Message Bearer (The Auran Chronicles Book 1) (16 page)

BOOK: Message Bearer (The Auran Chronicles Book 1)
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Chapter
22

 

‘Focus,
Sylph. Empty your mind of distraction. Only with a calmness of mind can you
implement this effect.’

Sylph stood, eyes locked on the single
candle that burned in the corner of the room.  She focussed on the candle,
emptying her mind of all distraction. It was routine, almost habit. Something
she’d done hundreds of times before.

Yet why was she failing now?

‘Is something troubling you?’ Marek said.

‘No.’

Yes.

‘Tell me, child. Your welfare is most
important to me.’

She shook her head and let out a deep
breath.  She refocussed on the candle.

‘It’s nothing,’ she said.

Marek nodded, clearly not believing her.

Focus dammit. She connected to the Weave,
the subtle change welcome, filling her veins with energy.  The room darkened
around her, the candle being the only thing that existed, burning away in the
distance. She called the Script to mind, the glyphs appearing in her mind’s eye
before vanishing, their stored energies consumed as she readied the effect.
With one last breath she mentally wrapped a snuffing hand around the flame, and

Sheol. Sheol desecrating a Baloran tomb.

She shook her head. Stop it!

The man in her dream. In Sarah’s dream. 
The Baloran priest.

But he wasn’t, was he?

No. Don’t think of that. Marek would not
be pleased.

He wasn’t Baloran. He was sheol.

‘Sylph!’

The image vanished. Sylph shook it away
and turned back to her mentor. Marek’s white eyes bore into her.

‘You are distracted. Go and come back when
you’re in a fit state.’

Marek raised a hand as he walked back to
his desk. The candle snuffed out with a whimper of Weave energy. He flicked on
the lamp and sat in his chair.

‘Something else?’ he said, noticing that
she hadn’t moved.

Stay calm.

‘Sylph? Say it or go. I don’t have time
for childish tantrums.’

‘What was Sarah doing?’

Marek clasped his hands together and
leaned forwards.

‘I thought that was obvious. Betraying
those who’d taken her in.’

‘Tell me.’

‘Are you feeling okay? Where has this
dangerous
line of questioning come from?’

Marek’s white eyes were fixed on her. Her
blood ran cold, the anger evaporating in an instant. All she wanted now was to
get out before Marek made a decision that didn’t bode well for her future
wellbeing.

‘I’m sorry, I’ve just been having trouble
sleeping since I returned.’ She dropped her head. ‘Forgive me.’

‘Look at me, Sylph.’

Sylph forced her head up, her instincts
screaming against the action.

‘Sarah tricked me. She tricked us all. She
had my confidence and she used it to steal secrets that I sought. Knowledge
that would’ve allowed us to overthrow the betrayers and bring justice for those
who suffered under Danu.’

‘She had crossed over?’

‘I told her of a site I had located,
rumoured to contain powerful magicks secreted away by Balor when he sensed Danu
had turned against him.’

She suddenly realised she’d hadn’t
breathed for several seconds and took in a sharp gulp of air.

‘A true site of Balor?’

Marek smiled. ‘It had taken many months of
searching, but I’d finally found a genuine site. Sarah begged me to let her go.
She was trained, skilled in infiltration. She could get there without drawing
the attention of the Border Guards.’

The smile dropped.

‘That’s how she convinced me anyway.’

‘She found it, didn’t she? But she tried
to take it back to the Magistry?’

‘Alas, she did. She would’ve made it too,
if it wasn’t for the Hound that found her.’

‘So that’s why I was sent to retrieve her
memories? So you could acquire the knowledge that she’d taken?’

Marek nodded.

‘Unfortunately the memories you managed to
obtain are fragmented. It will take time to make sense of what she’d taken.’

They didn’t seem that fragmented to me,
she thought.

‘Sylph?’

‘Yes?’

‘You seemed to drift away for a minute.’

‘I’m sorry, I am tired, that is all.’

Sylph rose and went to the door. With the
handle half turned she stopped and looked back.

‘The site Sarah found?’

Marek had returned to his favoured place,
his white eyes lost in the flames.

‘Yes?’

‘The sheol weren’t there, too, were they?’

‘No, of course not, the site is sacred,
lost to all. They may be our allies now, but I would not trust them with the
location of any of our sacred artefacts. Why?’

‘No reason, just curious.’

‘Goodnight, Sylph.’

Sylph left without a word. As the door
closed the shadow behind it shimmered as a humanoid form coalesced out of the
dark.

‘You are bold, hiding in plain sight like
that,’ Marek said as his visitor stepped into the light.

‘Your protégé is distracted. She couldn’t
sense her own nose, let alone me.’

‘What brings you here, Silas?’

Silas, First Sword of the Brotherhood, sauntered
across the room and slumped into Marek’s chair.

‘How long?’

‘You tell me. It is your spies who are
monitoring his progress.’

‘He is training with a mage called Caleb.
My son is teaching him the ways of the warrior.’

Marek snorted. ‘Caleb? I’m surprised that
old bastard is still shuffling round. How does the boy fare. Is his
Weave-mastery progressing?’

Silas sat. He poured himself a coffee from
the pot. Marek slid two fingers across in the air and the bolt on the door
locked. Silas took a sip. He murmured in appreciation.

‘According to my son he is weak,
untrained. But he is keen.’

‘You know it takes six years to learn the
three schools.’

‘Six years? We don’t have that long, the
borders will have shifted. The sheol will be out of control by then.’

‘You do not have to remind
me
of
this, Silas. It was I who gave you this opportunity.’

‘Of course, Marek, and I appreciate -’

‘Then you will appreciate that this will take
time. If your Brotherhood had done their job, then the infiltrator would have
completed her mission safely and we wouldn’t have this particular challenge.’

‘How dare you!’ Silas’ yellow eyes blazed.
‘You know what we have to deal with, what the magi have done to us! It was your
out-of-control sheol that killed her in the first place!’

‘Calm, old friend. I did not mean to rile
you. We merely have to be patient. If we get the boy now it is of no use. He
would die, and we would lose all we have. Give it some months, let the
foundations settle. When he has something we can use, then we will act.’

Silas pursed his lips, nodding slowly. ‘And
the sheol?’

‘What of them?’

‘It is obvious that the control we have is
tenuous at best.  Will it hold until he is ready?’

This time is was Marek’s voice that
dripped in menace. ‘The sheol are my concern, Silas. I will monitor the
situation and act accordingly.’ Marek rose. ‘I believe this meeting is over.’

Silas rose and tipped his head. ‘Of
course. Let us not fall out over this. We have a common cause after all.’

‘Indeed. It would be wise not to forget
that.’

Silas slowed as he approached the door.
Already his shadow-melding was taking effect, his form fading into darkness.

‘The girl.’

‘What of her?’ Marek said.

‘She is asking the wrong kinds of
questions. She could be a threat.’

‘Sylph is my ward. I will decide how to
deal with her. And besides, I believe she has a significant role to play in
this yet.’

‘But in whose favour?’ Silas said. His
voice seemingly came out of thin air now, although Marek could see his aura as
clear as day. ‘If she becomes a danger, let me know. We will deal with her.’

‘Goodbye, Silas.’

The bolt slid back. The door opened and
the Silas-shadow vanished into the gloom, leaving Marek with troubling
thoughts.

Chapter
23

 

6 Months Later…

 

Seb stooped, resting his palms against
aching knees. His muscles burned. His arms trembled and sweat poured from his
brow, stinging his eyes.

Yet he would not give in.

‘You want to rest?’ Cade
said. The warrior circled the chamber. One fist held the other, the knuckles
cracking as he flexed.

‘What’s the matter, you
getting tired?’

Cade stopped. ‘Seb,’ he
said, smiling, ‘there’s no need to do yourself an injury. I -’

Seb dashed forwards. He arrived
at Cade in a heartbeat but his attack was overextended. Cade ducked back,
letting him fly past, sliding to a halt on the smooth stone.

‘Very good! You’re
getting better at that!’ Cade said. ‘You are still letting frustration better
you, though. Now, attack. No Sentio, just what I’ve shown you, muscle memory
only.’

Seb didn’t need to drop
his connection to the Weave. It had vanished already. He could never maintain
it for long, and even then it only came in fits and starts. Sometimes it wouldn’t
come at all. This, though, he could deal with. Straight up skill and strength,
no magic involved.

Seb adopted one of the
many combat stances Cade had shown him and launched a ferocious attack. Muscle
memory kicked in, weeks of training, hundreds of hours practicing coming
together. His hands moved in a blur, deft actions designed to draw maximum impact
with minimum effort. Of course Cade parried or dodged, his hands equal to Seb’s
attacks, but they weren’t as easily deflected as previously. When they’d first
started these sessions Cade could have deflected any attack with one hand tied
behind his back. Now though it took both, even if the warrior never broke a
sweat.

Seconds later they
parted. Cade stepped back, his guard dropping. Seb staggered back to his side
where a towel and water bottle lay on the rug. He wiped his brow and took
several gulps.

‘You are doing well.’
Cade said, waiting for Seb to get his breath back.

‘Yeah?’

‘I wouldn’t lie. What
troubles you?’

‘That obvious?’

‘You’re not as obnoxious
as normal.’

‘Wow. It must be bad.’

‘Tell me.’

Seb scrunched the towel
up and threw it on the floor.

‘It’s the same shit,
Cade. This stuff,’ he said, gesturing at their makeshift ring, ‘I can do. It’s
physical, it’s normal. I know if I practice hard then I’ll get better. It’s
simple. And I enjoy it.’

‘But?’

‘Learning the Weave is
something else.’

Cade frowned. ‘I thought
you were doing well?’

‘I was. At the start.
But, it’s like, the more I learn it, the harder it becomes to do anything. It’s
like I’m overthinking it. I can make the connection, most of the time, but then
I try and remember the damned Scripts and it all just fizzles away.’

Cade took off his arm
guards and threw them into his sports bag. ‘Have you discussed this with Caleb?’

‘I haven’t, but I know he
knows. He can sense my frustration I’m sure.’

‘Perhaps he’s waiting for
you to ask for help?’

‘You think?’

Cade shrugged. You never
know unless you try.’

The two men stood and
walked towards the exit.

‘How are things anyway?
You know, out there?’

‘No better. You heard
about the human vassals?’

‘Yeah, Caleb said. Now we
have humans
and
the sheol working together. How the hell did that
happen?’

‘It looks like Marek is
trying new tactics. They’re working too. We’ve lost ten brothers in six months.
I’m sure I’ve encountered a mage too. Of sorts.’

‘What? Working for
Marek?’

Cade nodded. ‘First when
we rescued you. Then I’m sure I saw them again when I first encountered the
human vassals.’

‘How is that possible?’

‘I suppose it’s quite
possible with Marek out there. What’s to stop him getting hold of a Latent mage
before we do?’

‘What’re we going to do?’

‘The magi will do what
they normally do; stick their heads even further into the sand,’ Cade said. ‘Sorry,
that’s not aimed at you.’

‘Why don’t they do
anything? Surely it’s in their interests to help?’

‘The Oath only works one
way. We owe them. Not the other way round.’

‘They won’t feel that way
when there’s no Brotherhood left.’

‘Perhaps,’ Cade said, a
resigned smile on his face. ‘Although if it gets to that stage I’m sure I won’t
care.’

They walked back through
the tunnel towards the main chamber, where Caleb’s morning grumbles drifted
through the air like clouds.

‘You think it will get
that bad?’ Seb said.

Cade glanced across at
Caleb. If the old man was listening, he didn’t show it. ‘Five years ago, hell,
even six months ago, I would’ve said no. But now?’

Cade let the question
hang in the air as he turned and trudged towards the stairs, the world hanging
a bit heavier on his shoulders.

‘Cade,’ Caleb said, as
the warrior walked by.

He received no answer.

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