Secrets of Arkana Fortress (34 page)

              A soft, chilling murmur vibrated around her ears. She swivelled on her heels and darted a frantic look behind her. Her arms had arched back and her eyes had grown wide like a feral cat. There was nothing there.

              ‘Who the fuck is there? I heard you.’ Her voice had become harsh and raspy.

              An invisible hand grabbed her throat and shoved her to her knees. Whatever it was she was desperately clawing at it. She felt nothing there, but she was barely able to breathe nonetheless.

             
‘Bow before us, Vicana,’
a voice said, echoing and ethereal.

              She flicked back as the grip released itself.

              Spitting onto the floor, she scrabbled toward her desk and made a valiant swipe for the flask containing her newly created potion. She tipped it over her hand and felt the solid object from inside it land in her palm. What she had created was not her immediate concern now – whether or not it gave her some sort of magical power, however, was. She gulped it down dry and winced at the bitter taste. Her stomach wrenched, pain accompanying it as she began to feel a slight dizziness. This thing was fast to act. Her hands cramped spasmodically, her legs grew twitchy; her heart went at a thousand beats a minute, and her mind grew dreary, a thin opaque mist drifting across it.

              She cursed to herself – maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.

              Whoever the mysterious voice belonged to, Vicana was certain it wasn’t friendly.

              A sudden surge of something shot through her body like lightning. She gasped. It lasted only a few seconds before everything went silent; the only sound being her heavy breathing. She struggled to glance around, but saw nothing else in the room. Everything was coated in a pale blue light. She froze as something swirled about not far to her left. A black essence floated against the light in her vision, not taking any form whatsoever.

              ‘What… are you?’ she stammered as she made her way to her knees, the bottom of her dark red robe tangling around her ankles.

             
‘We are what you fear most. We want your service.’

              Vicana was certainly scared. She straightened up and flailed her arms about. ‘You’re not having me!’ she bellowed. Her hands began to glow orange. She looked at both of them with terror. Two jets of flame arced through the room and converged on the essence. An almighty flash blinded her, sending her backwards onto the floor.

              Another look against the blue light – the black essence was still hovering about.

             
‘A decent attempt for a non-magical creature,’
the voice hissed.

              Vicana groaned as her body gave in to the tiredness that had come over it. ‘Ugh… I suppose I should take that as a compliment.’ She lifted her head, flicking a lock of her hair out of her eyes. ‘At least show me some physical form if you wish to talk.’

              Silence.

              A wisp of smoke blew past her face harshly. Her hands cramped again and the blue light dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. She rubbed her eyes disbelievingly and looked around at the empty room.

             
‘You would be useful, Miss Slorin.’

              ‘How do you know my name?’ Vicana felt another pang of fear.

             
‘We have been watching you lately, more so than we had been doing so before. We know the sort of power you strive to obtain – the kind of magic you were destined to wield.’

              It was her turn to give the silent treatment. All the hard work she had put in, all the time she had taken with her experiments and finding the equipment, was potentially wasted. Were they offering the gift of magic to her on a platter?

              She got to her feet and leaned on the desk for support. ‘What are you offering? And what’s the catch exactly?’

             
‘We offer you the power you desire in return for your loyal and unwavering service.’

              ‘And who are you?’

             
‘We are the Providence. We know your dreams and we can make them reality… that is if you are willing to accept.’

***

Vicana opened her eyes and darted her attentions around her room. A mistake had been made somewhere along the line, and she finally began to realise what it was. A shudder went through her body as she stretched out her legs.

              Her mind wondered what she should do now…

Chapter 24

Byde flipped open a golden disc-shaped instrument and rubbed the underlying surface gently with his forefinger. He squinted as he moved the device closer to Mikos’s face, assessing any reaction that was magical.

              Mikos stared back at him sceptically, his eyes awash with boredom. He let Byde do whatever mysterious acts he wanted to while he grabbed a flask of water from the table next to the bed in their bare-looking, rented-out room. He took a couple of swigs of liquid and wiped his mouth dry.

              Suddenly he felt his shoulder explode with pain and heat. ‘Argh… what the hell?’ he exclaimed, clutching it tightly. His breath was already taken away and he could feel his face begin to burn.

              It all stopped. Byde looked at him with a slight blush. ‘Sorry about that, wrong incantation.’ He fiddled with the device again then began to rub the surface in a figure of eight motion.

              ‘What is that thing anyway?’ asked Mikos.

              Byde smiled faintly amidst the concentration. ‘It’s a little testing tool I made many years ago; I carry it on my belt. I designed it to test people for magical capabilities.’ He looked up. ‘If I use it in the wrong manner then I can utilise it as a weapon of sorts.’

              ‘Yeah I felt that,’ snorted Mikos.

              ‘This little wonder should be able to tap into someone’s magic and project it outwards into the surroundings so I can see what type of magic it is. For instance, if you had fire magic something would start burning; if you had two types of magic like water and healing then it some sort of moisture would fill the air and someone might start to feel a soothing warmth throughout their bodies… and so on.’

              Mikos nodded in understanding. He hoped nothing would go wrong.

              Byde went back to the device. ‘Let’s get on with it shall we?’

              This time Mikos began to feel light headed and had to rest his arms on the bed to keep himself upright. The ceiling swirled into a blur of colours before his eyes and his stomach turned upside down. Through the haze of confusion he saw something, something from his past. At least that’s what he thought it was – it was all very familiar.

              A black-haired man with dark brown eyes looked down at him wherever he was laid. Two gigantic hands lifted his vision closer – he was being picked up – and cradled him to the man’s shoulder. He could hear an infantile cry; it was his cry. This was when he was a baby, but he couldn’t recall any of this being told to him by his father. Everything in his mind told him that it wasn’t real, that it wasn’t him, but some echo from deep within said otherwise.

              He heard the voice so vividly.
‘Don’t worry little one, I will take care of you,’
it said.

              Mikos could hear the cries again, this time feeling them run down his cheek. He suddenly realised the truth – this man was his father and, at the same time, was not. He had been found on the riverside when he was just a baby.

              ‘Damn it, damn it,’ grunted Mikos as he shook his head free of the flashback.

              Byde placed the device on the table and looked at his friend solemnly. ‘Was that your father?’

              ‘What?’

              ‘I saw all that too… the black haired man picking you up from beside the river.’

              ‘I don’t remember that at all,’ Mikos stated with a sob.

              ‘No surprise, you were too young. And obviously your father seemed to keep it quiet. Maybe he didn’t want to make you feel different or something.’

              Mikos gritted his teeth and turned his head to one side. ‘Maybe,’ he uttered painfully. What was all this supposed to mean? Where was he actually from? He looked into Byde’s eyes, his face hot with confused tears. ‘What the hell does it mean?’

              ‘You were adopted.’

              ‘I know that much, Mr Obvious… I mean, who am I?’

              Byde rolled his tongue around his mouth and folded his arms. ‘You are a… caster… of illusion… and maybe perception,’ he replied, a slight shake in his voice.

              He didn’t know how to take Byde’s manner – the blank expression and tone of voice was unsettling. However, something clicked in his mind. ‘You’re happy about this discovery, aren’t you?’

              Byde stayed expressionless.

              ‘Yes you are… I can tell.’ Mikos realised what Byde was doing – another test.

              ‘Have you ever felt that you could see through people? Or read them quickly? You’re very much a people person and a life of trading is ideal for using your powers of perception.’

              Mikos stood up and walked over to the window. ‘You’re making it sound like I already knew about this stuff.’

              Byde chuckled and shook his head. ‘Oh no, that’s not what I’m saying at all, Mikos. I would say that your magic guided you to your choices in life without you being aware of anything.’

              ‘You make magic sound like a sentient thing.’

              ‘You’d be surprised at what magic powers can do without the user knowing.’

              ‘You still haven’t full answered my question, Byde. Who am I? Really?’ he asked in a low voice. He stared out the window still, watching a group of four Hocknis guards playing a sneaky game of cards on an upturned crate, tossing the odd rubos coin into the middle.

              Byde strode up behind Mikos and grabbed his wrist. He stabbed his palm with something sharp.

              ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he snapped, pulling his hand away and sucking on the blood oozing out of his hand.

              His hand was yanked from his mouth and the small wound was squeezed to let the blood come out. Byde guided Mikos over to the table and took up the small device again. He let the dark red liquid drip onto the surface of it.

              ‘That’s enough,’ said Byde and let go of his friend’s hand.

              ‘OK, what now?’

              ‘We let the blood work its way about.’

              ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

              ‘Just watch.’

              They both observed the splatter of blood on Byde’s device. Mikos was slightly taken aback when it began to move by itself, bubbling and slopping in a circular motion until it finally started to take a shape. The blood formed into an emblem of some kind – a picture of a fist with a crescent moon outlined in the middle of it.

              Mikos looked at Byde and noticed his half gaping mouth. ‘What is it? What’s that emblem about?’

              Byde looked at Mikos, eyes darting from side to side in frantic recollection. ‘That is… your caster crest. It represents a certain bloodline – your bloodline.’

              ‘And this emblem represents who exactly?’

              ‘Well, let’s just say that you are my… superior of sorts.’

Chapter 25

There was an old passage leading to the chamber above the Traseken records room. It was used as a last resort escape route and the outside entrance to it was secreted beneath an ancient sundial pedestal located just outside the inner wall of the city. Of course if anyone was fortunate enough to find it there was another level of security in place – a magically sealed door. Only the King, records keeper, or a Templar could access it, and even then not without a special medallion. There was, however, a third level of security – an incantation. On the off-chance that someone stumbled on the entrance, and had a medallion; and was not the King, records keeper, or a Templar; then a magical trap designed to disintegrate the person would activate itself. Only the right people knew the words and they were sworn to die before uttering them to an enemy.

              Luckily for Kelken, he remembered the incantation perfectly.

              In the darkness of the passageway he fumbled in his tunic for the medallion and held it up to the door. A low hum filled the cramped space as the precious metal reacted to the door’s magical seal. Kelken breathed deeply, recalling the words.

              ‘Toward light we stride, amidst blood and fire alike, our honour we find.’

              The medallion began to glow a deep red, the centre of it twirling in a circle. The door rumbled and creaked open like the jaws of hell, letting in yet more darkness from beyond its confines. Out of nowhere, torches lining either wall lit up, their yellow and blue flames illuminating every nook and cranny. Kelken walked forward, his footsteps echoing softly against the carved granite walls.