Stavius

by Gregory Cholmondeley

  “Yes sir,” said Janus with a fake salute. “Do you always have to take command?”

  “No, but I didn’t think we had time for a discussion,” Stavius said. “Do you have a better idea?”

  “Nope,” answered Janus. “I was just making an observation. I’ll meet you by the dragon cage at dusk.”

  They joined the group of tourists and Janus quickly transformed into a middle-aged man. A few minutes later he had joined the afternoon tour group and was climbing on a horse-drawn cart heading out of the valley. Larsa looked slightly confused but sat down on a bench a discreet distance away from Stavius as he rested near the far end of the dragon cage near the sign describing Bruno the dragon’s species, age, and breeding range. Stavius was searching for a distraction to avoid thinking about the disembodied voice in his head and his next task.

  “Your friends are correct. You should focus on stealing the talismans rather than trying to rescue them and, you are still being watched,” rumbled the deep voice. “For some reason, she seems to have more of an interest in you than in your friend. They almost bumped into each other, but she didn’t seem to notice.”

  Stavius sighed. “So, you’re still here, eh? Well, my friend is a lot better at illuding disguises than I am,” thought Stavius. “Now, who are you and how do you know about the talismans?”

  “My name is unimportant. You would not recognize it anyway,” answered the voice in Stavius’ head. “I have excellent hearing and have used it to listen to your conversation. I also have a desire to harm the seven families and know far more about the talismans than you. I can help you. Do you even know why you are trying to steal them?”

  “Yes, of course,” thought Stavius. “We’re fulfilling the prophecy.”

  “And what will you do with those seven talismans once you’ve obtained them?” asked the voice.

  “Um, I’m not sure,” admitted Stavius.

  “Have you ever read the full prophecy?” asked the voice.

  “Um, well, no. Not really,” thought Stavius.

  “So, you’re risking your life to steal seven, precious and sacred artifacts, to give to people you don’t know, all because of a prophecy you’ve never, actually seen?” asked the voice in a somewhat sarcastic tone.

  Stavius was becoming uncomfortable, suspecting that this was part of some sort of seductive trap. However, some of these questions had been teasing around the back of his mind for a while.

  “And, despite your apparent age, do you know why they typically choose to send thirteen-year-olds on such a critical and dangerous mission?” asked the voice.

  “Because hosts and visitors can only join in their primes,” replied Stavius, thankful that he finally knew an answer.

  Stavius heard a loud snort followed by the voice in his head saying, “But if that were true, then why not send people who were seventeen, or nineteen, or twenty-three? Surely, they would be stronger and more skilled than you. And why only four or five of you? Why not an entire army?”

  Stavius was lost. He had wondered the same thing ever since he had heard of the prophecy. It just didn’t make any sense, so he didn’t reply.

  “You know the answer,” the voice said after a few minutes. “You just demonstrated it to me a moment ago.”

  Now Stavius was confused. He thought back to the past half hour and couldn’t think of anything that stood out. He did take charge and give instructions to Janus and the girls, but did he really do it better than an older boy?

  The voice explained. “Thirteen is the prime age where you have enough skills and independence to do the job while still believing everything an adult tells you. Anyone older would ask these questions and more. Older hosts would also be disinclined to suddenly quit their jobs, abandon their families, and shirk their responsibilities for a year. Your hosts might miss their parents, but you’re too young to have the kinds of responsibilities that cannot be abandoned.”

  “So, you’re saying we’re recruited because we’re suckers,” moaned Stavius.

  “I am unfamiliar with the term but, judging from your emotions, I would say yes,” answered the voice.

  “And why do you care?” asked Stavius, suspiciously. He didn’t like the voice’s answer, but it kind of made sense. “Why do you want us to steal the talismans?”

  “Because those talismans are destroying this region,” came the reply with an intense blast of anger.

  “But there’s more,” pushed Stavius. “You don’t just care about the environment.”

  “Yes, I do care about our home but, you’re right. It’s also to hurt those families. My ancestors transformed this whole region from a magic wasteland into a verdant paradise. Then these greedy families migrated here and abused the powers they discovered for their own personal gain,” roared the voice with pure hatred.

  “But there’s more,” said Stavius. “This is personal.”

  “You have no idea, human,” growled the voice.

  “You’re Bruno the dragon!” exclaimed Stavius, with a sudden realization. “You’ve been their prisoner for years, and you are pissed!”

  “DO NOT CALL ME BRUNO! MY NAME IS SAIPH!” roared the voice as a cloud of smoke blasted out of the dragon’s cave.

  Stavius jumped back in fear and saw that Larsa had as well. Several other people had seen the smoke and were running toward the aviary with hopes of a rare glimpse of Bruno, their beloved dragon.

  Saiph spoke in Stavius’ mind after a few minutes. “My apologies little one. You are correct that I have over a hundred years of reasons to want to destroy these families. I care little about your prophecy, but I will help you destroy these families and their talismans in whatever ways I can. You have an opportunity, but there is little time to prepare. Return later tonight with your friend and without your admirer so we can discuss my plan.”

  “So, you have a plan, huh? And now you’re suggesting that I should blindly trust a dragon I’ve never even seen,” thought Stavius. “That’s awfully convenient.”

  Another snort and cloud of smoke erupted from the cave. “You are learning, young one,” laughed the dragon. “I have been doing little else than planning how to destroy these people for a hundred years. Come tonight, and I will show myself, but you are correct: You must choose whether or not to trust me with very little time or information. Now, leave me and don’t return before nightfall.”

  Stavius turned to walk away as even more people were elbowed their way up front for a chance to glimpse the dragon, despite the drizzle becoming a steady rain. He saw Larsa staring at him from the edge of the crowd but didn’t indicate that he saw her as he left the park. He should have been planning how to lose her but was thinking about how his world had changed in the past few months. Just today he had narrowly escaped a vampire, met five kids his own age who were scheduled to be executed in two days, had a telepathic conversation with a dragon, and yet he seemed to be taking it all in stride. He was lost in these thoughts as he stepped off the curb to cross the street.

  Chapter 19

  The Marketplace

  “Stavius, is that you?” rang a sweet woman’s voice from behind, accompanied by an almost uncontrollable urge for Stavius to turn around.

  It was Larsa, and Stavius knew she was very aware of his identity and that she was also broadcasting his intense desire to reply. He pretended not to hear her, put his head down, and trotted across the street. He didn’t want Larsa to know that he was aware of her presence. A plan began to form as Stavius jogged back up the hill they had come down earlier. He turned left at the next crossroads in an attempt to lose her in Mill Town.

  Mill Town was a densely populated, low-lying area between the Admian and Ringheld castles. It was the place where most of the city’s workers lived, and consisted of one-, two- and sometimes three-story apartment buildings and budget shops crammed together in a deep valley. The roads were narrow, and the crowds were growing as people began emerging from their midday siestas. Stavius saw them jostling down the street, avoiding pud
dles, but staying dry as the rain was magically diverted around their bodies and he wished for magical abilities like that for the millionth time.

  Stavius darted left down a side street and broke into a run. He turned right down a narrow lane and dashed three more blocks. He then slipped into a narrow alley between two low buildings and peered out while he caught his breath. A mere minute or two later he saw Larsa jogging down the street and stopping in front of the fence.

  Stavius drew back into the shadows and, although he could see Larsa peering through the gap in the fence, she apparently couldn’t see him. She stepped back, banged the wall with her fist, and muttered something he couldn’t understand. Then she charged off around the building, and Stavius realized he was trapped. The alley was an excellent hiding and spying place, but there was only one entrance into a very confined space. He looked around and realized that the only way out was up.

  Stavius chimneyed up the walls of the two buildings and clambered onto the roof of the one on his right. It had a flat terrace on top with a small table and a few chairs for the owners to get some fresh evening air. No one was home now, although Stavius could hear someone banging on the building’s back door. He wondered how she could know where he was for a moment until he heard glass shatter and knew she was breaking in to get him.

  He ran across the building and onto the roofs of the two neighboring houses. There was another alley past the third building. It was a little wider than the one Stavius had shimmied up, but he knew he could jump it. He sprinted over the final roof and leaped across the alley. He cleared the distance but was still scared by the experience and sat to catch his breath and steady his nerves for a minute. The roofs were getting slippery from the rain, and he knew he had to find another route.

  Stavius looked up and saw Larsa running across the roofs towards him. She saw him and shouted, “Stavius wait! I just want to talk to you!” But Stavius knew that anyone willing to exert this amount of effort stalking and chasing him wanted far more than simple conversation. He stood up and ran to the far side of the building. He was on a terrace similar to the first house, but this one had an outside set of stairs descending to the street. He glanced back to see Larsa ranting on the far rooftop. The alley was too broad for her to jump and she was going to have to backtrack to find a way down.

  Stavius continued down the stairs and ran along the side street toward the main road. He was running away from where he needed to go this afternoon, but Stavius knew that he needed to lose Larsa first. He might have gained a few minutes of a lead on her, but she somehow knew how to find him. He had to find a way to get enough time to figure out how she was tracking him, and that wasn’t going to happen as long as he continued to jump from roof to roof.

  Stavius reached the main road, turned left towards the river, and froze. There, in front of him, was the most massive structure he had ever seen in his life. Its architecture was similar to the Admian tree castle, but it was many times larger. This must be the new marketplace the Admians and Ringhelds had been building. The tree structure was hundreds of feet tall, rising out of a trunk situated in the corner of an expanse vast enough to easily fit six football fields. The branches were cantilevered over the entire area and contained pods resembling leaves to shade the marketplace below. Staven had heard rumors that these bunches of leaves were actually residences and offices for the wealthy friends of the Admians and Ringhelds, but he had never believed those tales. He had thought that no building could be that large. Now those stories seemed very plausible.

  The whole structure was built to resemble a gigantic, windswept tree and was supported by a massive flow of magical energy. There was absolutely no way anything that size could span such an incredible distance, all in one direction, without magical support. The more interesting aspect to Stavius at the moment, though, was the tall construction fence that encircled the entire area. It was built to keep curious onlookers out but did have a few gaps which Stavius could tell were merely illusions. He slipped through one of these hidden gaps and hoped that Larsa was not able to see through the illusions. The sheer size of the place should give him a little breathing room to think before she found a way in.

  He ran across the construction site to the structure’s trunk. There was still a lot of construction needed before it would be ready to open, but Stavius could tell that the central pillar was, in fact, designed to be a sort of mall of shops. He climbed the broad, circular staircase in the middle of the trunk and walked out onto the open floor. No workers were around today, and Stavius assumed that they were being used to prepare for Luna Fest instead.

  He had barely sat down when he saw Larsa pacing around the perimeter of the site. She now looked more like an animal prowling than a woman searching for a friend and a shiver went up Stavius’ spine. How could she be following him? She knew where he was even when she couldn’t see him. She seemed much too far away to be using smell. She had to be using some sort of magical tracking device.

  Stavius’ eyes flashed wide as he thrust his hand in his pocket and pulled out the calling card Larsa had handed him at the Travelers’ Den. He saw the names of her Clothton and Septumcolis offices with the little compass arrows on it and noticed numbers below the compasses. Stavius’ Earth memories made him think that these were addresses, but he also knew that no one used addresses on Mearth and, besides, they were just numbers. There were no street names.

  Stavius looked out at the increasing downpour and was glad he had a roof over his head for the moment. He could no longer see all the way across the construction site and did not know where Larsa was standing. He hoped she had taken shelter until the rain ended as he paced in circles around the third floor of the mall. He looked at the card again and froze. The arrows seemed different.

  Stavius slowly walked in a small circle while staring at the card. Bang! He kicked a bucket, spilling some sort of viscous, muddy water and stubbing his toe. “Ow!” he shouted in pain, but he was still staring at the card in newfound understanding. The arrows moved as he moved and he guessed that they always pointed towards the two shops. He also speculated that the numbers below them were some sort of distance measurements, probably paces.

  His hands were shaking as he turned over the card to the side containing Larsa’s name. The number below her compass was much smaller than the numbers on the other side of the card, and the arrow was moving! Stavius saw it rapidly swing from left to right and suspected that it was pointing toward Larsa checking for hidden breaks along the far fence. He also theorized that she might know the card’s location if this card knew hers.

  The arrow stopped moving just as he had this epiphany and Stavius thought that perhaps she had found shelter and decided to wait out the storm. Then he realized that, although the arrow was no longer moving, the number below it was rapidly decreasing. Larsa had found a way through the fence and was running straight toward him!

  Stavius should have just dropped the card in the bucket of mud or thrown it off the edge to get rid of Larsa’s ability to track him. Instead, he stuffed it back in his pocket and raced down the stairs. Moments later he was standing outside in the torrential rain as lightning crashed all around realizing that he couldn’t see the fence well enough to find a gap. He was trapped, and Larsa would reach him at any minute. Stavius’ only option was to use the only magical ability he could perform. He decided to blast a hole in the fence.

  Stavius concentrated as hard as he could on building a power blast until he felt his entire body crackling with energy. Then he braced his back leg, stepped forward with his right, and thrust both arms in front of him. A bolt of energy erupted from his hands and blasted a hole in the fence. Unfortunately, had Stavius been better trained in using this skill he would have known to be very careful using it in a powerful energy well. Septumcolis was built upon one of the most potent power flows in the world, and this enormous tree structure was utilizing vast quantities of that magical energy to remain standing.

  The results were that Stavius’ b
last was far more forceful than he had expected and that he was unable to target his charge accurately. In fact, most of the energy he discharged was entirely out of his control and angled towards the most robust energy flow, which was through the tree building.

  Stavius glanced back looking for Larsa as he scrambled through the hole in the fence and was horrified. His blast had left a fifty-foot-wide scorch mark on the new building! The alabaster white structure (it was not yet illuded to look like a tree trunk) was blackened where the energy bolt had struck, and it appeared to be crumbling. Loud creaking and cracking sounds began emanating from the structure as the blackened area continued to spread and Stavius turned and ran.

  He charged down the alley and crashed into a woman who was running down the main road. They both went tumbling into the mud, and Stavius froze in terror when he saw her bright yellow backpack fly off her shoulder. He had just knocked over a messenger and was now in deep trouble.

  Messengers were used by the very wealthy to rapidly send small packages and communications back and forth. They were naturally quick, long-distance runners who were magically enhanced for speed and endurance. They were trusted to arrive at their destination as quickly as possible without ever stopping or opening their packages. They were easily identifiable by their bright yellow backpacks and interfering with their deliveries was punishable by death.

  Stavius raced over to retrieve her backpack and began to apologize, but the woman wasn’t paying any attention to him. She was staring at the building and saying, “Holy Mars, it’s going to fall!”

  Stavius spun around and stared at the building as well. The damaged area had spread up past the third floor, although it didn’t appear singed like the place where Stavius’ blast had struck. It looked like wooden poles tied together with mud smeared over them. The explosion had disrupted the magical enhancements of the building, and it was reverting back to its natural, primitive building materials.