The Arcanist (36 page)

It was his presence.

Edouard had only ever felt that sort of awe inspiring presence once before. When he and his brother had stood before Tyrel. And both of them he understood, were the same. There was something to them that was more than just powerful. More than just dangerous. It was reality. It was as though where they stood was real, while all around them the rest of the world was only a reflection. They were eternal; all else was ephemeral. The powers did not concern themselves with the shape of the world around them. They did not have to. The world shaped itself around them. And just then as the dragon completed his stretches and headed for them, reality bent.

Of course the floor was trembling in awe as well as the dragon walked towards them. Shaking with fear, as were Edouard's knees. It took a lot of willpower for him to keep standing there, a respectful few feet or so behind Kyriel. All he really wanted to do was run. Though he might not have been able to. Not when his knees were threatening to fold up like a collapsing deck chair.

Soon – worryingly soon – Ascorlexia was standing before them, and Edouard knew their lives hung in the balance. They had disturbed a power, and that was always a gamble. Yet even as he imagined the end he couldn't help but notice how foul the dragon's breath was. His head was still a good twenty feet from Kyriel, she another few feet in front of him, but his breath was like a gentle breeze flowing past them, filled with the scent of carrion. Suddenly Edouard was back in the sewers.

“Servant of my sister, why have you disturbed me?”

His words did not sound good to Edouard. Because Kyriel was a handmaiden the dragon had paid her some little attention, but he still wasn't happy to do it. Edouard had to wonder just how much protection her position would really lend her.

“Great Ascorlexia, the Honoured Mother seeks your knowledge on a matter that may concern you both. She says that with your great learning you may be able to answer an ancient riddle.”

“Riddle? Not more of Yule's endless twisted words.”

“No great Ascorlexia. An actual event that causes puzzlement.”

Edouard was stunned at how calm Kyriel seemed to be as she stood before the dragon. How her words flowed so easily to a head that was larger than she was. Much larger. Actually the dragon's teeth were larger than she was.

“You felt the opening of a portal a bit over a month gone by. And you have surely heard that it was used to send an army of mammoths to harm a great many innocents.”

“I felt it. A minor annoyance as I napped.”

“And the second portal that was opened a few weeks later to allow an army of sprigs through to kill a great many more innocents?”

“Yes.”

The dragon wasn't concerned though. Edouard knew that. Mortal lives were nothing to him. And even huge spells of portal magic were as nothing to him. He simply wanted read his books and to sleep. He didn't want to be disturbed.

“We have learned that these things were done for one who wished to rule other mortals. But that they might have been done for him by one who hasn't walked the world in three thousand years. Far beyond the lifespan of any mortal.”

Those few words had at least attracted the dragon's attention. Edouard could see it as his eyes widened a little to show more of that glorious gold.

“And?”

“And we believe that the one who did these things might have been a Cabal wizard. Vesar the Corrupt.”

“Cabal wizards?” The dragon snorted with derision for some reason. A sound that echoed around the immense cavern deafening them all and shaking the floor.

Edouard resisted the urge to clamp his hands over his ears, thinking it might not be respectful. More importantly it might attract the dragon's attention. He was better off standing very still and praying.

“You know of them Great Ascorlexia?”

“Of course. I remember them, but the term pays them too much regard.” Not that the dragon thought any mortals were worthy of any regard. The very best he thought of any of them was that some of them made worthwhile servants. The rest were probably little more than snacks.

“Vermin is more apt. Vermin of the depths.”

“Depths great one?”

Kyriel was bold Edouard thought. Asking questions of the huge dragon as if it was normal, standing so close to him when he would have far rather been hiding behind a pillar instead of standing behind her.

“Underground caverns, mines, chasms. It's where they came from and where they should have stayed.”

The dragon sounded annoyed, as if they'd done something to upset him. Maybe they had. But at least he was answering her questions. His respect for her was minimal, but at least he held some for her Mother. Enough not to eat her at least.

“Rock gnomes. That was what they were called. Foul creatures. No respect for someone's home. They burrowed right into my lair one day, and then thought to steal my books. Imagine that! They sought to steal! From me!” He snorted at the very idea and the gust of foul air that blasted them was almost enough to knock Edouard off his feet. It very nearly made him choke.

“Still, they went down easily enough. Not much meat on them and a bit chewy as I recall.”

Edouard gulped nervously and tried not to think of that as he knew the same fate could still be awaiting them. Or him at least. Kyriel seemed to have some standing with the power because of her link to Tyrel. He wasn't so fortunate. But instead he turned his thoughts to what the dragon had said. Rock gnomes? He'd never heard of them. But he had heard that there were creatures down beneath their feet. Creatures of the depths.

Miners occasionally spoke of the dwellers of the deep, or whispered the legends among themselves. The very deepest mines were said to go down half a league or more. And it was there in those great depths that the legends had begun. That they were said to have found people. Strange people. People with white skin so pale that it could not face the sun without burning. People with the fangs of wolves in their mouths and the talons of eagles instead of fingers. With faces wrinkled up like weathered hide. Ugly people. But also strong people. Physically very powerful. And savage with it.

There were tales of pitched battles underground. Of miners abducted and stolen away while they worked. Tales too of deadly creatures unleashed like wolves on the miners. And sometimes it was said entire mine shafts had to be abandoned and sealed shut because of them.

He remembered as a child being told of a story that Lord Smallbridge had reported to the court. Of his gold mines in the Archaise Mountains to the north being overrun by strange underground creatures. He had told the court of having lost hundreds of miners in a day as the creatures had seemingly come out of nowhere.

It was because of the deep dwellers that mines were blessed. That priests of the Seven were asked to attend the opening of each new tunnel and give their deity's words. It was also because of them that miners picks had spikes. They could be used as weapons as well as tools. Miners though were a credulous lot believing in every wild tale they were told. Or so he'd thought. But what if they were right? What if there were people in the depths? People with knowledge and magic they didn't have on the surface? People who had found passageways to the surface?

And if there were such people, and one of them had made his way to the surface and then made himself an adviser to a would be king, to what purpose? What did he want? And perhaps more importantly, was he alone? Because if there was a race of them and Vesar was but one, then surely another was in the north where the mammoths had been portalled from, and perhaps a third in the west where the sprigs came from. Three rock gnomes.

Or were there more? The thought occurred to him as he remembered the others telling him of the soldiers in their veils. And he remembered those who had come to bring him to the court. At the time he had thought the manner of their dress strange, but worried less about it than he had about why he was being summoned. But suddenly he realised that helmets and heavy veils were almost as protective of the sun as hoods and priestly veils. And they both hid faces. Just as gauntlets like leather gloves might hide talons. Could these new royal guards also be rock gnomes?

Were there just three rock gnome wizards? Or was it an invasion?

Naturally he couldn't ask any of those questions. He didn't have the same status as the handmaiden with Ascorlexia. But Kyriel did a good job of asking them. Unfortunately Ascorlexia wasn't so good at answering them. For him it was the rock gnome's violation of his lair that mattered. The fact that they'd tried to steal from him. Again and again he returned to that act no matter how many times he was asked about the other things.

But then Kyriel asked another question and everything changed.

“A large round structure?” The dragon seemed upset by it for some reason. By Kyriel's description of what they'd seen being built in the city.

“Yes.”

“And you!” The dragon whipped his head around to stare straight at Edouard, making him jump. “Did you see this too?”

“Yes Great One.” Edouard answered him not sure he should. Kyriel had been very clear with him. He wasn't to speak with Ascorlexia. Just stand there behind her and be respectful. But she surely hadn't expected the dragon to speak directly to him. Neither had he. He'd hoped not anyway.

“I smell a spark of magic on you boy. Who are you?”

It wasn't a question so much as a demand and with the dragon's massive head so close to him Edouard gave into it immediately.

“Lord Edouard Severin Great One. I am fortunate enough to have a spark of fire magic.” Had he answered the dragon properly? Had he said too much? Edouard didn't know. But he did know that the dragon's breath was like a wind beating on his skin, and that his teeth were larger than he was.

“And you have met with Tyrel. I smell her on you as well like my sister's servant beside you. But you have also met one of these accursed rock gnomes.”

“Yes Great One. I have spoken with the Honoured Mother. And in the throne room of Therion I spoke with the rock gnome called Vesar. He accused me of crimes against the false king.”

“There is more! More of that meeting!” The dragon bellowed at him and the blast of his breath knocked Edouard back a step. “Do not think to play at words with me boy!”

“Sorry Great One.” Edouard was very scared by then. His heart was racing, the sweat was gathering on his forehead and running down his back.

“There are only two more things I can think of that might be of interest. The first is that the usurper king is my brother Simon.” The dragon snorted unimpressed. And after all Edouard realised, what did he care about a mere human king no matter who he was?

“The other?”

“That while Vesar was accusing me of the crimes I could not reach for my magic. I could summon it as always, but I could neither shape it nor release it. The same was true of the other sparks in that room.” And that still puzzled him. More than that it frightened him. He wasn't used to being without his magic. It made him feel vulnerable.

“And you thought to keep this from me!” The dragon snorted once more and this time Edouard was knocked back a good three paces.

“I did not think to keep anything from you Great One. I did not know it was important.” And though he gathered it was he still had no idea why.

“No you didn't think!” The dragon snorted some more, looking no less annoyed. “You didn't think to tell me that most important of all facts. That this pesky rock gnome has brought forth a piece of the death stone.”

“I don't know what that is Great One.”

“That, foolish boy, is what stole your magic. It is what steals all magic. And it is what the vile little rock rat is going to place at the heart of his typhoon gate.”

Death stone? Was that the same thing as a stone of silence? Edouard didn't know. But it sounded much worse. And what was a typhoon gate? He'd never heard of such a thing.