Chapter 9 Chapter 11

- Chapter 10: Arrow -

Jiam's condition remained unchanged the next day, even though Bautista cauterized the wound by applying the White Magic in his staff. The Eleshi had lost much blood and the wizard feared that serious damage had been done to internal organs. Earec wanted to press on immediately to Magalia where Eleshen healers could probably save Jiam's life but the husky trader reluctantly agreed to remain put when Bautista pointed out that they were only halfway through the Rapids of Meylin. Now Earec sat unmoving next to Jiam, holding his friend's hand, his lips silently moving in unceasing prayer. Black Muraga and the twins kept watch with weapons in hands, their faces grim, all joviality of the past week gone.

Meanwhile, Bautista took Keir aside. The mage's face was drawn tight and for the first time Keir saw anger flickering like lightning in the short man's green eyes. He spoke softly yet tersely.

"We will be staying here all day. I do not think we shall see the priests again soon."

"But what of Jiam? Will he live?"

The wizard frowned. "If he survives tonight, I think his chances will improve. However, the state of his health is not what I wanted to discuss with you." Bautista looked intently into the youth's eyes. "Keir, it is time to continue your training in the White Magic."

Keir tensed, apprehensive of any of Bautista's teachings. I know he's a great man, and my father trusted him, and so must I. But what he thinks the White Magic's for doesn't seem right. Neither does the way he uses it to kill.

The wizard gently laid a hand on Keir's shoulder. "Do not worry, lad. I do not want any arguments today about how you and I think the White Magic should be practiced." He reached into one of the bags at his belt and pulled out a battered, leather-bound manuscript.

Handing it to Keir, he said, "It is old and worn and there are pages missing or torn, but it may be the only chance I have to give you this."

Keir opened the cover and flipped through the yellow, faded pages until it dawned on him what he held. "It's the Holy Books of Emlaus! But why wait 'til now to give it to me?"

"Forgive me for being negligent in providing it for you earlier. I offer you no excuse. You must read it, however, if you are to grow in your knowledge and understanding of the White Magic."

"I want to, Bautista, but there's a problem."

"And that problem is...?"

Keir reddened, then blurted, "I can hardly read this. It's...it's too hard."

"Do you not know your letters, lad?"

"I do, but I haven't studied for six years, since my mother died."

"Ahh, yes. The incident which propelled your father into rebellion. I did not realize the seriousness of your situation. That can be remedied quickly." The wizard was silent for a few moments as he gazed about. Then he grabbed Keir's arm and pointed into the woods.

"Do you see that large boulder? Sit beneath that and begin reading as best you can the first book, the Book of Bacchide, until I send Black Muraga to tutor you."

Keir grimaced. "Do I really have to?"

"Do you want to control the White Magic?"

"Well, yes..."

"Then go. You will not be alone for long. Remember, start at the beginning and do your best." The wizard clapped Keir on the back. Keir wanted to argue further, but seeing the serious look on Bautista's face, chose not to and trudge off to the big rock.

Keir sat down in a sunny spot facing away from the river, resting his back against the large boulder and stretching his legs out comfortably. He found himself surprisingly eager to begin reading.

Perhaps I can find the truth about the White Magic in here, he thought. Of course I know the stories well enough. I sure loved it when Father or Jarik would read them to me at night. He smiled. And mother, too. I remember her making me read before breakfast. He shrugged off his reminiscing. Oh, well. I should get started. He turned to the first page and began to read the faded words out loud.

"The Book Of Bacchide The Wise, Chapter One. 'This is a hist..., a history of the...the Cylorites from the time of their...' I can't read that word. It sure is warm. Let's see, where was I? Uhm, 'in the new world in the first year. It was begun by...' What is that? Oh, Bacchide. 'It was begun by Bacchide, the son of For-something in the year 146 and, and...'" The book dropped from his hands onto his chest as his eyes closed and his head nodded.

*****

Keir dreamed. He was someplace familiar. A green hill that he struggled to climb. His legs seemed leaden as they almost swam through tall grass up the impossibly steep slope. The zenith was so near, just a few steps away, but he couldn't reach it. Then he was there. It was broader than he remembered. He must go west to find something, to find what? Before he knew what it was he searched for, a white wall appeared, baring his way. He turned north, east, south, but always the wall appeared to block his efforts. Then he realized that the peak was no larger than a garden and that the wall had hemmed him in. He was trapped! This was not the place he remembered!

Abruptly, the wall became a cage and he was a prisoner. And then the presence came. It was no more than a mist, a black mist empty of everything save a malevolent hatred. The mist wanted him, wanted to devour him. He wondered if the cage bars truly imprisoned him or if they protected him. Then the cage rattled. The mist had enveloped the hill, even the ground beneath his feet. Fear tore through him like a winter storm as the bars pressed in on him. There was something out there! Something greater than the mist. He screamed and the cage shook violently, threatening to collapse...

*****

"Wake up, boy! Wake up!"

Keir cracked open his eyes. A dark figure kneeled above him. For a brief moment, terror nearly burst out of him in a scream before he realized it was Black Muraga.

"Dear Evesthar, it's you!" He grabbed the knight's arm and took several deep breaths to calm his pounding heart.

"You were having a nightmare, boy. It must have been something awful to make you shake like this."

Although the details of the dream were already slipping away, the memory of the horrible mist and the being he had briefly sensed stayed with him.

"Please take me back. I don't want to be alone right now."

"I understand. We can work on your studies just as easily in camp as here." Black Muraga picked up the Holy Books of Emlaus then extended a hand to pull Keir to his feet.

*****

As the sun sank that evening, Jiam's condition worsened. The company slept little during the seemingly endless night. Then, as the sky lightened, Earec cursed softly when Bautista slowly lifted his head off Jiam's chest and glanced sorrowfully at the husky Eleshi.

In order to fulfill Eleshen tradition, Earec tenderly laid his friend's body in one of the priests' canoes they'd captured, crossing Jiam's arms and combing the silky blond hair into place. Then, as the others stood silently watching along the shore, he paddled out in another canoe, a rope towing Jiam's funeral boat behind him. Reaching the middle of the river, he halted, put away his paddle and untied the rope, then faced his friend for the last time.

For a long while he sat gazing at Jiam's face, tears cascading down his own. Jiam looked so peaceful, so calm. Earec knew his friend's pain no longer hurt him but the pain in his own heart was overwhelming. To have lost not only his brother but also his best friend within three days, it was too much to ask of any being. He decided that until their deaths were avenged and justice served, he would never rest.

"Farewell, my friend," he murmured. Then, tilting his head back, he gazed at the sky, which had grown stormy again.

"Unto the Gods of Vestal do I commend the spirit of Jiam Sheath. May this boat guide him safely to your halls." Then he pushed Jiam's canoe towards the second half of the Rapids of Meylin, wiping tears from his face. He watched until the boat slipped between two large rocks, then picked up his paddle.

After reaching shore and accepting the consolations of the others, Earec pulled Keir aside.

"I'm gonna see this quest of yours to the end. I won't let my soul rest until both Teivos and Pranzik are dead and I know that their souls are rotting in Meth."

Keir knew it was useless to argue. "This isn't going to be a quick journey, you know."

"No, it won't be. But I will have my vengeance even if you are destined to kill those two bloodsuckin' murderers. It'll be my duty to make sure that you kill 'em or else I'll kill 'em for ya."

Keir smiled and extended his hand. "I'm glad that Teivos and Pranzik have gained such an excellent enemy."

Earec shook Keir's hand firmly. "As Evesthar would have it, so shall it be done."

*****

The sky was less overcast when the remaining six finally resumed the last leg of their deadly journey down the Zon River. There was no sign of any further pursuit from the priests and by the time they had safely navigated the second half of the Rapids of Meylin, the sun had burned away most of the clouds. The rest of the trek was easy and although they often laid back and relaxed, Keir noticed that no one ever eased their vigil. Black Muraga worked as often as possible with Keir on his reading skills, which came back quickly under the knight's stern tutorage.

As they pulled in their oars for a lunch break the next day, Keir called out to the Brimulung for another story rather than give Black Muraga the chance to pull out the Holy Books. The twins conferred for a moment and then Brobin spoke up. "All right, Keir. My illustrious brother Brabin will relate to you the most exceptional tale of Prince Komifi, an ancestor of ours, and his marvelous escape from the horrid Oomgla city of Morughag."

"Oh no, my highly celebrated sibling," protested Brabin. "I could never deny you the privilege of telling that mighty epic."

"But my exalted brother, you are so masterful, so eloquent in the reciting of that glorious tale."

Exasperated, Keir yelled, "Oh be quiet! I want to hear the story. Brabin, you tell it."

"Very well. But you are truly missing the excellence of my dear brother Brobin's story weaving. Still, I am willing to make a feeble attempt." The Brimuli settled back, lying his paddle on his lap.

"Many many years ago, Prince Komifi, the youngest son of King Dwibrin II, was hunting in yonder Winter Mountains one of those fine autumn days when all the leaves are changing to red and orange and yellow and the air is crisp and clear with blue sky overhead. He was hunting for the elusive Black Bear of Deferiet, whose pelt many have sought and perished.

"Now, as Prince Komifi followed the tracks of the mighty bear into a deep ravine where only thistles and brambles grew, he became aware of a great shadow cast across the sun's bright beams. So intent was he on tracking the bear that he had forgotten to keep an eye and ear open for danger. As he glanced up and unslung the shield off his back, he spotted a trio of ugly Oomglas standing atop the southern lip of the cliff. He said to himself, 'There are but three of the brutes. I shall kill them and then be on my way.'

"But alas, four more suddenly appeared on the northern lip. Prince Komifi looked for an avenue of escape but even as he did, two more Oomglas marched up from either direction, east and west. All of the monsters carried tree trunks for clubs, each of which were at least fifteen handspans long and half again as round. The prince knew that even he, mighty warrior though he was, was no match for eleven Oomglas with clubs and so allowed himself to be captured by the dumb brutes without so much as a struggle, which greatly disappointed the wicked giants.

"The Oomglas took Prince Komifi to the city of Morughag by the dark Admaced Sea, which lies in the midst of the Winter Mountains. It was a boring three day trip, for the giants rarely stopped. Prince Komifi knew a little of the Oomglas' speech and, after a while, he came to realize that they were taking him to Morughag for a celebration, but for what festival he did not know.

"Now, Morughag is a cold city of stone and ice and its buildings are all of an extremely grotesque nature, but I suppose that is how those monsters prefer it. They gave him a decent room on the top floor of their chieftain's house. It was a child's room and not quite as big as an adult Oomgla room. Still, it seemed like a large hall to him. It had a warm fireplace with plenty of wood and more food then he had ever seen in his life. There was as much poultry and pork and lamb and beef as his heart could have ever desired. And to wash it down was a strong, deep brown mead which made him giddy after but a small cup. He had to eat with crude toy utensils but they were plenty big for him. And the bath, filled with water hot enough to boil tea, was so big he nearly drowned.

"The next day, the Oomglas let Prince Komifi wander about the chieftain's house, although a young lad of twelve followed him everywhere so that he might not escape. It wasn't long before Prince Komifi, clever as he was, discovered that not only was the feast still a week away but the wicked giants were planning to sacrifice him to Mangan, the evil Lord of Meth! In fact, they seemed quite delighted at having found a sacrificial victim so quickly and so easily, especially one so young, healthy and spry.

"This infuriated Prince Komifi, as you can well imagine, for he realized that the Oomglas must be sacrificing a Brimuli, their most hated enemy, every year to Mangan. The valiant Prince Komifi decided then and there to not only escape but to not leave until every Oomgla living in Morughag had been slain.

"Now, when the celebration day arrived, Prince Komifi had fully developed his brilliant plan. Its success hinged upon the relationship he had developed with Guh, the son of Ler, Morughag's chief priest. Guh was one of those rare Oomglas who is handsome, well-built and somewhat intelligent instead of the typical ugly, disfigured, and stupid ones. He had learned some of the Brimulung language and visited often during the week to converse with Prince Komifi. The prince spent much time convincing Guh that he was a herald of Lord Mangan and had come disguised in Brimuli form to tell the Oomglas that they had committed a very grave sin and that there could be no clemency granted.

"'Do you mean we are doomed to die?' Guh had asked.

"'That is exactly what I mean.'

"'But what proof have you that you really are from Meth, the home of Mangan and his halls of the dead?'

"Prince Komifi removed a leather wallet from his belt and told the young giant that in this wallet, which Mangan had personally given him, was a magical black powder. No matter how many spells anyone placed on the powder, it would still explode if placed in the celebration's sacrificial fire. This, Prince Komifi explained in much more glorious words than I possess, was because of a spell Mangan had placed upon the powder so that it might be a sign for the people to believe. Guh promised Prince Komifi that he would speak with the town's elders.

"Now, Guh's speech apparently had great effect for the very next day, and the remaining days after, many of the Oomglas' leaders came to ask Prince Komifi questions, which Guh translated for him. Finally it was decided that this powder should be thrown into the celebration's sacrificial fire before anything else would be done.

"Yet that was not all they decided. Ler, the high priest and father of Guh, beseeched Prince Komifi to pray to Mangan and see if there might not be some change in the demon lord's mind. Prince Komifi told them to come back the next day while he prayed to Mangan.

"Now, during the night the prince devised a very clever plan. And so when the elders returned the following day, Prince Komifi told them that Mangan had spoken with him and that the lord of Meth would reveal his will on the celebration day. The Oomglas, who are very stupid indeed, thanked the prince profusely. Prince Komifi then told them that Mangan had also mentioned that from this day forward, if he indeed accepted their plea, he would allow them to sacrifice the biggest bull they possessed amongst their livestock rather than a Brimuli. Prince Komifi eloquently told them that this should be their practice henceforth, as a reminder of their sin. This too they eagerly praised Mangan for, saying they really didn't want to sacrifice a messenger of the gods or even their enemies, whom they felt deserved to die in battle.

"Finally, the time came for the powder to be placed in the sacrificial fire. Prince Komifi told the Oomglas that Mangan would reveal his will at this time. He explained to Guh and Mok, the chieftain's son, that they had been chosen to toss the powder into the fire. If the powder exploded so that the two would be killed, then Mangan had decided that the village would still be destroyed. If this was the case, Prince Komifi said, then they would be wise to kill themselves swiftly so that Mangan would allow all of them to enter Meth rather than wait for his wrath to descend upon them. The Oomglas, who now believed Prince Komifi utterly, quickly followed his instructions. They brought out three mighty vats of poison while sentries with clubs were placed all around so that none might escape.

"Guh and Mok bravely bore the wallet, though it was no more than a thimble to them, and threw it into the fire. The powder exploded violently and there was much smoke everywhere. Terror filled the Oomglas but from out of the smoke strode Guh and Mok. Their faces were blackened and their hair singed yet they were alive. The Oomglas whooped and hollered with joy, praising Mangan.

"Amidst the chaos, Prince Komifi tried to slip out unnoticed, but the sentries he'd arranged to have posted around the celebration's perimeter prevented this. Then Tul, the Oomglas' chieftain, offered the prince as much gold and gems as he might carry if would but stay with them for another week. To this Prince Komifi readily agreed.

"Finally, after the week was over, Prince Komifi returned to our beloved Alusia, dragging behind him a cart loaded with riches. When he arrived at his father's palace, all the Brimulung greatly extoled him with lavish praises. Eventually he became a mighty leader and also the father of our grandfather. To this day, meanwhile, the ugly Oomglas of Morughag no longer sacrifice Brimulung to Mangan, still claiming that they were visited by his herald. And that, my friends, is how the story ends." Brabin rose to his knees and bowed grandly, dangerously rocking the canoe, while his brother cheered ecstatically and clapped his hands wildly. The others applauded politely.

"A clever story, Brabin," said Earec.

"It's one of my people's favorites."

At that moment, Keir exclaimed, "Hey, look! Is that Magalia?" The others glanced where he excitedly jabbed his finger. There the tips of needle-thin crystal towers rose above the trees, glittering in the afternoon sun.

"Yes, it is!" cried Earec. Then, as they rounded a final bend in the river, the forest suddenly ended and the company gained a clear view of the largest Eleshen city of the north and capital of a powerful empire of the same name. Broad fields of grain ripened alongside the Zon as they approached, an occasional white stucco villa nestled amongst the stalks.

A few miles beyond the fields, Magalia's towers sparkled triumphantly in the hot summer air, their lofty spires rising upwards of one hundred manheights while colorful banners snapped in the high air currents. Soon the salty smell of the Bel Sea filled Keir's head as sounds of the inland sea's greatest port crowded his ears.

The metropolis was built on both sides of the Zon River's mouth, fragile towers of dizzying design erupting in every direction. A large island, called the Emperor's Isle, sat in the middle of the mouth; on it the twelve fabulous towers of the emperor's palace soared higher than all others, their spires built of crystal and estelgar with white marble foundations. Keir gasped in astonishment at not only their delicate beauty but also at their incredible height and slenderness that defied logic. Narrow arched bridges connected the towers at various levels and upon them he could see tiny figures moving. Keir's head soon hurt from staring at the alieness of the structures and he returned his attention to the river. The twins as well complained about the unnatural shape of the towers.

It wasn't long before the company paddled their canoes into the crowded dual harbor. Thousands of boats jammed the bay, their masts an army of spars stretching across the water, mimicing the towers on shore, while gulls soared overhead. Along the shores, countless other craft were moored to seemingly endless lines of long, grease-stained wooden piers while white stucco buildings with red tiled roofs fought for every grain of available beach.

Thank goodness for something to look at that won't drive me mad, thought Keir. At least some of these buildings look solid enough.

"Earec," Bautista ordered, "Lead us to the Emperor's Isle."

The Eleshi snorted. "We can't do that, wizard. No one goes there without a permit. We'll hafta stop at the Traders' Guild offices to apply."

"Very well. Let us do it quickly."

Earec led them into the right channel and soon they were guiding their canoes to a long wharf, tossing ropes around piers to secure their boats. As they climbed out and stretched, a tall, muscular Eleshi dressed similarly to Earec strode down the dock towards them, a big smile on his face.

"Earec Resgau!" he shouted.

"Baucis Amari!" Earec clasped the big Eleshi's hand, introducing him as an old friend to the others, then told him what had happened to Rulac and Jiam. Baucis bowed his head sadly, hugging Earec as the trader finished his tale.

Pulling away, Baucis asked, "I take it you'll vouch for your companions?"

"I will." Earec turned to the company. "Baucis is a dockwatcher for the Traders' Guild. He'll take responsibility for anything we leave in our boats."

Baucis nodded. "Anything left at a Traders' Guild dock is safer than in the emperor's palace. But Earec, tell me, what brings you here with such, uhm, assorted company?"

Bautista laid a hand on Amari's shoulder. "That, my friend, is something we cannot answer, at least not at this time. But tell me, can you get us a pass to the Emperor's Isle?"

Baucis frowned, looking puzzled. Turning to Earec he asked, "Who are these people you're keeping company with now, Resgau?"

"What do you or I know about the reasoning of a wizard of the Grand Order?"

Facing Bautista again, Baucis said, "It'll take me at least a day to get a permit for all six of you."

The wizard shook his head. "I wish one within a single turn. I guess that means I will have to arrange for one myself."

Baucis shrugged his shoulders and led them to a small wooden office at the end of the pier. There Earec signed some papers and each member of the company was given a small copper coin imprinted with the bear symbol of the Traders' Guild for identification.

Soon Earec was leading them down broad brick-paved avenues towards the Traders' Guild offices. Tall, slender white trees, which Keir had never seen before, lined the streets and, even though it was the middle of summer, they still blossomed as if it was yet spring. Earec told him they were trailions and that their pale wood was highly prized among the Eleshen for its strength and durability. Everywhere Keir looked there were gardens and parks full of trailion trees, as well as colorful flowers of intense brightness and shrubs sculpted into various alien shapes. Each shrub seemed vaguely recognizable, but thin and stretched out, as if they had been grabbed and pulled from both ends and then left that way.

Keir stared at Earec's back as the Eleshi led them through the city. He and the other Eleshen I've met seem so human-like. Why does so much look so weird here? Without an answer, the youth turned his attention back to the city around him.

Along the crowded red brick streets rose magnificent white villas and apartments. Towers rose above each villa while their pillared fronts filled with shops. Glancing into several, Keir noticed a wide variety of products ranging from costly rugs of fabled Neitos to wondrous magic items of mystical Kaledon to gleaming swords of distant Ytreka.

As they walked past the shops along the raised cement sidewalks, Keir stared at the thousands of beings, including several races he'd heard of but never before seen. Inside one jewelry shop a pair of Nifm, wiry men shorter than Brimulung with hawk-like faces, yellowish skin, and dark hair, haggled loudly over the price of a fancy ring with the Eleshi owner.

Across the street, Keir spotted a trio of Torgs loitering outside a fish shop. Of medium height, their scaly skin was black like coal, and the only hair he could see was their wispy mustaches and stubby goatees. Red eyes glowered as they scanned passersby.

Then the company passed a single Akata. Keir stared in surprise at the tall creature, its head more than a handspan above his and its body covered with short brown hair. Short but sharp tusks protruded from below its snout nose while beady pink eyes glared menacingly. Most people jumped out of the giant's way as it swaggered down the middle of the sidewalk and those who didn't were shoved rudely to the ground.

Keir saw many other races such as the reptilian Aboxnis, a green-hued Tjardshi, and even the legendary Helexi birdmen. Eventually Earec led the group into a large, two-storied villa the Eleshi told them was the Traders' Guild offices. They rested in an open-aired atrium while Earec filed his report and Bautista applied for a permit to the Emperor's Isle.

After a while they both returned and Bautista told them it would be another hour before the permit would be ready. Black Muraga suggested they walk about the city some more. The others readily agreed and Earec led the company to a nearby park. Keir sniffed the bright rainbow of flowers with delight while they slowly strode along white pebble paths beneath the slender trailion trees. The youth turned to Earec, arms outspread.

"How is it that all of this still blooms in the height of summer?"

"It has always been so in Magalia, though none know why. The wizards say it is the White or Green Magics, the priests say it is a gift of the gods, while the teachers say it is the result of Jerrim Father-Eleshi's final blessing."

Before anyone could respond, leaves rustled nearby.

"Look out!" shouted Black Muraga. Keir twisted as a bowstring snapped. Suddenly, hot pain seared his shoulder and his vision blurred. Grabbing his shoulder, it felt warm and moist. He looked at his hand. It was red.

He heard another cry followed by a loud thump, like a body falling to the ground. Then his vision blurred. Hands lifted him and angry voices shouted but he couldn't understand what was being said nor could he recognize faces. Now he was being carried roughly and cried out as the pain in his shoulder began to spread, like knife blades reaching for his heart. Suddenly his vision seemed to clear. His companions were nowhere to be seen. Instead, he was surrounded by priests of The Voryaki! Then his sight faded to blackness and he remembered nothing more.