by Clayton Wood
“You mean, have a runic that had hundreds of random sensory runes, and expose the runic to multitudes of animals and plants, and see if any of the sensory runes are triggered?” Banar asked. Kyle nodded.
“That way, you would know what pattern they were using,” Kyle replied. “You could do that for hundreds of animals and plants, and learn tons of new patterns.”
“Interesting,” Master Banar murmured. But Master Owens frowned.
“I don't know,” he interjected. “There are so many different possible patterns, it could take millions of guesses to find one that matched.”
“True,” Master Banar admitted.
“Well what if you use parts of sensory runes?” Kyle pressed. “Wouldn't they still light up if something wove part of a pattern? Then you could put them together afterward.”
Banar frowned, glancing at Master Owens.
“I don't understand,” he replied. “What do you mean?” But Master Owens cleared his throat.
“We really should get back to our lesson,” he stated. Master Banar nodded.
“Right,” he agreed. He turned to Kyle. “Good thinking, Kyle,” he stated. “You might be on to something.”
“It is a novel idea,” Master Owens admitted. “Well done, Kyle,” he added, gazing approvingly at his former student. Kyle felt his cheeks flush.
“Well, I don't know,” Kyle replied sheepishly, glancing at Ariana. She was staring at him, a strange smile on her lips. Kyle felt a swell of pride, a giddy sensation he'd never quite experienced before. He knew immediately that the idea would work. Why it hadn't occurred to someone else, Kyle couldn't fathom. It was so obvious, now that he thought about it!
“Let's go back to the Tower,” Banar stated, turning to Kyle. “I think I know what you meant by using parts of runes,” he added rather excitedly. “We need to tell Grand Runic Erasmus about your idea!”
“Wait, you really think it'll work?” Kyle asked, suddenly doubting himself. What if Master Owens was right, and his idea ended up not being all that useful? Or worse, what if it didn't work at all? Kyle was flattered by Master Banar's confidence in him, but he didn't want to have to suffer the shame of discovering that he wasn't as great as everyone thought he was. Again.
“There's only one way to find out,” Banar answered. “Let's go back to the Tower.”
“Don't forget the Aegis,” Ariana reminded, pointing to Kyle's chest. He glanced down, seeing his white shirt, and realized he'd forgotten to put on his silver armor – the Aegis of Athanasia – this morning. If Kalibar ever found out, he'd be furious. Kyle nodded, giving Ariana a grateful smile.
“Thanks, I will,” he replied. Then he felt Master Banar tugging on his arm. Banar was already levitating a foot above the ground. Kyle activated his own gravity boots, quickly rising through the air – to Ariana's obvious delight – and flying after his instructor. Kyle waved as he flew upward, turning and catching up with his new teacher, who'd sped a few dozen feet ahead, his white cloak rippling in the wind. Kyle accelerated to catch up with his instructor, the wind blowing through his hair, sending a chill through him. The morning was early still, the sun having yet to bake the earth with its warming rays. He ignored the cold, concentrating on following behind Master Banar. Within minutes, they'd left Ariana and Master Owens far behind, the Tower only a mile or so ahead.
Suddenly, Kyle heard a deafening boom, and felt something slam into him, making him lurch to the side. The world spun crazily around him, and he cried out, flailing his arms. The awful sensation of free-fall gripped his gut, and screamed as he saw the ground rising up toward him at breakneck speed. He closed his eyes at the last minute, feeling a terrible pain as his shoulder slammed into something hard, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Then he was rolling madly through something cold and wet, until at last he came to a stop, lying on his back.
He lay where he was, gasping for air.
A shrill wailing noise assaulted his ears, a sound that was instantly recognizable. It was the same sound Kyle had heard when Rivin and Bartholos had been murdered. And when Kalibar had been nearly assassinated.
Kyle rolled onto his side, realizing that he was lying on cool, wet grass. He tried to roll onto his left side, but a sharp pain lanced through his shoulder, and he cried out, flopping onto his back. He laid there for a moment, struggling to catch his breath. After a few seconds, he tried to roll again, this time onto his right side. He saw a figure in white roll into his field of field.
It was Master Banar!
The Runic tumbled across through the grass, coming to a stop a dozen feet from Kyle. Banar groaned, then rolled onto his stomach, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees. His eyes focused on Kyle, and Banar reached out toward him. Then something slammed into the Runic's back, shoving the man's belly violently onto the ground.
It was a boot. A black boot.
Master Banar yelled out in pain, a shimmering gravity shield erupting around him. Then it vanished as quickly as it had appeared; the boot on his back hadn't even budged.
“Hello, Kyle,” a deep, resonant voice murmured.
Master Banar struggled to push himself up against the weight on his back, the veins on his forehead bulging with the effort. Then something slammed into the back of his head, burying his face into the grass.
Blood welled up around a long, metallic shaft embedded through the back of the Runic's skull.
Master Banar's arms jerked once, then again, and then he lay perfectly still in the dew-tipped grass. The boot on his back lifted up, then stayed in the air, hovering an inch above the ground. Another boot came into view, also floating above the grass. A corner of black fabric rippled sinuously in the still morning air, ornate gray symbols woven into it.
Kyle felt terror grip him, choking the air from his lungs. His gaze went upward, despite every fiber of his being screaming for him to look away. Goosebumps rose over every inch of his body, a cold sweat pouring down his arms and dripping down his flanks. Still, his gaze went upward. Two black boots, and then black pants. A black shirt, with an endlessly rippling cloak wrapped around it.
Master Banar's head jerked upward as the long, metal pole impaling it was pulled free, the sharpened end crimson with blood. Kyle followed the length of the pole, seeing the pale hand that gripped it. He saw a pale face, black eyes sunken deep within its skull, a thick, knotted scar on its left temple. Short black hair. And in the center of the forehead, a lone, shimmering, diamond-shaped green crystal.
Kyle tried to scream, but nothing came out.
“I warned you about defying me,” the Dead Man said, his low, smooth voice sending chills down Kyle's spine. Then his pale lips twisted into a smile. “But I forgive you.”
Kyle felt something wet and sticky press against the back of his neck, and then darkness took him.
Chapter 10
Kalibar stared out of the glass windows of his suite, at the ant-sized people swarming through the streets around the site of the attack. Where the bank had once stood, regal and imposing, there was only rubble now. The response to the disaster had been nothing short of amazing. It had been less than a half-hour, and already his Weavers had removed the majority of the debris, using large gravity spheres to suck in tons of stone at a time, then sending the debris-laden spheres beyond the city limits. Runics had already placed wards around the site, preventing passers-by from looting, and from interfering with the cleanup process.
Kalibar lowered his gaze to his feet. Combined with the prison break earlier that morning, he'd thought that the attack on the bank would've caused a near-panic within the city. In fact, the exact opposite had happened; people from all over the city had responded to the blast. Doctors had immediately set up tents to treat victims, sending the sickest to the surrounding hospitals. Others had organized crews to help find victims stuck in the rubble. Surrounding grocers had offered to bring food and water to help the relief crews stay nourished. The governor himself had just returned from giving a speech a few blocks from the site
, praising the efforts of the people. It had been enormously gratifying to know that, far from resulting in terror, the strike against Stridon had brought its people closer together.
Still, Kalibar knew that his citizens would demand answers as to who had done this...and whether or not their government would protect them from another attack. He'd wanted to travel to the site to give a speech addressing these concerns, but his elite guard had cautioned against it out of concern for his safety. Speculation abounded on whether some of the escaped prisoners from the jailbreak earlier – many of them powerful Weavers themselves – were responsible for destroying the bank. Kalibar didn't particularly care; he assumed that Xanos was behind both events, regardless of the specifics. It was a classic strategy when laying siege to an enemy; promote chaos, induce panic, reduce morale. Make the populace question the effectiveness of their elected officials. Make them feel unsafe. It hadn't worked this time, but after enough attacks, the will of the people would break.
Terror, Kalibar knew all too well, was a very effective weapon.
A knock came at his door. Kalibar pushed aside his annoyance at the interruption, walking up to the magical door guarding the entrance, seeing one of his Battle-Weavers standing on the other side. Kalibar activated the door, making it translucent for the Weaver.
“Your excellency,” the Weaver greeted, bowing stiffly. “Grand Runic Erasmus requests an audience with you in the Runic Archives.”
Kalibar nodded, opening the door and allowing himself to be led down the hallway to the riser. This brought them swiftly to the 32nd floor. where the Runic Archives was located. It represented the largest repository of magical artifacts in the Empire. Surprisingly, many of these artifacts had been found on one small island hundreds of miles west of Stridon...an island that was responsible for the recent renaissance in runic technology, and the international dominance of the Empire.
No one knew the Archives better than Erasmus, who had, until recently, been the Head Archivist for the Secula Magna. He'd stepped down after beginning his second term as Grand Runic, but everyone assumed that Erasmus would resume being Head Archivist after his term ended...if he lived that long.
In addition to the Archives, there was the Testing Chamber...a room designed for testing both Ancient runic artifacts and new runic inventions. The Testing Chamber had powerful magical shields on every surface – walls, floor, and ceiling – and an attached viewing room that allowed for remote activation of the runic item being tested. The room had been designed that way after more than one Runic had been blown to bits experimenting with Ancient runic relics.
And, quite appropriately, that was where Erasmus's most skilled Runics had attempted to decode Kyle's ring.
When the riser stopped, Kalibar and his Battle-Weaver escort walked to the front door of the Archives. Erasmus was there, standing just outside of the door. When he saw Kalibar, he rushed forward, grabbing Kalibar by the arm.
“I need to show you something,” Erasmus urged.
“What's wrong?” Kalibar asked. Erasmus said nothing, but opened the door to the Runic Archives, pulling Kalibar inside. Kalibar, wearing his eyepatches, continued the act of being blind, allowing Erasmus to guide him into the room. It was truly massive, with dozens of rows of shelving standing several stories tall, each stuffed to the brim with thousands of magical artifacts. To one side of Archives was a door that opened to reveal a long hallway, at the end of which was the Testing Chamber; that's where Erasmus led Kalibar. The chamber was thirty feet long, thirty feet wide, and had ceilings 30 feet tall. The walls were a light blue color to Kalibar, due to his newfound ability to see magic in the shields protecting the walls. They were, in actuality, stark white.
Erasmus led Kalibar toward the center of the chamber, to a small white table there. On top of the table, Kalibar saw a familiar object: Kyle's ring.
“We've done it,” Erasmus stated, his tone oddly neutral. Kalibar frowned.
“Done what?” he asked. Erasmus gestured to the ring.
“We've decoded Kyle's ring.”
“You did it?” Kalibar asked, taken aback. Erasmus gave a slight smirk.
“The three dozen Runics may have helped,” he replied wryly. “I've had them working three rotating shifts around the clock. Each was assigned a few runes to decode.” He gestured to the white table; next to the ring sat a long, rectangular crystal with dozens of runes inscribed onto its surface. “After they decoded the runes, I had them copy the runes in the proper sequence onto that crystal slab.”
“That's a pretty big slab,” Kalibar noted. It was true; the ring was dwarfed by the two-foot-long crystalline block beside it.
“Yeah, well the runes on that ring were so small we couldn't see them without using a series of magnifying lenses,” Erasmus replied. “Never mind tracking the connections between runes...they were inscribed in three dimensions inside main crystal. We laid them out in straight lines – all two hundred of them.”
“Two hundred?” Kalibar exclaimed. His magical staff – the latest in modern runic technology – was nearly six feet long, and carried a similar number of runes. The center gemstone of Kyle's ring was two carats, at most. To think that all of those runes could be packed into such a small area...it gave him goosebumps. The Ancients had truly been masters of runic technology...and Ampir had stood head and shoulders above them.
“Tell me about it,” Erasmus muttered. “In any case, if I trigger the sensory rune on our runic copy over here,” he stated, walking up to the rectangular crystal, “...it'll reproduce the functionality of Kyle's ring.”
“You've already done it,” Kalibar guessed. Erasmus nodded, but to Kalibar's surprise, his friend's expression was hardly joyous. Kalibar's brow furrowed. “What's wrong?”
“See for yourself,” Erasmus answered. He closed his eyes for a moment, and re-opened them. “There,” he stated.
“There what?” Kalibar asked. “Nothing happened.”
“Exactly what we thought...at first,” Erasmus agreed. “But I assure you that it is doing something. We were about to give up on guessing what that something was until one of our brighter Runics noticed that the last rune in the activation sequence doesn't code for any magic effect at all.”
“What?”
“You know how password runes are just sensory runes with a particular shape? And if you weave that shape, it will activate the sensory rune?” he asked. Kalibar nodded. “Well,” Erasmus continued, “...it turns out that the last rune in the sequence is meant to send a password to a sensory rune far away.”
“Wait, so the ring just transmits a message?” Kalibar asked. “Surely it does more than that!”
“Afraid not,” Erasmus replied. “Other than a few runes to protect the ring from being destroyed, that's all it does.”
“Impossible!” he exclaimed. He stared at the ring on the table, then turned his gaze back to Erasmus. “You're sure?”
“As sure as I can be,” Erasmus replied. Then he gave a rueful smile. “You know, I didn't remember it until now, but Xanos himself had called the ring a...what was it?”
“A glorified transmitter,” Kalibar recalled. He'd completely forgotten about that as well. “He knew it all along,” he realized.
“That's right,” Erasmus stated. “And you know what really terrifies me? That Xanos figured that out in seconds, and it took almost forty of my best Runics over a week to confirm it.”
They both stood there silently for a long moment, staring at the ring laying in the center of the white table. Finally, Erasmus looked up at Kalibar, rubbing a hand over his shiny, bald head.
“So this brings up the obvious question,” Erasmus said. Kalibar nodded, tapping his goatee with one finger.
“Right,” he replied. “If the ring is a glorified transmitter, then what's been protecting Kyle – and all of us – all this time?”
“My thought exactly,” Erasmus agreed. Kalibar stared at Kyle's ring, the center gemstone glittering a faint yellow-blue in the harsh light
of the magical lanterns bolted to the walls. He idly remembered that it had been pure yellow before he got his new eyes; now it had a yellow center, with a light blue tint at the edges. He shook his head slowly, considering the ramifications. If the ring was just a transmitter, then it couldn't have protected Kyle from anything...and it couldn't have teleported Kyle to this world.
A glorified transmitter, he mused. So who is the ring transmitting to?
He turned away from the ring, staring at nothing in particular.
“I need time to think,” he muttered.
* * *
Kalibar sat down on his bed, staring at the spot where the assassin who'd tried to murder him yesterday had lain. The body had finally been moved a half hour ago, the forensic evidence collected. Not that there had been any evidence to collect, other than the body. It had been a clean kill, with no damage at all to the surrounding furniture. Not a bloodstain on the carpet, or on Kalibar's bedsheets. The assassin's body and head had been transferred to the Royal Medical Examiner's office, where a careful autopsy would be performed.
He glanced at the full glass of greenish liquid on his nightstand. It was the narcotic drink Jenkins had prepared for him – and that Kalibar had declined – since he'd become Grand Weaver. If he hadn't needed the pain-killing drink before, he certainly didn't need it now.
Kalibar shook his head, realizing he was woolgathering. He'd come up to his room to get away for a while, to strategize, but his meeting with Erasmus had shaken him.
He sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily. Ever since he'd met Kyle, Kalibar had wondered how the boy had been transported here. At first, he hadn't really believed that Kyle was from another planet. Such an idea had seemed preposterous, laughable. But then he'd seen Kyle's timepiece...the “watch” with such amazing technology, such minute, perfect craftsmanship, powered by a mysterious, non-magical energy...it had convinced him that Kyle was for real.
An alien from another planet.