The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal) (34 page)

Saiyre stood and placed a hand on the box.  “This container is made of abelyr, a substance capable of nullifying magic.  Within are two smaller abelyr containers.  One contains the dragon child.  The other holds your squirrel friend, alive and well.”

My body went numb, and my heart started to pound.  “Max!  Max!” I called, letting the bundle under my arm drop to the floor as I frantically searched for a seam I could open the box from.

“He is unconscious,” Saiyre explained. 

Without even thinking, I shifted the box to one arm and reached out to roughly grab Saiyre’s robe.  I pulled him forward with a violent jerk.  Actually, I only tried to.  His magic had only helped so much with my weakness, so in reality, he barely even moved. 

“What do you mean?  You said he was alive and well,” I snarled, anger blossoming within me.  “If you have hurt him, I’ll . . .”  I trailed off at the glare Saiyre gave me.  It was only then that I realized that I was about to threaten a damn wizard.  Stupid me.

Saiyre casually looked down at my hand and back up, prompting me to sheepishly release him.  “Test subjects are generally kept sedated,” he explained, his voice patient yet his expression withering.  “He will awaken in a few hours at most but will remain groggy for a few days.  The solution they use to sedate cannot be affected by magic, and therefore it must be allowed to work is way out of his system on its own.”

“Why is he in the box, then?” I asked, anger seeping back into my words.

“He and the dragon child were kept within abelyr containers for the safety of the researchers.  There are spells over their individual containers that can be used to track them if taken from the Academy.  The larger one is nullifying those spells.  You must not open it until you put several miles between it and the Academy so the other two cannot be traced.”

What he said made sense.  Though I was disappointed that I couldn’t just take Max out then and there, I was too elated that I’d finally found him to let it get to me.  My anger began to dissipate like boiling water taken off the fire. 

“Why are you helping me?” I asked
, picking up the bundle I’d dropped.

Saiyre sighed deeply, looking as if it pained him to vocalize his next words.  “I need you to go to Gualain.  Salmaea claims that you may be the only one who can stop the war.” 

My breathing quickened, a surge of energy shooting through my entire body at the mention of Sal’s name.  Warmth spread through me, warmth having nothing to do with magic.  Anger gave way to anxious excitement. 

“You’ve spoken to Sal’?” I asked impatiently.  Saiyre arched an eyebrow when I referred to her as Sal’.  “Is she okay?  Can you take me to her?”  It seemed as if I’d taken up Til’s habit of spitting out questions faster than they could be answered. 

Saiyre closed his eyes, his mouth tightening as if trying to hold something back.  “The Grand Wizard has sent her to Gualain to lead a squadron of the Wizard Guard in the war.” 

The warmth that had filled my body turned into a winter-cold dread.  Sal’ was out there among the undead and enslaved who were under the control of . . . of whoever was leading this bid for power.  If Briscott was correct about how big Gualain’s army had grown . . .

Saiyre swallowed audibly and looked into my eyes.  His jaw line stood out as he clenched his teeth, a hint of anger smoldering in his eyes.  “I want . . . I want you to find Salmaea and make sure she is okay.”

“How do I find her?” I asked resolutely.

Saiyre looked to be one part relieved, one part rueful.  He pulled a ring from a finger of his left hand.  “Your friend, if he is as capable as Salmaea claims, should be able to track her using this.”  He held out the ring.

I awkwardly adjusted my grip on the bundle to take the silver band.  Lydiani’s sigil of two intertwining lines was etched repeatedly around its surface.  Lydiani’s the goddess of matrimony.  It was a betrothal ring.

My heart felt as if it were being dragged through loose shale as I considered what the ring meant.  “What is this?” I questioned, my chest tightening.  I really didn’t want to hear Saiyre’s answer. 

“It is a betrothal ring,” Saiyre began, confirming my assumption and replacing the loose shale with burning coals.  “Salmaea wears its twin.”

Chapter 28

Make New Friends, but Keep the Old if You Value Conversation

There was a lot going on in my turbulent thoughts.  I had Max back.  Briscott and Til’ were undoubtedly beside themselves and trying to figure out a way to rescue me despite my clear instructions otherwise.  Sal’s life was potentially in danger.  There was a war in Gualain that possibly involved my birth father, not to mention the walking dead and magically enslaved.  Somewhere, Raijom and Prexwin probably still had it out for me when they weren’t assisting in said war.

One thought dominated over all others, though.  One that was paltry in comparison yet still consumed me.  Anger, sadness, confusion, irritation, and a few dozen other emotions clashed in a war that left me broken and mangled inside as I thought about the woman I loved being betrothed to another.

“Korin,” Saiyre snapped as he slapped a hand on my shoulder.  With his other hand, he reached inside his robe, pulling out some wrinkled sheets of parchment filled with flowing script.  “Take these.”  The definition of anguish was plastered across his face. 

I swallowed the raging tempest of emotions tearing through my body and somehow grabbed the pages despite being loaded down with everything else Saiyre had already given me.  “And these are . . .?” I gruffly prompted

“Salmaea’s thoughts that I was never meant to see,” he replied with a pained expression.  “This is her journal.  I think you should read it.” 

I nodded numbly, tucking the pages away.  All I could think about was Saiyre’s betrothal to Sal’.  They must’ve been together before Sal’ had even met me, and yet she’d never mentioned anything about it.  Was that why she’d always kept a measure of distance between us?  What about our kisses and how close we’d grown?  Had she just enjoyed toying with my emotions?  Had our growing affections been nothing but a game to her? 

No, there
had
been feelings between us. 

Even if she didn’t care for me the same way I did for her, I felt the need to make sure she was safe.  I wasn’t happy about her deception, but I still cared for her.  My shattered heart would just have to get over it.

Maybe in the overall scheme of things, karma was just getting back at me for my past of single-night trysts, after which I’d disappear on my continued journey to find my birth parents.  That would be exactly what Max would claim when he heard about it, and with a few insults thrown in for good measure.  I strangely looked forward to it; it had been far too long since I’d been berated by my furry, wizard friend.

All right, I’m probably whining a bit too much here.  Besides, it’s not like I had the time to sit and wallow in self-pity.  I’d thought that Sal’ shared my feelings.  I’d been wrong. 
Simple as that.  Moving on.

As I digested all of this, a thought struck me.  “And why aren’t you going after her?”

Saiyre looked as if he were either going to break down crying or break my neck.  I’d say the odds were fifty-fifty.  “We do not have the time, and I do not have the desire, to explain myself to you.  I may be willing to risk everything I have worked for, but that does
not
mean I am willing to just throw it all away.”  He looked to the pages he’d handed me.  “I do not believe she would approve of me coming for her anyway.”  His voice was full of ire, but his eyes indicated that the fifty-fifty was drifting closer to seventy-thirty in favor of him crying.

“How do I get away without getting caught?”

“I have ensured that the back entrance to the stables is unguarded.  There is a paved road leading from there to a large gate that I will close behind you.  You will continue down that road to a private exit out of Auslin.  It will be guarded, but I am sending a wizard to assist you on your journey to Gualain who will get you through.” 

“Hold on.  What do you mean you’re sending someone with me?  What makes you think I’m going to let some stranger tag along?  Why should I even trust you about all this?”  I couldn’t believe the nerve of the bastard, trying to force me to take a wizard I didn’t know with me.  Okay, maybe I was still feeling the bitter sting of Saiyre being affianced to Sal’. 

Saiyre gestured towards me with a sweep of his arm.  As he did, I took note that he had a stockier build than me.  Sal’ had told me that she liked men with muscle.  Saiyre wasn’t
that
much bigger than I was.  Take away his magic and . . . I digress.

“I have given you what you came here for.  I have given you the means to locate Salmaea.  I am helping you escape instead of having you arrested.  I would think all of that would be sufficient enough to earn a measure of your trust.  Salmaea truly believes that you can do something about this war, and that is a good enough reason for me to see you safely to Gualain.  I only wish to provide you with a little assistance for your journey.  I would trust Ithan with my life.  You can trust him with yours.” 

Every fiber of my being wanted to whip out some witty retort, but Saiyre had a point.  Bastard.  If not for him, I’d have been soiling my pants and sicking up on myself while being dragged off to a prison cell.  There’s no telling what would’ve become of Max, Xalis, Til’, and Briscott if that had happened.  Despite his connection to Sal’, he did deserve a little trust.  Even if that meant allowing Ithan to join me.  Besides, if he turned out to be a problem, Max could probably take him.

“Okay,” I answered.  Saiyre smiled, but his tired eyes reflected the pain I’d seen in them earlier.  I felt a little guilty for being more concerned about my own feelings than how he must’ve felt having his betrothed sent into Gualain’s.  Only just a little, though.

“We have been dallying far too long.  We must get moving.  Follow me.”  With that, he started up the spiraling staircase.  Most importantly, who uses the word “dallying”?  Seriously.

Following Saiyre up the stairs wasn’t exactly easy between my weakness and all I had to carry, but I soon found myself through the hatch and inside the Wizard Academy stables.  The floor was covered with hay, and when Saiyre dropped the hatch behind us, I could see hay affixed to its top to keep it hidden when closed. 

The room held about ten stalls.  Narrow rectangular windows bordered the top of the walls, providing ventilation.  The sunlight shining through those windows gave the room a natural lighting that I heartily welcomed after the magical illumination found in most of the Wizard Academy.

“This is the Wizard Council’s private stable,” Saiyre explained.  I wasn’t surprised; the stalls were huge.  Hanging outside of each one were pristine leather saddles, bridles, and riding crops that looked as if they’d never been used.  The Wizard Council apparently didn’t do much horse riding.

We made our way to the arched, metal doors leading out of the stable, where Saiyre held up a hand to stop me.  He rubbed a knuckle across the left door and then rapped on it with a strange series of rhythmic knocks.  Immediately after, a similar sound echoed from the other side.  Saiyre pushed the door open, letting a chilly breeze rush into the room and send the scattered hay into a swirling dance across the floor.  I almost dropped everything in my arms at the sight that greeted me.  On the other side of the door was Telis.

“Telis!”
I called, rushing up to the light bay stallion, his black mane and forelegs shining healthily in the sunlight.  Setting everything I carried on the ground, I threw my arms around his neck.  Hey, it’s not weird.  Telis was one of my oldest friends, along with Max.  After all of the adventures we’d shared, he was family to me.

Telis nuzzled his white-striped face against mine.  Tears welled in my eyes, cutting like icy blades in the cold air.  I grasped his bridle and leaned my forehead against his.  “I am so happy to see you again, friend,” I whispered.  Telis gave a snort of excitement, stamping excitedly as I leaned away.  He was already saddled and seemed as eager to be off as I was.

“That is your saddle and bridle he is wearing.  All of your belongings are still in the saddlebags,” Saiyre said, stepping up beside me.  “He has been cared for during his time here.  He has been outside with the stable masters daily and has been well fed and groomed.”  From the look of Telis’s shiny coat, Saiyre wasn’t lying.

Saiyre pulled on my arm, turning me to my left.  “And this is Ithan Calign,” he announced.

Standing beside Windmane, the shaggy-maned dun gelding that the McAlwains had gifted a seeming eternity ago, was the man who’d opened the door.  He was lanky and looked to be as young as the students I’d seen inside the Academy.  Under an unruly mop of auburn hair, his rosy cheeks stood out like flames in a hayloft against his pale skin.  And I mean pale.  As in, snow-white pale.  Deathly pale, even.  The point is, he looked like the last time his skin had seen the sun had been . . . well, never.   He probably stood a head taller than me but it was hard to tell with the way he hunched over, his eyes averted from both Saiyre’s and mine.  He wore a fancy blue coat with velvety white trim over a white shirt.  Black leather boots came up to his knees, his brown pants tucked into them. 

My eyes were drawn to his shoulder where a featherswift owl was perched.  Featherswift owls are typically used for sending messages over long distances, though I figured this one was what he used to power his magic.  Its face was a sharp white, contrasting with its brown feathers, black eyes, and bright yellow beak.  A tether ran from one of its legs to one of the man’s black-gloved hands. 

“Nice to meet you, Ithan,” I greeted, holding out a hand.  Ithan’s eyes remained focused on his feet, but he reached forward to clasp my hand.  His leather glove was cold against my palm.  “My name’s Korinalis Karell, but call me Korin.  I suppose we’ll be traveling to Gualain together.” 

Ithan mumbled something I couldn’t make out in response. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Ithan’s next words came out something like “Mumble mumble blah blah Ithan Calign blah blah.”

My eyes went back to Saiyre.  “Really?  This guy’s supposed to
help
me?”

Saiyre pulled me off to the side and put his face close to mine.  “Do not let his timidness fool you, Korin,” he whispered.  “Ithan is quite an adept wizard.  He is just a little socially inept.  He was an Archivist.”

“And what does that mean exactly?” I asked.

“He worked in the Vault.  The Vault is where the Academy’s most valuable artifacts and books that have already been studied are kept.  Archivists keep all of the items categorized and monitor which ones are checked out and to whom they are checked out by.  They tend to stay mainly in the Vault, some even sleeping there.  Ithan has not been around many wizards since becoming an Archivist nearly a decade ago.”

My eyes snapped back to the bashful Archivist as he kicked at something on the ground, seemingly unconcerned about Saiyre and me.  “He looks so young.”

“Ithan is likely a decade beyond your years,” Saiyre insisted.  “He is originally from Gualain.  When the Grand Wizard announced that the Wizard Guard was to be deployed there, Ithan requested to travel with them to check on his family.  He was denied, since he has not had formal battle training. 

“However, I had him transferred to the Department of Magic Diplomacy.  He is being sent on an ‘official’ diplomatic mission to Josuan, though that is only a front to explain his absence from the Academy.  He is to assist you in finding Salmaea, and then he has leave to go to his family,” Saiyre explained.

“Well, as long as Mumble Lips doesn’t slow me, thanks,” I said, breaking away from our huddle.  Ithan’s cheeks reddened an even darker shade.  I imagined them bursting into flame at any moment.

“Don’t call him that,” Saiyre admonished, annoyance flaring in his eyes again.  “As I explained, he is a very adept wizard and, need I remind you, you are not.” 

Saiyre had a good point.  Being around Max the majority of my life had made me a little too comfortable around wizards and was doubtless the forefront reason for my loose tongue. 

“Now, you must be on your way before we are discovered,” Saiyre pressed.

As I bent to retrieve the possessions I’d laid beside Telis, I realized that I’d forgotten something very important.  “Wait, I’m here with two others.  I have to meet them first.”  The look on Saiyre’s face could’ve melted stone. 

“Tell me their names and where I can find them,” Saiyre commanded with a sigh.  “I will have them located and sent to you.”

“Their names are Tilrook Brinsir and Briscott Erlat.  Til’s a Kolarin, so he should stand out.  They’ll either be at Augril’s Stables and Smithy, or Idrolin’s Den,” I answered.

Saiyre nodded and turned to Ithan.  “Ithan, take Korin to Oliph’s Monolith.  I will have Korin’s companions meet you there.”  Oliph Anwith was the first Grand Wizard, named shortly before the Power Wars a millennium prior.  No idea why I knew that.  Must’ve picked it up from Max.

Mumble Lips mumbled something that I assumed to be an affirmative of some sort and awkwardly climbed atop Windmane as if he’d never ridden a horse before.  His featherswift owl stretched out its wings and let out an annoyed squawk. 

Embarrassingly, Saiyre had to help me climb onto Telis’s saddle.  Though his magic had helped dull the aftereffects of the potion, I still suffered from weakness.  Saiyre tucked Sal’s parchment sheets into one of my saddlebags and gave his ring to Mumble Lips . . . er, Ithan.  After tying my cloth-wrapped bundle to my saddle, Saiyre passed up the abelyr box, which was too large to pack away.