Gorinthians (21 page)

"What happened?” Cha'le
stared at the wood floor where the table had been standing. Between
the two halves of the table was a slice that bit deeply into the
floor.

Lochnar sat back down with a
satisfied look on his angular features. "A new weapon that I found
a couple of decades ago. You might think of it as a very small
Drain. More Gorinthians have fallen to this sword than by any other
means put together." A twisted smile flickered across his bleak
features. "Elementals do not stand up to it any better than the
Gorinthians do."

As Celdic stared at the
remains of the splintered table, he had the sudden impression that
he could feel the sword swirling and twisting at Lochnar's side. I
am just imagining it because I know it is there now, Celdic tried
to tell himself.

"So you are still running
the same business?" Selindria asked neutrally.

Lochnar nodded without
saying anything, puffing on his glowing pipe. He was studying the
three youths once again, his eyes hooded. It was starting to make
Celdic nervous, that measuring gaze that seemed to be sizing them
up, revealing nothing of what he found in his intense
perusal.

Celdic began to understand
what the trip down the mountain must have been like for his three
friends with this silent and hostile guide clouding every step of
the journey down. It still came as a shock that this man was
Selindria's father. He definitely fit the picture that Celdic would
have fabricated as Selindria's parent, with her deadly graceful
manner. As gruff as their reunion seemed to Celdic on the outside,
he could tell that they were both pleased to see the other
again.

Thistledown cleared his
throat quietly. "I think some dinner is in order.” He turned away
from them and started toward the kitchen.

Selindria rose behind him,
"Good, I would like to see how you prepare a meal with colored
sand."

Chapter 12

Ferrich’s litter moved
through the busy streets of Shalilayo, where swarms of street
merchants hawking their wares called out to anyone and everyone
they could interest in taking a moment to examine their goods. The
smell in the merchant district was not nearly as bad as the fish
wharves, yet the stench of human odor, mixed with rotting refuse
and stagnant sewage, was still enough to cause Ferrich to keep his
perfumed kerchief pressed firmly to his slightly too-large nose.
His eyes were set close together, giving the impression that he was
always suspicious of something. He was just above average height,
powerfully built and in his middle years-- evident by the gray just
beginning to streak his hair above his ears. To most people, he
would seem to be a very distinguished-looking noble. He wore maroon
trousers made of velvet with a white silk shirt tucked in. He was
shod in slippers made of soft velvet that nobles wore, though his
lacked the bells that were the current fashion.

Trying to ignore the smell
that his perfumed kerchief could not keep out, Ferrich thought of
the dream he had the night before. He had stood on top of the Tower
of Judgment in the very center of the city where aristocrats were
tried for crimes against the guilds. There had been a feeling of
dark malevolence so strong that the air around him had felt
oppressive. Staring over the city toward Lake Magnus, he had
watched the sky darken to a blood-red haze, and the feeling of
foreboding gained in intensity. Turning toward the seashore, he
could just make out a small object moving across the waves far out
on the ocean at terrific speed. Within a few seconds, the image had
grown into a waterspout hundreds of feet high. As it drew near,
Ferrich saw that it had a slash that looked like a mouth with two
glowing red eyes above it. When it passed the tower to hover over
Lake Magnus, Ferrich thought that he would pass out from the
overpowering waves of evil that were emanating from the creature.
He had never been so terrified in his life.

Ferrich tried to think about
what had made the dream so terrifying. The creature itself was not
the most gruesome apparition he could have imagined and it had not
threatened him in any way. Yet the entire dream had been blanketed
with a sinister feeling that he could only think to describe as
evil. Being raised as an aristocrat, he had been exposed to many of
the more undesirable vices that men were prone to, some so
disgusting and repugnant that the commoners would revolt if they
could understand the half of them. He had never thought of his
fellow nobles as evil, however. Stupid? Certainly. Selfish and
spiteful? Without doubt. But never evil. The residue of his dream
haunted him as his litter bore him to the gates of the University
of Shalilayo.

When he reached the gates to
the University, Ferrich exited the litter, paying the bearers a
liberal amount of gold. The stocky bare-chested litter-bearers
grinned in excitement when they saw the flash of gold drop into
their hands. Ferrich had always liked to show a little more
generosity toward the working class than his fellow nobles. It was
true that Ferrich regarded his servants more as well loved pets
than fellow human beings, but the gold he gave out helped to
assuage any feelings of inequality his subordinates may have
felt.

The University was the
largest on the continent, with branches of learning that spanned
more subjects than any one man could ever hope to learn. Most of
the country lords sent their children to the University for a
couple of years to teach them their numbers and the basics of
governing their estates. It was rare that a man of his age still
went to the university to continue studying. Most nobles lost
interest in their studies shortly after their twentieth birthday.
The teachers were appointed by the Seeker, a man whom it was said
had the ability to find those who had a gift for educating those
who would be the rulers of the people. The title of Seeker was a
hereditary one, passed on to the son or daughter once the
descendant came into an understanding of their gift.

Ferrich had chosen a branch
of study that was frowned on by the other departments and avoided
by most people of good repute. He had chosen to study the Arcane
Arts when he was just twelve. He had been fascinated by the stories
of what the ancients had been able to do with the power that was
said to have disappeared at the end of the Great Civilization. When
the time came that his peers began leaving the University for the
more interesting game of politics, he decided to continue studying
the Arcane Arts.

Ferrich walked through the
enormous gates that were held in place by two giant statues, one a
demon of amazing detail, the other a studious-looking human
pondering the heavens as one of his arms held the gate upright.
Ferrich did not even notice the enormous tributes to Chaos and
Progression, having seen them every day for the past twenty-five
years. His attention was focused on the questions he had for
Radroc, his teacher in the Arcane Arts. Radroc was considered the
leading expert throughout the entire continent on the subject and
if the wonders that Ferrich witnessed him accomplish were any
indication, Ferrich did not doubt that it was true.

Sighing with relief at
finally reaching a part of the city not dominated by the stench of
rotting garbage, Ferrich followed the road that led through the
gates and into the University grounds, known as the Road of
Knowledge. The road itself snaked in and out of the different
departments as he made his way to the small section quarantined for
study of the Arcane Arts. It was easy to see which department you
were passing because they had gone to great lengths to landscape
and ornament their sections with the details of their study. The
Department of History had lined the road with statues of heroes and
rulers whose fame had been strong enough to survive the ages. The
Department of Botany and Agriculture was a mass of lush green hills
that enclosed the road with a canopy of trees shading the entire
stretch. Small waterfalls trickled down the side of the hills
before disappearing beneath the road while benches adorned the
walkways, coated in soft ground cover. The Department of
Engineering and Architecture had vast fields of large-scale models.
There was what appeared to be Lift Stations, with large steel
counter balances running through a system of pulleys capable of
lifting over twenty people at a time. There were also model
buildings that were spanned with large catwalks. These looked so
fragile that a light breeze should have torn them down, yet managed
to support the weight of a line of people walking across
them.

Passing the last section of
the Department of Engineering and Architecture, Ferrich entered the
grounds for Arcane Arts. The road that he had been following made a
sharp bend and continued around the Department of Engineering and
Architecture and on to the other departments, while a small side
road led to the building that housed the offices of the Department
of Arcane Arts. There was nothing notable about the section where
the Department of Arcane Arts was located, certainly nothing to
suggest the nature of this building. It would have gone unnoticed
by most people traveling the Road of Knowledge, appearing to be no
more than a service building. Its physical location reflected
perfectly the attitude with which the other departments regarded
it: as something that should be out of sight and unremarkable in
appearance. If the truth were known, the only reason that the
Department of Arcane Arts had been allowed its continued existence
was that each President of the University had rejected each demand
from the other department heads to close it down.

Ferrich walked into the
entry hall of the small building. The inside of the building did
little to change the first impression. There were several sitting
chairs scattered throughout a room that was obviously not well
maintained. Dust had collected on the sitting tables next to the
chairs that were in varying stages of disrepair and many of the
doors that led to other rooms looked old enough to have rotted at
the hinges. This part of the building was what was known as the Hot
Square, achieving its name from the high turnover rate of students
that entered the class thinking to learn magic tricks and leaving
when they learned that it was an abstract subject with very little
application. The head of the department did not even allow students
into the lower chambers deep beneath the ground until their fifth
year. The founder of the University had discovered that once you
drop beneath a certain depth in the earth, you could sense the
power that the planet emanated, and to some degree use it. An
enormous shield surrounded the underground chambers in case
something went wrong when a student was working with
yara
. The deeper into the
earth you went, the more a person could sense and use
yara
.

Making his way over to the
door that led down into the Pit, as those who knew of it called it,
Ferrich began his descent down the spiraling cylinder that led down
to Radroc's office. Occasionally, Ferrich would pass a door that
led to another classroom, the stone molding to form a cave so
natural that a stranger would never suspect the entire subterranean
chamber had been cut out using
yara
. The stairway continued its
descent into the ground for several thousand feet, hugging the side
of the rough hewn wall as it wound down into the depths of the
earth. Ferrich reached the point absolutely devoid of light,
forcing him to rely completely on his
yar
to navigate his way down the
steep decline. A half an hour later, he could feel the bottom
getting closer, because the presence of
yara
pulsed around him stronger than
any place above ground. It had only been the previous year that
Radroc had accepted Ferrich as a pupil, allowing him to enter the
lowest reaches of the Pit. Ferrich still felt a sense of pride at
the honor. Radroc had taught very few students himself; the last
one was old enough to be Ferrich’s grandfather.

As Ferrich reached the
lowest floor and started toward the door that led to Radroc's
office, he felt a sense of foreboding. Always before, Ferrich had
felt Radroc's presence burning strongly when he reached the bottom
of the Pit. Now, as he knocked on the door leading to Radroc's
office, he felt absolutely nothing. Feeling a chill run down his
spine, Ferrich hesitantly opened the door and called
out.

"Radroc?” Ferrich listened
for any indication that someone was in the underground chambers,
sensing nothing with his
yar
. Moving deeper into the room,
Ferrich reached out with his
yar
and created light in the chamber that permeated
the room so that he could see with his eyes.

Ferrich let out a startled
yell and stumbled back to the door. At the end of the room, Radroc
hung from the ceiling by his entrails, swinging slowly back and
forth. His face wore a grimace of pain that framed eyes that were
already filmed over with death. There was blood everywhere, as if a
murderous lunatic had painted the walls with it. Ferrich felt his
stomach heave and hurriedly bent over to empty its contents next to
the door. His mind reeled at the scene before him. Who would do
this? Ferrich thought furiously. He reached out with his
yar
to pull his old
mentor down from the ceiling, being able to use
yara
at this depth in the earth as an
aid. Ferrich felt his second shock as his
yar
passed through the body of Radroc
without touching him. Bewildered, Ferrich slowly walked over to the
hanging form and reached out with his hand. It passed right through
the gruesome shade without meeting any resistance.