Mage Prime (Book 2) (34 page)

The Great Hall was cold, despite the midsummer heat which was already turning the palace’s neat lawns to mats of brown straw. Standing beside the catafalque, her hands clasped in prayer, Lady Evalin gave a momentary shiver as she gazed into the sumptuously appointed coffin and contemplated the dead face of her king. Her shiver was not induced by the ambient temperature of the room, or by any indefinable repulsion engendered by the presence of a corpse. Something more recognisable and unexpected had brushed her skin, causing the fine hairs along her forearms to stand on end. She waited.

The call was tinged with uncertainty. “Lady Evalin. Can you hear me? I need your help.”

Only slightly alarmed, and definitely intrigued, she rested one hand on the rolled and padded edge of the coffin.
“Who are you and where are you?”

The uncertainty in the voice gave way to relief. “My name is Karryl. You don’t know me. Jobling has me under guard in one of the rooms of the south wing.”

Suspecting that some magically talented foreign representative had overstepped the mark and roused Jobling’s ire, Lady Evalin drew her black veil back down over her face and removed herself to the point where the two long corridors of the south wing converged, forming a large ‘L’. The shorter limb lay straight ahead, but almost immediately she saw her ultimate destination, made obvious by two large and armed household guards standing at ease outside one of the doors near the far end of the longer corridor. As she approached, the guards snapped to attention and grounded their halberds in salute.

She acknowledged their salute with a brief nod. “Thank you, gentlemen. If you would be so kind as to unlock the door I will interview our guest, in private.”

There was no argument. One of the guards produced a long key from the pouch at his belt, unlocked the door and pushed it open. Lady Evalin cast a spell of shielding around herself, stepped through into the room and closed the door quietly behind her.

Despite the grubby cream robe and the water-stained and scuffed sandals, Evalin immediately warmed to the dark-haired young man with the hopeful expression and lopsided smile of welcome. His dark eyes followed her as she glided across the room, seated herself by the window and lifted back her black veil.

With her hands folded demurely in her lap she looked up at him, her smile putting him at ease, but her eyes telling him she would tolerate no nonsense. “Very well, Master Karryl. Will you be after sitting yourself in that chair there and telling me the whole story from the beginning?”

Karryl pulled the chair nearer, already feeling a weight lifting as he heard Evalin’s familiar Arinish lilt. He sat down and then hesitated, as if he was unsure which part could justify being called the beginning. Evalin raised one eyebrow and gave him an encouraging nod. Karryl began, not from the very beginning, but from the point where he had first cast the transference spell on the grelfons in the Mudlin road. As he spoke, Evalin neither commented nor interrupted, simply studied his face, watched his expressive hands and listened carefully to the tone of his voice.

When he had finished he leaned forward, his hands clasped. “Lady Evalin. I am in dire need of your help. Although you may find it hard to believe, we have already met on a number of occasions, but I know for certain that those meetings will not be in your memory.”

She frowned, one forefinger against her chin. “You seem to know more than is healthy for you, young man. What reason should I be having for trusting you?”

Karryl took a deep breath. “For just that reason. I know more than is healthy at this particular moment.” He paused, disconsolate. “If I can’t persuade you to help me, then my health will be the last of your concerns, or mine and anyone else’s for that matter.”

There was a long pause as Evalin considered his words, and the young Mage-Prime found himself wondering whether he would remember this day’s unprecedented events when, or if, he eventually returned to his own time. The possibility that he might not be able to suddenly loomed large in his mind and his heart began to pound. Quickly employing a calming spell, he pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

He leaned forward, hands clasped, elbows on knees. “Without wishing to boast, Lady Evalin, I am the second Mage-Prime spoken of in the old stories. It has been irrefutably confirmed.

Evalin leaned back in her chair and regarded Karryl for a minute or two, as if making a mental analysis of the bold statement and its web of implications. He waited, not caring to break the silence while Evalin continued to ponder. Eventually she stood up and began to pace the floor, her hands clasped behind her and her eyes cast downwards as if contemplating the colours of the fine rugs beneath her feet. Karryl remained seated and maintained his silence, only allowing his dark eyes to follow Evalin’s perambulations.

As if she had come to a decision, she stopped in front of him and leaned forward. “After careful consideration of the small amount of information you have given me, it is quite clear, as it would be to anyone with even half a brain, that you have somehow managed to transport yourself backwards in time... but then, I’m sure you knew that anyway. And am I correct in surmising that certain matters occurring in your own time make it vital that you return as soon as possible?”

Unsurprised by Evalin’s astuteness, Karryl nodded. “I’m afraid you’re right. How much more would you like to know?”

Evlin sat down and shook her head as she raised a restraining hand. “I’m thinking it would be of more benefit to us both if I knew as little as possible. You have already made it obvious to me that we are destined to meet again, but only if you are successful in returning within a certain space of time. It is also obvious that you are here by dint of some freakish and inexplicable accident.”

Karryl threw up his hands in despair. “That’s just it! I don’t know how it happened. I’m certain I didn’t do anything different to the way I normally do it, but here I am in the midst of preparations for something that took place when I was only nine or ten years old!” He paused, his eyes widening with alarm. “Suppose I meet myself while I’m stuck here!” His voice trembled on the edge of panic. “Would I recognise me? I mean... would the younger me recognise the older me?”

Evalin gave his shoulder a reassuring pat as she sat down to face him. “I’m thinking it would not be wise at this stage to ponder the likelihood of paradoxes. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, the sensible thing would have been to immediately work the spell again, reversing the parameters as soon as you realised what had happened. It is my considered opinion that the longer you remain here, the more difficult it will be for you to return. As each minute goes by you are moving further away from the time/location nexus.”

The calming spell couldn’t quite keep the panic from reaching Karryl’s eyes before he spoke. “At least I seem to have made one right move when I called on you. It seems that you know what you’re talking about.”

Evalin could see that her response was not what Karryl had been expecting. “I wouldn’t count on that, young man. ‘Tis a field I have never ventured in to; in fact, I think no one has, it having always been considered impossible.”

She stood up again from her chair and folded her arms, her mouth set in a tight grim line as she studied him for a few moments. Her next words shook him to the core. “I’ve no more idea of how it happened, or of how you could successfully return, than you do.”

Before Karryl could think of anything to say, Evalin was halfway across the room. She turned and gave him a thin smile. “Until I can come up with a way to solve this, I suggest you stay here. I’m thinking that the fewer people who see you, the better. I’ll have some food sent in for you, and if circumstances dictate that you’re still here tomorrow, then it is imperative you do
not
attend the funeral. Do you understand?”

Numbed, Karryl nodded, wanting to protest, but knowing it would be pointless. He stood as she left the room, then unable to think of anything better to do, kicked off his sandals and flopped down on the bed. With his hands behind his head he let his body relax into the comfort of the down pillows and quilt, closed his eyes and began a thorough assessment of his situation.

He was drifting somewhere on the edge of sleep when a voice, echoing and distant brought him fully awake.
“Karryl; can you hear me?”

Thinking it might be Lady Evalin, he swung his feet off the bed and sat listening. This time the voice had lost its echo but still seemed distant. “
Karryl; can you hear me?”

A wave of relief washed over the young Mage-Prime as he recognised the voice.
“Yes Magnor, I can hear you. Where are you?”

The Grrybhñnös elder’s tone was firm. “Where I am isn’t important. Where are you?”

“I’m in a room in the south wing of the palace.”

Magnor sounded puzzled.
“Which palace?”

Karryl sighed. “King Vailin’s palace of course. How many palaces are there in Vellethen?”

There was a tinge of irritation in Magnor’s reply. “There’s no need to get snippy. We searched the palace and the grounds, including the south wing and couldn’t find you.”

Karryl immediately realised that Magnor wasn’t aware of the true situation. “That’s because I’m not there. To tell you the truth I’m in a bit of a predicament.”

Not willing to take the chance of irritating Magnor even further, Karryl dispensed with mental speech and played the whole sequence of events through his mind. A long pause followed while he concentrated on the pattern on the rug beside the bed.

Magnor resumed the mental dialogue. “Nice pattern; and saying ‘a bit of a predicament’ is putting it mildly. So, let me get this straight. You arrived there at breakfast time on the day before the funeral of Vailin I?”

Rather unnecessarily, Karryl nodded. “Yes, and I think I’ve been here no more than a couple of hours.”

Magnor’s tone was adamant. “Stay put and don’t do anything or go anywhere until I contact you again. It may be an hour or two.”

The familiar hollow feeling in his head told Karryl that Magnor had broken contact. He waited for it to clear and was just about to lie down again when there was a gentle tapping on the door. Uncertain whether to go and answer it, the decision was made for him by one of the guards, who opened the door to admit a soberly dressed household maid carrying a fully laden breakfast tray.

She bobbed a little curtsey before carrying the tray across the room and placing it on the small table near the window. “The Lady Evalin asked that I bring you this sir, and said if you was wanting anything else you was to ask one of the guards. Thank you sir.”

Keeping her eyes lowered, she bobbed another curtsey then scurried back across the room. Karryl waited until the door had closed behind her before he ventured to see what Lady Evalin had sent him for breakfast.

* * *

He was gazing out of the window at nothing in particular when Magnor’s voice surged into his mind.
“Karryl; are you still in the same room?”

The Mage-Prime’s reply was tinged with irony. “I don’t have a lot of choice. There are guards outside the door. Where else would I be?”

Magnor sounded surprised. “That shouldn’t be a problem for you!”

Out loud, Karryl gave a derisory chuckle before he replied. “That’s one risk I’m not prepared to take, as things are at the moment. Who knows where I might end up?”

There was a long pause, and Karryl got the sense of a number of people talking amongst themselves, but he was unable to make out what they were saying.

Magnor returned, the contact seeming clearer and not so distant. “
Wherever you’re standing, stay there and don’t move.”

Mystified and his curiosity piqued, Karryl agreed. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his robe and stood gazing out of the window, hardly daring to breathe.

He heard Magnor’s voice say
“I’ve got him!”

His view of the sun-drenched gardens rippled, tilted sideways, and he found himself in total darkness. He could see nothing and hear nothing. He didn’t dare move. For longer than he could realistically estimate he remained, seemingly suspended in a black cocoon and devoid of all outside sensory stimuli. There was one consolation and he smiled to himself despite his bizarre situation. He knew he wasn’t dead. His bladder was getting uncomfortably full. As if in response to his increasing discomfort, almost imperceptively the darkness began to disperse, reminding Karryl of a sunless dawn.

His skin prickled, cold bright daylight banished the darkness and he began to shiver. He looked down at the slushy snow surrounding his bare feet and wondered what had happened to his sandals. After one final look around to ensure that bowman Parry had indeed gone with Magnor and the huntsmen, and that no trace of the grelfons remained, the Mage-Prime transferred himself to the welcome warmth of the apartment he shared with Symon.

* * *

In a softly lit, fern-scented hexagonal cavern a group of Grrybhñnös elders sat quietly discussing recent events.

His eyes filled with concern, Magnor leaned forward. “Do you think he will remember?”

Agmar shook his head. “Considering the complexity and magnitude of our achievement, it is extremely unlikely. I think we can safely say that the Mage-Prime is back to his normal self.”