Spells of the Curtain Volume One

by Tim Niederriter

  A thump came from the further back across the bridge. Ursar Kiet rose from his crouch and patted the mirache head he had leapt from.

  “That won’t do. My mirache is playful. He’s not the sort of creature you want to kill, is he, Saales?” He lowered the great spear he carried and stalked toward them. The heads of his steed withdrew between the columns.

  Edmath turned to face the Roshi duelist.

  “You seemed like a decent fellow.”

  “A decent fellow serves his nation.”

  Edmath glanced at Brosk.

  “Remember, his death gaze.”

  “I remember,” Brosk said. “You two, get through the door.”

  He strode toward the Roshi. His striker chain opened tears from his striker chain with every step as he walked. Never looking back, Brosk made the sign of the stomach with his free hand.

  Edmath stared at him. Magic flowed into him from the tears his friend had opened. Chelka reacted before him. She turned, raised her stethian and shot a bolt of yellow light into the heavy wooden door. As burnt splinters fell upon the floor, Ursar Kiet grinned.

  “You two aren’t worth it anyway. The Whale Prince will be a worthy opponent.” Kiet grinned with a broad sincerity that made Edmath shudder.

  “Brosk.”

  “Just go, Ed. I’ll be fine.”

  Edmath and Chelka looked at each other, but Brosk did not turn toward them. He stared at Ursar Kiet and suddenly a thundering sound came from above them. Torrents of yellow liquid erupted from the air in front of Brosk and shot towards the Roshi before him. He charged after the high river of bile and gave a wild yell. Edmath felt Chelka’s warm hand in his, still gripping her double striker ring. She pulled him forward and they ran through the doorway.

  It was dark on the other side except for Chelka’s brightening spell-light. It took a moment for Edmath to realize he knew where they were. The internal domes were similar, but this one was just one room away from the throne room he’d seen on his first day in Diar.

  “Follow me,” he said. “We’ve got to get to the pyramid.”

  “You think his Grace is still in there?” Chelka raised her stethian and pointed it out across the bridge.

  “I think if he is still alive he would not leave the sphere of humanity.”

  “Right. Let’s go.”

  Edmath nodded and then started down the hall at a run. The fastest way to the pyramid would be through the window behind the throne. It overlooked the temple peak. He led Chelka through a corridor and up the stairs to the empty throne in the room they reached. The window was there, just as he’d expected it to be. Raising his stethian he pointed at its tall curtains.

  “Allow me.” Chelka made her sign of the star and the window shades flew open, revealing the pyramid beyond.

  Edmath made the sign of the branch and sent a long twisting plant flowing down from the window to form a bridge to the top of the pyramid. It took a few seconds to grow the plant but he and Chelka were running along it the moment it reached the other side. Edmath heard an inhuman cry and saw Kiet’s six-faced mirache coming toward them, completely without a rider and shedding blood from the wounds they had already dealt it.

  Chelka spun and shot a red light from her stethian. The flash of color grazed one of the creature’s heads and set the fur alight, but did not slow it down. Edmath dropped onto the stones of the pyramid steps even as the branch behind him shattered. The mirache’s great wings beat with what could have been the sound of a thousand birds. Chelka disappeared as it passed between them. Edmath’s mouth fell open even as he made the sign of years.

  A burst of growth surged through the crippled plant. Chelka reappeared on the mirache’s back as it flew in reverse from the bridge of wood. A great red head lunged from behind her and bit down. Chelka tumbled down the creature’s back, leaving her dress’ long white train in the jaws behind her. Edmath didn’t waste the time she had given him. His next sign was that of the forest, a complex and difficult one he rarely used.

  Great leafy branches and round trunks rose up from the courtyard below, fueled by the magic Edmath released. The forest extended towards Chelka as she fell from the mirache. The soft-crafted leafy canopy caught her and cushioned her fall as she caught herself. Edmath sagged half with relief and half with pure exhaustion.

  The magic he’d just put to use had nearly exhausted him. He struck a tear as Chelka shot bolt of light after bolt of light after the retreating mirache. Every blast failed to hit the monster.

  “Come on,” he called. “We have to find his Grace.”

  Chelka looked in his direction as he extended another bridge of wood toward her. The look of surprise on her face told Edmath that she had not relaxed her attitude since the times she had learned dueling alongside him back at Lexine Park. She got carried away with fighting. It couldn’t be healthy. Still looking at her, Edmath knew he’d made the right choice to marry her. Pins that had held her hair up fell from her as she walked. He could not hear them hit the ground below.

  “Don’t stare, Ed.” Chelka gave him a wild grin. “We still have a job to do.”

  She stepped off the branch Edmath had summoned and the two of them raised their stethians. They climbed the stairs.

  The first room in the tower at the top of the pyramid was lined with sputtering candles, and more burned in the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Voices he could not trace and did not understand reverberated through the room, shouting in rage. Edmath peered through the shadows. The voices echoed around the chamber, incoherent, and ghostly. Across the room the huge circular shadow of the sphere of humanity loomed, visible through a partially translucent white curtain.

  On the left, a set of red curtains glowed in the candlelight. On the other side of the room, green curtains lay in tatters with small fires burning upon them. In the center of the piles of torn green fabric, lay a small shape, yellow hair gleaming in the candlelight.

  “It’s his Grace’s Saale,” Edmath said as he and Chelka approached the girl on the floor. She lay on her back with a long black burn on her forearm. Her other hand clutched a stethian but her eyes were closed and she shook with pain.

  “Keve?” He crouched beside her. “Keve Zasha?”

  “Edmath Donroi.” The girl’s voice showed no pain, only deadened resolve. “Where is Emperor Loi?”

  “I don’t know. We need to find him.”

  “Yes. They came here. Akalok Roshi is with his Grace, behind the white curtain. You must be careful, Saales. There are more on their way.”

  Keve Zasha propped sat up, head waving with dizziness, and propped herself on her stethian. The ball of the device trickled white smoke like Chelka’s. Edmath looked past Keve to a burned body lying against the wall. The bulging remains of a protean sphere told him the thing had not been human when it died.

  “How many are with them?” Chelka approached the white curtain, stethian arm out-stretched. She stared straight ahead and kept a pace as Edmath helped Keve stand up.

  Keve looked at Chelka’s back and Edmath followed her trembling gaze. Chelka’s shoulders were exposed by the cut of her dress. She glanced over her shoulder at him and Keve.

  “How many?” Chelka asked again.

  “At least three, though there were four.” Keve staggered away from Edmath and lifted her stethian. “The three of us should be able to save his Grace if we hurry.”

  “Right.” Chelka threw back the side of the white curtain with her free hand and slipped past it.

  Edmath followed her with Keve beside him. The young Saale girl whimpered with pain every few paces. Edmath saw blood in her hair, hair the same color as his. He turned toward Chelka as her lighted stethian cast the large shadow the sphere of humanity across the walls.

  “This is it.” She breathed a sigh. “I wish we had Brosk. His whale tosh’s echolocation could find anyone hiding here, no problem.”

  “I know.”

  Edmath blinked. Brosk could be dead by now. He remembered his promise to Yeza
ni not to let his friend fight Ursar Kiet. Even beyond the duel, the memory stung. He started past Chelka and to the altar at the back of the sphere of humanity’s alcove. A figure detached itself from the shadows quickly followed by three more.

  Akalok Roshi lit the darkness with a fire in his eyes. The High Emperor knelt at the altar before him, eyes closed and with the wings of the Crown of Three folded behind his back. Except for his upright posture, he looked unconscious, almost dead, but Edmath could see no wounds on him.

  Akalok’s voice broke the silence.

  “I’m glad you made it, Saale Donroi.”

  Edmath stepped out of the way and let Chelka and Keve stand alongside him. Chelka kept her stethian pointed at Akalok even as it illuminated Tamina Roshi on his left and Kassel Onoi on his right. The Worm King rolled his eyes and gave Akalok a sideways glance.

  “You know, it is Lord Benisar now. Remember our customs, Roshi.”

  Tamina gave Kassel a ferocious glare.

  “Do not misspeak, Worm King. You can die here too if you wish.”

  “Hush, Tamina,” said Keve. She leapt forward, stethian glowing with green light. Her eyes were wild.

  Edmath’s face flushed with angry heat as he realized Kassel Onoi held a sword. That meant he was the treacherous one the emperor had warned about. That man had seemed so understanding. Edmath had liked him almost immediately. Now, this. Why?

  Keve’s stethian flared bright. Razor-sharp wooden darts shot from its point. Akalok Roshi’s burning gaze turned wood to ash in midair.

  “You are too late, Saales. His Grace has taken the coward’s way out and sent his mind into the sphere. He cannot, will not, help you now.”

  “Right you are, Akalok Roshi.” Edmath gritted his teeth. “But you words show you don’t understand one thing.”

  Akalok stalked around the altar, staring at Edmath all the while. His eyes burned but the orange light left a dark halo around each of them.

  “What have I misunderstood?”

  Edmath made the sign of the thorn with the hand at his side and used the last of his magic to focus on the spell.

  “We came here to help him.”

  Black-bladed vines shot from Edmath’s stethian burning as Akalokok’s fire lanced forth. Black blades slashed across Akalok’s shoulders and arms but failed to strike his head or chest.

  Akalok’s anger emerged in another burst of fire. Edmath threw himself to the side and the line of fire hit the sphere of humanity behind him. Kassel Onoi started forward, sword on guard as he drew near Edmath. Keve launched a trio of wooden darts into his hand and Kassel cursed with pain.

  Tamina slashed toward Chelka. She brought up her stethian and blocked with a ringing of metal on metal. She stepped around the Roshi woman, weaving her left leg around Tamina’s right. Chelka spilled Tamina to the floor.

  Edmath blocked Kassel’s next swing with his stethian, but stumbled. His back pressed against Chelka’s as Tamina returned to her feet with speed impossible without magic enhancing her every movement. Akalok whirled and shot a burst of fire at Keve, who vanished from view behind the curtain of orange flames. As he struck a tear with his free hand, Edmath felt his ring shatter from overuse. The fragments fell from his finger. Magic flowed from a new tear, surrounding Edmath and Chelka.

  Kassel fell back a few steps to protect Akalok, sword on guard. Akalok’s eyes ceased burning and he made a triangle with both hands. Tamina drove Chelka back a step, pushing her back against Edmath’s shoulders. A burst of light from Chelka’s stethian blackened the stone wall behind Tamina. Akalok’s hand flew toward the High Emperor’s head. Edmath glimpsed the man’s movement and leapt forward.

  Kassel’s sword gashed Edmath’s arm below where he held stethian. Edmath gasped but kept moving out of pure desperation. Using nearly all of the power he’d gathered just a moment before he made the sign of the root. A shield of wood formed along his side. Kassel’s sword buried itself in the wood on the back-swing and Akalok’s hand smashed into it, sending splinters flying.

  “Damn you,” Akalok said, and fell back a pace.

  Edmath gave a fevered laugh, sinking to his knees beside the altar. His bleeding arm fell to his side as he looked at the High Emperor. The toll this fight took on him might be too much, but still, Edmath served, even tonight.

  Tamina flew toward them in a blur, sword raised. Chelka leapt between the red-haired woman and Edmath, catching the Roshi’s blade on her stethian behind her back. She gave a step with a grunt, back bent. Edmath looked back at her.

  “Of course, now we die.”

  “Don’t you tell me that, Ed.” Chelka’s grip on her stethian faltered and the blade of Tamina’s sword drew blood from her shoulder.

  She grimaced with pain. An odd sensation filled the pit of Edmath’s stomach, not dread, not pain, though he felt those as well. No, he truly felt the need to breathe as he never had before. He felt the need to live, the need to be free and to run and to escape. He made the sign of the ghost, a change art that represented the final state of the lifeline.

  “I won’t say it again.” Edmath bowed his head, sweat pouring down his brow. “We are here to save his Grace.”

  He touched the High Emperor’s forehead with his unwounded hand and traced a symbol just below the old man’s gray scalp. Dizzy with pain, he struggled to complete a Hesiatic mind augury.

  The old man opened his eyes.

  “You again? You are so dull, boy.”

  Edmath felt a gentle hand touch his back and then slip off. Chelka gave a cry as Tamina’s blade swung back upward. Keve Zasha touched Chelka’s leg and brought her head to rest against the High Emperor’s high forehead. The world burned bright for a moment, so alive that Edmath remembered no other time he had felt so much magic.

  The chamber vanished and Edmath felt grass beneath his knees and feet. He collapsed onto his hands. Chelka sagged against him for a moment, hands brushing his back before she straightened and looked around.

  Vosraan Loi raised his head as Keve Zasha slid onto her knees in the grass beside Edmath and Chelka. She gave the High Emperor a small smile, face sweaty and pale, and then collapsed onto the cold grass. The stethian fell from her hand.

  With a long, low breath, Edmath pushed himself back up, first to crouch, then to stand. Chelka reached for him and took his hand. Together they looked up at the starry night sky, hair and clothes moving in the gentle breeze. The familiar constellations burned across the heavens, traced by Edmath’s memory. Life went on despite the pain. Somehow, of course, life always went on. The moon shone like a tiny coin over the darkened hills that rose before them and Edmath realized they were nowhere near the city. He could not see the ocean anywhere, but instead, white pines covered half the slope where Keve had transported them.

  Chelka squeezed his hand.

  “We need help,” she said. “You’re hurt. So am I.”

  “But how? I mean, of course, but where are we?”

  Edmath laid his throbbing head against Chelka’s shoulder and leaned on her, exhausted. The nightmarish creatures and the Roshi were gone, at least. This was the freedom he had wanted just when he thought he was going to die. He reminded himself that the wound in his arm might yet be the end of him. Vosraan Loi rose and spread the red wings behind his crown.

  “Ah, Edmath, don’t you see?” He laughed. “My dear Keve has simply brought us to the place I was born, the place I told her to take me in an emergency, bless her. This is Hessiom, near my mother’s home village of Opar, if I am not mistaken.”

  “Really?” Edmath turned and looked back into the nearby valley surrounded by groves of the same white pines as on the hills. “How can you say?”

  “I grew up in this region before going west in my youth, boy. I will never forget this place.” The High Emperor looked down at Keve Zasha and gently touched her ear with a wrinkled hand. “Please help me carry young Lady Zasha, will you. She is light, but I am old.”

  Edmath released Chelka’s hand and walked over
to the High Emperor and his Saale. He bent down and lifted the slim girl onto his back. Chelka shook her head and the wind picked up her hair and tugged it around her face. She started down the hill toward the village.

  Nothing could be done but to keep moving, Edmath decided as he straightened up and followed her. Their wedding night may have been ruined, but at least they had saved the emperor, old and strange though he was. Chelka put a hand on her wounded shoulder. Edmath felt dizzy as he watched the blood trickle between her fingers. He averted his eyes and kept walking.

  They made it to the village in little time, but finding a place to stay at such a late time could have been difficult if Chelka had not thought ahead. She struck the air in the center of the village and raised her stethian. A bright flare of magical light shot upward and hung in the air, burning over the village and soon people began to filter out into the streets. When they had gathered a small crowd of villagers, Chelka waved a hand to stop their voices. Vosraan Loi strode into the center of the square to stand beside her.

  “My friends, do you not recognize me?” he said. “It is I, High Emperor Vosraan Loi, come to you tonight for sanctuary. Will you not help your tribe’s king and his Saales?”

  He raised his arms and then let them fall. The crowd came together to see him more clearly and soon Edmath found Keve was taken from his back by a burly old moth lord and he and Chelka were quickly ushered to the open inn.

  As a villager bandaged Edmath’s wounded arm, he looked at Chelka who’s shoulder was already tied with a patch of white cloth. Chelka’s gaze fell upon the sleeping form of Keve Zasha as the aides finished dressing Edmath’s wound and released him from where he sat. The people did not seem so much in awe of the High Emperor as they were simply dedicated to helping him. This was his native country. They must honor him more than any other nation of Zel would.

  Edmath looked around the white, pine-wood walls of the inn’s main dining room. It was decorated with moth patterns and plaques for each of the previous owners. The building looked to be positively ancient and Edmath realized it was, in fact, the Malilia, a place where the legendary three warlords once met. The current owner, the moth lord who had carried Keve into the building, sat down across from the High Emperor and spoke to him as an old friend. A few minutes into their conversation, the High Emperor turned to Chelka and Edmath.