To Be Chosen (39 page)

“Excellent, tell no one about this, and we will determine everything we need to know before making the discovery public,” Fenton replied, transmitting no further signs of anxiety.

Sherree ended the connection and faced the others. “According to Fenton Chen, D.L. means Determined Lethal. He has placed us under quarantine and is sending an emergency team.”

“That could take days,” Jerremy complained. “If whatever is in the box is deadly, we should be getting as far from it as we can.”

Joel was shaking his head. “A Senior Practitioner is the equivalent of an Oceanic in the Aqua Guild and can declare an emergency. He will assemble a team which will include sufficient members of the Zephyr Guild to speed the journey. I doubt we will have to remain down here more than a day, considering they can sail up the Hirus,” he explained. “I suggest the lid be placed back on the sarcophagus and we move to the other end of the chamber. By the way, Sherree, why was your face so red?” he just had to ask at the end.

“Because, like Jerremy, I thought we would be under quarantine for days, and Fenton made me sound like a petulant child after explaining what you just did. By his estimate, we will miss the mid-day meal, meaning his team should be here in the late afternoon or early evening,” Sherree replied.

“I like Joel’s suggestion about moving farther away from the lethal box,” Jerremy said, and then moved as far away in the sphere as he could from the sarcophagus.

The Accomplished of the Aqua Guild deferred to Sherree, even though he out ranked her and had complete control of the sphere. He could have moved wherever he chose and they would have to follow or swim. Sherree levitated the lid back onto the sarcophagus and then asked, “Would you conduct us to the southern end of t
he chamber?”

“Of course,” Joel replied.

The chamber had no where to sit other than the floor, so they leaned against the far wall and stared at the sarcophagus. The Accomplished of the Aqua Guild was about to place an amulet against his forehead. “Fenton Chen wants this to be kept private until we know what we are dealing with,” Sherree informed him. She could only inform, having no authority to command or forbid his actions.

Joel lowered his hand. “That is understandable. I have no intention of communicating with anyone not on the Tomlin Project. They need to know of the quarantine for their own safety. They’ll be looking for us, seeking relief after a mark or so of exposure to this spell,” he replied and then continued what he was doing. Whatever he said was silent and between him and the person with whom he chose to commun
icate, probably Martin Varroon.

Jerremy followed his example and informed Master Togan. “I told him what we know and he agrees with Fenton Chen about the quarantine. He is recalling everyone back to the surface until the team of experts arrives and he also expressed his congratulations for discovering the contagion, along with his condolences for us being quarantined, but mostly he was thrilled about the sarcophagus,” the Serinian told them.

Sherree did not look forward to staring at a marble casket for marks on end. “Jerremy, did you hear about Samuel? He lost his hand in a confrontation with the Serpent Guild,” she began, and when he indicated that he had not, she went into greater detail.

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Fenton Chen was pleased by the way he allowed a small amount of anxiety to flow through the amulet, it was just enough to convince the trusting Intern to believe him. Whatever was inside that silver box belonged to Della Lain and had to be important. The only object he could think of, was the famous flute, especially since it was double warded, having an extra amulet. It reminded him of the trumpet, having a powerful shield on it, which Serena Lowell and her team could not break, and was in the process of transporting. It was time to report up the chain. He placed an amulet against his forehead and sent, “Fenton Chen to Serin Gell, I have important news.”

“Is there a problem concerning the trumpet?” the Three-bolt Accomplished replied.

“No, all is proceeding as planned. My contact will soon snatch the crescendo from Lowell and head for your Nest in Pentrosa, leaving a trail for Daniel Benhannon to follow,” Fenton informed him. “This communication is about a new discovery. My Intern has found a sarcophagus containing a silver box with the letters D.L. in scripted on the lid.”

A sudden flood of emotion flowed through the mental link. It was a pity the Accomplished who had mentored and recruited him into the Serpent Guild had such little control over his communications. “It has to be the flute. Where is it?”

“In the sunken city beneath Lake Tomlin, there are seven Accomplisheds in the compound and three quarantined in the central building under the water. They are in what was a hidden chamber several levels under the main hallway,” Fenton reported.

“I will be there with a team within the mark. Fenton, you have done well. Befriending the heir to the Ducaunan throne so she would confide in you led us to the trumpet and now, your contacts will gain us the flute. My web is fully functional, all my contacts have reported in, with those two crescendos, my appointment to Maestro is assured, and your place as my second is also secured,” Serin Gell replied.

“Angelina Ducalin and Sherree Jenna have no idea the person to whom they come to for advice is in the service of the Supreme Maestro. Cleona will die of Lethal Growths within a year, so we still need the heir, and my Intern has proved useful, I hesitate to lose her services.”

“I agree concerning the heir to the Ducaunan throne, but not the Intern. Her fate will be determined after I arrive on the scene,” Serin Gell replied. It was clear he still held a grudg
e from the loss at Bashierwood.

Fenton had hopes of molding Sherree after his own image, in time he may succeed, especially after the flute is destroyed and the Supreme Maestro is freed from imprisonment. “She can still be a valuable resource.”

“Agreed, Sherree Jenna can still be useful, I will not kill her,” Serin Gell replied without a trace of emotion. “Order your contact to take the trumpet, I must have it. Be careful what you report to Vance Cummin, he must not suspect your loyalty still lies with me, and tell him nothing about the flute.”

“It will be as you say,” Fenton sent, and then severed the connection.

Fenton passed on the order to snatch the trumpet to his contact and learned a few bits of information worth passing on to Vance Cummin. That combined with an earlier report from another contact traveling with Daniel Benhannon would fill out his report nicely. He chose the amulet given to him by the other Three-bolt Accomplished in the guild and sent, “This is Fenton Chen with new information.”

“Make your report,” Vance replied promptly.

“Serena Lowell has the trumpet and is on her way to Rivertown. They are following the Tollus River and being pursued by Daniel Benhannon, a pair of Teki, and fifty Royal Guardsmen. Lowell’s team is only forty-three spans ahead of them.”

“She has not communicated with me since before leaving with her team. This is troubling. Why would she not report her success?” Vance replied. Troubled he might be, yet not a single emotion had been transmitted through the link, an excellent show of self-control.

“She lost all but five members of her team, more than half of the three hundred sasquatches, and all of her horses, this due to a few bad choices and imprecise commands, so now they have to walk along the river at a turtle’s pace. She chose Talenteds, not one possessing a single bolt, and so they cannot teleport without most of them dying in the attempt. Despite the losses, she does have the trumpet, but it is shielded in a casket, and beyond her ability to open,” Fenton replied.

“You have done well reporting this to me and your network of spies has proven to be invaluable. Know that there will be a high place for you in my administration. For now, good work, and keep me updated,” Vance replied.

“I will do so,” Fenton replied and then severed the connection. It is always good to cultivate alliances on both sides.

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Jerremy was saddened by the news of Samuel losing a hand during an encounter with associates of Serin Gell. Knowing the Teki, Jerremy was sure his friend wasted little time fretting over the loss and pressed on with whatever goal had been interrupted. He smiled at the thought, not the missing hand, but the tenacious nature of the man who had been his rival as a Talented, one who pushed him to excel, and who once stood shoulder to shoulder with him and Sherree at the Battle of Bashierwood. Who would have thought a common-born, a Teki, possessed such strength of character. Jerremy expected such things from the nobility, “with the title comes the responsibility,” or so his father often told him. He was forced to reassess his thinking concerning the common-born in light of meeting Samuel and later Daniel.

Jerremy concentrated on the marble floor and formed a bench long enough for all three of them to sit on, no point in being uncomfortable while they were under quarantine.

“Well done, Stone Guild,” Joel said as he sat down. The man rarely called Jerremy by name, mostly choosing to refer to him by guild affiliation.

“The elderly need their rest,” Jerremy replied in an off-handed way.

“So do the young,” Sherree remarked as her bottom came down beside the Two-bolt Accomplished.

Jerremy sat and tried not to look at the sarcophagus or think of its lethal contents. So many designs filled his head, buildings, and bridges, all sorts of ideas, and dying would bring them all to a crashing halt. He did not fear death, per say, he faced that at Bashierwood and proved to all, and mostly to himself, that he could stamp down fear and do what was necessary. Even so, he had ambitions to fulfill, a reputation to build, and a need to find his place, a high place, in the upper levels of the guild, maybe that would finally fill the loss.

“I imagine this is not the way the son of Lord Jerrome and Lady Aurora expected to be spending his days,” Joel stated. The common-born Pentrosan, like many before him, seemed to feel the need to say things like that, as if it was his duty to humble those born above him. Attitudes like that were supposed to be left behind along with all family ties once a person’s Potential is discovered and they are brought to Aakadon, but some feelings and notions take longer to bury than do others.

If they had been properly educated, perhaps they would know how to deal with persons of higher birth. Jerremy focused up at the hole he made, the one granting them access to this chamber. “That’s because the imagination of one born of peasants is limited, else you would know how it feels to be the former heir of a shipping empire. Having your Potential discovered was a giant step up the social latter, from a shack to opulent quarters in the Aqua Guild, for me it was a temporary step down, but with the opportunity for greater advancement.”

Joel looked at him askance and then smiled. “I’m so fortunate to breathe the same air as one of such noble birth. Oh wait, this is my air, I may not be able to imagine how you feel about being here, but I can imagine what you will feel if I exclude you from this sphere.”

Jerremy laughed, the release of tension was just what he needed. “I did mention a limited imagination. You know, I could’ve made this bench for two and let you stand for however much more time we will be in here, or entomb you in marble. Of course it would be something in good taste. After all you are an Accomplished and I would not want you spending quarantine in quarters beneath your station.”

“Perish the thought. If I am to be entombed, make the structure a good one. I prefer one with a bed to stretch out on. Perhaps a little nap away from you youngsters will do me some good.” Joel played along, no doubt to kill the time.

“Why should I make you a bed when you can summon a cushion of air?”

“Appearances, one would think a nobleman would understand that,” Joel replied.

“How old was Cherilynn when you left for Aakadon?” Sherree asked out of the blue.

“Six,” Jerremy replied automatically. He missed his little siste
r. She followed him everywhere.

“How about Jason and Joseph, how old were they?” the Lobenian continued her line of questioning.

“The twins were two,” he replied. “Why do you want to know?”

“When you mentioned taking a step down, I thought of your family rather than how many ships you would have inherited,” Sherree answered. “I think you miss the role of big brother more than the rest. I could see it back when you were entertaining the children of Bashierwood.”

“I only did that to get information out of them,” he lied.

“Thank you for correcting me,” she replied with a look in hers eyes that said, “You and I both know better.”

“I can use some entertainment. Stone Guild, lower your nose and amuse me,” Joel reentered the conversation.

Jerremy was about to glance away from the opening, thinking of a snappy come back, when a sphere of air suddenly filled the hole in the ceiling. “Look,” he said while pointing up.

Two cloaked figures descended, both with three lightning bolts on their silks. One was tall with a dark complexion, which would be Martin Varroon, the Ecoppian born Accomplished. The other fellow was shorter, his face hidden by the cloak, which was black with gold trim, and his guild affiliation was plain to see; the Serpent, and Jeremy only knew one Three-bolt Aakacarn belonging to that guild.