Secrets of Arkana Fortress (17 page)

              ‘Really?’ she croaked, a sudden onset of nerves kicking in.

              ‘Yes indeed,’ he remarked thoughtfully. ‘I remember finding one of the mage’s fingers not long after, but the rest of him…’ He allowed his sentence to trail off, giving rise to Vicana’s own imaginations.

              ‘That’s unfortunate. All I have to say is that my way of doing things has been productive over these few years so far.’

              Blaigen raised an eyebrow. ‘But it is not feasible for what we need done now.’

              ‘I was not attempting to argue or disregard orders.’

              ‘That’s alright then, isn’t it?’ He ruffled his long, flared sleeve robe around, folding his arms within it. ‘Now, we will start by infusing your current quota of mages with the higher magical power.’

              ‘Are you kidding me? I doubt their minds could take that sort of infusion and live; not to mention their bodies.’

              ‘We will see later on then, won’t we?’

              ‘You’re doing it tonight?’ Vicana, regardless of her devotion to the Providence’s power and influence, was wary of such a rapid change to the rhythm of how things went on around her. ‘Do you have the equipment to facilitate such a procedure?’

              Blaigen laughed with genuine amusement at her words. ‘Oh, my dear lady, there is nothing the Providence cannot provide for us.’ He prodded a forefinger against his own chest. ‘I represent the Providence, therefore I will provide.’

              ‘But how?’

              ‘You would like a demonstration?’ he replied, a look of delight on his face as if he was glad to show off his so-called superiority.

              ‘Go ahead,’ said Vicana as she stood to one side.

              ‘Very well.’ He rubbed his hands together as he looked around the cavernous hall, his face slowly dropping with disappointment at the lack of furnishings and decor. ‘There isn’t much to this place is there?’ He turned on the balls of his feet and spotted a small collection of stone in one of the corners. Having been discarded when an extra part of the room was carved out using magic, it was of no use. ‘Those rocks – watch this.’ As he touched his forefingers to his temples, a faint glow outlined a jagged circle on his forehead that grew with an ebbing majesty, brightening up the air around him.

              As Vicana watched, the rocks trembled as if there were alive or possessed. Her eyes grew wider as the solidity of them changed into a malleable grey liquid, slowly rising into the air and making new shapes. From the blob-like mass there formed, what looked like, a table with prongs jutting upward at each corner. With a final surge of power the table took final form – metal plates ran all over it in no particular pattern, small needles lined the ends of the prongs like a morning star mace. It rested onto the floor like a feather falling to the ground in a windless air.

              ‘You have the power of mass manipulation… an acquired skill is needed to control it.’ Vicana clapped her hands together, a mixture of delight and wonder.

              ‘I have trained in the art for many decades, my dear lady,’ Blaigen explained as the mark on his head disappeared almost instantly. ‘Things were not easy when I first started to try it, but the Providence saw to my training with great enthusiasm.’ He turned to marvel at his manifestation of manipulation. ‘I nearly died several times because of the shear forces that accompany this power.’

              ‘I can imagine.’

              He turned to face her. ‘Can you?’

              This threw her off guard. Having been made to have such awesome powers in a completely docile environment didn’t give her many near death experiences. She looked him in the eyes briefly then fell silent.

              ‘I thought not,’ he uttered, his tongue whipping about in his mouth like a snake. ‘Now, if you would show me to where your cabbage patch is so I can assess things…?’

              She led him up a large winding stairwell in a darkened corner of the cavern to a long room with stone-base beds lining either side of it. With no windows carved into the wall, the room was lit by a series of magi-lamps that were placed above each bed, each one of them emitting enough eerie light for the mages to make out where they walked… not that they had a mind of their own anyway.

              ‘These are the mage’s beds,’ Vicana said as she held her hand out in front of her to point them out.

              Blaigen rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. ‘I see. So is it one mage each for the number of hours of magical sustaining you need?’

              She nodded. ‘Yes, it’s 12 mages for 12 hour shifts.’

              ‘With the infusions you will be able to have six mages for 24 hours.’

              She shook her head and blinked repeatedly, not believing what she had just heard. Before she could remark on his statement, he raised his hand to silence her.

              ‘Of course, the question is whether or not your mages can handle such raw magical infusions.’ He hummed momentarily then stared her in the eyes. ‘I would like you to assemble all of your off-duty mages in the main hall as quickly as possible.’

              Vicana pursed her lips, knowing that he knew that there was no reason why the mages could not be assembled right at that very minute. ‘It is possible now.’

              He smiled sickeningly. ‘That’s good then isn’t it, lady Slorin?’

***

They were lined up, emotionless and completely obedient. These mages would have walked off a cliff without batting an eyelid, let alone questioning the order. The essence of fear, happiness, curiosity, anger, and every other emotion had been sucked out of them. This pleased Blaigen to no end as it meant there was less clutter in their distilled minds.

              He walked in front of them down the line. ‘I count 24 of them here.’ He looked at her enquiringly. ‘You have an extra 12?’

              Vicana confirmed the numbers. ‘I like to keep a reserve group in case of any untoward problems that may arise.’

              This pleased her counterpart as his face parted with a rarely seen smile. ‘That’s excellent; it means there are more of them to infuse; providing of course that we don’t have too many deaths as a result of this process.’

              ‘Why did you want to have them all lined up down here anyway?’ she asked.

              He raised a knowing finger into the air and chuckled a little. ‘Ah, that is the question I’ve been waiting for you to ask.’ He swivelled around and faced the mages once again. ‘As you can probably gather, putting each and every one of these vegetables through the infusion just to find out only half of them can’t take it would be highly unproductive. I intend to filter out the weaker ones so I do not waste any time in my work.’

              ‘And how do you propose on doing that may I ask?’ Vicana folded her arms and cocked her head slightly to one side.

              A laugh, evil and slick, bounced off the walls. ‘Easily, my dear lady.’ From inside his robe he produced a small device that looked like a cube. It was adorned with dark red and gold, and boasted a tiny socket in its front that was about the size of an eyeball. ‘Don’t be too shocked when this is over.’ He tapped the cube three times and watched it as it sprung to life, shooting out violent, but beautiful, violet lights that weaved and wrapped their way around each mage like a sentient essence. It penetrated their bodies through their ears, noses, and mouths, delving deep within them like an unstoppable virus.

              Vicana gritted her teeth as she saw the gas-like magic make its way back to its origin. She breathed out with relief as all of the mages stood firm. ‘I guess all of them are suitable then, lord Blaigen.’

              Raising a hand, he shushed her. Suddenly, out of the 24 mages, about 10 of them crumpled to the floor, their bones completely broken, blood seeping from their mouths, noses, and ears.

Vicana shuddered a little and composed herself. ‘Did you expect more to fall?’ she asked after a minute of silence.

              ‘What I did or did not expect is neither here nor there, lady Slorin. What matters now is that we know which ones we can use.’ Without waiting for a reply he replaced the device and folded his arms beneath his robe, exiting swiftly as he did so.

              ‘Return to your beds,’ said Vicana in a low voice.

              The mages bowed a little and filed out of the hall, leaving their mistress standing over their dead, and very much broken, colleagues. Her eyes flickered as she looked at each one in turn. If killing them in order to save time was necessary then she had no choice but to accept it, didn’t she?

Chapter 14

Things were becoming a lot more interesting as he placed one paw in front of the other over the jagged rockery overlooking the site where Lupana village once stood; now a faded array of foundations and charred rubble. Its once recorded glory had been lost to some sort of fateful display of aggression that still seemed to linger like a bad smell. What had happened to the village exactly had never been known – the only thing that people knew was that it had suddenly disappeared overnight, many researchers and historians theorising that it had been destroyed.

Not many had managed to venture to the mysterious location, but those who had done so all turned up dead not long after emerging with a handful of spoils. There were some who were never seen again.

              San Kiln knew the dangers that surrounded such a trek, but had always been taught to be as sceptical about myths and rumours, especially when it came to ancient curses and deaths. Places like these always fascinated him though. He was a sucker for a good mystery with the obligatory element of danger to it. Whatever the attraction was, it excited him, raising his tabby fur with the utmost pleasure. Many a time had he been to the depths of danger and survived with nothing more than some minor fur loss, except the one time not long after he had taken up exploring where he lost his left foot. That was the only escapade he regretted more than anything, but thanks to the wonders of bionic engineering he had had his lost paw replaced, and it worked just as well as his natural one had done, if not better.

              As the sun peaked in the sky, he placed his left foot onto a flat-faced rock, lifting himself up with it and onto the next one. When he reached the top of the naturally placed stepping stones, he took a sharp intake of breath. His milky green eyes peered over the virtually untouched set of blackened ruins – a wide and varied expanse of stone foundations reaching all the way around the clearing. No wonder this place was hard to find being placed in a naturally well covered valley on a rarely touched island. San Kiln looked down and judged the distance down to the floor below – a bit too far for one big jump. Being a feline he could take the high falls with little or no injury, however, considering he only had one proper foot left he didn’t want the risk.
‘Cats always land on their feet’
wasn’t just an expression to his race.

              He hopped down from ledge to ledge until he reached the valley floor. After landing, he took a moment to gape in wonder at the remainders of what he assumed to be the houses – small portions of stone walls, cooking utensils, earth stained clothing… and numerous humanoid remains. The sudden harshness of the sight he had had thrust before him turned his tail into matted knots in the space of a heartbeat. As his slinky eyes scanned each and every outcrop his throat vibrated with a deep, husky purr, thoughtful and analytical.

              He took a step forward, his prosthetic paw crunching on the autumnal fall. His flattened nose twitched as the aged smell of death and decay met him like a brick wall.

One step further, one step further, two steps, three steps… then it hit him.

              A sudden onset of dizziness and nausea washed over his mind, sending him down to one knee, stress pushing mercilessly against the insides of his temples; his mouth was becoming as dry as the dead leaves under his feet. He looked up, his neck straining like rusted hinges on a heavy door. All around him the leaves from the trees swirled in an upward, cyclonic motion as if possessed by haunting spirits. What’s to say they weren’t? This place was the very epitome of an untimely demise and trapped souls – it was creepy.

His short ears perked up suddenly atop his head. He swore that he heard voices calling to one another, but not to him. He listened more closely, his feline hearing picking up a cascade of sounds. A cold breeze caressed his face as if it was death itself touching him. An image of a raging inferno etched itself into his glazed eyes; screams echoed through his sensitive ears; the odour of ash and molten despair saturated his feline sense of smell, and then it all went.

He blinked furiously to try and regain knowledge of where he was. It had felt like the dream of an entire lifetime happening in a matter of seconds. His body was free again. However, something had changed in the air; the initial sense of wonder and curiosity had been replaced with unease and foreboding.

              San Kiln opened his mouth and instinctively hissed at the sight of fresher corpses lying across the site; bodies that hadn’t been there a moment ago. What the heck was with this place? There was more to it than met the eye. A crumpled up heap of somebody dressed in a black robe, a human he found out when he went and turned the body over, lay there with numerous trinkets and spoils clutched eagerly in his stiffened hands.