The Four Kings (25 page)

“This is a dodecahedron,” Demus said proudly.

“A dod – what?” Amanda asked.

“A dodecahedron,” Demus explained. “It has twenty vertices, thirty edges, and one hundred and sixty diagonals.”

“English, please.”

“Well,” Demus said with a laugh. “It’s a religious symbol to us, much like the cross is to Christianity. I just place twenty dots in the air the best I can. It takes years of practice to do with your eyes closed. When properly done, the dots all connect properly and you get this perfect shape. It shows your devotion to Elsedor. If you don’t do it right, it collapses and you have to start over.”

“Incredible,” Amanda said. So the wizards had their own religion. The geometric shape starting rotating slowly, twinkling in the air.

“This is also the shape in which the Five Continents meet.”

“Huh?”

“You know the five wizards’ councils around the world? Remember NAM, SUDA, AFRI, AJI, and AFRI?”

“Oh yes!”

“Well,” Demus said, gazing at the rotating figure, “this is the shape in which we meet. Inside that. You see these pentagon shapes. These are all screens. So the five councils can all meet in foursomes, and still see an image of everyone speaking. No matter where you are. Look up, look down, look sideways – you’ll see the speaker.”

“Like watching a movie on multiple screens inside a geodesic dome – a planetarium?” Amanda asked.

“That’s right! But ours is a complete sphere.”

She stared, transfixed by the sculpture. “So this is Elsedor. I remember when a few wizards – like Justica – would call out his name during moments of inspiration.”

“We’re not that much different from you Mortals in that respect.”

“So Elsedor was a real wizard? Or someone derived from myth?”

Demus smugly expressed his pride. “He was a real wizard. He died nearly a thousand years ago and constructed this fortress as the home of all wizards.”

Amanda walked away from Demus, her eyes still trained onto the majestic statue. “Tell me more about Elsedor.”

Demus spoke in an admiring voice, which came naturally to him as he described his revered god. “Before Elsedor, there were hundreds of wizards, but we all had no purpose. We had no governing structure. We had no
identity
as a people. Elsedor was the only man of his time to realize that we needed a vision, an inspiration.” His voice slightly cracked during his adulation. “He inspired us all. He told us all that we were wizards, and that we were superior to the Mortals who still controlled the Earth. While he didn’t create the games we all played, he institutionalized them. He created the Ten Doctrines. All the wizards know them by heart.”

Amanda formulated her next question, thinking quickly. She had to ask more questions, to find their weakness – if there were any. “Did Elsedor create the wizards’ council?”

Demus stared at her in amazement. “Very good. Yes, he did. You see the emblems of the Five Continents over there?”

Amanda directed her glance quickly to where he had pointed. For the first time, she realized that the pedestal was actually a pentagon. She circled the spectacle, taking about a minute to walk around the very wide exhibit. She saw all the emblems of the Five Continents chiseled into the marble, secretly admiring the ornate details of each “flag.” She recalled seeing these symbols before, while reviewing correspondence between the wizards’ councils.
Now it all made sense
.

“So Elsedor created the Five Continents?”

“Yes,” Demus confirmed. “And, he set up the five councils. In that way, a new era of cooperation between wizards all over the world began.”

“Very interesting,” Amanda said truthfully. “It’s very admirable that the wizards have so long ago made peace, while we humans continued to fight each other.”

Demus nodded.

Amanda pondered some more, attempting to capitalize on Demus’ emotional and awe-inspiring moment. She had to be careful too, in building upon Regi’s revelations, while not revealing to Demus where she had extracted this information. “So, Demus, we all know you Liberators have set three years as the terms in which you’d govern the world. Is three years also the same term for all the wizards’ councils?”

Demus shrugged, seemingly bored by the line of questioning. “Yup.”

Aha. The information had now been corroborated.

“And why three years?”

“Elsedor decreed that it be so.”

“So it was Elsedor’s decision. And do all the terms for the Five Continents run at the same time?”

“Yup.”

“Why?”

Demus held out his hands. “Honestly, Amanda, you’re such a policy geek sometimes. You should relax more.”

Amanda gritted her teeth, not wanting to lose this valuable opportunity. “I’m proud to be a policy geek.” She playfully held up her head high, making Demus laugh. “So,” she said in an alluring voice, “humor me. Tell me why they all run at the same time.”

Demus nervously chuckled. “Oh, okay. Elsedor wanted to wizards to work in perfect harmony. So he made the decision that we all start at the same time and enjoy the same turnover. It’s called
The Transition
.” Demus’ emphasis on the two words made it clear it was to be a formal, capitalized term.

“What day does it start and finish?”

“April thirtieth.”
More confirmation.

“Why that particular date?” Amanda asked, scowling at him.

“It was Elsedor’s birthday.”

Ah. So Elsedor was a very powerful influence on the wizards of today and remained so.

“And how do the wizards get chosen to sit on council?”

Demus pointed at her in a playful, mocking way. “You’ve asked me that before. That’s classified information. I’m still not gonna tell you.”

Damn.
This must be sensitive information, seeing that both Regi and Demus had refused to answer her on that issue.
Try again.

“Oh come on, Demus,” Amanda protested in a teasing way, tugging at his arm, “What’s the big secret? Why are you afraid to tell me such a boring fact like how the selection is done? Maybe through a game? It must be quite a thrill, perhaps, to fight it out for the honor of sitting on council?”

“Well,” Demus said, his face turning a little pale, “It has to do with something we wizards are not comfortable with.” He muttered, turning his head away, “No, no, I can’t talk about it.”

Damn again. So close
.

She attempted to get the conversation back on track. “I can see how Elsedor deserved all the accolades conferred upon him. He united all the wizards, didn’t he?”

Demus seemed relieved at the change of topic. “Yes, he was a very clever wizard. He did one amazing feat of magic that’s never been duplicated so far.”

Her eyes widened. “What’s that?”

He extended his arms out to the glowing spectacle. “This. This is the only feat of magic that has survived long after its wizard’s dead.”

Amanda was impressed. “You mean this is all still his magic?”

“Yes. Usually when a wizard dies, his magic dies with him. This is the only exception we know of. He truly
was
a god.” Demus kept shaking his head, marvelling at the statue and its round lava moat.

Amanda gently placed her hand over Demus’ as they both gazed at the flickering shadows on the god’s replica. “It’s really marvelous, Demus.”

The wizard gaped at his idol. “No one has been able to break his key.”

This was a huge revelation. A key?
Amanda turned her head, unsure of what she’d heard. “What do you mean?”

Her companion gulped as he’d realized he’d made a verbal slip. “Oh, nothing, Amanda. Nothing you should know.”

This denial only made her more frantic to know. “You mean the key to his greatness?” She glanced quickly at the pedestal: there was no giant keyhole anywhere.

“You could say that,” Demus nodded quickly.

Amanda pondered for a moment.
What did he mean by break his key? A key wasn’t supposed to be broken, was it? A lock, yes, maybe, but a key?

Demus grinned at her fascination with the statue. He squeezed her fingers over hers.

“Such a shame that you wizards won’t be governing us Mortals for much longer,” Amanda said, not really meaning it, but wanting to placate him.

Demus cocked his head and sported a dangerous-looking expression. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Amanda’s pulse quickened. “What do you mean?”

Demus laughed. He clasped her hand again and looked at her straight into the eyes. “Elsedor has always wanted wizards to reign supreme in this world.” He directed his gaze back to the colossal statue. His voice trailed off, “Elsedor has always longed for this day to happen. I’d hate to disappoint him.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

One year, six months post-Liberation

Indie steamed with indignation as the meeting went underway.

“Amanda,” she snapped, “this is the third emergency debate we’ve had on the so-called P.E.U. And this is supposed to be Games Day today.”

Amanda knew very well how much the wizards valued Games Day. They would have been willing to undergo a root canal extraction if it meant keeping Games Day on schedule.

“I realize today is Games Day,” Amanda attempted to stay neutral, “but it’s the third day in a row that the Patriots have amassed, demanding the Liberators engage them for battle. All of our people are wondering how you’re going to respond to this threat.”

“Same as before,” Indie retorted, “We do not deal with terrorists. It worked before. They released Leslie Bafia one day after her kidnapping, did they not?”

“Amanda,” Justica gently spoke, “there’s no point in responding to their threats. It’s safer this way, and we can’t make them martyrs.”

All of the participants at the meeting were aware that the television cameras were trained on them; their every nuance would be picked up by millions all over North America. The wizards, however, never seemed to feel the stress of being in such public view.

Demus sighed. “What’s the situation today?”

Amanda went over her report. “There’s an estimated 23,500 Patriots assembled on Osborne’s ten-thousand acre farm twenty miles west of Ellendale, North Dakota. The leader, self-proclaimed President, Jake Faulkner, has issued a challenge for the Liberators to meet them, in his words, quote, ‘man to man.’ They’ve been reported to have assembled a multitude of weapons, including AK-47’s, FIM-92 Stinger missile launchers, and AT4 rocket launchers. They’re considered armed and extremely dangerous.”

“What danger could they do on a farm that’s being offered as a battlefield by a supporter?” Demus asked.

Amanda considered her response. “None, as they’re not threatening the public. They say you’re all cowards, hiding among the heavens, and that if you have any claim to governance, to meet them in battle.”

Regi waved away the threat with the flick of his wrist. “They should know. They can never defeat magic.”

Justica spoke up. “Ignore them. Let them camp out for a few weeks and play war games. This isn’t worthy of our time.”

Amanda pleaded. “I know that’s how you feel, Liberators, but I’ve been inundated with calls and messages from my people to at least acknowledge the threat and to respond in a meaningful way.”

“Faulkner! That scum,” Indie said through her gritted teeth. “He deserves a lesson for blustering like a fool!” She suddenly had an idea. “I know!”

“What?” Demus asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“We will continue Games Day.”

The wizards all appeared thrilled.

“Right on their selected battlefield!” Indie finished triumphantly.

The three wizard comrades all clapped and hooted.

Indie stood up and turned backward, speaking very loudly but addressing no one in particular. “Calling all wizards of NAM. We’ll convene in five minutes. I repeat, all wizards of NAM, assemble at my command.”

Amanda gaped as she started at Indie, totally lost at what was going on.

Indie closed her eyes. “Let me think of uniforms. Yes, no, yes…” She started muttering to herself, as in a trance. Once she opened her eyes, she grinned and snapped her fingers.

Amanda nearly had a heart attack at what she saw next.

She was now seated, her legs splayed about. She became instantly aware of a heavy object on her head, and it blocked some of her vision above her line of sight. She felt suffocated in a heavy layer of what felt like tight-fitting blankets of wool. She was on a meadow, with the sun up at the ten-o’clock position. The air felt crisp and cool and it blew past her face, offering her some respite from the overbearing clothes that trapped heat above her skin. She uttered a startled outburst, and then gasped again. Right to her left were Indie, Demus, Regi, and Justica dressed in Napoleonic army outfits, straddling dark black horses.

The four wizards, plus Amanda, were wearing the most elaborate display of pomp in the history of military dress. They all were wearing
tenue de campagne
, full campaign uniform of the Napoleonic era. The women wore navy blue bicorn hats, which appeared triangular upon their heads, with intense red plumes sticking out. The men, Demus and Regi, wore hard hats called
shakos
, which appeared as slightly widening cylinders with protruding visors. Each
shako
ended in a flat top, with one blue
pom-pom
each resting above. A drooping thick wide white cord adorned the front of each
shako
.

And the uniforms! The wizards proudly displayed dark blue jackets, white cross belts in front, ivory waistcoats, white trousers, black gaiters, and dark tall leather boots. For weapons, each carried a bayonet and a saber, strapped to their sides. Each of the wizards carried a musket in one hand, pointed and ready to fire.

Amanda’s mind reeled at the information overload. She quickly glanced, seeing herself wearing the same outfit, but she wasn’t carrying a musket. As she peered out again in alarm, the next sight nearly made her fall off her horse.

All of the horses had no legs! These beasts of war, with black hide as dark as the night sky, hovered into the air! Horses’ heads, yes, enclosed by silver armor that extended all the way to their nostrils, and retracted as far back as the bottom of their manes. Beneath each saddle was a gold-rimmed, navy blue horse blanket which gave all the horses appearance of existing as they should. But to direct your eyes below the saddle level – was to expose yourself to mind-reeling horror. There was nothingness on the ground.