair soon becoming black. Within days, the others began to exhibit similar transformations.”
“Their hair turned black?” Victor blurted, leaning forward in his chair. “Why are you bothering us with such a pointless issue?”
Cal frowned and stared at Victor. The man appeared to wilt under Cal’s glare, recoiling into his throne, his eyes flicking about the room, seeking a place to hide. The archon saved him.
“Please continue.”
Cal gave a brief nod and resumed. “Unfortunately, the dogs’ hair turning black was not the only side effect. Two days ago, we found the first two dogs hiding inside our shed, unwilling to venture into the sunlight. Their eyes had changed…”
As Cal recited his tale, the image of Gilo’s glowing red eyes appeared within Lyra’s mind, triggering memories of the previous evening.
A thump had startled Lyra, waking her. She sat up and stared at the covered window, hearing a clicking and scraping sound coming from it. Quietly sliding out of bed, she gripped the corner of her drapes and pulled them aside. Snarls and angry barking made her scream and jump backward. She scrambled over her bed and stared at the window, at glowing red eyes glaring at her. A paw thumped against the glass and Lyra drew in a gasp. Leaning forward with her arm extended, she grabbed the sheath hanging from her bedpost and drew her dagger. The paw thumped against the window again, and the glass shattered, scattering shards across the room.
The beastly dog snarled and barked again, its booming voice making Lyra jump with a start. The door beside her burst open and a bright white light filled the room. The beast at her window squinted and yelped as it backed away. Cal nodded to Lyra as he held the light above his head.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, still holding her knife toward the window, her heart racing.
Cal then climbed over her bed and held the light through the window. Beyond him, the giant black dogs milled about the yard, seeking a refuge from the light. Moments later, they were gone, and Cal turned toward Lyra with a worried frown.
“This has gone too far. I must destroy them before someone gets hurt or killed.”
“Why did they run? How did you know?”
“Since Gilo and Striah’s eyes changed, they’ve been hiding in the shed. Today, the others began to do the same. I believe the sunlight hurts them.” Cal held the bright light toward Lyra. “This is the closest thing to sunlight I have.”
Unable to look directly at the bright light, Lyra’s gaze shifted toward the floor, and she noticed bloody footprints among the glass.
“Your feet, Cal.”
He looked down and nodded. “Right. I should get them cleaned up.”
She followed him and his crimson footprints to the bathing room. After helping him remove the glass and wash the cuts, she cut strips of cloth to use as bandages.
As she began to apply the first bandage, she paused. “Why don’t you heal yourself? You know. Like you healed me when I fell into the pit.”
Cal shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that. I can heal others, but I can’t heal myself. We have to go to the city tomorrow and inform the Council about what happened here. While I’m there, I’ll stop by the temple and visit a healer. It’ll be a painful trip until then.”
Lyra nodded as she finished bandaging his foot. She moved on to the other foot and he spoke again.
“I needed to head to the city anyway. I need to visit the smith, the carpenter, and the gilder to check on their progress. I fear we have little time left before it happens.”
Lyra shook her head, clearing it to focus on the present, on the story Cal was reciting.
“…and when we woke the next morning, the gate was destroyed and the dogs were missing. All of them. I would track them down and destroy them if I knew how. As it stands, I fear that I’ve unleashed a pack of monsters that will threaten the safety of innocent people. I just pray to Issal that nobody dies because of me.”
The Council members stared at him in silent response.
“Given the dire nature of my message, I implore you to refrain from conducting permanent augmentations on living beings.” Cal held his hands out, palms facing up. “These friendly dogs changed as a result of the energy trapped within them. It appears that the augmentation made them hostile – drove them insane. We must proceed with caution to determine if there is a safer means.”
After another silent moment, the Archon replied. “We will take your words under advisement. However, this requires further discussion. We must weigh the potential value of permanent augmentations against the risk you have outlined.”
14
Cal held the door open for Lyra, glancing back one last time before slamming it shut. The guard stationed beside the door jumped at the sound, his eyes wide. Cal ignored the man and grabbed Lyra’s arm as he led her across the hall.
“Arrogant idiots,” he grumbled.
“They aren’t going to listen to your warning, are they?”
He shook his head, clearly appearing unhappy. “They’re hiding something. This has to do with my vision. I know it.”
Opening the door, he led her outside and across the quiet courtyard.
“Where is everybody?”
Cal stopped and looked at her. “What did you say?”
“Where are all the people? Last time we were here, this place was busy. I’m not just talking about the Citadel. The streets are quiet too.”
She stared into his eyes as he stared into space.
After a moment, he slowly nodded. “You’re right. People missing is part of whatever it is.”
He led her across the courtyard, around the main building and toward one of the completed towers. Lyra glanced up at the cylindrical building as Cal approached the door, the sensation leaving her a bit dizzy.
“What are we doing here?”
“We’re paying someone a visit.” He paused before the door. “Remember our earlier discussion about you playing?”
Lyra put her hand on the strap of her lute and nodded.
“Good.” He smiled. “I’m looking forward to hearing your magical voice again.”
His knock on the door echoed within the tower, the large building sounding hollow. After a moment, Lyra heard shuffling within, and the door opened to reveal a familiar face wearing a grimace.
“Hello, Elias,” Cal said in a pleasant voice. “I’m here to share something new with you. May we come in?”
Elias stared at Cal in consideration. Lyra could almost hear the m
an’s mind working as he weighed the request. Finally, he nodded and stepped aside with the door held open. Cal stepped past him with Lyra following close behind.
The interior revealed a singular room with a rounded stairwell hugging one wall. Desks, tables, and chairs occupied a space that was otherwise empty. Elias closed the door and crossed the room before leading them up the stairs.
Upon reaching the next level, Lyra found a similar stairwell rising to floors above. Rather than continue upward, Elias turned into what appeared to be a large kitchen. Sections of shelving filled with food lined the walls at each side of the room, split by an arched fireplace and a brick oven. Two long tables waited at the center of the room, each table lined with benches big enough to seat six people.
Elias crossed the room to the stove, donned leather gloves, and removed a hot kettle. He turned toward Cal and Lyra.
“Would you care for some tea?”
“Yes. Thank you,” Cal replied.
“Um. None for me,” Lyra mumbled.
Elias shrugged and poured some of the hot brew into two small cups with handles. He replaced the kettle, removed the gloves, and brought the cups to one of the tables.
“Please. Have a seat.” Elias nodded, setting down the steaming cups before settling on a bench.
Cal sat opposite from Elias while Lyra remained standing at the far end of the long table.
“I just informed the Council of dire news.”
“Oh?” Elias asked, sipping his tea.
“My dogs have exhibited side effects from their augmentations. It appears that Infusion causes living beings to go mad, to become monsters.”
Elias’s eyes narrowed, the cup in the young man’s hand trembling slightly before he scoffed. “You’re joking.”
Cal shook his head. “This no joke, nor is it a lie. The dogs tried to kill us last night. If I hadn’t determined that light is painful to their transformed eyes, one or both of us,” he nodded toward Lyra, “might be dead.”
Cal set his cup down. “Unfortunately, the dogs broke my gate and escaped. The deaths of others will likely soon be on my hands because of them.”
During this exchange, Elias increasingly grew more pale, until it appeared he might be ill.
“But…” Elias stammered. “We’ve seen only positive results with Infusion. Other than a permanent augmentation being a fraction as effective as a temporary augmentation, the results have been steady and reliable.”
“What you speak is true for inanimate objects, not for living, breathing beings.” Cal shook his head. “Perhaps our life force, the very thing that makes infusing living things easier, also opens the door for the captive Chaos to break free and drives them mad.”
Elias remained quiet for a long moment before nodding. “I must think on this, consider the best path to take.” He appeared worried. “Do you have any ideas on how this might be cured? Do you know a safer approach?”
Cal shrugged. “I wish. At this point, I feel I must reconsider the entire effort. Perhaps there is a better way; perhaps it is best left alone.” He shook his head. “I just don’t know.”
Lyra shifted her feet, discomforted by Elias’ obvious distress at the information Cal shared.
“Elias, I don’t believe you’ve been properly introduced to my assistant.” Cal held his hand toward Lyra. “Tali, meet Grand Master Arcanist, Elias Firellus. Elias, meet Tali.”
Lyra’s brow raised. Grand Master Arcanist sounded like a high title, yet the man appeared no older than Cal. Lyra gave a small curtsy while Elias responded with a nod. The troubled expression remained on his face throughout the exchange.
“Tali happens to play the lute and has a wonderful voice.” Cal turned toward Lyra. “Tali, would you please play a little tune to help lift our spirits?”
Lyra nodded and her stomach fluttered as she pulled the lute strap over her head. Wiping the sweat from her palm on the side of her dress, she took a breath to calm her nerves. She wasn’t nervous about performing. That was easy. It was the magic that scared her.
A strum of the strings confirmed that they were still in tune, and a subsequent glance toward Cal caused her to notice him removing something from his pocket. He didn’t do anything with the item other than grip it within his closed fist. Lyra glanced down at the lute, placed her fingers on the frets, and began to play.
The song was even and flowing, neither sad nor a song that might be used for a dance. However, the music felt more compelling, the sound more expansive than anytime she had played before. Perhaps it was an effect of the round chamber. Perhaps it was something more. As she played, she found Cal staring at her. Their eyes met, and when he nodded, she began to sing.
What troubles you so? What is it you hide?
Open up your heart and in me, confide.
The truth of The Hand, share now with me,
For the truth, it shall set your guilt free.
Lyra stopped singing, but instead spoke to Elias as she continued to play.
“Your troubles weigh on you, Elias. Please, express them and let us share your burden.”
Elias nodded, his eyes staring into the distance, seeing something Lyra could not.
“It’s the augmentations we’ve been performing. So many. So, so many.”
Cal spoke. “Who, Elias? What augmentations?”
“We Arcanists. The army we are building for The Hand. An army of giants. Giants to be feared.”
Cal leaned forward “How many, Elias?”
Elias shrugged. “Over five-hundred, perhaps six-hundred. I lose count. The others are about the same.”
“Others?”
Elias nodded. “Yes. The eight of us.”
Cal’s eyes widened. “You each have performed augmentations on six hundred men?”
Elias nodded again.
“But how. You’d be exhausted after just one. Six hundred men would take many months.”
Elias shook his head. “We did this to ourselves first.”
The man pulled the front of his tunic down, revealing two runes etched into the skin of his pale chest.
Cal gasped. “Issal, spare us. Elias, what have you done?”
15
Shouts echoed outside the open window. Lyra finished drying the pot and set it on the shelf before tossing the damp towel atop the kitchen table. As she emerged from the courtyard, she found Cal unlocking the rebuilt gate.
The gate swung open to reveal two men standing beside a wagon. Lyra approached, curious. Visitors at the manor had proven to be a rarity. In three months, Grayson and his son had been the only others to appear within the compound – once when they filled and repaired the pit in the courtyard, and again when they came to repair the broken gate and Lyra’s broken window.
“Hello,” a tall, rough-looking man said. “Name is Derrel.” He thumbed toward the other man, who was younger and a bit leaner. “And this is Zeke. We’ve got sump’in in the wagon to deliver. We think this is the place.”
“That’s it, then?” Cal asked, nodding toward the cloth-covered object that filled the wagon bed.
“I guess. We picked ‘er up at the shop as ordered.” The man turned toward the wagon and rubbed the stubble on his weathered face. “The artisan was quite particular ‘bout how we loaded it, too. I don’t know how something so heavy can be breakable, but the man forced us to swear we’d treat it with care. Even had to stack blankets between it and the wagon bed.”
Derrel shook his head while his companion circled to the back of the wagon.
Excitement shone within Cal’s eyes as he rubbed his hands together. “Alright, then. Let’s get it unloaded and into the house.”
Derrel nodded, and he helped his companion remove the wagon’s rear panel. Zeke climbed into the wagon bed to grab one end of the object, while Derrel grabbed ahold of the other end. With a grunt, the men lifted the massive item and hauled it out of the wagon. Lyra retreated from the entrance to allow them room as Cal held the gate open. The men passed by and carried their deli
very into the courtyard with Cal following close behind.
The men entered the courtyard and stopped. Derrel eyed the door to the house, then the object, before shaking his head.
“Ain’t gonna fit,” he mumbled.
“You’re right,” Cal agreed. “Just set it down here, and I’ll figure something out.”
The man shrugged and set the edge of the object on the stone tiles before Zeke tipped it until it stood upright. Derrel placed one hand at the small of his back, arching it as he groaned.
“Is that it?” Cal asked. “Wasn’t there another item?”
“Oh, yeah,” Zeke said. “I’ll grab it.”
The man passed through the open gate and returned to the wagon. He lifted the wagon seat and dug underneath to remove another cloth-covered object, long and narrow in shape. As the man returned, Lyra stared at the cloth, attempting to discern what was wrapped inside.
Zeke handed the item to Cal, who accepted it with a grin.
“Well, if you have nothing else for us,” Derrel said. “We had best be on our way.”
“Oh, right!” Cal dug into his pocket and fished out two gold coins. Hunger shone within the men’s eyes at the sight of gold, their grins widening as Cal set one coin into each of their palms.
“The man said that you paid well,” Derrel said. “Thank you, sir.”
The two men exited the courtyard and headed toward the gate with Derrel patting Zeke on the back. Lyra followed them and closed the gate before securing it with the bar. She returned to the courtyard to find Cal unwrapping the cloth from the object he held in his hands.
The gray sheet fell away to reveal a hilt poking from a black leather-bound scabbard. Cal gripped the hilt and slid the sword free, emitting the unmistakable sound of a blade being drawn. With a metal blade polished to a mirror-like finish, the honed edges gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. Lyra recognized the louvres stamped within the blade from the sketch Cal had created nearly a month earlier. Between the louvres and the hilt, she noticed a symbol was carved into the blade.
“Do you even know how to use a sword?”
Rogue Legacy: The Secret History of Issalia Page 9