Myrkron (Volume Two of The Chronicles of the Myrkron) (8 page)

"We are at your portal stones.  In what direction do your friends lie?"  Bastise asked.

"
Northwest," Tammin said softly.

"
Very good.  How many days travel are they?"

"
Over a week on foot.  Gratton is over a hundred leagues from here."

Bastise swore vehemently.
  "Thank you for the information.  I really wish I had the time to prolong this, but I must be on my way."  Bastise pulled a long hunting knife from one of the straps running over his shoulders.  He held it were Tammin could see it.  He waited until Tammin’s eyes focused on the blade then smiled down at him.

"
May your journey to Hell be short," Bastise said, still smiling, as he drug the knife across Tammin’s throat.

Blood blossomed over Tammin’s throat and sprayed far out to the sides as both carotid arteries were severed.  Bastise watched as Tammin gurgled and choked on his own blood.

"For the death of my men, for the abduction of Joshua, and for the pain you will have caused my friend Micah, you will taint the worlds no more with your foul presence."

When Tammin finally stopped moving, Bastise untied the rope binding him
, coiled it up, and hung it from his belt.  Remembering Micah’s orders to decapitate these beasts, Bastise pulled out his machete and with one powerful swing, severed Tammin’s head from his body.  Bastise took the cloth he had used to gag Tammin and cleaned both his knife and machete with it.  Sheathing both he tossed the cloth down on Tammin’s torso and hitched his pack up higher on to his shoulders.

Bastise pulled out his compass and regarded it in the starlight.  The compass spun crazily and would not fix in any one position.  Again Bastise swore, cursing the fates that had brought him to this strange world.

"I’m afraid that will do you no good here my friend," came a voice from behind.

Bastise hung his head and
his massive shoulders slumped.  "Micah."

Turning, Bastise beheld Micah standing a short distance away with a slight man standing to his right and a little behind.  The slim man carried a bow in his left hand.  Bastise strode purposefully toward Micah and dropped to one knee in front of him
, bowed his head, and refused to meet Micah’s eyes.

"
Micah, my friend.  No.  I do not deserve to call you friend any longer.  I have failed you.  Joshua has been taken."

Micah looked down at Bastise.  The black beret and fatigues causing
memories to rush back on him.  "Please get up, Colonel.  You may have been unsuccessful in stopping them from taking Joshua, but that is hardly your failure alone.  I should have been more vigilant."

Bastise stil
l refused to look up at Micah.  "No, this is on me.  You asked me to protect your nephew.  I was unable to do that which you asked of me," Bastise said firmly.

"
These are hardly normal circumstances.  I have no doubt that against anything short of magic, you would have been successful.  Rise my friend, you have lost no honor in my eyes," Micah told Bastise sincerely.

Bastise slow
ly raised his eyes to Micah’s.  "You always seem to know what is most in my heart."  Bastise rose fluidly to his feet and faced Micah.  "I am at your command.  What would you have me do?"

"
I would have you return to our world.  This is no place for you."  Seeing Bastise begin to protest, Micah held up a hand to forestall him.  "But since I know you will not return home, I would have you come with me to Kantwell.  Perhaps your knowledge in guerilla tactics can aid us."

The elf be
side Micah cleared his throat.  "My Lord, if you have no further need of us we would return to our posts."

Turning his gaze to the slim man, Bastise exclaimed aloud as he noticed, for the first time
, the slanting eyes and pointed ears.  "What manner of man are you?  I have never seen your like before."

The elf grinned broadly.
  "I am no man at all.  I am an elf.  My name is Finel of the Forest Guard."

Bastise looked to Mi
cah and saw him smile and nod.

"
The elves are our allies, Colonel.  The Forest Guard are some of the finest fighters in the land."

Turning back to Finel, Bastise
extended his hand.  "I am Colonel Rimel Bastise.  It is an honor to meet you, Finel."

Finel shook Bastise’s hand a
nd then bowed his head to him.  "It is an honor to meet a high ranking officer from your land.  If you are a friend to the Avari Lord then you are a friend to the elves."

"
Avari Lord?"  Asked Bastise, looking at Micah.

"
I will explain later.  You may return to your duties, Finel.  The Colonel and I will be returning to Kantwell."

Finel bowed to Micah and shot Bastise a grin before running off into the darkness.  Bas
tise cocked his head at Micah.

"
It seems there is more to you than I had thought.  I knew you were a great warrior, but I never imagined you were nobility.  It's not surprising, mind you.  You always did have an air of command about you. I just thought it was a military thing.  And here, all this time, I have been friends with a Lord," Bastise smiled and shook his head.

"
I am not of noble stock, Colonel.  It is complicated and a subject much better suited to indoors.  I must, however, warn you. You will be witness to many strange things here, not the least of which is me.  I guess we will just dive in. 
Transfero nos ut meus visum
."

Both men vanished from the portal ring and reappeared in the Great Hall of Kantwell.  Micah reached out and grabbed Bastise unde
r his arm as his legs wobbled.

"
Lean over and put your head down.  Breathe slowly.  The queasiness will pass in a few minutes," Micah assured him.

"
Gods man, what did you do to me…"  Bastise began, then halted, as he looked at his surroundings.  He looked at Micah with something akin to fear in his eyes.  "What has happened?  Where are we?"

"
We are within the castle Kantwell.  It is here that the free Magi of this world train.  And what I did to you is called teleportation.  It is a magical means to instantly transport yourself, and others, to another location."

Bastise straightened, placing a hand over his churning stomach, and looked around the Great Hall.  His eyes fell on the huge statue in the center, a towering figure draped in robes with arms upstretched, hands cupping a flame and a
dove.  Though the head was hooded, the form was obviously female and the dark blue color of the stone made it stand out against the white marble of the floor.  Bastise tore his eyes from the statue and regarded Micah.

"
This is your castle then?"

Micah chuckled.
  "No.  This castle belongs to the Magi.  Merric is Headmaster here. I guess if you could say it belonged to anyone it would be him; though ownership of Kantwell has never been claimed.  I reside in a small house within a forest many leagues from here."

Bastise nodded and continued to survey his surroundings.  Suddenly a tall robed figure appeared before him.  Bastise jumped back and uttered a startled exclamation.  Instantly drawing one of his knives from the strap over his chest
, he went into a crouch.

Micah placed
a hand on Bastise’s shoulder.  "Easy my friend.  This," Micah gestured to the robed figure, "is Merric, Headmaster of Kantwell and Wizard of the Eighth Key."  Turning his gaze to Merric, Micah continued.  "Merric, this is Colonel Rimel Bastise, a friend of mine from Earth."

Merric looked at Colonel Bastise
and inclined his head to him.  "It is an honor to meet a friend of Micah’s.  I apologize for startling you.  I am sure many things here will be strange to you."

Bastise stood up straight and sheathed his knife.  He looked Merric up and down.  He noted the blue robes and silver sash with blue stripes, the long gray hair and beard.  Bastise inclined his head to Merric.
  "And I apologize for my reaction.  Things have been unsettling today and I find myself on edge.  Please forgive me for my aggression within your home."

Mer
ric waved a hand dismissively.

"
No need to apologize, Colonel.  Good reflexes are a sign of a good warrior.  No doubt you will fit in well with Micah’s Avari."

Bastise looked to Mica
h.  "You must explain this Avari word to me Micah."

"
Merric, could we use your study?  If the Colonel is to be of use to us, we need to explain a great deal to him, and I would prefer to do so in comfort," Micah inquired.

"
Of course."  When Micah did not continue, Merric nodded and spoke the spell of transport.  The three of them vanished from the Great Hall.

Reappearing in Merric’s study, Colonel Bastise groaned and leaned over bracing himself on his knees.  Sweat beaded the Colonel’s forehead and upper
lip as he breathed shallowly.  "Please gentlemen, warn a man before turning his stomach inside out."

Merric chuckled and g
estured for them to be seated.  "It gets easier Colonel.  However, the first few times are troublesome.  You will get used to it soon enough," Merric assured Bastise as he walked around his desk and took his seat.

Micah and Colonel Bastise sat in the chairs opposite him, Mica
h looking reflective.

"
Ok, it should come as no surprise, we are at war," Micah began.

Chapter Nine

As they approached the small house, Michael noticed the smoke rising from the chimney on the far right side.  Mason walked up the three steps onto the porch.  The only furnishings on the porch were a well worn chair and a little table beside it.  Mason opened the door and a pleasant rush of warmth and light flowed out.  Once inside, Mason closed the door and gestured to a chair in front of the fire.

Michael looked around at the small dwelling
; a single room structure with a living room at the right end and a kitchen at the left.  The living room obviously doubled as a bedroom. For besides the two comfortable looking chairs, there was also a cot against the back wall close to the fireplace and a foot locker at its end.  The whole house was no more than fifteen feet deep and twenty feet long.  Michael noted a table with two chairs at the other end along with various pots, pans and utensils hanging along the far left wall.  Everything was neat and clean, but the lack of personal items made the place feel sterile and unlived in.

"
Not much to look at, but then I don’t require much," Mason laughed tapping a finger to his temple.

Michael followed Mason over to the chair
s in front of the fire and waited until Mason sat down.  He then seated himself and looked at Mason, staring at the fire.  "So what can you tell me?"

Mason continued to stare at the fire for a few
moments then started to speak.  "A Myrkron is born to the worlds every ten thousand years.  Our births are always preceded by fire in the sky.  As you know, the Great One sends magic to our worlds on the backs of falling stars.  These stars deliver magic to those born under them.  The magic they deliver is normally divided up between those born at the time of their arrival.  This is what causes such great fluctuations in the power levels of the magi.  The more born during that time, the less the power of each; and the less born, the greater the power of each.  This is not the case with a Myrkron.  When we are born, a great many stars fall, bringing a vast amount of magic with them.  All of their magic is bestowed upon only one child born during this time.  We are those children, you and I."

"
Why me?  I mean, hundreds if not thousands of children had to be born the day I was.  Why would I be the one?"  Michael asked.

"
Because somewhere in your ancestry there was a magi.  That’s not to say that others born at the same time did not have magi as well in their ancestry, but, in your world, magic is greatly diminished.  As to why you specifically, only the Great One knows.  You might as well ask why the wind blows or why a mountain is the shape it is.  Questions of that nature lead you nowhere and often cause more frustration than trying to catch a fish with an empty hook."

Michael sighed n
odding.  "You said our power is different than other magi.  How so?"

"
Well, as I said, they can only teach you the basics.  All magi cast spells with one thing in mind, the limits of their power.  The Rock Garden behind Kantwell is a very good example of this.  They test their power until they find their limits.  You will have discovered that your power far exceeds any of theirs.  In fact, your power far exceeds all of theirs combined.  When they cast a spell, they take into consideration their limits and then apply a portion of their power to the spell, measuring out bits and pieces so they do not tire themselves.  With us, we may grow tired, but it is not because we have used our power to its limits.  It is because our mortal bodies grow tired from the strain of channeling our power."

"
If that's the case, can we kill ourselves by trying to do too much?"

"
Could you kill yourself by running too long?"  Mason asked, arching an eyebrow at Michael.  "Yes you could, but in all likelihood you would simply pass out from exhaustion.  And like running, the more you channel, the more you will be able to channel.  The better shape your body is in, the better able you are to channel the magic.  Your time with the Avari has improved your fitness greatly.  Your time practicing magic with Merric and Mieka has done the same for your channeling."

"
So all that exercising has helped me with my magic as well?"

"
Yes.  It has helped strengthen your body so you do not tire as easily.  Think back to when you first came to Kantwell.  You tired more easily when using your magic, but as you trained, both with magic and with the Avari, you were able to do more things without becoming weary.  Thanks to the Avari, your body is in better shape than it has ever been.  I dare say you are in better shape than I ever was as a youth.  You have at your command more power than I ever did.  You have more stamina, thanks to the Avari.  Were I you, I would train with the Avari at every chance.  It will only make you stronger and, in turn, more powerful in magic."

"
What then are my limits?  I mean, I lifted the biggest rock in the Rock Garden with no effort at all.  How will I know if I have done something that is beyond me?"

"
Stop thinking in terms of limits.  You could have lifted Kantwell itself had you tried.  The magic would have lifted it right off its foundation had you commanded it."

"
It seems impossible to think that I could perform such a feat," Michael said flatly.

"
It seems you do a great many things that are considered impossible.  You drew power from Merric’s attack on your shield.  You did it again with Mortow.  You were able to not only detect when Mortow was scrying on you, but also to open a channel back through to him," Mason pointed out.

"
Are these things unique to a Myrkron?"  Michael asked.

"
These things are unique to you, Michael.  I could not do them.  It could be linked to you being able to see the third golden door.  I simply don’t know.  There has not been a Myrkron of your power in over forty thousand years.  My predecessor and I could only see two of the golden doors.  His predecessor was like you.  She could see all three.  It was she who gave to him the knowledge of the third door and asked that it be passed down so that future Myrkron would be able to open it."

A sudden thought hit Michael like a physical blow and he winced.
  "You are telling me that I have to remain, alive and trapped, until the next Myrkron comes.  That I am locked in this life, unable to join my wife, just as you have been, for at least ten thousand years."  Michael leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and hung his head.  "Now I think I know how Micah feels.  To know all those empty years lay ahead of you and there is nothing you can do about it."

"
Micah knows he could end his existence at any time he chooses.  He continues so that he may atone for past deeds," Mason said quietly.

"
Atone?  What does Micah have to atone for?"

"
It is not my place to tell you.  He is your friend. It is his place to tell you if he so chooses.  Remember this, if that time comes.  It is within a man to change himself for better or for worse.  Micah has done both in the course of his time on the worlds."

Michael looked at Mason quizzically
, but Mason refused to elaborate.

"
Before I go, I have something for you," Mason said rising to his feet.  He walked over to the foot locker at the end of the bed and opened its lid.  He reached in and pulled out a purple robe.

Michael stood and looked at the robe as Mason brought it
to him.  The robe appeared to be made from silk and reflected the firelight in warm spikes of yellow light.

Mason handed it to him.
  "I believe this will fit you well.  It belonged to my predecessor, Miron.  He was a good man and would want a Myrkron to have it."

Michael accepted the robe, feeling the softness of the fabric as it slid between his fingers.
  "Thank you Mason, but won’t my wearing it cause others to know something is different about me?  Since no one else knows about the golden doors, I assume they are to remain a secret."

Mason smiled hugel
y and laughed.  "They already know something is different about you, Michael.  The presence of the three golden doors is to remain a secret between Myrkron as are their names, but beyond that, there are no secrets to keep."  Mason’s smile withered.  "And Michael, it is entirely up to you whether you take the oath to remain once your time on the worlds is up.  No one, not even I, would ask such a thing of you.  It must be a decision you make on your own.  I wish we had more time Michael, I truly do, but I feel the pull of the Great One.  My oath has been fulfilled.  Please, Michael, don the robe of the Myrkron."

Michael lo
oked at the robe in his hands.  "I have so many questions for you; you can’t leave yet."

"
Please Michael, put the robe on.  I have a few things left to do and limited time," Mason said softly.

Michael set the purple robe on the chair he had been sitting in and untied his sash, folding it, he handed it to Mason, then pulled the
wizard's robe off over his head.  He felt chilled without its covering and quickly slipped the other one on over his head.  The silken feel of it sliding over his skin gave him another chill as he shrugged it into place.

Mason took a step back and tossed Mi
chael’s sash on his own chair.  "Now I have a gift for you from all of the Myrkron throughout time."  Mason untied his sash and reverently held it out to Michael.  "This sash has been worn by every Myrkron who has ever walked the worlds.  I give it now into your keeping.  May it remind you of all who have come before you.  It has been a comfort to me in my solitude.  I pass it on to you, as it was passed to me, as it has been passed since time untold."

Michael looked at the golden sash lying across Mason’s hands
; an artifact that had endured ages, an artifact being entrusted to him by the greatest magi to have ever lived.  He felt tiny and unworthy, but he knew there was no one else who could claim it as their own.  He slowly reached out and touched the golden cloth.  It looked like spun gold, and he was surprised to feel warmth coming from it instead of the coldness its metallic appearance suggested.  As his hand closed over the fabric, Mason’s hands closed as well.

"
There is one last thing, Michael.  When you have need of knowledge, seek the council of the Oakkrin.  They are the oldest living beings, and they have vast stores of knowledge that could help you, if you have need.  This valley and this place will be here for you, too, Michael, if you decide to remain."  With that, Mason let go of the sash.  As his hands left the material, a small pleasant smile came over his face and he faded away.

Michael stood staring at
the spot where Mason had been, the sash hanging from his outstretched hand.  "Now I’m alone again."  Michael fell back into his chair.  He listened to the crackle of the fire as he stared off into the distance.  "Ten thousand years without Karin.  I don’t think I can do this," he said softly.  "What good is all the power in the universe without her?"

After a few minutes, Michael again noted the sash in his hand.  It felt slick like polished metal
, yet was as pliable as the lightest silk.  The golden tone glittered richly in the firelight.  He ran the sash between his fingers.  He thought back to the battle in the pass, to the men dying all around him.  His lip twitched up at a corner in a snarl, and he pounded a clenched fist on the arm of the chair.

"
If this is how it is to be, then so be it.  I am not the only one who has lost someone I love to Mortow’s insane drive for dominance.  I will make him regret the day he embarked upon this quest for power," Michael said dully.  "This is no longer about revenge, do you hear me?"  He shouted at the ceiling, jumping to his feet.  "This is about justice, for me and for all those who have been poisoned by Mortow’s corrupt lust for power!"  Finished venting, Michael flung the sash around his waist and tied it snugly. 

As he trailed the ends through his fists, he heard Mason’s laughter again followed by a faint fema
le voice he did not recognize.

"
Become the cleansing fire that fell from the sky the night of your birth.  The power of the spheres is yours to command, Myrkron.
"

Michael looked at the fire in the hearth and said,
"
Exstinguo
."  Instantly the fire went out.  He turned on his heels and walked to the door.  Once through, he gently closed it and stepped off the porch.  A short distance from the house, Michael turned around and faced the small wooden dwelling that had housed Mason for millennia.

"
I have not decided if I will take this burden.  I’m not certain I can even make that decision before its time is upon me."  Michael waved his right hand in an arc before him and said, "
Celo
."

The light breeze that wafted through his mind was echoed by the wind blowing across the grass.  The house faded from sight.  Turning to the lake, Michael gazed at its surface.  It had become calm and mirror flat.  He could see the entire vista of the heavens reflected in it.  Without the surrounding mountains
, it would have been a disconcerting sight, lending a feeling of floating in nothingness.  The wind blew again and the surface rippled, returning it to just a lake.