Brosk held up a hand and shook his head.
“It isn’t like that. You see, the spell risks hurting you the longer I concentrate on it. The sphere might fight back if it notices the spell. It’ll be better to wait until we know we need it.”
Edmath didn’t want to show his fear of the pain. He gritted his teeth and then nodded.
“Of course. I see.”
Brosk glanced over his shoulder at Orpus Lengbyoi.
“Chelka, I’ll teach you the spell when I get the chance, but it isn’t easy and the exact thoughts for it are difficult too.” Brosk turned and climbed back onto the driver’s platform.
Chelka turned to Edmath as he closed his eyes for a moment. She put an arm around him and he opened them again.
“I’m tired.”
“So am I, Ed. It is nighttime, after all.”
Edmath put his arm around her. In spite of his fears and the rocking of the carriage, he grew sleepy as they passed through the gate and onto the city streets. Chelka laid her head against his shoulder. They fell asleep together.
They moved south rapidly. By dawn, they had left the rain behind and passed out of the Moth Nation. Over the next week, they proceeded down roads past harvested fields and hills covered in orange and brown leaves. Edmath’s pain came and went, but with little to do but rest, he did not have another attack.
He woke on a morning six days from Diar. Snow fell all around them.
Cold air bit at his face. He had been wrapped in a fur blanket, but it only reached up to his chin. Chelka sat on the floor of the carriage in front of him. All he could see when he looked outside the carriage was white snow and gray rock.
“Where are we?”
She leaned close to him and spoke over the rumbling of the cart’s wheels. “We should be close to Dreamwater. Surely we will be there tomorrow.” Coming back from the driver’s board, Brosk crouched in front of him and Chelka. He opened a tear with a single striker ring.
“I saw the mirache above us in the blizzard.” He grunted as his magic lit up and grew warmer in the center of the cart’s floor. “It has to be him. Ursar Kiet.”
“Is he following us?” Edmath asked, through his parched throat. He coughed. “Water?”
Chelka offered him a full skin and he drank from it greedily. Wiping his mouth, he stretched his legs so his sandals and toes stuck into the magic Brosk had released. He drew in some of it and focused on simply holding the power, the acute senses. He gave a calm sigh and set his head against the pads piled on the backboard. She slipped away from him and said something to Brosk but he only heard it blearily. Pain began to return, but he held on and watched the sky through the gaps in Lengbyoi’s branches. Eventually, he sank away into sleep once again.
A creeping sensation came from within Edmath’s belly. The cursed sphere bulged and shrank, changing shape to fit within smaller and smaller areas, spreading its malignant touch through him. He knew it was happening even as he woke once again, this time, alert and in pain. Brosk crouched beside him, hands folded together. The pain receded until it seemed cat-sized, small enough to ignore.
He looked toward the light in front of him. Chelka stood on the driver’s board, with her back to him and Brosk. A coat concealed most of her form, but Edmath could see her stethian in her raised hand.
“I just used the suppression spell.” Brosk shook gently Edmath by the shoulder. “We’ve reached the edge of Dreamwater.”
Edmath blinked and sat up. His hand found the sideboard and he pushed himself to his feet. Cold wind blew through the opening at the front of the cart as Edmath joined Chelka on the driver’s board. She glanced at him.
“Are you alright?”
“Brosk’s spell works.”
A roar came from above him, bestial and incomprehensible.
He scanned the blue sky slashed here and there with thin wisps of cloud.
“What’s going on?”
Chelka didn’t answer. She held up a hand to silence him and craned her neck, looking for something in the sky. Finally, she whispered a single word.
“Mirache.”
Orpus Lengbyoi’s branches hung heavy with ice. Snow filled the crooks on its trunk. Beyond the tree, a vast plain of ice and snow stretched out before them, the Dreamwater, frozen over with winter. Edmath squinted against the glare of the sun on the snow. The village of Beliu came into view on the far bank, smoke rising from chimneys all along its dark streets. Edmath looked up again as he heard voices, sibilant, and familiar.
“He is moving, master.”
“Prey.”
“Enemy.”
Edmath’s eyes flicked to the right of the carriage as a heavy landing threw up a huge curtain of snow. Out of the whiteness, the six faces of a mirache appeared, snarling, hissing, and glaring at Chelka and Edmath. He raised his hands and scowled at the creature. Brosk joined them on the board.
“Damn it.”
He stared at the mirache as its rider became visible through the billows of snow. Ursar Kiet sat there. He wore a long fur coat of the same Roshi red as his summer cloak and a black woolen cowl.
“Edmath Benisar, I thought you were dead.”
Edmath squinted at Ursar’s dark face.
“You are not the only one. You are also not the only problem I have at the moment.”
Ursar narrowed his eyes as if he didn’t believe Edmath.
“I have heard. Your wife informed me earlier of what happened. I assumed she lied to me simply because I am a Roshi, but I see if there is a sphere in you, it has not killed you yet.” Ursar grinned broadly.
In spite of the cold, Edmath felt as though a Sphere of Fire burned inside him.
“I’m not going to fight you,” Edmath said, hands trembling in the air between him and Ursar. “That duel is over.”
If the Roshi wanted to fight he could do a lot of damage. Chelka had her stethian but Edmath and Brosk did not.
Ursar’s grin didn’t slip a bit.
“I know. You won.”
“Why are you here if not to fight?”
A gust of wind blew past the cart and Edmath shivered. Ursar sat back in his saddle and shrugged his head, eyes merry with inner light.
“I came to find that traitor Kassel Onoi. He isn’t just a criminal in Zel now, you know.”
Chelka leveled her stethian at Ursar, pulling a striker ring out of the pouch at her belt.
“I can’t let you do that,” she said. “We need him first.”
Ursar nodded.
“I figured as much. You know the secret to removing the sphere then. You Zelians sure can be clever when it suits you.”
Chelka tilted her face up and closed one eye, aiming her stethian.
“Are you going to stand aside?”
“Oh, of course,” Ursar said. He leaned forward on the mirache’s back as its heads danced in the still floating powder of snow. “Just don’t take too long, or I’ll have to sink you. You are on a lake, my dear.”
Edmath clenched his hand around the center of his flowing rega. He glared at Ursar.
“Why threaten? You can’t fight all of us at once.”
Ursar shrugged.
“Maybe not, I’ll admit. I’ve fought two of you before, though, so I think I’ve got that much down. The bigger problem is alerting the villagers.” Turning in his saddle, Ursar looked across the lake. Dark shapes were moving on the ice, too distant to be seen with clarity. Edmath stared at them. Ursar folded his arms. “Fair warning, neither of us will be able to get the Worm King if they capture or kill you. They know I’m here already, you see.”
Edmath squinted at the villagers moving across the ice. Some were almost totally humanoid, others less so.
“Then I guess we’re in a bind. I had a plan for this, but it didn’t include you.”
Ursar laughed. He laughed loudly and heartily, shaking from head to toe. After stopping to catch his breath, he looked down and spoke to his mirache in the hawk language.
“You heard the littl
e prey. We’d better get going.”
The mirache took off. The beating of its wings swept more snow off the ground and into the air around it.
“Good luck, Saales.” Ursar laughed again and the mirache circled up past Orpus Lengbyoi and into the cold blue sky.
Looking back across the lake the villagers seemed closer. Edmath reached out and touched Orpus Lengbyoi’s trunk.
“Lengbyoi, take us closer. We want to be as near to the far shore as possible.”
Chelka glanced at him, eyebrows raised.
“Don’t tell me you plan on breaking a hole in the ice.”
“Of course I don’t.” Edmath turned back to her and smiled. “Actually that is the worst thing that could happen to us about now. Orpus Lengbyoi can’t swim, at least not with a cart.”
“Good to know.” Brosk shifted to his whale tosh and drew his striker chain from its coiled place at his hip. His additional weight made the driver’s board creak. “What is the plan?”
“Diplomacy, my good Brosk. We can’t defeat all the villagers. That much is certain.” Edmath looked back out at the dark figures approaching from over the ice. While most of them walked or slithered a few of them floated weightlessly in the air. “I am confident Kassel Onoi would rather talk to us than fight us.”
“Why is that?” Chelka touched Edmath’s arm.
“I think he has an interest in me, maybe even both of us my dear because he gave us these stethians. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he wanted this whole thing to happen, to bring us here.”
The three of them hunkered down as Orpus Lengbyoi picked up the pace, racing over the ice and gliding straight toward the village. The speed was exhilarating, though the carriage slipped too often on the ice for comfort, and the ominous silhouettes of the villagers kept Edmath from laughter. They got within a few score yards of the nearest villagers and about halfway across the lake. Edmath pushed his glasses up his nose.
“Stop now, Lengbyoi. We’ll let them come to us.”
Orpus Lengbyoi did not reply but immediately ceased dragging itself and simply slid a few paces further forward on the ice before coming to a complete stop. The villagers swarmed around them, appearing greater in number now than they had at a distance. They reached Orpus Lengbyoi’s trunk and brushed against the sides of the cart, rocking it from side to side. With a loud cry, one of the airborne village men with an elongated body and bald head landed just above Edmath on one of Lengbyoi’s branches. He looked down at the three of them on the driver’s board.
“You Saales have come for the master, didn’t you?”
“Not just Saales.” Edmath looked up at the villager, meeting the man’s beady black eyes. “We are diplomats, come to reason with Kassel Onoi. There is no need for hostilities unless he desires them.”
“Which he does not.” The bald villager gave a thick cough. “Can we trust you, Edmath Benisar?”
“If we can trust you, you can surely trust me.” Edmath touched Chelka’s arm and she lowered the stethian she had been aiming at the villagers at the base of the cart. “I speak for all of us here, when I say that we mean you no harm.”
“Why did you seek us out, then, Saale? We hate Saales. Hate.”
“Why?”
“Saales betrayed our village and began our tragedy.”
Edmath nodded.
“We are not the same as those. We came here to bargain with your master.”
“Then you will come with us, Edmath who speaks for his friends. Leave one, bring one, and follow me to the village.”
Chelka glanced at Brosk. Brosk gave her a huge nod.
“You two go. I’ll be fine.”
Edmath started to climb down from the cart. Chelka followed him to the side of the driver’s board. Brosk bowed his whale head as Edmath reached the icy surface of the lake.
“I will remain here as your hostage, then.”
“Good. You understand.” The villager floated off the branch and drifted toward Edmath. Thin tendrils of blackened flesh crept out from holes in the bulging back of his tunic. “Benisars, follow.”
The walk across the frozen lake was cold and full of slips and stumbles for Edmath. Chelka walked beside him and the villagers all around them, in every direction. They were small and large, children and grown, but none of them gave anything but the most hate-filled looks at Edmath and Chelka. When they finally reached the first buildings, Edmath shivered as yet more villagers, twisted and distorted, floated and crept around them. They made their way through the cold streets and to a longhouse of logs in the center of the village. There, in a black cloak and with a long scabbard on his belt, stood Kassel Onoi, in the doorway of a high-roofed house of logs. The sun rose high in the sky, pale beyond the house and partially blanketed by clouds.
He strode down the steps of the building, blinking in the snow’s reflected glare.
“Edmath Donroi, now Benisar. I almost hoped they wouldn’t send you to carry out my execution. Some wishes are not to be granted.” He turned his back on them without another word and opened the log house’s door.
Edmath and Chelka made their way up the steps after him. No villagers dared approach, Edmath supposed. Kassel Onoi was their master, but in spite of this, or possibly because of it, they made no move to follow.
Inside the log house was a single huge room with a massive fire pit in the center and floorboards made out of black wood. The fire pit smoldered with a few remaining coals, lighting and warming the room. Chelka walked along the wall and touched the logs with her outstretched hand, but Edmath followed Kassel Onoi directly to the dying fire. The lines in the former Worm King’s face looked very deep in the shadows. He turned and reached out to Edmath, taking his arm by the wrist.
“Do you know why I’d rather another man kill me?”
Edmath didn’t answer. He needed to find a way to explain his plan to this King with no nation, but somehow interrupting him seemed wrong. Kassel released his arm and sighed.
“You know I was a friend of your father’s. I told you that. What I didn’t tell you, was how your father died.” Kassel sniffed the air in complete but distant sorrow. “He died fighting for me. Fighting against a terrible enemy beyond our borders. I, as well as every man and woman in my personal legion, owes him a great debt.”
“What does that matter now?” Edmath set his face to a determined scowl. “Of course, yesterday my father was your friend, but today your creature is inside me and soon will take my life.”
“Ah, so the rumor is true.” Kassel sighed as he stared down at the coals. “I can help you. Did you know that?”
Edmath nodded.
“We did not come here to kill you, Lord Onoi.”
Kassel Onoi shrugged his broad shoulders and looked up at Edmath. He said not a word for what seemed like too long. Edmath could feel the magic Brosk had worked on him fading. Pain began to build slowly from his belly. He needed relief from the terrible creature in his belly but could not bring himself to break the silence.
Chelka’s voice spoke into his ear as a whisper. She had crept up behind him, but now she was done being sneaky.
“Don’t wait. We need him now.”
Edmath blinked as she stepped back from him. Kassel Onoi raised his eyes from what Edmath had thought would be an eternal stare at the tiny flame building again in the coals and locked gazes with Chelka. She bowed her head in his direction.
“Help my husband, Worm King.”
“Please.” Edmath turned and looked at Kassel’s face. He had changed somehow, putting on a different kind of crown. Edmath closed his eyes and pictured the terrible creature growing inside him. He opened his eyes and glared at Kassel. “You must help me.”
Kassel Onoi took a deep breath, a long breath, a breath like drawing in magic.
“I know, Edmath.”
“You know? Why?”
“My people, the Worm Tribe, are lost to me. You see, I was raised to know how to be a king, but I have no illusions about this. I cannot rule in Z
el any longer, and this is where my people belong. No.” Kassel Onoi shut his eyes and whispered his next words. “They are not my people. My people are here around me, though I am not yet one of them.”
“The villagers.” Edmath felt a surge of revulsion as he pictured the malformed people, distorted and twisted in every way he could imagine. “Did you teach them to hate Saales?” He narrowed his eyes.
Kassel Onoi put a hand on his shoulder.
“They think Saales did this to them. The rivalry of Saales and the nation of Roshi goes so deep, can you honestly say what the Roshis do is not partially the fault of the Saales?”
“Everyone knows of our rivalry with the Dawkun. The rest? I’m not sure. The villagers hate us, so be it.”
“Do you hate them back?”
Edmath shrugged off Kassel’s hand.
“I fear them.”
“The Roshi did this to them with the help of another people, the same ones who your father died fighting. Those others raised them as their own, but when they returned to Zel I made them mine.”
Chelka walked up on Edmath’s left and caught Kassel Onoi’s eye.
“It’s unfair, isn’t it? These people have been taken by others, but never have others given them anything but pain.”
“Well spoken, Lady Benisar.” Kassel Onoi looked up at Edmath. He let out a mighty breath. “I still have enemies beyond these borders. The enemies of my new people.”
“Who are these enemies?” Chelka asked.
“No one believes the words of a traitor. I knew that if I did not succeed in my coup against the High Emperor I would never be able to make Zel see. Before Zel and Roshi there was one nation, and in that nation were tribes and animals never considered royalty since its fall. A single sphere of humanity sufficed for the entire nation.”
“But that would be a massive nation,” said Edmath. “Larger than Zel and Roshi assembled.”
“Indeed. Zel and Roshi are only part of the mighty empire that was Old Zel.”
Edmath scowled.
“What happened to the other tribes? The ones no longer royal in Zel or Roshi?”
“They still exist, in exile.”
“Where?”
“How would a Saale put it. Beyond the curtains of life, they found a new home. I have seen it, but I do not expect you to believe me. They wield pure magic that exists everywhere in that realm.”
Spells of the Curtain Volume One Page 30