Into Vushaar

by Robert M Kerns

  Xask stared at Gavin in silence for several moments before saying, “I almost begrudge the time it will take to introduce you to the Council of Clans. You need to meet with our arcanists as soon as possible.”

  Chapter 6

  Gavin was used to people reacting to him—specifically his House—with awe and unease, but those experiences did not prepare him in the slightest for the reactions of the people as Xask led him and his friends through the streets to meet with the leadership of the Thirteen Clans. First, the moment they saw the Glyph of Kirloth, they knelt to one knee and bowed their heads. Then, after Gavin and company passed, they stood and watched until Gavin walked out of sight. Some even followed the group. By the time they reached the cupola-styled pavilion that Xask indicated was their destination, a sizeable following had developed in their wake.

  Fifteen stone chairs formed a semi-circle around one side of the pavilion, and the first thing Gavin noticed was that one chair was crumbled and blackened. Another chair sat empty. Thirteen dracons filled the remaining seats.

  Xask whispered for Gavin to wait until she called for him. She stepped forward into the cupola and bowed deeply to the assembled clan leaders.

  “Honored Leaders,” Xask said, “I have returned with one who can repair our sky.”

  “That is good,” one of clan leaders said. “The illness is spreading. More young ones are becoming sick, even those who have been outside.”

  Another clan leader said, “We trust you did not inform whoever you brought of his or her fate once the work is complete. We could not trust their work if they know they will die upon completion.”

  Gavin heard some gasps behind him. One of them sounded like Kiri. He wasn’t about to allow a group of people he didn’t even know to contemplate killing him and his people. Even if he were not Kirloth now, that just wouldn’t be permissible.

  “Honored-”

  Before Xask could complete her statement, Gavin stepped into the cupola, saying, “There’s a problem with your death sentence.”

  Seven of the clan leaders erupted to their feet without paying full attention to Gavin. One of them said, “How dare you interrupt our deliberations! You have no place here!”

  “If you think I will stand and await an introduction to a group of people planning my death after asking for my help, you’re more senile than you look. You better think long and hard about deciding you’ll try to kill me and mine. I don’t respond well to threats, and I don’t do half measures.”

  “You stand deep within our territory, human,” another standing clan leader said, his voice sneering even if his facial muscles couldn’t carry through on the expression. “Do you think you’ll ever leave here alive?”

  Gavin stepped into the cupola and lifted his left hand, cupping it as if holding an apple. Within a heartbeat, an orb of iridescent power hovered in the air above his palm, its color shifting like a kaleidoscope almost faster than the eye could follow.

  “I think I’m prepared to burn myself out eradicating your race from the world, if you persist in this heedless fallacy, and I promise you…you’ll die first.”

  At this point, a shred of wisdom entered one of the leader’s minds, albeit one who was still seated, and she lowered her eyes to examine Gavin’s medallion. Her eyes widened, and she fell from her seat to the floor, kneeling and pressing her head against the marble flagstones. Her actions were so pronounced and startling that the other clan leaders examined Gavin, searching for what inspired such a reaction. Those still seated processed what their eyes showed them faster than their enraged counterparts, and they too prostrated themselves before Gavin.

  “How dare you dishonor yourselves before some corrupted outsider!” Xask’s own clan leader said, his voice harsh and loud. The spectacle had already carried to the crowd that had followed Gavin and his friends through the streets, and it didn’t require exceptional hearing to notice the angry whispers stalking back and forth through the crowd like a hungry predator. Those ‘common’ people knew who those leaders disrespected, and everyone was so focused on the spectacle in the cupola to notice members of the crowd sending runners off into the city.

  “You dishonor all of us!” Xask said, moving to stand snout-to-chest with her clan leader and glaring up at him. “Has all sense left you? You threaten the Scion of the Liberator! I am appalled to know you carry my blood. No recompense imaginable can erase the dishonor you’ve dealt our clan…and our people.”

  “None of the Liberator’s line exists in the world, old crone,” the leader of Clan Qar’Kirloth growled, staring down at Xask. “Your age has addled your wits and allowed this charlatan to deceive you. This impertinence is only the latest of your offenses, and I shall take much enjoyment seeing you staked at last.”

  Gavin eyed the clan leader, and he detested what he saw. He turned his head to the right and said over his shoulder, “Lillian, bring the others and stand on either side of me. Declan, the elves, and Kiri stay back in the shadows.”

  Mariana and Wynn soon stood on Gavin’s left side, and Lillian and Braden stood on Gavin’s right.

  “I suppose some would say it’s not my place to butt into what is an internal matter,” Gavin said, “but I appreciate Xask since we met earlier this morning. I’m not sure what these ‘offenses’ you mentioned are, but until I have a clear understanding, nobody’s staking anyone.

  “In all truth, you are correct; I am not in the direct line of the man your people call the Liberator. However, I am the distant descendant of his brother Gerrus, the brother who took his family to the Refugee World, and the Liberator himself trained me in the Art by after he named me his heir.”

  Gavin stepped forward and, moving Xask aside, reached up and delivered a backhand slap to the clan leader. The shock of the strike drove the clan leader’s snout to the side, more than the strength of the blow, and he turned to face Gavin, his nostrils flaring.

  “You are an affront to all decency and civilized behavior,” Gavin said, “and I challenge you.”

  “You insolent worm! How dare you strike me! I’ll kill you right-”

  “You cannot,” a new voice spoke. Gavin turned to look and saw the six clan leaders who had prostrated themselves now standing. It was the female who first prostrated herself that spoke. “He has challenged you. You must accept his challenge or refuse it. No other actions are permitted.”

  “That is not entirely true,” another clan leader said. This speaker was a male, short for a Dracon and stooped with age. “We must determine the truth of this man’s identity before the challenge can be accepted or denied. It is a matter of our oldest traditions. If this man is indeed of the Liberator’s line…well…that would force us on a different path, and the challenge would be void.”

  “How so?” Gavin asked, oblivious to the seething dracon standing not even a foot away from him.

  “It is a matter of the oldest traditions that the Liberator and all those of his line are sacred to our people and to be rendered all the honors our people can conceive. If you are who you appear to be, these clan leaders have egregiously violated that tradition, and there can only be one response.”

  “And how do we prove I am who I appear to be?”

  “I am ancient even among our kind,” the stooped clan leader said. “I’ve studied the ancient texts of our home’s founding. If you will permit me, I shall prick your flesh with a claw and ask you to touch one of our pavilion’s pillars.”

  Gavin’s right eyebrow quirked upward. “And what will that do?”

  “If you are who you appear to be, the proof will be immediate. If you are not—if you are some charlatan who has managed to fake a House’s medallion after countless centuries—nothing will happen.”

  Gavin shrugged and extended his hand to the dracon. “Sure. Why not? Want to prick my finger or thumb, or do you prefer my palm?”

  The ancient clan leader lifted his left hand and used the claw on his index finger to draw blood on Gavin’s index finger. He gestured to the pillars
of the pavilion. Gavin turned and walked over to the pillar nearest him and pressed his bloody finger to the marble.

  For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

  Just as Xask’s clan leader clenched his fist to proclaim his triumph, a deep THRUM resonated outward from the pavilion, and any wizards in the city felt a powerful Evocation erupt into existence. A bright radiance lit the immediate area around the pavilion as runes lit up along the edges of the streets moving outward through the city from the pavilion. At each intersection, the Glyph of Kirloth appeared twenty feet in the air. This effect radiated outward until the entire cavern was bright as day, lit by countless Glyphs of Kirloth and those runes along the streets.

  Gavin looked at the glyph of his House hovering over the closest intersection, and he stepped out of the pavilion and looked above it. About ten feet above the center of the curved dome, a Glyph of Kirloth—easily thirty feet across—blazed bright. He stepped back inside the pavilion and looked at the ancient clan leader.

  “Was that what was supposed to happen?” Gavin asked.

  The ancient clan leader smiled and nodded once. “It was a protection built into the foundation of our city by the arcanists of the time. They wanted to ensure there could be no question whether the Liberator or one of his House stood before us.”

  “And what happens to them now?”

  The ancient clan leader turned to regard those clan leaders who had surged to their feet in a rage. “For six of them, they will be stripped of their rank and wealth and will serve their clans as best their fellows will allow. I fear they will be little more than pariahs. For the leader of Qar’Kirloth, however, the traditions are clear. His offense is such that no other path than staking is possible.”

  “To the Abyss with you! I will never submit!” the leader of Qar’Kirloth drew a dagger that Gavin or Declan would’ve considered a short sword and lunged at the ancient clan leader.

  Gavin calmly invoked a Word, “Thymnos.” The leader of Qar’Kirloth froze, but his momentum carried him forward in a fall. The ancient clan leader stepped to one side and allowed the disgraced (and paralyzed) clan leader to strike the floor.

  The remaining six clan leaders who had surged to their feet looked at their former associate and sighed almost as one. They removed a mantle from around their shoulders and draped it across the chairs they had vacated. They bowed to the remaining clan leaders, turned to bow to Gavin, and vacated the pavilion.

  Four dracons entered the pavilion, removed the mantle from the paralyzed leader of Qar’Kirloth, and draped that mantle across the clan’s chair before carrying the paralyzed dracon out of the pavilion.

  The remaining clan leaders looked at one another for several moments before the ancient one sighed.

  “We must now fill seven seats. Never in all our history has this ever occurred.”

  Gavin shrugged and pointed at Xask with his left thumb, saying, “Well, I don’t know if it’s any of my business, but Xask seemed to represent your people well on the journey here from our camp.”

  The remaining clan leaders looked to one another in silence for several moments before turning almost as one to regard Xask. At long last, the ancient clan leader turned back to Gavin.

  “We will spend most of the day tomorrow meeting with the clans and organizing replacement clan leaders. I would ask Xask to conduct you and your fellows to the hostel we once maintained for traveling merchants and diplomats. Despite its lack of use over these last six hundred years, we have maintained it in good condition, and you may rest there while you assist us with our sky.”

  Gavin nodded. “Very well. Where will I work on repairing your sky?”

  “Xask will conduct you to the workplace of those who are striving to solve the problem in the morning. I’ve always found it best to begin new projects at dawn.”

  Chapter 7

  The next morning found Gavin and his apprentices standing just inside the doorway of a room large enough to be a classroom. Several chalkboards made of a dark slate hung on wheeled stands around the room. A large rectangular table with rounded corners occupied the center of the space, scrolls and stacks of parchment covering the tabletop. Three dracons stood in front of one chalkboard. From what Gavin could hear, they argued over various methods to repair the sky effect.

  “Good morning,” Gavin said, after standing unnoticed by the dracons for some time.

  The dracons turned almost as one to regard the source of the interruption.

  “Who are you?” the dracon on the left said.

  “And how did you get in here?” the dracon on the right added.

  “I’m surprised you’re still alive,” the center dracon joined the discourse. “We’ve been killing trespassers for a long time now.”

  “My name is Gavin Cross, and I’ve been asked to assist with your sky. These are my friends and apprentices: Lillian, Mariana, Wynn, and Braden.”

  The dracons eyed Gavin in silence for several moments before their eyes widened. They smiled and moved with haste to approach Gavin and his friends.

  “So glad to meet you! Xask said she’d found someone to help, but she didn’t give us any details as to who. I’m Nahskar,” the center dracon said. “This is Ghrax,” indicating the left dracon, “and Ysk,” indicating the right dracon.

  “Have you ever worked with a perpetual effect?” Ghrax asked.

  “That depends on your definition, I suppose. I’ve invoked several composite effects and spent time examining the protections built into the manor wall at the Mivar Estate in Tel Mivar.”

  “Composite effects?” Ysk said. “You’ve invoked composite effects? How is that possible?”

  Gavin almost sighed. He didn’t mind helping the dracons, but he also didn’t want to spend two weeks in needless discussion. Hoping that his full identity would forestall further questions instead of instigating more, he withdrew his wizard’s medallion from within his tunic, dropping it to rest against his sternum. His apprentices did likewise.

  “I was trained in the Art by the man your people term ‘The Liberator,’ and I’m told he was my uncle…albeit many, many times removed. Don’t ask me to teach you any spells, because my mentor only had me work with Words of Power.”

  The dracons stared at Gavin’s medallion in silence for several moments before they examined the medallions of his friends.

  At last, Nahskar spoke. “I remember the day the Clans voted to withdraw from the world and the old alliance. I remember the death of Bellock Vanlon, the last Archmagister, and I remember many years before that. In all my wildest imaginings, I never considered the day would come when Kirloth and his Apprentices would once more walk upon the world together. I know not what brings you to this part of the world, but I assure you we are grateful beyond measure you would take time out of your journey to assist us. Tell us what you need, and you shall have it.”

  Gavin nodded. “You’re welcome, and please, do not feel you have to stand on any ceremony. My name is Gavin, and I’m happy to share what I know.”

  Gavin led everyone over to an unused chalkboard. Ysk provided a collection of chalk with haste, and Gavin wrote ‘Current’ at the top of the chalkboard and underlined it. He then turned to the four humans and three dracons watching him.

  “I think the best way forward is for us to understand the current situation as best we can. It’s apparent that the effect that has served the dracons for millennia is breaking down, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it fails within the year, given the rate of its degradation. Let’s examine that effect and diagram it on this chalkboard behind me, as best we can. We’ll start with our skathos and move on to Divination if we must.”

  The three dracons looked to one another and stepped off to one side, whispering. After the quick conference, Ysk and Ghrax left with some haste as Nahskar returned to the group.

  Gavin turned and made a mark on the chalkboard that looked like a dash or minus sign. He then turned to Lillian, saying, “Lillian, focus on your skathos. Tell me what the sky eff
ect feels like to you.”

  Lillian closed her eyes. After several moments, she said, “It feels like Illusion,” Gavin wrote the rune for Illusion by the dash, “and maybe Divination,” Gavin made a plus sign followed by the rune for Divination, “all wrapped around Conjuration.” Gavin made another plus side and the rune for Conjuration.

  Gavin worked his way through each of his apprentices, getting them to report what their skathos told them about the failing effect and writing that on successive lines. Then, he closed his own eyes and concentrated on his skathos. He didn’t know if his apprentices were not as sensitive as he was or if they had difficulty describing what they felt, but while their descriptions covered the gist of the effect, Gavin felt nuances their descriptions lacked.

  “Okay,” Gavin said and opened his eyes. Seeing there were many more dracons in the room than there had been when he closed his eyes startled him. “Oh…hello.”

  Nahskar stepped forward and said, “Please, forgive us, milord. It has been many years since we had access to anyone trained in Words of Power, and we would very much appreciate you permitting our arcanists to attend this work. It would be very educational.”

  Gavin shrugged, saying, “I don’t mind. It surprised me.” He fell silent for a few moments. “Who all here besides my friends and I would qualify as a wizard?”