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Authors: Robert P. Hansen

BOOK: Angst (Book 4)
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8

While they hurried to the Grand Master’s private chambers,
Angus expanded upon what he could about The Tiger’s Eye, the nexus, the Angst
temple, his letter to Embril, and anything else that might be useful for the
Grand Master’s preparations to defend the Wizards’ School and Hellsbreath. When
they turned the last corner, Master Renard hurried up to them. He was a
beardless middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and placid blue eyes. His
dark green robe couldn’t hide the fact that he was a bit overweight, and he was
an inch or two shorter than Angus.

“Grand Master,” he began in a rich, intense baritone. “I
must speak with you about what is happening.”

“Master Renard,” Grand Master Fredrick said as he walked up
to his door and waved his hand to tweak the strands of magic that would open
it. “I will address the Masters once I have sufficient information to do so.”

“That is precisely why I am here, Grand Master,” Master
Renard said in a rush. “I have the information you need.”

“Indeed? Then you had best come with us.” the Grand Master
said as he stepped past him and into his private chambers.

“Were you able to decipher the Angst tomes?” Angus asked as
he waited for Master Renard to step into the room. “Is there something in them
that will help us?”

Master Renard said nothing until they were inside and the
door closed. Then he turned to Angus and shook his head. “I didn’t need to
decipher it,” he said. “I already knew how to read it.”

“You did?” Angus asked in surprise. He hadn’t mentioned that
when he had bought the two tomes. “What were in them?”

“The major tome contained instructions for their daily
observances, rituals, and ceremonies. It also outlined their basic beliefs. I
had known about those already, so there was nothing new to me in them. The
minor text was a personal journal detailing their migration to avoid being
destroyed by the Invaders. It is a disturbing account.”

The Grand Master gestured to his table and sat down. His
assistant brought a platter to the table and set it down in front of the Grand
Master. Then his assistant turned to Angus and Master Renard and asked, “Would
you care for something?”

The Grand Master lifted his knife and waved it vaguely in
their direction. “You should eat,” he said. “We will be quite busy for some
time, I fear.”

Angus declined with a shake of his head, and then Master
Renard asked for a simple sandwich, some cheese, and beer.

Once his assistant had left, the Grand Master turned to
Master Renard and said, “You have information?”

“Yes, Grand Master. What has begun has happened once before,
during the Angst migration. Their temple was originally placed over what we
would call a nexus point, but for them it was an altar to their deity—a fire
god whose name I shall not say. When the kings ordered The Taming to be
performed, the Angst refused. There was a war, and they fended off the
Invaders—King Vir’s men—for some time before realizing they could not remain
where they were. That was when they migrated. Naturally, they took their nexus
point with them.”

“The Tiger’s Eye,” Angus said.

Master Renard nodded. “Yes,” he agreed. “But according to
the Angst text, it isn’t like the other nexus stones. It was not fabricated by
the Grand Masters to fracture and disperse the magic; it was—according to the
Angst—a gift from their deity. The nexus stones we are familiar with were
placed over natural concentrations of magic; they did not create those
concentrations of magic. If we take away the stone, the magic would continue to
flow outward from that point, but it will be unruly and difficult to use. The
nexus point would not move. The Tiger’s Eye does not work like this. When the
Angst left their original temple, they took The Tiger’s Eye with them and the
nexus followed it. Flame magic from deep beneath the surface was attracted to
The Tiger’s Eye, and The Tiger’s Eye reached out for it and drew the flame
magic to it. It is not a nexus point of the sort with which we work.”

The Grand Master frowned, swallowed, and asked, “Are you
saying it isn’t a part of the network?”

Master Renard nodded. “Exactly. It isn’t a nexus point as we
understand it to be. However, the flame magic it summons
does
have an
impact on the network. It has to come from somewhere, of course, and it may
bleed off energy from the network.” He paused. “It will depend on where The
Tiger’s Eye goes. The nearer it is to a nexus point, the more disruptive it
will be to it.”

“I see,” Grand Master Fredrick said as he cut through a
thick slab of cheese. “If whoever takes it approaches Hellsbreath, it will
siphon off the flame magic. Since we need that flame magic to maintain the dome,
the dome’s magic will be disrupted and may fail.”

“Yes,” Master Renard said. “We should be able to tell if it
is approaching simply by the reaction of the flame magic in our nexus point.
However, that is not our chief concern.”

“It isn’t?” the Grand Master repeated, raising his eyebrows.
“There is something worse?”

Master Renard nodded. “Yes. When the Angst migrated,
volcanic eruptions followed in their wake.”

It is as I feared,
Angus thought.
And yet, it is
not what I thought would happen.
“If The Tiger’s Eye has been taken and is
moving,” Angus asked. “Why is there so much flame magic concentrated at the
point where the Angst temple should be?”

“That,” Master Renard agreed, “is what concerns me. It is
acting as if a cork has been taken from a bottle of wine after it has been
well-shaken. It should be acting like a mountain cat stalking its prey. The
flame magic should be following the one who took The Tiger’s Eye, but it
isn’t—unless the one who took it is still there.”

Angus frowned.
Could Embril have been caught in one of
the traps
after
she took The Tiger’s Eye? Is she injured?
His heart
beat more stridently as he added,
Is she dead?

Master Renard sighed, “If only Darby had succeeded.”

“Darby?” the Grand Master asked.

Master Renard nodded. “The wizard we sent with the patrol.
He was supposed to add safeguards to prevent others from discovering the
nexus.”

Darby?
Angus wondered.
Could he have taken The
Tiger’s Eye?
It was a possibility. It was a more palatable possibility than
Embril betraying his trust in her. Darby could have taken The Tiger’s Eye if he
knew what to look for, where to look for it—but he wouldn’t know that unless
Embril had told him. “Did he know where to look for it?”

Master Renard shook his head. “We knew only what you had
reported to Commander Garret. He was to find out what he could about the ruins
and, if possible, to locate and protect the nexus. It is too powerful to be let
loose by someone who does not understand it. When the Angst moved it the last
time, the volcanoes only subsided once The Tiger’s Eye had been secured again,
and the rituals involved were complicated. I doubt we could replicate them.”

The Grand Master studied him for a long moment. “It would
seem, then, that we have three problems. First, we must keep watch on our nexus
in case there are fluctuations in the flame magic—or the other strands, for
that matter. Second, we must prepare for the onslaught of volcanic eruptions,
which could pose considerable difficulty if the disruptions in our nexus cause
the dome to fail. Third, we need to find the one who took The Tiger’s Eye and
somehow take it back to where it belongs.”

“I will find The Tiger’s Eye,” Angus said with cold
determination. “It is my responsibility that it was lost.” He paused and met
the Grand Master’s stare. “Let me have my magic and convince Commander Garret
to let me leave Hellsbreath. We cannot allow the culprit to come near the
city.”

“No,” Master Renard said. “Grand Master, I must be the one
who retrieves The Tiger’s Eye. I have intimate knowledge of the Angst and their
migration. I would have a better chance of reestablishing the nexus than
Angus.”

The Grand Master looked down at his nearly empty platter and
picked up the last bit of bread. He chewed on it for several seconds,
swallowed, and drank heavily from his goblet. Then he said, “I think it best if
both of you go.” He looked intently at Angus for a long moment and added, “I am
not convinced that your part in this is accidental, Angus. Nor is it finished.”
He paused to study him, and then finished, “I will speak to Commander Garret
once I have readied the school to deal with what we must. I will do my best to
persuade him to let you go, but I am not the king.”

 

9

King Tyr was about to step into his bath when Phillip burst
into his bathing chamber. His eyes were open too far, and he was wringing his
hands in a most disorganized manner. He had never before seen Phillip in such a
state and slowly brought his bare foot away from the surface of the water.
“What is it, Phillip?” he asked.

“Sire,” Phillip said, his voice crackling like a man’s rich
baritone emerging from a boy’s trembling tenor. “The Grand Master, himself,
begs an audience!”

King Tyr frowned. The Grand Master
never
made a
personal
appearance without first sending an underling to arrange a convenient time for
both of them. “My robe,” he said, waving off Phillip’s unsettling behavior. The
last time the Grand Master had arrived unannounced…. “Quickly, now!”

He was already walking toward the door when Phillip caught
up with him, and he paused long enough to allow the robe to be draped over his
shoulders. It settled comfortably around him, and even though it wasn’t
properly positioned, he did his best to ignore it. It was not wise to keep the
Grand Master waiting—even if he was the king.

“Where is he?” King Tyr asked as he squirmed in the
loose-fitting garment.

“Sire, I—” His eyes somehow grew even larger as he
stuttered, “I—I left him in the audience chamber. He was just
there
, and
I—”

“Bring him to my dining chamber at once!” King Tyr ordered.
“Never leave the Grand Master waiting!” he called after Phillip’s scampering
form.
Surely Felix told you that!

A moment later, he had dismissed Phillip from his mind and
was focusing on the Grand Master. It was rare for the two to meet, and when
they did, it was as begrudging equals. The king had his duties, and the Grand
Master had his. They tended to keep to them, and only met to discuss what was
in both of their interests. Usually, those meetings lasted just long enough to
reaffirm their lack of interest in each others’ worlds. The king ruled, and the
Grand Master taught and studied. The two worlds seldom crossed paths, but when
they did, there were usually dire consequences for both of them.

King Tyr was impatiently waiting next to his empty table
when Phillip led the Grand Master into his dining chamber. “Ah, Grand Master
Thom,” King Tyr said with his most implacable smile. It wouldn’t generate
warmth, but it didn’t need to; there were no delusions held between the two
men. He walked up to the chubby little man, half-turned, and held out his arm
to gesture at the table. “Would you care to join me for a meal?”

“Milord King,” Grand Master Thom said with a slight bow that
both knew held no deference. “Thank you kindly for the offer, but I fear there
is no time. We must speak on a matter most urgent.”

King Tyr’s smile didn’t waver as he let his arm fall to his
side and turned to Phillip. “Leave us,” he said. “I will call upon you when you
are needed.” He glanced at the stocky little wizard and added, “Fetch a bottle
of wine from the finest vintages in my personal cellar.”

“At once, Sire,” Phillip said, almost stumbling over his
feet as he made haste to comply.

“Now,” King Tyr said, gesturing to the table again. “Perhaps
you will tell me the purpose of your visit?”

Grand Master Thom walked at his side and said, “A major
nexus has been disturbed.”

King Tyr’s steps faltered, but he quickly recovered.

“I see you understand the significance,” the Grand Master
coolly said.

King Tyr sat down and met the Grand Master’s stern eyes.
They were a steely gray-blue that were as hard and fine as any steel he had
ever seen. “The Taming,” he said. “It could fail?”

The Grand Master considered for a long moment before nodding.
“Perhaps,” he said. “Its impact is yet to be determined. We are seeking a
resolution, but there may be none.”

“Surely there is time to restore it?” King Tyr said. “The
safeguards—”

“Are nonexistent,” the Grand Master interrupted. “The nexus
was lost long ago and was only recently rediscovered.”

King Tyr frowned. “All of the major nexus points have
Wizards’ Schools built over them to ensure they are protected. Most of the
minor ones are well-known and well-guarded.”

The Grand Master began to tap the tabletop with the
fingertips of his left hand. It was a methodical, rhythmic tapping that King
Tyr found comforting. One, two, three, four, pause, thump the thumb firmly,
pause and repeat. Perhaps that was why the Grand Master did it? When Grand
Master Thom spoke, his voice was soft. “It is perhaps our most guarded secret.
Only I and one other know of it, and that other is in Hellsbreath. Long ago,
there was an order of wizard priests who called themselves the Angst. They worshipped
a fire god whose name has been lost, and their temple was built upon a major
nexus of flame magic. At the time of The Taming, the Angst refused to submit to
the will of the kings because they believed their nexus was the breath of this
god. A war ensued. The Angst were dwarves, and that war bears their name.”

The Dwarf Wars?
King Tyr blinked at the Grand Master
and began to tap his fingers. One, two, three, four, pause, thump the thumb
firmly, pause and repeat. King Vir had sought power in those mountains, but—
a
nexus
? What could he have wanted with that?

“Only a handful of master wizards of the time knew the
truth,” the Grand Master continued. “The dwarves did not understand why they
were being attacked, and we could not tell them. The battles brewed for years
until the dwarves were forced to flee. King Vir settled the mountains and sent
out patrols, but the dwarves had abandoned the area. Outposts were built. They
could not find the Angst. All was calm for a time, and then the Angst did the
unthinkable: they uprooted themselves and took the nexus with them.”

“How could they do that?” King Tyr asked in alarm. If a
nexus point could be moved, there was no telling how dangerous it could be.
“Nexus points are static.”

“The nexus is deep in the earth, and its stone is unlike the
others,” the Grand Master said. “The Tiger’s Eye—that is the name given to this
nexus stone—reaches out for the magic of the nexus and draws it to it. Where
the stone goes, so goes the nexus.”

Phillip returned, and the Grand Master stopped tapping his
fingers to accept the proffered wine. King Tyr continued to tap the table as he
accepted the wine with his other hand.

When Phillip had once more left the room, the Grand Master
continued, “Many were lost during the ensuing volcanic eruptions as the Angst
travelled through the region. By the time they stopped, those who knew the
truth thought it best to conceal it, to forget about the nexus, to rework The
Taming by separating the Angst nexus from the rest of the network. Over time, it
was forgotten. Until now.”

The Grand Master swirled the wine in his goblet and held it
up to his nose. He breathed deeply and then took a sip. He nodded and took
another sip.

“Someone has found it?” King Tyr said.

“Yes,” the Grand Master said, swirling the wine again. “Last
fall, an Angst text surfaced in Hellsbreath. We were fortunate it was there and
not elsewhere. The one who knows of the Angst nexus paid handsomely for it, and
was well-rewarded for his efforts. The knowledge contained in it was invaluable,
especially the chronicle of the Angst migrations after the Dwarf Wars.
Unfortunately, the text was discovered in the Angst temple, and that put the
nexus at risk.”

“Surely, you took action to secure it,” King Tyr said,
barely keeping his scolding tongue in check. Magic may exist in the Grand
Master’s world, but such a thing as this also affected his own domain.

“Of course,” the Grand Master said. “But there was little
that could be done openly during the winter, and the temple is in a secluded
valley deep within the mountains held by the dwarves. We had to wait for
spring, when the patrol went to investigate the temple for further signs of
fishmen.”

“What?” King Tyr said, his fingers coming to a stop as his
hand flattened on the tabletop. “Fishmen?”
There was only one report of
fishmen being discovered in The Tween, and that was—

“Yes,” the Grand Master replied, setting down his empty
goblet. “One of your Banners discovered a small band of fishmen at the temple
and reported their deaths last fall. Commander Garret organized a mission to
return to the temple this spring to see if other fishmen were there. The Banner
was supposed to lead them to it, but they did not return to Hellsbreath in time
and the patrol left without them. We made sure the wizard accompanying them was
one of our choosing. His task was simple: protect the nexus from being
discovered. He apparently failed.”

King Tyr stared at a spot just above and to the left of the
Grand Master’s shoulder. All of his recent puzzles seemed to revolve around one
person. “Angus,” King Tyr muttered. “He found the nexus.”

The Grand Master’s eyebrows rose slightly as he asked, “Do
you know of him?”

King Tyr drained his goblet and poured them both a second
one, making sure that each goblet contained the same amount. “No,” he admitted.
“But I am quickly learning of him. What I have learned thus far would not
suggest he was capable of wreaking such havoc.”

The Grand Master nodded. “I do not think he intended it,” he
agreed. “Quite the contrary. I have been told that he left the safeguarding of
the nexus in what he thought were very capable hands—more capable, in fact,
than our own agent. However, his plan also went awry. There is no doubt that
The Tiger’s Eye has been disturbed. The volcanoes are already beginning to stir
as the source of the flame magic bubbles up to the surface.”

“What do you suggest?” King Tyr asked.

“There is little that can be done until we find out who has
taken The Tiger’s Eye and where they have taken it. The movement of the nexus
should become apparent soon, but for now it seems to be static. We should be
able to track it by its influence, and once the nexus stone has been recovered
it will be returned to its proper place.” He paused and half-whispered, “If we
can do it. The longer it takes to find it, the more active the volcanoes will
become.” He took a long draught from his goblet and set it softly down.

“I see,” King Tyr said, beginning to tap his fingers again.
“Thank you for telling me of this.” He paused to sip his wine, this time savoring
the flavor as it swirled over his tongue, and then set it down. “Is there
anything I can do to assist you with its recovery?”

“Yes,” the Grand Master said. “Send no more patrols into The
Tween and recall the ones that are already there. We will deal with the
situation ourselves—
if
it can be dealt with at all. If we cannot return
the nexus,” the Grand Master shook his head, “it may become necessary to
abandon Hellsbreath. You should prepare for that contingency.”

King Tyr met the Grand Master’s steady, blue-gray eyes and
didn’t bother asking if he was serious. The Grand Master was
always
serious. If Hellsbreath could be lost…

The Grand Master waited a few seconds before leaning back in
his seat and asking, “Now, why don’t you tell me about that little disturbance
beneath the castle? From what I hear, you were recently visited by—” he paused
and gave a knowing half-smile “—a dragon.”

King Tyr reached for the last of the wine and, this time, he
poured it all into his own goblet. By the time the goblet was empty again, the
Grand Master’s curiosity had been satisfied. They parted company at the door,
and as Phillip turned to lead him down the corridor, King Tyr called out,
“Bring more wine when you return, Phillip.” It had been some time since he had
gotten drunk, and if any occasion called for it, this one did.

When Phillip returned with the wine, King Tyr was pacing in
a small square, as if Captain Blanchard were there. Periodically, he stopped,
turned, and glared where the captain should have been, but it wasn’t the
captain that he was seeing when he glared. It was a wizard named Angus.

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