The Nightstone (17 page)

“I don’t see either one of those coming to pass,” Kehet said. “Let’s just say I leave, promising to not reveal your secret.”

“There are rules we have in place to protect our secret,” Izzy said. “The punishments are harsh, but you understand we all risk execution if discovered. I highly suggest the memory wipe. I’m told it’s painless, or at least if it’s not you won’t remember the pain, so it’s the same thing in the long run.”

Heather stepped towards Izzy. “My companion isn’t trying to be disrespectful of your, well I guess it now our, traditions. But, he’s correct, you won’t be killing him and you won’t be able to wipe his memory.”

“Oh?” Izzy said. “Is he of another magical college? I suppose a Mage could enchant protections but he doesn’t look like a Mage.”

“Does he look like a god?” Heather said.

Izzy stepped back towards them then walked around Kehet slowly. “No, but I suppose now would be a good time for introductions. Who, exactly, are you?”

“My name is Heather Feystal,” she said then added, “of Blackstone. I’ll let Kehet introduce himself.”

“But,” Kehet said, realizing Heather had given him away.

Izzy was quick to take in what the name meant. “The Founder?” she asked.

“That’s me,” Kehet said.

“I don’t know anyone who’s seen you in person,” Izzy said. “I’ve seen over two hundred gods, mostly lesser, but I’ve seen most of the founders in their temples. I’ve never seen you.”

“I don’t have a temple,” Kehet said. “I could change forms, but I’d have to step out of this alcove and onto the walkway to do so and I wouldn’t be able to turn around.” The walkway was only wide enough for a single person, and that person should have good balance.

“Or I could have Lucian test the theory that fire wouldn’t hurt you,” Izzy said.

“Well, it would probably hurt if Lucian is more powerful than Heather,” Kehet said. “But I’d get better and I’d probably be upset.”

“You know,” Izzy said, pausing as if to appear thoughtful, “I think we can trust our new student’s word on this.” Izzy went to stand by a bare, flat wall. “Heather, come place your hand here.”

Heather walked over and put the palm of her hand against the wall. The wall began to glow red, then after a moment changed to orange then yellow. It cycled through the colors of the rainbow. Izzy gasped when it hit blue and started to shake when it hit purple and then turned solid black. Izzy shouted for Lucian to run to them. By the time Lucian arrived, the wall had shifted again to white. “Does this mean what I think it means?” Heather asked. “This is a measure of my capabilities?”

Lucian took a deep breath. “It is a measure of your potential. I thought I was the most powerful Wizard alive and I measure somewhere between green and blue. You are a ninth circle Wizard. Even when Wizards walked the land freely, the tenth circle has only survived to adulthood twice. Ninth are almost as rare. In your lifetime, there will not likely be a more powerful Wizard. We need to get you started on the calming classes lest you not only kill us all but bring a good portion of Melnith to the ground. I imagine if you exploded it would be a radius of hundreds of paces.”

“The destruction was about a league across,” Kehet said. “The crater itself was about a fifth of that.”

“And you survived?” Lucian asked Heather.

“I’ve kept a fire protection spell on my body since my forth summer,” Heather said.

“You mean you recast it every day before you use your magic?” Lucian said.

“No, it’s been on since that summer,” Heather said. “I cast it as a self-maintaining spell.”

“Such things would take so much power,” Lucian said. “I am near fifth circle, but at ninth you are more than ten times as potent as I. We must be careful with you. What about the man?” Lucian asked, looking at Kehet.

“He’s a Founder,” Izzy said with a shrug. “He’s not a Wizard, but Prince Kehet of the Unicorns. It seems our Wizard Supreme has friends in high places.”

“Will it be okay if I stay with Beldithe during my training?” Heather asked. Kehet noticed the impish tone in her voice. She was just adding to Izzy’s astonishment.

“Once initiation, mostly calming training, is complete, you will be free to come and go as you please,” Lucian said. “Most people master the calming techniques in less than a week.”

 
Heather grabbed Kehet’s hand and squeezed. “Why am I thinking that between the lines of what you’re saying is that I won’t be leaving this facility at all until then?”

“We take calming seriously, it saves lives,” Lucian said. “Apparently this is a concept you should understand. We’ll start your training as soon as Prince Kehet leaves. Take your time saying your goodbyes; it may be several days before you see him again.”

Heather kissed Kehet then said, “Tell Beldithe where I can find you.”

“That wasn’t a joke?” Izzy asked.

Kehet ignored the Matderi smith’s intrusion as did Heather. “I won’t be far.” He stepped away from Heather, still holding her hand until the distance between them was too great. He blew her a kiss and headed up the stairs. Izzy followed him.

“We don’t judge here,” Izzy said, “but do you mind me asking if there were any casualties when Heather lost control of her fire?”

“Blackstone,” Kehet said.

“Isn’t that the town Heather said she was from?” Izzy asked.

“She is from there,” Kehet said.

“Are you telling me she destroyed an entire town?” Izzy asked.

Kehet didn’t feel like answering. He just climbed the stairs and left the smithy. On the street Kehet looked each way and decided that there was nothing he needed back at Beldithe’s temple. He had more questions for the goddess, but wasn’t sure he cared about the answers at that moment. Maybe he could find a way out of town and run for a while.

CHAPTER 22: PANTROS

Until they’d arrived in Whisperwillow, they’d been sharing the Abvian Highway with other travelers; wagons and carriages often filled the road going in both directions as far as Pantros could see. News of the Vulak raids must have reached others at or near Whisperwillow. Since leaving the town they hadn’t seen anyone travelling the same direction as them and few travelling east.

By the morning of the sixth day, they had the road to themselves. They’d been forced to camp two nights when fresh horses couldn’t be found. Farms had been abandoned, but not all of them left their animals behind. As they rode into a large village, they heard the sounds of combat.

“I thought we’d be past the danger by now,” Pantros said.

“Me too,” Sheillene agreed. “But it seems we were wrong. It sounds like a small fight.

“We may be able to ride through,” Faren called back from the driver’s bench. “Should I push the horses to a gallop?”

David leaned out a window and said, “Not just yet, but be ready to.”

“I can see the fight, behind that building over there,” Faren said. “It’s a small force of Vulak. I can’t see who they’re fighting Do we stop to help?”

The sounds of combat grew louder. Pantros was shocked to hear the clash of steel interspersed with laughter, and he recognized the laughter. He called to Faren, “Stop!” He said back to Sheillene and the others near him, “That’s Bryan.” Without waiting for the carriage to come to a complete stop, he opened the door and leapt from the carriage and drew his sword.

Rushing between the village buildings, he emerged by a well. Sure enough, Bryan stood in the middle of the Vulak, swinging a huge sword. The Vulak were leaning forward then jumping back, afraid to close with Bryan. Pantros saw several wounded Vulak lying nearby. He started running to help Bryan when two Vulak carrying armfuls of whatever they’d just scrounged came out the back door of a building. They dropped their bundles and drew swords. The weapons were not pretty, but looked heavy and sharp. Pantros tried to flank around them so they couldn’t both swing at him. He swiped his rapier at the closest one’s calf, but the Vulak stepped back. These were not the brutish mindless monsters of the stories. The two were working together, making sure to not let Pantros flank them. He kept trying to get a better position, but one would wheel back while the other wheeled forward to keep them both facing him. When they did both face him they advanced until Pantros forced them to pivot again. Pantros found himself retreating more than circling them. He didn’t want to engage two at once. The few swipes he managed to attempt were knocked aside. When a Vulak swung at him, he dodged back.

Then the two separated a little, but maintained their position relating to him. They were circling him. He leapt toward one of them only to have the other close to his side. He managed to prick his blade into one’s thigh, but barely enough to draw blood, before he had to roll away.

Pantros saw two men rush up behind the Vulak, to keep the Vulak attention, he lunged at one. Before the other could swing at him, a large blade cut into it from behind, nearly splitting its torso. Sword blades also erupted from the other Vulak’s chest. The first Vulak fell silently while the other fell with a scream that stopped abruptly. Marc and Bryan stood behind them. They were admiring each other’s kills.

“Kidney and Heart,” Bryan said. “Just to make sure he died a quick, painful death?”

“A heart shot is risky,” Marc said.
“Too many bones.
The kidney was just to make sure the Vulak wouldn’t be willing to fight if the heart shot failed.”

“Bryan?” Pantros asked, not because he was unsure of his friend’s identity, but because he was unsure why his friend was there.

Bryan’s tone was the usual aloof when he said, “Right about now I’d be bragging about how I saved your life if Shelly hadn’t just saved mine.” Pantros looked over to where Bryan had been fighting to see two Vulak bodies had arrows protruding from them.

“Don’t think that’s a debt that can be paid to someone else,” Sheillene said. “And I don’t know why you insist on calling me ‘Shelly’. That’s just one of the things I didn’t miss about you on my last visit to the hedgehog. Only my sister calls me that. To you and everyone else I am Sheillene.”

“Okay, Shelly,” Bryan said. “I’ll call you Sheillene, Shelly.”

Sheillene growled. “Are there more around?”

“No,” Bryan said. “I found their camp last night and followed them until they started ransacking the town. They split up to each pick their own building to loot and I picked them off one by one. I’d killed six before the others caught on and started working together.”

“I like ‘Shelly’,” Marc said. “It’s a much cuter name. It takes the edge off. Someone like you could use a few soft edges.”

“Don’t go there,” Sheillene said. “I am plenty soft when I can be, but my lifestyle needs those edges for protection. I am not Shelly, I am Sheillene.”

“I’m just saying, ‘Shelly’ is friendlier.” Marc shrugged.

“Friendly is something a Hunter only pretends to be to get close to a bounty,” Sheillene said. “Friendly is not a reputation a Hunter can
afford.
”

“But it would be good for a bard,” Thomas said, walking up to the group. Tara was at his side, her sword still in her hand.

“Your sister’s husband came back?” Bryan asked Pantros.

That Bryan knew when he did not caught Pantros by surprise.
“Um, yeah, kind of, anyway.”

*We should talk about your techniques when you are outnumbered.*

Pantros ignored his sword. Instead he asked Bryan, “Why are you here?”

“I got a letter that said you needed me,” Bryan said. “It said to meet you in Melnith. The letter said it was from you.”

“I didn’t write a letter,” Pantros said.

“It was probably me,” Thomas said.
“The same me that left me the ring.”

Pantros nodded.

“How can one sentence make me so confused?” Bryan asked. He tore off part of one of the Vulak’s pants and wiped the blood off his sword. He then held the rag toward Pantros only to pull it away when Pantros reached for it. “Doesn’t look like you need this,” his friend said then tossed the rag to Marc.

“I drew blood,” Pantros pointed to the tip of his sword. “At least I didn’t get cut. You have a few scrapes.”

Sheillene examined a few cuts on Bryans arm. “Those need to be washed and wrapped,” she said. “Vulak do not clean their weapons.”

“I know,” Bryan said. “This wasn’t my first encounter with Vulak. I am The General Prime of the Novarran Army, you know.”

“In less than a year?”
Sheillene said. “I’ve heard of General Bryan, I’d never have thought you and he were one and the same.”

“Okay, so it’s a purely honorary rank,” Bryan said. “Dane, it seems, was a retired Admiral in the Novarran Navy and some of Ignea’s pirates knew that. Thus he couldn’t sail on a private merchant vessel. So we had to go over land. They needed him there because the Proconsul trusted him and he put Dane in charge of all the Military. He had other friends on the Council who owed him and since they didn’t want to actually trust me with power, but they agreed to set me up with a pension. It seems making the trek through Wylde Woodlands is impressive enough to earn a respectful rank. I sit in on Dane’s planning sessions and meetings, but I don’t talk much.”

“You went through the Wylde Woodlands?” Sheillene asked. “No one makes it out of there.”

“We almost didn’t,” Bryan said. “I have quite the story to tell you, if you’ll hear it.”

Sheillene rolled her eyes and smiled. “I’m a bard, asking me if I want a new story is like asking a child if they want candied pastries. We have two or three days left to Melnith. But, we should get back in the carriage and be on our way.”

Bryan pointed at the piles of loot the Vulak had dropped on the ground. “Shouldn’t we see if they have any valuables?”

“Those belong to someone,” Sheillene said.

“They used to belong to whoever lived here,” Bryan said. “But then they were stolen by Vulak. I’m only thinking to see if the Vulak we killed can provide a spare penny or two.”

“No, Bryan, we don’t have time. No need to risk another attack by waiting around,” Pantros said. “There can be nothing we need there. I’m sure whoever lives here took the best stuff with them when they went to the city.”

“Alright,” Bryan said. “Let’s see this carriage of yours.”