Spells of the Curtain Volume One

by Tim Niederriter

  “Almost, Excellency. There is still the Magister of Tokalgo, and no part of the council can begin without him.”

  “Right you are.” Haddishal sighed. “I think his Grace might only keep that law to annoy the rest of us. His Superiority, the Magister of Tokalgo, is always late.”

  A flicker of shadow passed over the dome, then another, and another, like streaks of slender clouds, but Edmath guessed they must be winged animals by the way they glided.

  The shadow of something massive, still serpentine, but no less than thirty feet long, eclipsing the crystal dome from sunlight for a moment before passing completely. Edmath looked glanced at Razili in surprise. Haddishal Rumenha did not look, instead stroking his beard with a smile on his face.

  “That must be him now.”

  The Magister of Tokalgo was a singularly mighty personage. As he slithered into the hall, wings folded on his back, many heads turned to look upon him. Many of the representatives and royals must have seen the magister before, but, of course, Edmath thought, one does not simply ignore the thirty-foot-long winged serpent entering the chamber with its entourage.

  Haddishal Rumenha and the other two lower emperors rose, turned to the magister and bowed, as his undulating tail carried him to where the High Emperor’s palanquin sat on a raised dais at the far end of the room. Edmath followed the great creature with his eyes. Of course, the magister was smaller than the miraches, probably only half as long, and much lighter of build, but his regal deep blue and straight silver scales shone in a way that made the hair of the Roshi creatures seem dull. Haddishal Rumenha and the other two lower emperors sat back down. The great head of the magister descended from between the wings, in a bow to the High Emperor. Vosraan Loi actually stood, his wrinkled features warm with a smile.

  He reached out his veined hand and touched the great serpent above reptilian brows.

  “Greetings, Jattla Worrilk, I see you have arrived with the tribute as always, faithful to the bargain our forebears made between each other.” He gestured past the magister to the train of greater eagles, and mix of winged and wingless serpents, as well as human men and women carrying baskets full of gold and fruit. “This pleases me, once again, to imagine how fine the fortune you keep for yourself is.”

  The magister serpent opened his mouth and his voice boomed out across the room, deep, powerful, and disconcertingly human.

  “Your Grace, I regret my lateness, but the treasures my people bring are too great for flight, and slow travel immensely.”

  The magister threw back his head and hissed with a distinctly forked tongue before returning to human speech.

  “In the name of Serem the Creator, may this Council of Kings begin.”

  People vacated the tables and then servants cleared them away, another recent tradition due to the magister’s regular lateness, Edmath discovered. With past magisters, the council would simply stand and wait. Worrilk the Jattla was a magister of incredible slowness, but also, Zuria had assured him when they were children, of incredible intellect.

  Worrilk was said to be the only animal in the living world to have become a Saale without the knowledge of the ancient magisters which he now possessed, having taken that position. His powers were unrivaled by humans except for perhaps the High Emperors.

  This information left Edmath quite unprepared for the mighty creature’s actual presence, and he felt overwhelmed by the way the magister towered over the High Emperor’s seat while everyone else moved to their benches along the dome’s curved wall. Brief confusion ensued as to where several of the newly appointed representatives would sit, slowing things down further. Waiting left Edmath impatient. He wished he’d brought a book with him like Razili.

  When everyone was seated in their proper places, Worrilk the Jattla raised his great head and shifted his features into those of a human face, though still plated with blue and silver scales and still massive. He looked up at them, handsome, serene, and fearsome, despite the face, or perhaps because of it.

  “Let us come to order in this fine hour of the morning.”

  The late morning, Edmath thought.

  The magister continued, having paused for a long breath.

  “The summer sun hangs in a clear sky above us, sirs and misses, lords and ladies. Some of us have traveled far to be here on this day, and I’m afraid there is no stopping it. There are matters in this empire, which must be addressed. The representatives will hear the cases of the kings and queens now before any votes are taken up. We will all pay heed, oh highnesses.”

  The first king to speak was always the ruler of the Oyster Tribe, Edmath knew from his studies of the court. The Oyster Tribe fed much of the empire, so their rights came first, as did their complaints. The pale and aging Oyster King stood in the front row of the first division and raised his arm before speaking.

  “Thanks to your Superiority and a blessing on this honorable convention. I submit to you all the deepest worry of my people this year. It is on the oyster beds that our time has always been lavished. It is on these same oyster beds that feed all of our peoples, that a great slaughter is taking place. Countless times this year, the pirates of Palatan and the distant Shark Tribe of Omosot have come and carried off our greater animals in large numbers. All I seek today is assistance in defending my people’s livelihood, and our nation’s food supply. Thank you, councilors.”

  He sat down, and the speeches passed to the next division.

  The second division belonged to the Moth Tribe, and so Vosraan Loi said a few words about how prosperous his people were. To Edmath’s surprise, his speech mentioned no request. Even the High Emperor should almost always have something to say, some sort of wish for his people to fulfill, but not today.

  The next two divisions spoke. The Elk Tribe with the War Empress Marnaia Hayel as its queen disagreed with the Fourth Division’s leader. The Eagle Elder. The old Eagle Tribe woman requested the High Emperor seek lasting and complete peace with Roshi. Empress Hayel spoke of her people’s need for more land in the northwest, where Roshi held sway. They did not argue so much as spoke their opposed speeches side-by-side before passing to the next divisions.

  Edmath marveled at how much composure they showed, even going so far as to turn to Razili Nane, who sat beside him.

  “Do you think they will be able to keep calm later?”

  “We may find out.” She smiled at him.

  The fifth and sixth divisions were the Whale Tribe, with Brosk’s father, Ahenesrude, as king of the Whale Tribe, and Razili’s mother Semana as Queen of the Coral Tribe, respectively. They agreed that piracy had increased and larger and larger raiding forces continued to sail from Palatan, just to the south of the country of Vishelen on the coast of Zel. The seventh division, ruled by the black-haired and quite young Swan Queen Gellia Dayull said she needed more time to raise troops for the imperial army and so begged for peace, at least until the next spring.

  The eighth division’s Worm King, Kassel Onoi, a grizzled, yellow-haired man in his late forties, stood and supported the others who wished for peace. His people were not ready for another war, not yet. Edmath thought of Yot, the village boy who had died hating Saales while monsters ate him from within. He suppressed a shudder, frowning. Kassel Onoi finished his piece, bowed to the crowd. Then he sat.

  Zemoy Benisar supported peace and taxes for more commemoration of this age of prosperity, for the Squid Tribe in the ninth division. His speech was short. Edmath saw Chelka, sitting near War Empress Hayel, close to the bottom of the rows of raised seats, nod her head sleepily as her father sat back down.

  Rising lazily from his seat at the base of the tenth division, a Bear Elder, Yith Eeren clapped his huge hands in the silence.

  “We have heard many a good argument from this council thus far,” he said. “And, as the end of our initial hearing draws closer, I wish to tell you all that the prosperity we all enjoy is growing among my people as well. All I wish for now is hope for a peaceable settlement to our age-old stru
ggle with the Roshi people who no doubt desire the same. Thank you.” He dropped back into his seat and closed his eyes as if preparing to hibernate like an animal of his tribe’s namesake.

  Edmath watched him in silence. So many wished for peace. The feeling had begun to sink in on him that their honor was most likely not as important to them as their future. He could not be sure if their honor was at stake here, or, if he was any different from them simply because of the duel, because of his father. He felt a twinge of bitterness about the duel and twitched the fingers on his damaged hand. At the very least this was the price he’d have to pay for peace.

  The eleventh Division belonged to Frog Queen Ili Rawto, who requested that the council aid her in taxing foreigners from Palatan living on the border of her land. Even though Edmath had not heard about the troubled on Vishelen’s southern side until today, he felt oddly absorbed by the discussion. The people living there would be of tribes different from those of Zel, probably plenty of Rooster and perhaps even Hare, or Rat. All those people reminded him of the size of the world outside the empire, still as vast as ever. Even so, those who dwelt in Zel could not have the powers of Royals as long as their tribe did not swear to the High Emperor’s Sphere of Humanity.

  The twelfth division was ruled by the Shoal King, whose people wanted additional fishery space further to the south. Of course, that would mean war with Palatan, which would not be as easy to dismiss as war with Roshi. The Palatani barbarians only allowed members of one tribe, the Rooster, in their government. They lacked a Sphere of Humanity as well, and that made them more difficult to negotiate into trade. Without the sphere, Palatan’s single tribe was bound only to members of its own kind.

  Finally, the Magister of Tokalgo, who always represented the elders of the serpent tribe, raised his head from the floor and spoke his own piece with a mouth that looked as human as any other king or queen. He suggested Tokalgo natives be reprieved from the draft if there was a war, as they were still recovering from an insurgency following the rebellion of twenty years ago. That insurgency had claimed the life of Sampheli’s husband, Zuria’s father. When he was finished with his own arguments, he raised his head and looked up at the central dome.

  “These are our desires, the desires of the tribes of Zel. Serem, aid us in determining our course of action.”

  The magister’s upper body slipped back onto the floor. His great feathery wings caught the light from above and spread impressively. “This first session will adjourn until the sun moves an acre further to the west.” With that, the human features melted from his face to be replaced with the reptilian ones he’d worn upon his entrance. Edmath found them a good deal less disturbing to look at, though the magister still unnerved him, something so powerful and yet, far from human. He rose with Razili as the councilors began to disperse. They left the council chamber for the garden outside.

  The councilors went their separate ways for the next hour or so. Those dignitaries who had just arrived the previous day mostly went to walk in the gardens and talk among themselves and their highborn royal peers. Edmath and Razili met Chelka and with Razili’s brother Oresso just outside the King’s Dome. The two of them had been talking and Edmath felt a stab of irritation as the Coral Prince touched Chelka’s bare shoulder beside her rega.

  Oresso Nane had the black hair of his family and his eyes were the same color as Razili’s, blue like deep water. A sheathed sword hung at his hip and he wore a rega across the emblem of the War Empress on his white tunic. He smiled when he saw Edmath and Razili approaching.

  “Good afternoon, sister. Edmath, I see you’re doing well.”

  “Not so well,” Edmath said. “I suppose you didn’t see the duel?”

  Oresso nodded.

  “Oh yes. Forgive me. I have been away on business for the War Empress. I hear you acquitted yourself well.”

  Oresso’s expression seemed to add words to his last statement, for a commoner.

  Edmath forced himself to smile and hoped the effort wasn’t obvious.

  “I think I did, of course. And I wouldn’t expect everyone to have witnessed it.”

  He judged by Oresso’s raised eyebrows the Coral Prince had detected Edmath’s annoyance. Even back at Lexine Park, they had never exactly gotten along. Oresso placed so much importance on the station of birth he had been indignant Edmath had even been able to attend the same prestigious Saale college as he.

  Razili walked past Edmath, eyes flicking toward Chelka. Both women smiled, and Edmath was grateful. Oresso had gotten on his nerves faster than usual this time. If he didn’t get some space to breathe he would have trouble keeping up a calm front. Frustrated at being so easily irritated, he took a long breath.

  “I suppose you have been inspecting a fortress then?”

  Oresso smirked and shook his head.

  “Actually, I built one, in the south of Olos, at the mouth of the Hen River.”

  “You are truly a master of coral, good prince. Somehow I doubt you have made any more progress than I have in driving life into stone.” Edmath looked over the top rim of his glasses at Oresso.

  Oresso adjusted his rega and the shrugged.

  “Right, as usual, Edmath. I have come no closer to that impossible task. At least I do not have the misfortune of being fixated on it.”

  “Fixated? This was all you talked about last time I saw you.”

  “Only because I was talking to you.”

  Edmath’s arm quivered, halfway to his striker pouch. Oresso was, as before, a capable verbal wit. Of course, that wasn’t what mattered. Most of his powers as a Saale were tied to the coral tosh he so prized. Otherwise, he was a virtual nothing magically, or so Edmath tried to tell himself.

  Chelka touched Edmath’s hand and this time his fingers trembled honestly. Oresso raised his eyebrows at Edmath before turning to Razili.

  “Will you please go find Zuria Mierzon, good sister? I have a feeling she will want to see the rather interesting device I discovered while away.” Oresso’s hand strayed to the scabbard hanging from his belt, fingers touching the guard of the weapon it held.

  “As you like, brother. I expect to hear all about your journey soon enough.” Razili walked away into the garden.

  Chelka tossed her head, an impatient gesture that sent black hair spilling across her shoulder.

  “Edmath, may I talk to you for a moment?”

  “Of course, Chelka, though I think Lord Nane is preparing to show us something. Shall we leave him with no audience?”

  Chelka’s lips formed a thin line, but then she smiled. “No. Surely you heard that your sister will be here soon.”

  Edmath did not assent. He didn’t like the way Oresso was looking at the two of them, the sly smile and slit eyes that opened just a little wider as they shifted to Chelka. For her part, she seemed not to notice his look. The Coral Prince drew the weapon from his scabbard. It was not a sword, or at least, it was like no sword Edmath had seen before. Chelka turned to look at it too and Oresso grinned openly.

  “This is called a stethian,” he said, running his hand up the wider side of the flattened, edgeless piece of metal until his thumb touched a ball of crystal just smaller than Edmath’s fist where the point should have been, were it a sword. “It was the tool of an old Saale fisherman I found near where I built the fortress. He gave me this because he didn’t want it anymore. Given its remarkable power, I can’t imagine why that was the case, however.”

  “I see.” Chelka chuckled. “So this is the artifact I heard you’d recovered. Apparently, it took less excavating than conversation.”

  “Fair point, my lady.” Oresso’s eyes moved up and down the stethian. “I had a feeling it wouldn’t sound impressive when I said it.”

  “Of course, it is a magical tool then? Is it some form of striker?” Edmath’s gaze passed over Oresso’s fingers. Three striker rings were looped around the ring at the hilt of the stethian.

  “A striker, I doubt, but I am not yet entirely sure. The old ma
n who owned it would not instruct me in its use, but I feel it will not disappoint me, or her Excellency the War Empress. You see, it amplifies any spells wielded by Saales that hold it.” Oresso grinned. “In my tests, I have noted significant increases in most effects. It could be a powerful weapon in battle.”

  “Very good. Now, if you will excuse us, Lord Nane, I recalled something I must tell Edmath.” Chelka took Edmath’s good hand and led him the rest of the way across the bridge. He followed without a word, letting her draw him after her. The urgent grip on his hand made him wonder at her intentions. He was quite grateful for the relief from Oresso.

  Edmath did not look back. He didn’t care if Oresso was affronted by his and Chelka’s desertion of his company. In fact, the idea made him a bit smug.

  The two of them made their way down some steps to the edge of a low-lying pool below a stone bridge, beside the exposed roots of a tall and green-leafed tree. Chelka released his hand and walked to the water before turning to face him. He followed her a few steps and stopped when she held up her hand.

  “What’s the matter, dear one?” he asked.

  “Oresso Nane.”

  “Really? He is as self-involved as ever, of course, but what of it?”

  Chelka sighed heavily and folded her arms. Her arms and tunic were dappled with light falling through the tree-branches high above.

  “He has asked my father about me, my eligibility to marry.”

  Edmath’s stomach churned at the thought. He had considered this sort of possibility, for he was not himself a royal. As a commoner, he likely could not supersede a previous arrangement should Oresso ask for Chelka’s hand. Furthermore, Oresso of all people had made the request, so he knew his own feelings would not be of any help. Oresso might not be much of a Saale, but he was heir to the throne of the coral tribe and his tosh was powerful. Those two things counted for much compared to having no tosh at all like Edmath.

  “Shall I tell you the fine thing about this?” Chelka’s glum face turned up to the tree before refocusing on Edmath.