Spells of the Curtain Volume One

by Tim Niederriter

  “Abide we must. Abide we must.” The grass couldn’t talk. He knew it couldn’t.

  Edmath staggered.

  “Abide we must,” he said.

  He had won. The blood weeping from his left hand splashed on the stones of the path. Ursar climbed to his feet off in the corner of Edmath’s vision. He approached Edmath. The sinister look he had worn during the fight was gone, and he offered his hand.

  “Calm down Saale Donroi. You just need a little help.”

  Edmath’s wounded hand touched the ground and another torrent of pain flowed up it. His world swam and he felt tears on his face. The cursed wounds sent waves of agony through him, burning and chilling him at the same time. His earlier dizziness grew and his vision went dark.

  The dreams Edmath had in his darkness were not pleasant, but full of pain and salt, heat and blood. As he woke, he tore from the sheets of his bed and slammed his head on his pillow gasping for air. He looked for his left hand. It was covered in white pads and canvas and leaf bandages. Red stains on its inside showed through. His throat was dry and he felt sick to his stomach. The hand looked wrong, somehow misshapen and distorted.

  Turning away from the sight, he fell back against his pillow and looked up, seeing Chelka’s face and shoulders framed by the windowpane near the bed. At the same time, she gently touched his shoulder.

  “Ed. Calm down, please. The bandages might not hold.”

  The pain of the shallow cut in his chest pulsed like a second heart-beat. Edmath stopped thrashing. He turned to look at her and saw her flushed face on the verge of bursting into either tears or fury. For Chelka either was a possibility.

  “Chelka? I thought you were in Sizali.”

  “I just arrived. Dawkun Kiet told me what happened, what he did. He thought you might be dying. I wasn’t so certain.” Chelka squeezed his shoulder.

  “Ursar Kiet told you? Why him? Where is he?”

  Edmath sat up, covers falling from his bare chest. He found his glasses, still on and pushed them up his nose. Not much time could have passed since the duel if no one had taken them off him.

  “He was waiting outside with Yezani Rumenha, Brosk, and Razili Nane. Most of them had to leave a few hours ago, but he’s still here.” Her eyes grew fierce again. “So is Yezani.”

  “Don’t worry about Yezani. She may be here to thank me for protecting my second. But Kiet?” Edmath shook his head in disbelief. “Say, Chelka, how long was I in the dark?”

  “I arrived last night and found them carrying you here.”

  Edmath gave a sigh of relief, staring at Chelka’s face even as he lay back down.

  “Good news. I couldn’t miss tending my Orpus tomorrow.”

  “It’s lucky I’m here then. Emperor Rumenha says you’re not to move for three days. Obviously, he didn’t know you would wake, after what that cursed Roshi did. I won’t let them hurt you again, Ed.”

  Edmath smiled and closed his eyes for a moment to better feel the warmth of her hand on his skin.

  “I know you won’t. Of course it’s a good thing you’re here.”

  Even with his eyes closed, Edmath noticed the sun rising outside the window, brightening the place beneath his eyelids more and more with every passing moment. He returned his eyes to where Chelka sat in her blue cloak and rega. She gazed back at him with the same passion she had shown at Lexine Park.

  With Chelka present, everything could be alright, even if Sampheli was suspicious and Zuria was afraid. His mother and sister only worried for him. Chelka’s arrival convinced Edmath that the two of them wanted the same thing. Chelka leaned over his bed.

  “Edmath, what are you thinking about?”

  “Happiness, Chelka. I’m thinking about it hard.”

  Chelka grinned. She must have remembered what he remembered. Their old conversations about the future remained clear to both of them.

  “So, you think you’ve got the Benisar formula for happiness down, don’t you?”

  Water made the first ingredient, and the second was love.

  “Of course. I doubt I’ve got it perfect yet, but yes, in a way.” Edmath traced her cheek with his finger.

  She closed her eyes and took his hand.

  “Thirsty?”

  He smiled.

  “Yeah.”

  The sun dawned in a clear sky with no visible clouds. Chelka kept Edmath company for a few more hours before she went to meet her father and the High Emperor. Zemoy would have understood if she was late, but his Grace was not as likely to be tolerant. She and Edmath agreed that she should be punctual. After Chelka left, Yezani Rumenha stepped into the doorway, though she only gave Edmath a satisfied nod before she too left. Ursar Kiet, who looked none-the-worse for wear after spending the night following his duel in the hall outside, came in, grinning at Edmath.

  “I heard from the women that you were awake. I’m honored to speak to you, Sir Saale Donroi.”

  “It’s just Saale, not Sir Saale. Doesn’t the way you said it sound strange, regardless?” Edmath felt nervous being in the same room with Kiet, in case the Roshi held some sort of grudge for the duel. His hands fidgeted. This situation could be dangerous and he had no way of getting out of it if it was.

  “Forgive me. I have never been to Zel before, and I have never fought a Saale before either.”

  “Of course, that is no excuse for losing to me.” Edmath couldn’t believe the words that had just come out of his own mouth, given his desire to survive.

  “I suppose not. Not a very good one, anyway.” Kiet paced across the room to the head of Edmath’s bed. “I’m just pleased to say I have some experience now. Besides you seem like a decent fellow.”

  “Is that so?” Edmath said, feeling no similar satisfaction for having fought a Dawkun. Of course, this hadn’t been the first time. “Strange.”

  “Not so strange.” Kiet back across the room and looked over his shoulder. “You see, I am running out of things to entertain me in a duel. I hope to spend more time with people with your fascinating talents in the future.” He grinned in a way that Edmath did not like.

  “Do you enjoy killing people?”

  “Not enough to make a living out of it. No, I enjoy fighting.”

  “You’re rather good at it.”

  “Thank you for saying so. You still won.” Ursar sighed. “Like I said, you seem decent enough. I’m not angry.”

  “But you are the one still standing.”

  “Only because you showed mercy,” Kiet said and turned back around to face Edmath head on. His sandaled footfalls sounded heavy against the floor. “That’s alright. You have never killed anyone before.”

  Edmath thought of the dead boy, Yot, and how he’d fallen still. He knew what Kiet said was true.

  “Yes, and I don’t plan for that to change.”

  Kiet nodded and then bowed. “I will not be returning to Roshi for some time. I have Akalok and the Ambassador to thank for that. The sad truth is that he will not give up. Now that I have failed to avenge his honor he will simply find someone who won’t. I’m ashamed to say it, but you must beware of him.”

  “Thank you for the warning.” Edmath felt a pinch of frustration with the Roshi. Fighting duels like this was pointless. It would not help Akalok, or anyone else move on. The deeds of past generations should be left behind in the cycle of growth. He glared at Kiet. “I doubt it will make much difference, though.”

  “A shame, indeed.” Kiet turned and strode out the door, letting it close behind him. The Roshi had some odd customs and ways, but Edmath was fairly sure not saying goodbye wasn’t among them. Edmath realized with some surprise that the duelist from Roshi must simply be untutored in manners of any kind.

  Brosk visited him at lunchtime, along with a servant bearing a platter of oysters and vegetables. The two of them ate and Edmath gathered from what Brosk spoke of, that the duel had been well-received by the High Emperor.

  “It sounds as if he is glad you didn’t die,” Brosk said.

&nb
sp; “That is surprising.” Edmath remembered the old man’s expression when he’d first met him. The most powerful emperor of Zel, the attendant of the Sphere of Humanity, had seemed entirely bored and disinterested.

  “I’ve heard the same from Emperor Benisar. He thinks that Emperor Loi is happy because he finally put one over the Minister Regent, they know each other personally.”

  “Everyone knows they are personal rivals, just as their nations are rivals.”

  They talked a bit longer, but Edmath didn’t remember much more after he fell asleep a few minutes after Brosk left, to wake again late in the afternoon. Two cats were prowling the hall outside, talking softly about the mice they hunted.

  Edmath managed to climb out of bed an hour later and made his way to the desk across the room. His left hand hung limp in its bandages, but he could still turn pages, however slowly, with just his right.

  He studied an old bestiary he’d left on his desk the previous day. He searched for the mirache and found it. The creature turned out to be one of the most exceptional of all the Roshi creations, as it combined the animals of two tribes and a significant amount of manipulation by Dawkun, especially to create the creature’s bizarre wings.

  Edmath marveled at the way a magician without as strong a tie to life force as a Saale could have created something so beautiful and powerful. Of course, the terror he’d felt when he had first seen the beastly thing had only gone now because he no longer dreaded the duel he had somehow won. It all still seemed impossible. He knew that if he ever fought Ursar Kiet again he would probably be less lucky.

  He put the book aside. If he was to fight again, he decided not to do it alone. After all, he was a court Saale and had friends to call upon. He furrowed his brow at the bright sky outside his window. Eventually, he went back to reading.

  Summer in the imperial city progressed in a mixed haze of pain and joy for Edmath. He spent what days he could with Chelka when he wasn’t re-acclimating to his role in the Saale Emperor’s court and she wasn’t working for the War Empress on the far side of the palace.

  His wounds from the duel healed over the course of the next two weeks but his broken hand remained in a sling all the way until the year’s first convention of the Council of Kings. The dignitaries of government convened in Diar, arriving in the sixth week of summer from all over the empire. In all, there were over twenty major members of the council, each with his or her own collection of advisers, servants, and guards.

  The first day of the council, Chelka and Edmath went together to the house of a healer Saale he had decided to see about his hand. The bandages and sling on his arm were hardly appropriate for the highest council of order in the empire. He hated lacking the use of his fingers as well, though he knew that the risk involved in healing broken bones would be significant.

  Saale magic could be employed as life arts to repair damage, but stopping it from going too far could be difficult. Edmath’s studies in this field often mentioned the nature of the life arts as being fundamentally about creation and growth, not repair or healing. Each form had its limitations, but a few Saales specialized in precision arts such as the healing he required.

  At any rate, he had been nearly maimed fighting the duelist from Roshi and considered himself lucky that he’d be able to keep his hand at all. Chelka went to hire a carriage for them to return to the palace, as they would not be able to make the trip across the city in time without it.

  Edmath stepped into the white-washed, nearly flat-roofed building. He was greeted by a hunched old woman with a rega hanging across her chest and a head of long gray hair.

  “Well, well, the Saale duelist. Come right inside. Your message mentioned you wanted help with that hand of yours.”

  Edmath bowed.

  “That is right, Lady Haph. I require something that will keep them together without alerting all to the knowledge of my, certainly unfortunate injury. It is the Saale Emperor’s pride at stake, you know.”

  “Of course, young man. No need to get windy. Sit down.” She indicated a hard-backed chair in the back of the room with a jab of her finger. “I have just the thing for this, so don’t worry.”

  Walking to the other side of the room, Edmath took a seat in the chair. His eyes moved around the, perhaps overly clean room. The white walls and heavy tabletop were all clean and free of dust. Clear water sparkled in a cup on a table by the window, and beside it, several potted plants grew upwards around small poles, more vines than trees. Edmath recognized them by more than shape. The scent of fire beans tickled Edmath’s nose and he felt as though he might sneeze.

  “Are you ready?” Lady Haph came toward him from the doorway, holding a cane that was too long for her in one hand, and a glass of water in the other.

  “What manner of treatment is this, good lady?”

  “Ah yes, you would want to know. You will be pleased to hear that there is a striker on this cane. I’m not going to beat you over the head with it. The water is for you to drink. We have to make sure to keep your body saturated so I don’t accidentally dry you up when I create the cushions in your hand.

  “Cushions?”

  “That is what I said, young man. The cushions will keep your bones from rattling around while they heal. The process is not perfect, but it will allow you to dispose of those bothersome wrappings and speed the rest of your recovery.”

  “Very well.” Edmath took the glass of water from her. “Proceed.”

  “As you like, as you like.” She struck the air with her striker-cane and magic flowed out of the tear and directly to her. She drew it in and touched the point of her finger to the skin of Edmath’s arm just above the bandaged area. He felt a tingle and closed his eyes.

  “Drink,” she told him. He obeyed with a splash of the glass against the roof of his mouth. The tingling faded, replaced by an awkward, dense feeling in his hand. The pain of the broken bones, which had been slight but constant until now, faded little by little until only the barest hint of it remained.

  The corners of Lady Haph’s mouth parted in a satisfied smile.

  “That should do the trick. Unwrap that hand, young man.”

  When he walked out onto the street, Edmath found Chelka paying the driver of a team of moths across the street.

  She glanced at him as he approached, dark hair and tawny skin shining in the morning light. Her eyes moved to his broken, but no longer bandaged hand. She smiled like the heart of a sunflower.

  The carriage driver was Augo Vassma, the middle-aged moth lord who’d flown him, Zuria, and Sampheli to the imperial palace on his first day in the city. Approaching the carriage, Edmath bowed to the driver.

  Augo laughed.

  “If it isn’t Saale Donroi! You keep the company of some beautiful women, friend.”

  Chelka gave Edmath an amused glance before walking around the moth landed on the road and stepping into the carriage. He followed her, directing his eyes toward Augo.

  “Lord Vassma, thank you for your service, once again.”

  “Climb aboard. I hear you are in a hurry. Very important party you have waiting for you.” Augo whistled. “The Council of Kings.”

  “Right you are.” Edmath climbed into the basket beside Chelka and they took off, careful not to use his newly treated hand. “Please land us near the north gate.”

  “North gate, boys and girls,” Augo said in moth speech. “Let’s go.”

  The moths fluttered faster. Chelka grinned as they rose over the buildings. She told him about how she had enjoyed her journey on the sky levoth to get here faster a few days after arriving. Strong wind blew over the city and through Edmath’s hair.

  When they touched down at the palace gates, Chelka and Edmath thanked Augo and hurried into the palace. Passing over the outer gardens on a columned bridge, they made their way to the King’s Dome, a great gray building that rose up from a series of pools and fountains surrounded by tall, green-leafed trees.

  After greeting the guards at the door, they found
that the councilors were still entering the building. The Oyster King, Leus Ogusotha and his sizable company of advisers and bodyguards were just ahead of them. Within the gateway, Chelka and Edmath parted ways. All the Saales were to join their Emperors’ tables to support them. There were, in all, ten kings in the empire, one for each tribe. Three of them already lived in Diar, Marnaia Hayel, Zemoy Benisar, and Vosraan Loi. In addition, the three councils of elders from the other tribes each had tables to themselves within the tall chamber at the dome’s center.

  The room towered three stories and was topped by a transparent crystalline dome so the sun was clearly visible in the sky above. Most of the tables were already full of the representatives from every district of the empire as well as their attendants. The ten kings and queens each had a table for themselves and their parties. Edmath passed the ones belonging to the Swan Queen, Gellia Dayull, and the newly-arrived Oyster King Ogusotha before finding the one he was to sit at. Cloying humidity pressed down on the many councilors all around the room.

  Edmath took the seat Haddishal Rumenha had left open beside him for his use. He had been honored when the Saale Emperor had told him his position. As a fresh Court Saale, and, he reminded himself, as the winner of a duel with of honor with Roshi, he was supposedly as worthy as any. If only the group of old monks who had requested his removal from the monastery all those years ago could see him now. More than worthy. Respectable.

  The square table before him was already crowded with Saales from all the different regions, from Olos in the northwest to Vishelen in the southeast, who wore both white regas and black sashes, marking them as royals and commoners alike. The Saale Emperor greeted him with a sidelong glance and half-nod before turning back to the other representatives at their table.

  “I hope we will have enough here soon.”

  Razili Nane, sitting in the seat on the other side of Haddishal from Edmath, answered the emperor with a nod of her own. She lifted a book from the seat beside her and then opened it. Her eyes skimmed down the pages as she flipped through them one after another.