Into Vushaar

by Robert M Kerns

  Most of the dracons raised a hand.

  “Okay. Of those, have any received any training in the Art? Do you feel comfortable trying to diagram your sky effect using your skathos?”

  Most of the dracons lowered their hands, but six hands remained in the air.

  “Very well. You’ll work with us. Nahskar, I need enough charcoal and parchment for myself, my friends, and these dracons. Hmmm…I don’t see any chairs. Well, I don’t want to wait while we find some. Nythraex.”

  Every wizard present felt the resonance of Gavin’s invocation slam into them like a rushing wall of ice-cold water. A few dropped to one knee, gasping for air, as chairs made of solid wood with no tool marks or fasteners appeared around the table.

  “Everyone who indicated they felt comfortable diagraming the sky effect, find a seat. Let’s get this party started. The rest of you, gather around and watch.”

  Ghrax and Nahskar hurried to clear the table as Ysk provided charcoal pencils and fresh parchment. They then occupied the last three open seats around the table.

  An hour later, the last dracon finished her diagram, and Gavin collected them. All the diagrams bore many similarities, and a few (including his) were more detailed than the others. Gavin showed all the diagrams to everyone and praised them for their work. He then returned to the ‘Current’ chalkboard, wiped away his earlier writings, and drew a diagram of the existing effect that was a composite of all the diagrams on parchment.

  Once he finished, Gavin turned to the group, saying, “Okay. This is where we are…right now. As you can see, the single greatest flaw to this effect is a lack of an anchor, and I believe that lack is the main reason it’s failing today. Unfortunately, my training and studies have not indicated it’s possible to change such an effect to include an anchor after it’s set, especially this long after it's set, so we will break this apart and construct a new effect, one that is anchored. That effect should serve the dracons well for quite some time to come.”

  “How are we going to break apart the existing effect without causing mass panic among the people?” Nahskar asked, as several dracons nodded. “Yes, we have streetlamps for nighttime, but even patchy and failing as it is, the people are used to seeing the sun above them.”

  “It will have to be a composite effect,” Gavin said. “The first part will dispel the existing effect, while the second will create and anchor the effect that replaces it. We could do it separately, but as you said, people might panic when the cavern goes dark. So, I say we don’t let the cavern go dark.”

  The dracons around the room looked to one another. Gavin wasn’t too adept at reading their facial expressions, but their body language suggested anxiety.

  “Is something wrong?” Gavin asked.

  “As far as I know, none of us have ever worked with composite effects before,” Ghrax said.

  Gavin smiled. “Well…this will be a learning experience for everyone, then.”

  Over the following days, Gavin worked with the dracons and his apprentices to design the effect that would replace the dracons’ failing sky. While he welcomed input from everyone, Gavin treated it as a learning exercise, with most of the final design for the effect being his. Eight days passed while Gavin and the others completed the preparatory work, but at long last, the design was ready.

  Everyone gathered around Gavin and his apprentices as they made ready to invoke the composite effect that would replace the dracons’ sky with a more permanent, more reliable, and more effective solution. The final design revolved around Divination and Transmutation. Using Divination, they would create a specialized scrying sphere that would fill the cavern’s ceiling, and the Transmutation would both bind the effect to the dracon bloodlines and change the scrying sphere to be more of an actual window to the outside sky, instead of just an image of it.

  The final invocation would use four Words: a Word of Tutation to dispel the existing effect, a Word of Divination to create the scrying sphere, a Word of Transmutation to change the scrying sphere into a kind of window or one-way portal, and a Word of Transmutation to anchor the effect to the dracon bloodlines.

  Gavin gestured for his apprentices to assume their positions around him, their right hands touching one of Gavin’s shoulders while their left hands rested on the shoulder of the person to their left. They had practiced speaking in unison in their rooms at night, as Gavin didn’t want anyone to embarrass themselves in front of the dracons.

  “Sound off when you’re ready,” Gavin said.

  “Ready,” Lillian said.

  “Ready,” Braden said.

  “Ready,” Wynn said.

  “Ready,” Mariana said.

  “On my nod,” Gavin said as he closed his eyes and focused on the effect he wanted to create. The picture firm in his mind, Gavin nodded once.

  “Klyphos-Klaepos-Uhnrys-Rhyskaal,” five voices intoned together.

  The massive resonance of the composite effect slammed into every wizard present, driving most to their knees. It affected Gavin the most, the invocation savaging him to the point that he bled from both nostrils as he collapsed to his hands and knees. After a few moments, Gavin forced himself back to his feet and accepted an offered rag to wipe away the blood running down his lips; once his nose stopped bleeding, he whispered another Word, “Idluhn,” to incinerate the bloody rag.

  Looking up to survey their handiwork, Gavin saw no open or fading patches in the effect above the city, and the effect stretched from one edge of the cavern to the others.

  “That is the best our sky has looked in ages,” the ancient clan leader said as he broke through the ranks of those around Gavin and his apprentices. “On behalf of all our people, I thank you.”

  “Well, it’s not without drawbacks,” Gavin said. “You’ll now share in the seasons of the outside world. When it rains outside, it’ll rain here. You’ll have snow as well and, perhaps, even wind.”

  “We’ll have weather?” one dracon nearby asked, her voice filled with awe.

  “Yes. You’ll have weather. I’m glad you build your houses with roofs. That’ll be even more important now.”

  “Come,” the ancient clan leader said. “We have prepared a feast in your honor.”

  Chapter 8

  The next morning, Gavin and company set out from the dracons’ city, and they found themselves surrounded by a rather large escort. They chatted with those dracons closest to them among the throng and made good time through the tunnel. It wasn’t even mid-morning yet when they left the tunnel for the wide-open skies. They bade farewell to the dracons and wended their way out of the foothills, intent on returning to the old trade road that traveled from Mivar Province in Tel to Thartan Province in Vushaar.

  “That was a good thing you did for the dracons,” Elayna said as they rode.

  Gavin nodded. “I suppose there are some who would argue that the dracons are a relic of a time long past, and therefore, we should not have helped them. The thing is, though, they didn’t choose to be made. They didn’t choose to exist. They’re people, just like the rest of us, and if a little effort and a nosebleed are all it takes to ensure they can remain in their ancestral home, I see no reason not to spend that effort and survive that nosebleed.”

  “Grandmother would be pleased.”

  It wasn’t long before Declan once more handed off the reins of his horse to Braden and pulled his lute from his back. Within moments thereof, they traveled to the accompaniment of some of the finest melodies in the known world, strummed by one of the world’s finest bards.

  Days passed, and the party crossed into Vushaar without interference or any sign that the Lornithrasa were once again on their trail. The days were pleasant for traveling, and Declan’s proficiency with the lute made the journey more enjoyable.

  They were four days into Vushaar and camped for the night when a man stumbled into the pine thicket that served as a waystation and their campsite. Sweat soaked every visible surface of his body, and he gasped for air as he collapsed t
o his knees just outside the camp’s ward.

  Gavin, Declan, and Sarres walked to the edge of the ward to see if the man still lived. At their approach, he struggled to lift his head, saying, “May I please have some water?”

  Declan and Sarres looked to Gavin, who nodded, and Declan went back to the camp.

  “What is your name, neighbor?” Gavin asked. “How come you to be this far out?”

  “Forgive me, but I don’t know which side you support,” the man said as he pushed himself to his knees. “I’d rather not go into any detail. I’m much obliged for the water.”

  It was then that Declan and Kiri returned with a small jug of water. Declan stopped at Gavin’s side, and Kiri stepped to the edge of the ward to pass the jug to the man.

  “Thank you, young-” The man froze as he lifted his eyes to the woman handing him the water jug. His eyes bulged, and he was on his feet in an instant, his hand going for the dagger at his side. “Run, Princess! I’ll hold them off!”

  Sarres drew his own blade and moved to leap to Kiri’s defense.

  “Hold fast, Sarres,” Gavin said and focused his gaze on the dagger. “Zyrhaek.” A slight tightening of his eyes was the only sign Gavin felt any pain whatsoever as the man’s dagger fell away as iron filings and leather wrapping.

  “You mind explaining why you’d pull a blade on my friend…especially after we’ve been kind enough to share our water?” Gavin said, moving up to stand beside Kiri.

  “Friend?” the man said. “You’re no friend; you’re her captors!”

  The man lunged forward and made a grab for Kiri. Gavin sighed and took a step back. The moment the man reached the perimeter of the ward, glowing runes appeared in the ground at the perimeter’s edge. There was a crackling sound as a shimmering wall of lightning rose from the runes, and a spark erupted out to strike the man in his chest. The man crumpled to the ground without even a cry. A small thunderclap rumbled across the camp, and Gavin, Kiri, Declan, and Sarres could smell a faint trace of ozone.

  “Is he…dead?” Kiri asked, her hand flying to her mouth.

  Gavin shook his head, saying, “Of course not. Well, not unless he has a weak heart. Declan, do you mind checking him?”

  The bard stepped outside the ward and knelt at the man’s side. He pressed fingers to the man’s neck and nodded. “He lives, just like you said.”

  “Very well. Bring him inside the ward. Your wardstone should protect him as long as some part of your skin touches his.”

  Without another word, Gavin turned and walked back to the campfire.

  “Was that a lightning strike?” Mariana asked as Gavin returned.

  Gavin shook his head. “Someone collapsed outside the ward and asked for water. When he saw Kiri, he went all weird, calling her ‘Princess’ and acting like we were her captors. He lunged at Kiri, and the ward shocked him into unconsciousness.”

  Gavin resumed his seat on a felled log as Sarres and Kiri arrived, Declan a few moments behind them. Declan laid the man down next to the logs and sat across the fire from Gavin. Sarres went to Elayna’s side, and Kiri stood at the edge of the rough circle made by the felled logs. Her eyes scanned all those present, but they lingered on Gavin.

  The silence that descended on the camp as Gavin and Kiri looked at one another was heavy and almost awkward. When no one spoke, Gavin broke the silence.

  “So, ‘Princess,’ is it?” he asked.

  “Gavin-” Lillian said.

  “No, Lillian. It’s time,” Kiri said. She moved to sit on the unoccupied log, at a forty-five-degree angle to Gavin’s right, and released a heavy sigh. “Gavin, my full name is Kiri Muran.”

  Gavin blinked. “So, this Terris that Valera asked me to help?”

  “My father. He knew the civil war was coming, and he sent me to Tel…to be safe, of all things. I never knew who I was supposed to meet on the Tel Mivar docks; we never made it that far.”

  “From his reaction, I’m guessing your people think you dead with the rest of your ship’s people,” Gavin said. “This might complicate things.”

  Then, scanning the faces of his fellow travelers, Gavin realized something. Only Mariana, Wynn, and Braden shared his surprise. He locked eyes with Declan, saying, “You knew?”

  Declan remained silent for a few moments before nodding once. “Yes.”

  Gavin shifted his attention to Lillian. “And you?”

  “I found out during those days you were gone…after Marcus,” Lillian said.

  “I recognized her from a visit to Vushaar I made with my sister,” Elayna said, drawing Gavin’s attention.

  Gavin’s eyes flicked to Sarres, who shrugged and said, “I had no idea who she was, if it matters. There just isn’t too much that surprises me anymore.”

  Gavin nodded and looked at the unconscious man on the fringe of the camp. “So, who’s he?”

  Kiri shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen him before in my life. Gavin, I-”

  “It’s okay, Kiri. Don’t worry about it.” Gavin pushed himself to his feet and walked toward the horses’ picket.

  Kiri rose to follow him, but Declan speared her with a glance and shook his head.

  Gavin found himself standing beside Jasmine. He retrieved the brush he’d used to groom her when they made camp and started brushing her down again. She didn’t seem to mind the second brushing.

  A part of him wanted to feel betrayed that his friends had known such a crucial piece of information about Kiri and had not shared it with him. He especially wanted to be angry with Declan, who served him as one of his Wraiths. The Wraiths were supposed to provide him with information after all.

  The longer he worked with Jasmine and considered the matter, though, he realized they had acted just as he would. Elayna probably assumed he already knew, and besides, the elves were so new to their group that Gavin didn’t blame either of them for not saying much. They were still developing the mutual trust already enjoyed between everyone else. No…if he had known about Kiri’s background, Gavin would’ve considered it her story to tell. He would’ve let the decision of who knew rest on Kiri’s shoulders.

  Tired of brushing down Jasmine, Gavin returned the brush to the saddlebag and stepped over to the food stores, retrieving an apple. Jasmine’s interest in the apple was rather apparent.

  “Hold on. I’m going to cut it for you first,” Gavin said, though Jasmine gave him a look that suggested she wasn’t too worried about whether he cut it up first or not. The small knife Gavin carried on his belt made short work of quartering the apple, and Gavin placed one quarter in his palm and held his hand out to Jasmine as flat as he could make it. The apple disappeared in a chomp and a slight brushing of her lips against Gavin’s hand.

  “I thought you might like that,” Gavin said, offering another apple quarter in his left hand as he reached his right hand back to rub Jasmine’s neck.

  The fourth apple quarter had just disappeared when Gavin heard footsteps behind him. He looked over his shoulder and saw Mariana a slight distance away.

  “He’s waking up, Gavin.”

  “All right,” Gavin said, before turning back to Jasmine. “I’ve got to go. Have a good night, okay?”

  Jasmine chuffed and pushed her nose against Gavin’s chest.

  Gavin turned and saw Mariana staring at him. He quirked his eyebrow in a silent question.

  “It is almost scary sometimes how you seem to communicate with that horse.”

  Gavin chucked as he passed Mariana on the way back to the campfire. “Jasmine’s a good friend. I guess you could say we bonded while traveling after Marcus’s death.”

  Gavin returned to the campfire and found the man sitting on the ground, leaning against one of the felled logs and looking wild around the eyes.

  “So, neighbor…care to explain why you tried to attack my friend?”

  “Attack?” the man said, frowning his confusion. “No. I tried to free her.”

  “Well, I can promise you she’s as free as she’
ll ever be until I find a way to remove that brand from her shoulder. I don’t care whether you believe me or not, but you’ve not made the best impression. I must confess that I’m conflicted. Part of me wants to kick your ass out of our camp and ask my Elven associate to bombard you with arrows until he can’t see you anymore. Another part of me wants to have another associate spend some effort and sweat digging a shallow grave outside the ward, and the last part of me just wants to say, ‘hell with it all,’ and go to sleep. I know which option I favor, but I’m a little curious about your vote.”

  “I…I can’t die yet. I need to reach Governor Zentris in Thartan.”

  Kiri looked up at that. “Why do you need to reach Uncle Zen? Who are you?”

  The man licked his lips as a nervous tic and pulled his eyes away from Gavin. “Your Highness,” he said, “my name is Seb, and I serve your grandfather as a stable-hand. The Roensils are using the upheaval of the civil war to make a grab for your family’s land. The settlement the old king forced on them has never sat well, and frankly, they seem to be expecting your father to lose. Master Claymark sent me to Thartan to alert Governor Zentris and beg aid. How many days until I reach the city?”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re not where you think you are,” Gavin said, before shifting his attention to Declan. “We crossed into Vushaar…what…four days ago now?”

  Seb looked like he wanted to faint. “You mean I’ve been heading north?”

  Declan nodded. “We’re at least a week from Thartan, maybe two…and that’s if we ride hard.”

  Seb slumped against the log, his expression forlorn and dejected. “I’ve failed. I’ll never be able to bring back help in time.”

  “Gavin,” Kiri said, “may I speak with you?”

  Gavin pulled his attention away from Seb to face Kiri. He saw the angst on her face and suspected he knew what she wanted to say. He nodded and followed her to the far side of the campfire.