Mage Prime (Book 2) (17 page)

Minutes later they were on the move, Areel in the lead and Magnor keeping a few paces to the rear. Passing quickly and quietly through the dark-sight’s grey haze in a deep purple tunnel, each seemed to the other to be a dream figure in violet monochrome. Although intent on keeping the swiftly moving wraith-like figure of Areel in plain sight, Karryl also noticed the ceiling of the tunnel getting gradually higher the further along they went. As they passed the wide opening of a side passage, a familiar odour began to assail Karryl’s nostrils. A vivid memory flashed into his mind. ‘grelfon’ hammered its way across his brain. The stench was even more nauseating than he remembered, and it was only strength of will-power that prevented him from retching.

Areel’s voice slid swiftly and smoothly into his mind.
“Breathe through your mouth. Not much further now.”

After another fifteen minutes of enduring stomach-roiling stench and the miasma of eye-stinging pungent vapours, Areel suddenly turned aside and led them down a narrow side tunnel. A few moments later Karryl detected a cool breeze brushing softly against his sweating cheeks. The floor of the tunnel began to incline gradually upwards, bringing it ever closer to the rough-hewn ceiling. A dozen yards further found them having to bend almost double in order to make any progress, and they were reduced to crawling on hands and knees.

Karryl stopped, hissing through his teeth in frustration as he looked from side, his hands pressed against the wall of rock barring their way. “It’s a dead end!”

Kneeling beside him, Areel murmured a short phrase. Karryl’s skin prickled as a concealing glamour of hard-packed earth and stone chippings melted away to reveal a narrow irregular opening at the base of the wall. Areel eased himself through, lying on his stomach as he reached out to help Karryl wriggle through beside him.

A reproachful grimace twisted Magnor’s mouth as he squinted at them through the hole. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I just happen to be a tad larger than either of you. If I try and get through there, I’m going to get stuck.”

Karryl chuckled. “No you won’t. Come on, we’ll pull you through.”

He reached through and grasped Magnor’s outstretched hand, but it took the combined efforts of him and Areel to help him, puffing and mildly protesting, to squeeze his bulky frame through the opening and into the space beyond.

Their point of exit was at floor level of a large, high-ceilinged empty room, windowless and almost totally devoid of any furniture. The only indications that the place had ever been inhabited were a large brightly patterned rug covering most of the floor, and a heavy wooden chest in one corner.

Areel brushed himself down with his hand then gestured towards the chest. “We must move this to conceal the opening.”

The chest placed to his satisfaction, Areel moved to the centre of the room and with his legs folded under him, sank fluidly down onto the rug. He indicated that Karryl and Magnor should do the same. “Now we can rest for a short while. We are in no danger here.”

Karryl looked quickly about him. “Where are we exactly?”

“Exactly? We are in an empty house in the Hidden City of Vedra, home of the Grelfi, the soulless beings who breed, keep and train the grelfons.”

Karryl was aghast. “Why the blazes have you brought us here? This is the last place I want to be!”

A wry smile played across Areel’s mouth. “If you had not come here now, it is quite possible that, despite your powers, this would be the last place you would ever be.”

Karryl thought about that for a long moment. His jaw dropped as the import of what Areel had just said hit home.

Hands resting on splayed knees, their companion briefly bowed his head as if satisfied. “It was my original intention to explain some things to you before we made our way into the city. Should you decide you have no need of my help, this will have been a wasted journey.” Karryl glared at him, but seemingly unperturbed Areel continued. “Friend Magnor has told me that you are aware of many details of the events which occurred almost a thousand years past.”

Karryl was unable to suppress a fleeting smile as he recalled the meeting with King Vailin and Agmar prior to the uproarious assembly of Ministers, and Lady Evalin’s incontrovertible proof of the real existence of magic. He nodded at Areel. “Yes. Go on.”

The black-clad desert dweller sighed. “My part in this is to help towards the redress of a great wrong that was done, and to prevent an even greater one.”

Eyes wide with realisation, Karryl turned to look at Magnor. “Is Areel the other…?”

Magnor nodded. “Let him tell you himself, if he will.”

As if to emphasise his point, Areel leaned forward, the palms of his hands pressed together. “It is to my constant shame that I am a descendant of that race which persecuted the Grrybhñnös and drove them from their home-world. However, in my defence, I am also a descendant of the clan who aided their escape to the world they now inhabit.”

Karryl frowned at Magnor. The elder shook his head slightly and put a finger to his lips.

Hands clasped, Areel looked intently at Karryl. “The inhabitants of the City of Vedra are also descendants of that race, led by an evil priesthood who covet the power of their ancestors. To obtain that power they must gain possession of four artefacts. They have only one of them. The second lies deep beneath the city of Vellethen, and you, Master Karryl, are in possession of the third. There is little time left before the astral conjunction. It is imperative to them that they have all four artefacts in their possession when that occurs.”

The three sat in contemplative silence for a long moment then Karryl cocked his head to one side. “The medallion and the book must be two of them. I’ve got the book, the medallion’s been stolen, so what and where are the other two?”

Areel gave a mirthless grin. “Even the highest priesthood who have access to the innermost secrets of the Grelfi, do not know their location. The fourth artefact lies somewhere beneath this vast desert, and the other is believed, not without good reason, to be beneath Vellethen. As to what these artefacts are and their potential and purpose, I cannot tell you.”

Karryl gave a thoughtful frown as he used the heel of his hand to rub at the emerging stubble on his chin. “What will happen if the Grelfi manage to lay hands on all four artefacts?”

Magnor groaned. “That doesn’t bear thinking about. From what Areel has told me, along with other information I’ve been able to gather, it is possible that your world and mine will be reduced to waste-lands, overrun with grelfons, Grelfi and hordes of Vedric-using priests.”

Karryl stared at his burly friend. Although horrified by the possibilities which Magnor had outlined, something else he said had grabbed his attention. “You said ‘your world and mine’. You mean that when you took me to meet with your elders, we were on a world other than this one?”

Magnor leaned back on his hands. “I thought you’d already realised that. Our species advanced greatly with the aid of the Old Ones in the past. Without their teaching we would probably have remained world-bound, and history may have been completely different. Areel and I go back a long way, but that is a different story.”

Areel nodded his agreement. “Indeed. Now, if you are willing Master Karryl, we must concentrate on preparing you, not only to meet your adversary, but also to recover the medallion.”

Karryl managed to look less than enthusiastic. “That’s all very well. I’m fairly certain now, who my so-called adversary might be. As for the medallion, it would help if I knew where to start looking.”

At that moment Karryl’s dark-sight began to fail, but not before he saw Areel cock his head to one side. Their black-clad companion’s basalt eyes glinted. “But I know exactly where it is. It hangs on a chain around the neck of the one you are destined to meet.”

Karryl sat unspeaking, letting the darkness gather round him. The violet hues of dark-sight had given him a niggling headache. He closed his eyes for a few moments taking some comfort from the total lack of light. Only when a red haze insinuated itself through his eyelids, did it register that Areel had turned on the torch.

Slowly Karryl lifted his drooping head and opened his eyes. “And that one is Ghian. I know he had the medallion, because Symon and I saw him in the scrying bowl. Obviously he got someone to steal it for him, but who was he really getting it for?”

His two companions exchanged a glance. It was Areel who answered. “For himself. In the dread temple of Zo’ad, here in Vedra, he is addressed as ‘Lord Ghian’. Of all those who have been marked and tested over the years, he is the one finally chosen. This very day he has returned to the city to ascend his throne as Grelfine Lord. It is he that you must defeat before the astral conjunction. If he defeats you, there will be no second chance.”

His expression a volatile mix of disbelief, fury and disgust, Karryl stretched out a hand towards Areel. “Excuse me, but how in the name of the gods did the elder brother of my best friend, who teased me unmercifully when I was at school, suddenly acquire the title of ‘Lord Ghian’? He’s no more a blasted Lord than I am!”

Areel smiled inwardly at this sudden outburst. Combined with the loud snort and rumble of agreement from Magnor, it was the reaction he had been hoping for.

Palms placed together in front of his chest, he allowed the smile briefly to reach his mouth. “There is not much time, but I will explain as much as I am able. The history is unclear. It would seem that, due to an illicit union in the distant past between a Jadhra and an Altarian, the blood of the Jadhrahin flows in Ghian’s veins.

“Not warrior blood, but that of a select priesthood who maintain the Temple of Zo’ad. They practice a perverted religion worshipping not only Zo’ad, but also the so-called ‘gods’ who brought them to this world and originally created the evil grelfons. Also, he has inherited some innate ability to at least read, if not fully understand our ancient script. As the Vedran religion teaches that one will come who would lead them back to their own world, the arrival of Ghian so close to the astral conjunction has elevated him to near god-like status.”

Karryl leaned forward to look intently into Areel’s dark face, now a deep ashen grey in the blue light of the torch. “From what I know of Ghian he’s nothing but a bully. I could probably take him single-handed.”

Magnor leaned across and dropped his large hand onto Karryl’s shoulder. “I know exactly how you feel, but I think Areel will tell you that’s not a good idea.” He looked across at their dark-clad companion for confirmation.

Areel gave a slow nod. “Ghian is already far more dangerous than you can possibly realise. In recent years the high priests of the Temple have given him intensive training in the dark arts of the Vedric. He is also an accomplished grelfon handler. But he will no doubt have his weaknesses, which you may be able to discover and exploit. However, there is much for you to learn before your pre-destined meeting takes place. That is why I have brought you here, to learn the layout of the city, and to get a taste of its atmosphere. Such knowledge may well prove vital.”

Barely impressed by the facts about Ghian, Karryl stared in disbelief at Areel. “Couldn’t you have just given me a map? I could have memorised that without all this... this... inconvenience.”

Areel regarded him for a long moment as if tolerating an impatient child. “No maps exist. If there were any, they would not show the places we will go to, nor the route we will take. You must commit all to memory. There is no doubt that more lives than your own will come to depend on it. Now, if you are rested we will continue.”

Karryl opened his mouth to speak, but Areel raised a silencing hand before rising to his feet in one seemingly effortless movement. He led them to a simple wooden door which he opened and walked through, beckoning them to follow. They found themselves in a much smaller room. The wall to their left held a short row of hooks from which hung a number of dark, hooded robes.

Selecting one for himself, Areel then picked out two others, handing them to Karryl and Magnor. “There is one for each of us. While we wear these, little attention will be paid to us. If we are approached, say nothing. Stop, and keep your eyes fixed on the ground. Your height and colouring will avert suspicion Master Karryl. Friend Magnor will need to keep his hood forward and wear one of these.”

He handed Magnor a simple black head-dress trailing a long wide length of soft black fabric. “There is no facial hair worn in Vedra. Lord Ghian is so adorned, therefore he forbids it to others.”

Frowning, Karryl reached out and fingered the soft fabric in Magnor’s hand. “Couldn’t you make yourself, you know, sort of less conspicuous?”

Magnor’s deep chuckle seemed out of place in their sombre surroundings. “Now, why didn’t I think of that? If you’ll both… er… excuse me for a moment?”

Taking the robe and the head-dress, he ambled over to a shadowy corner of the room. With his back towards them, he stood perfectly still. Karryl squinted into the gloom, straining his ears in an effort to detect some part of the process taking place, but to no avail. In no more than a couple of dozen heartbeats, the character who was Magnor had robed himself. He strode out of the corner to stand before them.

Impressed and surprised, Karryl grinned widely. Areel’s response was a slight nod and a wry smile. The person who now stood before them was dark-eyed, with nut-brown skin and a hairless face. His features bore some resemblance to those of Areel, and he could have easily passed as a clan member.