by Clayton Wood
“I'm sorry,” the Weaver replied. “I just don't know. It must be someone important,” he added. “I've never seen Grand Runic Erasmus so distraught.”
“What?” Ariana blurted, bolting up out of her seat. “What did you say?”
“Grand Runic Erasmus,” the Battle-Weaver repeated, almost apologetically. “He was...weeping,” he added. “I've never seen him like that before.”
“What did he say?”
“He was overwrought,” the Weaver replied, shrugging helplessly. “I'm sorry, I don't know anything more,” he added. Ariana paused, then sat back down on the couch, closing her eyes. For some reason, all she could picture was Master Banar's corpse, lying on its stomach, a gaping hole in the back of the poor man's head. How Master Owens had reacted as they'd come upon the scene, how utterly pale her instructor had become.
She opened her eyes, staring at her kneecaps for a long moment. Then she glanced up at the Weaver facing her.
“What do we do now?” she asked.
“We wait,” the Weaver answered. Noting Ariana's incredulous expression, he shook his head. “We haven't found the assassin yet,” he explained. “Until we do, everyone is a potential target...including you.”
Ariana sighed. The man was right, of course. She just wished she knew what was going on. She needed to know that her loved ones were okay. Kyle had already been taken from her, as had Darius, apparently. Kalibar was the only one left, the only one who had been there with her in the Arena, who had helped her escape that hell. She couldn't bear the thought that she'd escaped at last, only to lose her second family the same way she'd lost her real parents.
For the first time since Kyle had been taken, Ariana felt tears welling up in her eyes, and she turned away, brushing them with the back of her hand. But still they came, and she broke down, thinking of that poor boy lost in some terrible prison, alone as she had been only a few weeks ago, wondering if anyone would ever find him. A sob escaped her lips, and she fought it back, her shoulders heaving up and down silently. She felt a warm hand on her back, and gave in, noisy, awful sobs escaping her. She hated the sound of them, the helplessness they conveyed. But try as she might, she couldn't hold them back any longer.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, followed by the sounds of boots clicking on the granite floor. Ariana looked up, hastily wiping the tears from her eyes, and saw Erasmus walking quickly toward her, a line of Battle-Weavers and elite guards in tow. The portly Grand Runic's expression was furious, his eyelids puffy. He stopped in the center of the room, turning about and facing a man dressed in white – one of the Councilmen, Ariana realized.
“So you just want to give up?” he shouted at the man. “Run with your tail between your legs?” The man's face paled, but he stood his ground.
“If they can get in his room, with all of his wards, and murder him in his sleep, what's to stop them from killing us all?” he retorted. Erasmus rolled his eyes.
“You've got to be kidding me,” he muttered. “It's all well and good when other people are dying, but the minute your lives are on the line, you fold!” He shook his head. “You're pathetic, you know that?”
“Calm down, Erasmus,” the Councilman pleaded. Erasmus spun on him.
“That's Grand Runic Erasmus to you,” he retorted. “Or have you forgotten your place here?” The Councilman raised his palms into the air, backing up a step.
“My apologies,” he stated, his face paling even further. “I'm just trying to tell you how we feel,” he added. Erasmus laughed bitterly.
“Oh yes, I know how you feel,” he shot back. “I also know that the first time your Grand Weaver was threatened by an assassin in his bedroom, he didn't act like a coward, begging for surrender!”
“That assassin died,” the Councilman countered. Erasmus shook his head.
“You and I both know it wouldn't have mattered,” he replied angrily. “You're nothing but cowards!” he spat. The Councilman's expression hardened.
“Don't accuse us of lacking patriotism,” he warned, his voice suddenly cold. “None of us has run off in the middle of the night. We're considering options here.”
“Consider a different one,” Erasmus shot back.
“Gentlemen!” a voice boomed, reverberating off of the walls. Everyone in the room started, then turned to face the front door. A tall man dressed in black silk pajamas entered the room, his short white hair mildly askew. His eyes were covered with double-eyepatches, his lips turned in a fierce frown.
“Kalibar!” Ariana blurted out, leaping off of the couch and sprinting toward the Grand Weaver. She jumped into his arms, tears flowing down her cheeks. “Kalibar!” she cried again, burying her face into his chest. “I thought...” she stopped then, choking up. She felt Kalibar wrap his arms about her, giving her a gentle squeeze.
“I'm fine,” he replied, pushing her back gently. “I'm afraid there's been a murder,” he added gravely.
“Who?” Ariana asked. She felt a little guilty knowing that, whoever it was, she would still feel glad that her adopted father was all right. Kalibar grimaced.
“Jax,” he answered, then sighed. “He was late for a morning meeting, so one of the Councilmen went to find him. He was still in his bed,” he added solemnly.
“You won't believe what Councilman Hewes was just suggesting to me,” Erasmus interrupted, pointing one finger at the younger Councilman in white. Kalibar reached out, lowering Erasmus's hand with his own.
“I can guess,” he replied calmly. He turned to face Hewes. “There will be a great deal of fear and sadness today,” he stated, “...and our initial reactions will not be our best. We must all give ourselves time to calm down, so we can plan the future rationally.”
Erasmus glared at Hewes, then turned away from the Councilman. “His first reaction says a lot about him,” he growled. Kalibar shook his head.
“I wasn't talking about him,” he chided gently. Erasmus blinked, then lowered his gaze to the floor. Kalibar sighed, putting a hand on Erasmus's shoulder. “I've seen war heroes that did the right thing the first time, and those that hesitated first,” he added. “Both deserved the title.”
“All right, all right,” Erasmus muttered. “What do you suggest we do?”
“Surrender is an option of last resort,” Kalibar answered, “...but we cannot leave it off of the table. Nor can we consider it until our doom is otherwise sure. We must investigate Jax's murder, determine who was involved. As tragic as his death is, I have reason to believe that our own deaths will not follow. But I, for one, am willing to give my life for my country,” he added firmly, his eyepatches locking on Councilman Hewes. The younger Runic lowered his own gaze, unable to face Kalibar's disapproval. Everyone knew that Kalibar had risked his life for the Empire – many times over – as a Battle-Weaver.
“As you say, Grand Weaver,” he murmured. Kalibar nodded briskly.
“Councilman, I want an emergency meeting of the Council, in the War Room, in ten minutes. We must elect a new Elder Councilman, and deal with the former's death.”
“Yes your Excellency,” Hewes replied, turning about and striding out of the front door. A few of the guards followed behind him. Erasmus watched him go, then turned to Kalibar.
“I still think...” he began, but Kalibar cut him off.
“Cowards by instinct,” he interjected, “...can yet be made into brave men. That,” he added, “...is the purpose of leadership.”
There was a knock on the front door, and Kalibar turned about, seeing a man in a simple gray shirt and pants standing outside of the door, carrying a large envelope in his arms. He recognized the uniform, if not the man; it was of the Medical Examiner's office. One of the elite guards glanced at Kalibar, who nodded. The guard opened the door, letting the man in.
“Your Excellencies,” the man stated, bowing deeply. Sweat glistened on his forehead, and he was breathing heavily. Erasmus frowned.
“What is it?” he asked.
“The pathology report
on the man who tried to assassinate you, Grand Weaver,” he answered, nodding at Kalibar. He offered Kalibar the large envelope, and Ariana watched as Kalibar opened it, pulling out a sheath of papers. Then he paused, handing the papers to Erasmus.
“Sometimes I still forget,” the Grand Weaver muttered, pointing to his eyepatches. Erasmus smirked, then glanced down at the papers. He scanned through the first page, then his eyes widened, his face turning very pale.
“Dear god,” he whispered, staring off into space. Then his eyes focused on Kalibar, and he shook his head mutely.
“What is it?” Kalibar asked. Erasmus glanced at the papers again, then put them back into the envelope, re-sealing it.
“We're in deep trouble,” Erasmus replied.
* * *
The eleven remaining members of the Council sat around the circular table in the War Room, with Kalibar and Erasmus in their customary positions. Where Jax had presided for over three decades, only an empty chair remained. Erasmus had debriefed the Council on Jax's murder, right down to the grisly details, his voice breaking more than once as he did so. Erasmus had been as close as any man could get to the aloof Jax, having had him as a mentor so many years ago.
“So this assassin,” Goran stated grimly, “...was able to unlock Jax's master-level door lock, built by Jax himself...perhaps the most skilled Runic in the Empire?” Councilman Goran asked. “And then deactivated all of his wards, and all of his personal defensive runics...in a single night?”
“That's correct, Kalibar confirmed. “The elite guard does daily checks of all wards and locks, and they were intact when Jax went to bed last night.” Councilman Ibicus, sitting beside Goran, shook his head.
“Well, if that's the case, what's to stop this assassin from coming into any one of our bedrooms, and killing us while we sleep?” he asked. Several other Councilman nodded in agreement.
“We're all sitting ducks,” Goran agreed. He turned to Kalibar then. “And we all know now that Kyle's ring won't protect us either.” he added coldly.
“We don't know much about Jax's assassin,” Erasmus admitted, showing remarkable restraint in not taking Goran's bait. “But we have learned more about Kalibar's.”
“Do tell,” Councilman Ibicus prompted. The man was hardly a fan of Erasmus, despite them both being Elitists, because he believed that the Grand Runic had allowed Kalibar to overshadow him in their first term. Ibicus was of the opinion that Kalibar's overt popularity over Erasmus had caused hundreds of potential Runic students to go into Weaving instead.
“We received the official medical examiner's report on the first assassin's autopsy right before this meeting,” Erasmus continued. He paused for a moment, glancing at Kalibar, then turning back to face the Council. “It was most revealing,” he added grimly.
“Paraphrase, if you will,” Ibicus replied.
“The assassin had been killed by decapitation, as well all know,” Erasmus stated. “Other than that, there were no other findings...except for one.”
“Spare the theatrics,” Goran grumbled. “What did they find?” Erasmus tossed the envelope with the medical examiner's report across the table at Goran.
“See for yourself,” Erasmus retorted. Goran grabbed the envelope, opening it up and taking out the sheath of papers within. He scanned the document, his eyes growing wider as he did.
“Dear god,” he gasped. Erasmus gave Goran a grim smile.
“That's what I said,” he replied. “Would you do the honor of...paraphrasing, Goran?” Goran looked up from the papers he held, then nodded.
“There was a green crystal embedded in the assassin's skull,” the Councilman revealed. “Nestled within the brain, just as with the late Grand Weaver Rivin.”
“What?” Councilman Ibicus exclaimed. “This assassin was one of these Chosen?”
“Apparently so,” Goran stated, handing the papers to Ibicus.
“How did we miss this?” Councilman Ibicus half-asked, half-demanded, scanning the papers for a moment, then shaking his head. “I ordered extensive background checks and physicals on every person living within these gates!” It was true, Kalibar knew; as the most senior Councilman other than Jax, Ibicus had been in charge of organizing and implementing the screening process for the entire Secula Magna. Ibicus's work had been exhaustive; no one could fault his efforts.
“The crystal,” Erasmus answered, “...was embedded so far into the assassin's brain that the base wasn't visible on the forehead.” He shook his head, rubbing one hand over his bald pate. “From what we can tell, the skin on his forehead had been peeled back, the crystal embedded through the skull, and then the skin was replaced over the wound...which sealed itself perfectly.”
“Barbaric,” Ibicus muttered.
“So this assassin,” Goran interjected, “...was able to summon Xanos at any time, with all of his power?” Erasmus nodded.
“I assume so,” he replied. “The crystal was identical to the one Rivin had. Unfortunately, it also self-destructed after the assassin was killed. But yes, we have to assume you're correct.”
“That's it,” Goran stated, standing up and throwing his arms up into the air. “It's over, gentlemen.”
“Hold on,” Kalibar countered. “Remember that my assassin was killed.”
“Jax's wasn't,” Goran shot back. “You insisted that we have faith in Kyle's ring, that we would be protected as you were, and what happened?” He jabbed a finger at Kalibar angrily. “You were wrong about Kyle's ring, you were wrong about our safety, your excursion to Crescent Isle failed, there are eighty powerful criminals loose in the city, our most prestigious bank is in ruins...” He lowered his hand, slamming both palms on the top of the table. “Xanos is making a mockery of this Empire!”
“I agree,” Ibicus concurred. “We're severely outclassed, gentlemen. But we've known that from the beginning...we all knew this was a losing war.”
“So what do you suggest?” Erasmus nearly shouted. “Surrender? Evacuation? Head for the hills and hope we're lucky enough not to be hunted down and killed one-by-one?”
“Hold on,” Councilman Mudd – a stalwart ally of Kalibar's – interjected, standing up slowly. He turned to Kalibar. “If Kyle's ring didn't kill this assassin, do we have any idea what...or who...did?”
Erasmus glanced at Kalibar, who grimaced, lowering his gaze to the well-polished tabletop. He had two options...reveal the mystery man who'd given him his sight, or say nothing. There was no way of knowing how the Council would react to the former...but at this point, the Council was near its breaking point. He had to do whatever it took to keep the Empire together.
Kalibar stood.
“Someone extraordinarily powerful,” he answered, leaning forward and placing his palms on the table. “Someone more powerful than any of you could ever imagine.”
“Like Kyle's ring?” Goran shot back snidely. Kalibar felt anger rise within him, and paused for a moment to let it fade. Councilman Ibicus leaned forward, his interest clearly piqued.
“Hold on Goran,” he admonished. “Let Kalibar talk.”
“Thank you Councilman,” Kalibar stated, nodding at Ibicus. “I have proof,” he added calmly. “I met him.”
“Are you saying you met your assassin's killer, and you've been keeping this information from the Council?” Goran pressed. Ibicus turned to glare at him.
“Let him explain, Goran,” he interjected sternly. Goran frowned at his ally, then nodded, folding his arms across his chest.
“It was only yesterday that I met him,” Kalibar explained. Then he recounted what had happened...him going to sleep, the paralysis, the enormous outpouring of magical power...and then the rapture. Goosebumps rose on his arms at the memory.
“That's all well and good,” Ibicus stated when Kalibar had finished, “...but it could have just been a dream.” Erasmus smirked, shaking his head.
“Doubtful,” he retorted. Kalibar sighed, taking his palms off of the table, then grabbing his eyepatches, one in each hand.
He peeled them off slowly, his eyes remaining closed, then tossed the eyepatches on the table.
Then he opened his eyes.
* * *
Councilman Ibicus burst upward from his chair, followed by Goran, Hewes, Mudd, and the rest of the Council. Their eyes went wide, their jaws dropping as they all stared into Kalibar's regenerated eyes.
“Impossible!” Goran breathed. Ibicus stared silently at Kalibar for a long moment, then got up out of his chair, walking to the Grand Weaver's side.
“May I?” he asked. Kalibar nodded, and Ibicus leaned in to stare at Kalibar's eyes. “You're saying this man gave you your eyes back?” he pressed. Kalibar nodded.
“He did,” he confirmed. “And I have every reason to believe that he was the one who protected me from the assassin...and who saved all of us from Xanos when he attacked the Tower.”
“Do we know anything else about this man?” Ibicus pressed, walking back to his own chair and sitting down. Kalibar shook his head.
“Not really,” he admitted. “Anything else is pure conjecture. But the point remains...we have a powerful ally, one that's already saved us, and the Empire, from certain death.”
“We have no proof of that,” Goran countered. “All we really know is that someone gave you your eyes back.” He held his palms out in front of him as Erasmus scowled. “That's a miracle, no one is denying it,” he added hastily, glancing at Ibicus. “I'm just saying that you can't prove this man was involved in anything else other than that.”
“I agree,” Ibicus stated. “After all, where was this mystery man when Jax was being murdered? Or when Master Banar was killed? Or when Kyle was kidnapped?” He shook his head. “He let that prison outbreak happen, and the destruction of the Central Bank. We can hardly count on him to save us.” Several of the other Councilmen nodded their agreement.
“So what would you suggest we do?” Erasmus asked Ibicus, pointedly ignoring Goran.
“We need to protect the government,” he answered. “First and foremost, we need to protect our Grand Weaver and Grand Runic...and those serving in the Council. I suggest that each member of the Council sleep in a secret location known only to that Council member and a select few others, and that these locations are changed on a nightly basis.”