by B J Hanlon
Edin tried clenching his muscles and felt them working. He was sure he’d be able to move if he wanted. But not a lot.
“Another…” Pharont shouted. “I want to know where he got the Shimmer Stone.”
“We only brought one bucket,” a man said.
“Then wake him by other means,” he growled. “No need to be gentle to this traitor.”
He was kicked, at least Edin thought it was a kick. Edin clenched his fist, digging his nails into his palms. Another strike, then another. He stifled a cry of pain as someone slapped him across the face.
The strikes stopped. “He has to be awake… or he’s in a coma.”
He felt another kick to his thigh. It was much softer than the rest and felt like a fly in comparison but he didn’t move.
“Let me know when he wakes,” Pharont huffed. A door slammed and it was quiet.
Edin still didn’t move. His body throbbed from his feet to his enlarged skull. A leaf, or fifty, of meadowcat would be helpful he thought but remained quiet.
“You’re awake aren’t you?” A voice said in a soft and calming tone. “He’s gone now.”
Edin still said nothing.
“You know what you did right? The mist surrounding us… it’s gone.”
Edin opened his eyes. The guard was Placisus and he was sitting in a chair next to a thick door. On the table next to him was a lantern.
“Le Fie?” Edin croaked out.
“Dead they say… bled from the brain.”
Edin closed his eyes, clenched his jaw, pushed himself up and leaned against the wall. He felt bones rubbing together in his chest. “What did they do to that man?”
“What man?”
“Edin Harlscot.”
“How do you know that name?” The guard looked shocked, confused and maybe even… scared?
Edin paused when he stared into Placisus’ eyes. “He was the old man next to me on the floor…”
“Edin Harlscot has been dead for almost a thousand years…”
“No, he was there.”
“You hit your head.” Placisus said shaking his own.
While that was definitely true, according to the massive headache, he had seen him. He remembered that clearly. The spell or curse being cast on him. The man was alive and when he came out of the tornado, he lived…
The words rang in his mind like a bell calling for prayer. Then the vision of the dead land came back to him floating out from the shadow.
The guard captain was talking again, “they said you broke the spell that protected the isles.” Placisus said. “You did Pharont a favor. I know you didn’t mean to but I’m certain Pharont is happy how things turned out. He’ll never admit it though, but you gave him the need to assemble the army… which he has.”
“So there will be war… and I started it.”
Placisus said nothing.
“And me?”
“You’ll be tried and you’ll be found guilty and sentenced to death. Not even your woman can save you now.”
Edin’s mouth dropped for a moment. Just a moment, he did what Le Fie wanted, he was part of the Darsol Rose and now the leader of that group was dead and now there would be war… more war.
Somehow, he knew it had already started. “When is the trial?”
“When you wake… they’ll probably push it out a day or so.”
“The magi on the other level… what were they doing?”
Placisus raised an eyebrow. “What magi?”
“There were four… chanting gave me visions, nightmares… one was called Veclan.”
Placisus stood quickly and rushed toward Edin causing him to flinch. “What do you mean? We found no magi…”
“Le Fie and I…” he remembered his lightning arc striking them. His third talent. “Never mind.”
“I’ve had reports… people with crazy nightmare, people with the premonition of an invasion by mundanes... A lot of people and too many coincidences. What happened?”
“I don’t know…” Edin said.
Placisus eyed Edin up and down then moved back toward his chair. “I’ll let them know you’re awake.”
Edin stood, bones creaked and he was certain he had a cracked rib or two. Blood rolled down his nose and dripped to the pallet he was on.
“When will the next assassin come?”
“No need I suppose…” He turned and left the room.
Edin heard the clicking of the lock and sat.
A short while later, a guard came in with a tray. He saw a plate of food, no utensils and a pitcher of water.
Edin ate, which was difficult since swallowing hurt, though even breathing produced its own pain. He sat quietly for hours, leaning his head into the crook of walls trying to remember… if that was the right word, the rest of the poem. The west rises in dark… not dark, darkness.
“The west rises in darkness.” He whispered then thumped the heel of his palm on his forehead. “Think… think…” Edin dipped his head between his knees.
Edin heard the latch open and saw the door swinging outward.
A person appeared, clad in a long dark robe wearing a hood. A broson.
Soft hands came up and the hood was pulled back. It was Arianne. She didn’t look at him, though he saw her eyes were stained red.
“How could you Edin?” Her voice quivered with her jaw. “My people, all of them are now under threat from the mundane world.”
Edin said nothing. What could he say?
“You’re a harbinger of destruction. Do you know what that is? Every time you’re around, everything you touch is destroyed. I’m shocked I’m still alive… though I don’t know for how long. Soon your curse will catch me and the last hope for the magi…” She stopped, looked down at him, her face wet with tears.
“When we arrived, I just wanted to be with you… but there were implications made that you were to be destroyed unless…” she sniffled. “Unless I agreed to marry that man. They said you would bring ruin to the isle and all we stood for. But I loved you anyways and would’ve done anything to keep you safe. Now because of my feelings, because of my heart, this place, all that I love will be destroyed.” She paused, took a deep breath and straightened up. “I will not see you again Edin. Goodbye.”
“I’m sorry…” was all he could say.
She had loved him, now she didn’t.
Something came to his head like a bird dropping. The west rises in darkness, The land will cover of shade.
12
The Trial of Edin de Yaultan
Two days later, two pain-filled days later he was taken from his cell. The cell was a room deep within the castle, maybe even in the mountain and all the corridors around seemed abandoned.
Placisus slapped wan-stone imbedded shackles and leg-irons on him and these forced him to take short steps. The chains rattled at every step like a wind chime of bones.
The guards, under Placisus’ watch, were gingerly pushing him up stairs, around bends and corners until they reached a dark door. Beyond it, he heard murmuring voices like the crowd before wintertide games.
Three loud bangs echoed and the murmurs stopped. A moment later, the door opened.
Edin stepped through the portal into the agora. He was to the left of the lectern where he’d stood months ago.
He saw spectators lining the benches and a group of eleven men, the Praesidium he guessed, at the bench. Mersett was absent.
“Over there.” One of the guards said and led him toward a chair next to the lectern. He uncuffed the leg irons so Edin could climb the platform.
As Edin sat, he was chained again, this time through an O-ring on the chair. The man continued, locking him in place until he could not move except to lean forward. He did this and itched his nose, more to check for movement than for any other reason. What did they think he’d somehow escape and kill many magi?
A gavel slammed on the judge’s bench, for that’s what it was now in Edin’s mind. He looked directly at Pharont who seemed to have g
rown. His head, shoulders and arms were now at least half a foot taller than the rest of the Praesidium. No longer the First Among Equals… he was something more.
Pharont started speaking. “I offer Edin de Yaultan, born of Laural de Yaultan and Rihkar Harlscot. A boy who had been searching for a sanctuary, a place where magi can live in peace.” The final murmurings from the crowd stopped.
“The magnanimous gift of life we offered him wasn’t enough. He was given a job, a home, and food. A life free of suffering and worry. Was this good enough for him? No. Not for one of Rihkar’s blood. He, like his father before him is a traitor. A spy for the Por Fen and the usurpers on the mainland. He has willfully and with full knowledge released the spell that kept us hidden from those who’d wish to destroy us… our way of life. He even murdered my dear nephew Iashah.”
It took him a moment to realize that he was speaking of Le Fie. “I did not…”
“Silence.” The gavel smacked down again louder like a cracking of thunder through the air. “As the Premier of the isles, I have been given the grave responsibility to decide the fate of this traitor. It is known…”
“This is a trial… not a sentencing,” A voice said from the behind Edin. It was Mersett’s.
Edin craned his neck and saw the man seated in the front row next to Dorset and Cannopina. Dorset gave him a quick nod and a smile.
Fior was there as well, next to Henny. Fior glaring, Henny was motionless and looking somewhere else.
“I have seen the evidence with my own eyes. The mists are gone, the spell has died.”
“The man…” Edin said. “The one in the tornado.”
Pharont grew red, he almost forgot to bang his gavel. Then he did. “This is not a conversation… you are hereby…”
“Master Pharont…” Mersett said standing and moving forward next to Edin. “This is illegal, as is your self-appointment of Premier. I may not be on the council anymore, but I do know our laws. You are breaking them.”
“The laws are antiquated. They do not apply when such extraordinary events as have taken place.”
“Are you making this up as you go? You’re not playing with those dolls in your chambers anymore. This is the real world.”
Snickers were heard around the room and Pharont grew redder, if it was possible. His head looked like a fat tomato seated on a black pumpkin.
“You are defending this traitor? Why? Was it you that sent him there to destroy our shield? Are you the real traitor to the islands and this… son of Rihkar is just the fool to follow?”
“No…” Edin said.
“I did with the help of Iashah,” Mersett said. “For it is my belief it is his destiny.”
“To destroy magi? That is his destiny?”
“To save everyone. The Prophecy of Ecta Mastrino...”
“There is no such prophecy, it is a rumor…”
“It was held by the one who protected us. We are told of a man who moves like a terrin… comes from the old kingdom...”
“Shut your mouth traitor.”
“By breaking the spell and releasing the one who was trapped for a millennia, he has shown he has the power.”
“Edin Harlscot,” Edin said.
“Quiet! There is no such thing as this supposed Ecta Mastrino. Even if there was, this boy is not him. I sentence him to death.”
A loud cry came from somewhere above. Edin tried looking, but the balcony was shielded by some sort of mesh screen.
“You have not yet tried him, nor have we discussed your four missing magi. Velcan, Lassial, Ellean, and Boore. Where are these men? Their families all said they went to work… of course they work directly for you?”
“I know of their whereabouts, it is a matter of island security that they remain secret. As the Premier…”
“Casting a terror spell on the island?” Mersett said. “I could feel it touch my brain. Subtle, but it worked. Everyone within a couple hundred yards of the tower tells me of it. They saw themselves and their families being murdered by an invasion of a mundane army.”
“Silence…”
“Edin what did you see?”
Edin wasn’t ready for the question. He cleared his throat, the image of Arianne dying brought a tear to his eye but he was left with one question. “Four magi casting the spell in the second level of the basement in the Boganthean Tower?”
Muttering came from around.
Pharont banged his gavel. “Lies… he is to be executed before any further falsehoods.”
Pharont’s neighbor leapt from his chair and stood, “Mersett, your accusations against the Premier are treasonous. I recommend your arrest and execution.”
People gasped again, someone yelled, “you will die first…”
“They were chanting in a circle above a green glowing rune. I saw fear… things that scared me but I fought through it. Then I stopped them.”
“How?” Belo said. He clearly wasn’t following Pharont’s guidelines.
“Enough.” Pharont yelled as he glared at his fellow councilor. Soon, Belo would be sitting down here next to Mersett.
“With the wan stone blade that Casitas’ man tried to stab me with earlier at the party.”
“Outrageous… I will not stand for it,” Pharont said. He stood so suddenly, the large chair behind him fell back and clattered to the ground. Pharont lifted a hand and Edin saw the sparks form.
“No!” A scream from above came.
A thick stream of yellow electricity flew from Pharont’s hand. It was strong and struck his chest.
His heart almost stopped as it hit. Edin screamed as the force knocked him backwards ripping the chair from the ground. Edin’s head snapped back and the chair fell from the stand and crashed into the stone floor.
He blinked, pain ravaging his already injured body. He heard wood exploding above his head. His mind, or eyes filled with a white light. There was silence.
Edin blinked, people were around him, people who were gone.
His mother, she looked at him and smiled, Kes bowed her head, Master Horston grinned. Were they ghosts? Were they coming to take him home?
Then they disappeared, burned away like the fog when the sun returns. Shrill and hysterical crying and screaming echoed around him. Feet were slamming the ground, padding and pounding their way around like the riot.
He opened his eyes and saw a nebulous cloud of smoke rising from his chest and could smell burnt hair and cloth. Around him, people cried out, some leapt from their seats and ran.
From his vantage, everything was upside down.
Pharont just tried to kill him, Edin thought. Someone dropped to a knee next to him. Edin blinked. “He lives.” Mersett said. “Help him up…”
“How can that be?” Placisus said as he grabbed Edin’s chair and helped lift it back upright. He took out a key and began at the locks around Edin.
“Out of my way Mersett…” Pharont screamed.
“No.” Mersett cried and stepped between them.
Edin heard lightning again and braced for the strike. It didn’t come. At least not at first. Edin saw Mersett take it in his palms like he was catching a ball. He held it for a few moments, then began to crumble.
The ground roared beneath them like a war cry and suddenly a large peak grew into the sky and pierced the roof of the agora. The lightning smashed into it causing sparks to fly off and strike the ceiling and other people.
Cries of pain echoed around the chamber. Lightning smashed into the balcony and a large chunk crashed onto a man’s head sending a spray of blood splatter around.
“Grab him,” Dorset yelled from about a few feet behind Edin. He was sweating, his arms were out as if he were pushing something. Another peak popped up, then another like a stone wall being erected before his eyes.
Placisus began to unshackle Edin. The man was slow and his hands shook, but his arms were free, then his leg.
The wan imbedded shackles were flung at the back wall striking some onlooker. Edin watched it and
nearly laughed. It was Rube and as he was hit, there was a loud thunk and he dropped into the stands.
Edin was slow on his feet. Steadying himself with the help of Placisus, Edin started up the stairs to the door.
Guards rushed in from the corridor outside nearly barreling them over. Placisus yelled something to them.
Moments later, they were on the steps of the agora. A large horse appeared in front of him and he was pulled up onto its back.
The rider, a man he didn’t know kicked the horse hard. The animal neighed and took off at a gallop down the road, each stride felt like a knife in his chest. Biting his tongue, he held on trying to think of anything but the pain.
He had no idea how long the flight was, they were on a rolling street that seemed to curve only slightly between tall condensed buildings. The rider jumped off and with the help of three other people, he was pulled into a building. His heart was racing and he felt like it was going to leap from his chest.
Inside, something was poured down his mouth, it was lemony with a hint of something else, a sweetness and slowly, he fell asleep.
Edin woke on a bed, barely able to get his eyes open. With the soft whispers of people talking somewhere around him.
“Mother?” Edin sputtered. His head warbled like he’d been on a ship in choppy seas. With the vicious pain in his chest.
“Here, drink this,” a woman, not his mother, said. The tea swirled in his mouth. The lemon tea again.
Edin opened his eyes and saw two women, Madame Caesum and one he’d never thought he’d see again. Laural the healer.
“You’re…”
“I’m here, and you’re lucky to be.”
“My…”
“Your chest will take time to heal. Caesum and I have been working all night.”
“Where am I?”
“Safe… now rest,” Laural said, she placed a wrinkled hand on his and gave it a small squeeze.
The tea put him out again and Edin slept, his mind wandered, drifting in and out of some dark room. He felt it before, knew the place. A dark version of the Praesidium chamber. A cold tingling rolled up his spine, Edin looked down and saw his glowing body stationed on a small circular stone pedestal.