Resurgence of Ancient Darkness (13 page)

“Thanks, Lythiran. After the forced bed rest of the last two weeks, that felt good,” I said.

“Any time, Master. In fact, I would be happy to help you train if you wish me to. I know that you have been teaching Master Flame, and she is welcome too,” he said.

I laughed and said, “Are you on a mission to teach all the wizards how to fight?”

He smiled with the characteristically unnerving toothy smile of a Zalionian and said, “It is just what I do, Master.”

“Well, keep it up! It is too easy for we magi to lose condition,” I said.

“Great! See you this time tomorrow, Master?” he asked.

I laughed again. “Maybe we can work something out, but now I must go to
meet with Dusty.”

“Of course, Master,” he said, then with a bow he took his leave of me. I wondered at the bow, as it was unique to him. I did not really like it, but did not want to seem ungracious if it meant something special to him. I must talk with Karlith about it and see if he knows anything.

I met Dusty, Spectra, and Flame in my quarters. At first, I was going to send Flame away since Dusty had asked for a private meeting, but Spectra insisted she could stay. Once everyone was settled I said, “Well, Dusty, what is it you wanted to talk about?”

“Well, Master, I am not sure how to say this. Heck, I am not even sure I believe it yet,” said Dusty.

Spectra reached over, grabbed his hand, and looked lovingly at him. I remember when he first brought Spectra to us; then he was the one constantly encouraging her. It seemed their roles had switched over the years. She was a real source of strength for him. As his commanding officer, I worried about what that would mean if something should happen to her; but as his friend, I was overjoyed at their slowly growing relationship.

“Master, it’s just that, well … something is wrong,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He turned to Spectra, “You should tell him, I think.”

“Sure,” she said and then turned to look at me. “Master, I can sense something is coming, or is already here but at a distance. I can't tell for sure which it is, but whatever it is, it’s bad. I wish I could tell you more, but it is just on the edge of what I can sense, and I can’t get a good grasp of it.”

I knew immediately of what she spoke, and that worried me greatly. “What does that have to do with your physical training?”

“Master, I’m not sure. I don’t fully understand it, but I know that we must train in this way now so that we can be ready,” said Spectra.

I had learned over the years to lean heavily on Spectra’s instincts. She rarely could tell me why she sensed something. Mathorn had explained that that was how spiritualists worked. They could sense things that no one else could, not even spellweavers, but could rarely explain it to a non-spiritualist.

I leaned back in my chair to think for a moment. I was sure I knew of what she spoke, but the information about the physical training was something new. She was so sure of it that she had convinced Dusty to work out, something he had resisted for years, so in her mind there was definitely something to it.

I knew they had more to say. I wanted to ask, but my long years in intelligence had taught me to let people talk for as long as possible before questioning them.

Spectra looked over at Dusty, and I could see the telepathic communication pass between them again. I could not tell what was being said, but the look in their eyes told me that she was encouraging him to speak up, so I waited quietly.

“Master, there is another thing,” said Dusty.

“Go on,” I said.

“Well, Master, I am not sure how to put this, but my magic does not appear to be working properly anymore,” he said.

A chill went down my spine when he said that. Mathorn had warned me that something was wrong with Dusty. He saw it at the debriefing. He did not know what to make of it, because he had not seen anything like it before. Mathorn merely warned me that Dusty’s aura was wrong in some way.

“What do you mean?” asked Flame, great concern in her voice.

“Master, I am not sure. Can I demonstrate?” he asked.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked.

“Master, if I cast a mage bolt, you should easily be able to contain it, right?” he asked.

I weaved my Weave Sense spell so that I could see anything that happened and then said, “Sure, cast away.”

He stood and cast his mage bolt, which should have been an ice bolt, but something different came out of his spell, something that was not quite ice, while still being something like ice. I caught the spell in an energy net and studied it. An ice bolt is primarily a blunt force weapon. The ice is magically hardened and then is sent at great speed towards its target. A wizard of Dusty’s level could punch through armor plating with his ice bolts, but this one was different. It was still cold like ice, but its pattern suggested that it was primarily an energy-based attack.

“Interesting,” I said as I studied it. “I do not recognize the pattern, but it looks vaguely familiar. How long has this been going on?”

“I am not sure, Master. It only seems to be affecting my cold line, and I rarely use it,” said Dusty.

“When is the last time you cast your cold spells without issue?” I asked.

Dusty sat and thought for a while and then said, “Master, when I was in Korshalemia my ice bolts and ice storms all acted normally. I have not used them much at all in the period between then and now.”

“Spectra, do you think this is connected somehow to what you sense?” I asked.

“No, Master, not really, but it is suspicious,” she said.

I looked over at the ice bolt where it was still suspended in my magical net. “Dusty, it might not be ice, but it looks to me as if it would still be very effective.”

“Yes, Master. I used my magic a few times on this mission, but each time I cast the bolts they are a little more different,” he said.

“You used your ice magic on that rescue mission a year or two back, did you not? Did you notice anything then?” I asked.

“Not at the time, but looking back now I can see that my spells were a tiny bit different,” he said.

“This is probably related to all the other changes we are seeing, then,” said Flame.

I stared at the ice bolt for a while, trying to decide what to say. “I suppose I had better tell you this; I had hoped it was nothing, and did not want to worry anyone. Dusty, the day you met Mathorn at the debriefing after operation Show of Force, he told me something about you.” I hesitated here; I had kept the secret for so long that I was not sure I should speak of it. “Dusty, Mathorn and I do not know what it means, but we can see something wrong with you.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“He saw it first, but after he pointed it out to me it became obvious. When Spectra looks at you she sees an aura that is related to your soul, to who you are as a magus. When a spellweaver looks at a magus he sees an aura also, but one of a different kind. It has to do with your connection to the weave. The details do not matter: what matters is that your aura, as seen by a spellweaver, was damaged at that time.”

“How’s that possible?” asked Spectra.

“We do not know, but it is clear that something about Dusty is different compared to the time before he returned from Korshalemia.” I said. “At the time I dismissed it, thinking it would clear up over time and that it might be some form of magical wound that needed more time to heal; but in the light of what you have shown me today, it appears I was wrong.”

“So what does all this mean?” asked Flame.

“It means I need to contact Mathorn and see if he can find out anything more in that massive library of his,” I said.

Dusty just sat there looking at his hands. I wondered if he was trying to see his aura and whatever it was that was wrong. He was still so young, and yet had so much on his shoulders already.

“Dusty, you said that you have not been using your ice line?” I asked.

“Yes, Master. I have focused on studying the book Master Mathorn gave me,” he said.

“Well, that needs to change. I want you to start spending time in the practice chambers working with your new magic and learning the differences it now has. I suspect that the more you cast, the more changes will occur, until they stabilize. We need to know what will happen when you cast, and right now we do not know that. I will help you with these sessions, and together we will work this out.

“As for what you see, Spectra, I think that is completely unrelated; however, it bothers me. Until now Grandmaster Vydor, Mathorn, and I believed we were the only ones who could see the shadow over the realm, as it is a spellweaver trait to see the balance of power and the rise and fall of each side in the war between darkness and light. What you describe is exactly what we see, and that should not be,” I said.

“Maybe that is simply a result of the laws of magic changing?” asked Flame.

“That is certainly a possibility, but something tells me it is more than that. There is some reason why she can sense it, but I do not know what it is,” I said.

We talked for a bit more, but we were unable to come up with any answers. I asked Spectra to try to determine the direction from which the shadow was coming.

They left soon afterwards, and on the way out Spectra said, “Master Shadow, please get all the wizards to train like we are. I can feel deep within my soul that it is critical that they should.”

As Spectra and I started to leave, Phoenix burst into the room. He was out of breath and dripping with sweat. “You gotta help me!” he screamed breathlessly and started to fall over. I caught him, but his great weight was too much for me, and we both started to go down in a pile of arms and legs when suddenly I felt much lighter. It took me a moment to realize that Shadow had caught me with his magic.

“I have you, Dusty,” said Master Shadow.

“Place him on the couch,” I heard Flame say as Phoenix was disentangled from me.

“Thanks,” I said as I regained my footing.

Flame was attempting to calm Phoenix down, but he was in a full-on panic. He was screaming, yelling, and throwing small balls of fire everywhere. Master Shadow contained the magic and held him on the couch.

“Flame, call the doctor!” ordered Shadow.

“No!” screamed Phoenix in a brief moment of clarity. “No doctors!” he screamed again and tried to break free. Flame was desperately trying to calm him down and explain to him that he needed a doctor.

“
Shea! We need you! Hurry!”
Shea was the head of medical on the Shadow Fox, but more than that she was the most trusted person on the ship. Whatever reason Phoenix had for not wanting to see a doctor was unlikely to apply to her.

“
On my way,
” she sent back.

“
This is an emergency! Please teleport!”
I sent back before I remembered that she could not. She was from Korshalemia, and they did not have the same basic powers.

Moments later a gate opened in the room and she stepped out of it. I looked over at Spectra who nodded and smiled, indicating that she had opened the gate.

“What happened?” asked Shea.

“I don’t know. He came charging into the room like that,” I said.

Shea walked over to Phoenix and quietly began talking in his ear. Phoenix was bucking and yelling against the magic bonds that Shadow held him with. Flame had returned to Shadow’s side and was clutching his arm with a grip that I was sure was going to cause him to need surgery. Spectra had retreated into herself, and Shadow’s focus was locked on preventing Phoenix from hurting anyone, especially himself. Throughout it all Shea was the epitome of calm, cool, and collected. She never seemed to let anything get to her. Her calm was contagious, and slowly everyone in the room began to relax, even Phoenix.

“
Good call, Dusty,
” said Spectra, who had slid up next to me at some point and was nestled against me. In spite of the chaos caused by Phoenix, it really felt nice to have her by my side like this.

Soon Shea turned to us and said, “He is asleep, for the moment.”

“What happened?” asked Flame.

“Master, he has had an anxiety attack of some kind. I will have to get him to sick bay to verify that, but it has all the classic signs of one that has been bottled up for a while and finally broke free,” said Shea.

“Does anyone have any idea what could have caused such an attack?” asked Shadow, but no one had any ideas.

“Master, may I use your terminal?” asked Shea. “I want to look at his records and see if I can find any clues.”

“Certainly,” he said.

“How long will he be out for?” I asked.

“Only a few minutes,” Shea said. “He is likely to panic again when he wakes, but I should be able to get him back under control before it escalates again.”

She searched through his medical records for a few brief minutes, then Phoenix woke and started to yell again. I watched as she calmly walked over to him and placed her hands on his chest. She gently pressed down and he began to relax as she chanted something quietly. His breathing slowed and the crazed look faded from his eyes.

“Okay, Master Shadow, you can release him now,” said Shea.

Phoenix slowly sat up and looked around. “Man, I have no idea what came over me. I am so sorry.”

“It is okay,” said Shea with a gentle voice. “Why don’t you tell us what happened?”

He did not say anything at first, but appeared to be fighting back tears. “I’m losing my magic.”

“What do you mean?” asked Shea.

“I used to be worth something! But now I can barely roast a peanut, never mind do anything useful,” he said.

“Even if you had no magic, you have proven your worth a dozen times over,” said Shadow.

“Phoenix, please tell us what has happened,” said Shea in that same gentle voice. It was so soothing to listen to; you could not help but be calm around her.

“It’s just that I don’t have the strength to cast anymore. I mean, the shield bubble during the fight completely drained me. My second had to take over! I should’ve been able to cast that with ease; instead, I’m still fighting to recover from that. I can barely manage even the simple spells in my fire line,” he said.