Myrkron (Volume Two of The Chronicles of the Myrkron) (29 page)

“How can you be so sure?”

“What man could resist a woman such as you, other than myself, of course?”  Mortow replied smiling broadly at Mieka.

Mieka smiled back at him
.  It was good to see the old Mortow again.  He always knew what to say to make her feel better.  He had been so serious and absorbed in his plans for so long that she was not certain he would ever smile that way again.

Mortow’s smile faded and he turned his face fully toward Mieka.
  “I have a task for you,” Mortow said seriously.

“What do you require of me?”

“Rydon and the rest of the Elven High Council are back in the room where you brought Michael.  I need you to go there and take Rydon to the elvish encampment outside Kantwell.  Do not allow yourself to be taken.  Drop him a distance from the camp and leave him.  After that, check on Mael and our guest back in Gratton.  Remain there until I send for you.”

“As you wish,” Mieka said flashing a smile at him.  She spoke the words of transport and
both she and her horse vanished.

Maklin had been listening in on the exchange and urged his horse into a trot until he came abreast of Mortow.
  “Master?”

“What is it?”  Mortow asked.

“Forgive me, but how can you trust Mieka if she has feelings for Michael?”

Mortow’s chuckle
was low and malicious.  “I do not trust her.  Her feelings for Michael can be used to my benefit.  Since they both have these feelings for each other, I will be able to use Mieka as leverage against Michael.  Mael has orders to watch her and deal with the situation if need be,” Mortow explained.

“And you really think he will allow her a second chance?”

“I saw his face when I walked into that room.  He is a man in love, and men so afflicted do stupid and sometimes fatal things.”  Mortow lowered his voice, “You would do well to remember that,” Mortow told him with a knowing look then urged his horse ahead of Maklin.

Maklin allowed his horse to slow until Megan was once again beside him.  He thought on what Mortow said as he glanced over at
her.  The sneer she shot him sent a mental shock through his mind.  She no longer appeared as a beautiful woman to him.  Her blue eyes, eyes which he had previously found so alluring, were cold and flat.  Maklin frowned at her and turned to face forward once again.

Megan was disturbed by Maklin’s lack of response.  Whatever Mortow said to him must have distracted him greatly.  Maybe it was Mieka’
s sudden appearance that had him preoccupied.  Mieka had a way of getting under her skin.  The way she was so familiar with Mortow, made Megan so angry she wanted to burn Mieka to ash.

Megan did not really consider Mieka competi
tion when it came to men. How could she be?  Megan was young and beautiful.  Mieka was old, though Megan knew men tended to stare at Mieka wherever she went.  To think that Michael could be in love with a woman almost twice his age confounded Megan.  How she could have tolerated such a simpleton for so long amazed her, but she was glad that assignment was over.  It nearly made her wretch, the role she had been forced to play as his wife.  She could not count the number of nights she stood over his sleeping form contemplating how easy it would be just to kill him and be done with it.  If Mortow had allowed her to do just that, then they would not now have him as an enemy.  It galled her still to think that Michael had such power, power for which he did not even have to work.

She smiled to herself.  Megan could not wait to see the look on Michael’s face when they met again
.  The insipid, confused expression he would get on his face when he realized she was still alive.  Megan nearly laughed out loud when she thought of the look of hurt when he saw her standing side by side with Mortow.  It would serve him right.  She had endured three years of his sickening fawning.  She thought back to the look on his face when she had been shot, or when he thought she had been shot.  That shocked look was partial payment for having to put up with him for all those years.  She would collect the balance soon.

A little illusion goes a long way.  She had needed to adjust the illusion a bit when Michael actually cast the spell that would have disintegrated her illusionary attacker.
Then it had just been a matter of placing the illusion of her image on a corpse in the morgue.  Fooling the paramedics was easy as well.  With her assignment on earth concluded, Megan had returned immediately to Thelona.

Now that Megan was back in her own world, she did not have to play at being a nice, ditsy nobody; she could be herself again.  She pulled some of her hair out in front of her.  She hated the brown color she had worn during that time
, but she did not want Michael to miss seeing her because of her blonde hair.  She concentrated lightly on it and saw it change to the chestnut color that Michael knew so well.  With a smile she dropped her hair and turned her thoughts to the coming events.

Chapter Twenty-S
even

Michael, Reek and Branik stood in a clearing surrounded by giant oak trees.  Reek and Branik scanned the area for signs of danger
, but Michael just stared up and around at the trees.  He had never seen trees of this size.  Granted, he had never seen the great redwoods in person; but he doubted even they would match the sheer size, let alone the majesty, of these oaks.  A breeze blew across Michael's face bringing him the smells of the forest.

“Michael, are we where I think we are?”  Asked Reek in a quiet voice.

“I hope we are at the site of the Oakkrin,” Michael replied.

All three of them saw the brush rustle and two of the biggest wolves any of them had ever seen walked into the clearing.  Both wolves rounded one of the giant tre
es and sat in front of it as if guarding it from harm.

Michael heard a faint whisper from behind him and turned to see both Reek and Branik down on one knee with their heads bowed.  Not knowing the protocol, Michael also went to one knee.  He placed his right hand flat on the ground before him
.

“I beg the spirit of this land to forgive our intrusion
, but I need to speak with the Oakkrin,” Michael said still looking at the wolves.  He was unsure of why he said what he did. Yet, it had seemed proper; and anything that had guardians the size of those wolves was something he did not want to anger.

“Rise, Myrkron, there is no call to kneel before us.  Rise Avari.  You are all welcome here,” the
Oakkrin said.

The voice
spoke as a wind through the leaves again brushed across Michael’s face.  He rose to his feet at the same time Reek and Branik did.  As he was about to speak, both wolves stood up and walked forward.  They stopped a few feet from Michael and went to their bellies before him, massive noses on their outstretched paws.

Michael looked at them quizzically.

“They bow before the Myrkron,” the Oakkrin explained.

Michael had always loved animals
and smiled down at the two, seeing them look at him with huge luminous eyes.  “Please get up.  Two magnificent animals such as you should bow to no one,” Michael told them sincerely.

Michael could see their ears pivot back toward the trees and they rose to a sitting position in front of him
and began to pant.  It looked to him as if they were smiling back at him.

“What are their names?”  Michael asked looking up at the tress.

“Roam and Jewl; they are Grove Wolves, and protect us from unwanted intrusion.”

Michael’s smile faded as he recalled why he had come here.
  “I need to ask you some questions, if I may.”

“We will answer what we can but first, the two Avari must depart,” the
Oakkrin said in their rustling voice.

Branik stepped forward.
  “We may not leave his side.  We are under the blood pact.”

“Your charge is safe here, Avari, if he be safe anywhere.  Roam and Jewl will stand in your stead
, but what we have to discuss is for the ears of the Myrkron alone.  To the south you will find a path.  Take it to the house at its end.  The Myrkron will join you when we are concluded.”

Branik eyed the big wolves and addressed the larger one, the male.
  “Protect him as you would the Oakkrin,” Branik commanded.

Roam let out a low rumbling bark, his luminous eyes staring down at Branik.

Michael laughed at the exchange between the two guardians.  “I will be perfectly safe here, Branik.  Please do as the Oakkrin request.”

Without further questions, Branik and Reek turned south and
, locating the path, stepped onto it and departed the grove.

“Before you begin, we must ask you how many of the golden doors you can see,” the
Oakkrin inquired.

“Three,” Michael replied.

“How many have you opened?”

“Two.”

“And have you discovered the name of the third?”

“To be honest, I haven’t even begun to try.  There just hasn’t been time.”

“We suggest you make time.  The unlocking of that third door will answer many of your questions.”

“Is there anything you can tell me that will help me discover its name?”  Michael asked.

“All we know is that the third door is about the magic itself, Myrkron, but the secret of its name has never been revealed to us.”

“Please call me Michael.  Myrkron is a title
; Michael is my name,” Michael requested, his shoulders drooping slightly at hearing they knew nothing helpful about the third door's name.

“As you wish, Michael
.”

“I assume
, since you sent Branik and Reek away, you know that the doors of the Myrkron are to remain secret,” Michael began.

“Aye, some information has been entrusted to us about them and that information is only to be shared with the Myrkron,” the
Oakkrin replied.

“I know the first allows me to heal and the second has something to do with druidic abilities.  When the second door opened, I was able to scry without the use of a basin or mirror, but I don’t see how that has anything to do with nature,” Michael said, beginning to pace back and forth.

“As far as we know, it has nothing to do with druidic abilities.  Scrying is a magical operation.”

“What can you tell me about the powers the druids command?”

“The druids are able to manipulate the natural world around them.  They can shape the flora to heal it or help it grow.  They are the caretakers of the land.”

“That does not sound as if it will be helpful to me right now,” Michael replied.

“What is it that you seek?”

“A way to defeat the Garoliths.  I nearly lost Branik to one of them.  I have been told that only a wizard of the ninth key can affect them
, but no one seems to know how.  I came here in hopes that you could tell me.”

“It is true that only a ninth key may defeat them.  The magic of lesser magi has no effect on them
.  A ninth key may command the very soul.  That is the weakness of the Garoliths.  They were created ages ago by some magi that believed magic was too powerful and should be eradicated completely.  Twenty of their number volunteered to be transformed into instruments that were proof against magic.  The spell cast turned them into undead beings of incredible power.  They took their shape from the minds of some of the most twisted wizards that have ever lived.  A shape meant to instill fear in any who view them.  Fear fed them as they slew their very creators and it is fear they now feed on,” the Oakkrin explained.

“How do I command their souls?  There are no ninth keys around to teach me,” Michael asked
hesitantly.

“There is one who can teach you.  He dwells down the path
on which the Avari departed.”

“If there is a ninth key still in existence why has he not come forward to aid us?”  Michael demanded.

“He has been aiding you, and you know him well.”

“Micah?  But his magic is limited
, and he would have told me how to defeat them if he knew.”

“Micah’s magic may be limited
, but his knowledge of it is not.  If he has not imparted that knowledge to you, then he either has a reason or does not know that they may be affected in this way.  Perhaps you should speak with him,” the Oakkrin suggested.

“Yes, I guess I should.  Would you please excuse me?”  Michael said as he turned to go.

“One more thing, Michael.”

Michael turned
around.  He suddenly realized the move was unnecessary as the trees were all around him.  “Yes?”

“Before you depart from our forest, bring the Avari back to us
,” the Oakkrin requested.

“As you wish.”
  Michael turned and took off down the trail at a run.

He noticed that it was a cobbled path and
, as he left the grove, the sounds of the forest ceased.  There were no birds singing or insects chirping; the very air stilled and the trees closed in overhead so closely that all sunlight was cut off.  He had to stop because it had become so black he could not even see his hand in front of his face.

Michael raised his right fist into the air.
  “
Lumen,
” he spoke aloud.  His fist began to glow brightly with a brilliant white light.  It lit the path ahead of him.  He began to run again and the light revealed a stone cottage with a porch and three steps leading up to it.  On the porch, Michael could see Reek, Branik and Micah standing, looking his way.  He lowered his hand and slowed to a walk when he neared the steps.

“Hello, Michael.  Welcome to my home.  I want to thank you for saving Branik’s life today.  You will never know how much that act means to me,” Micah said bowing to Michael as he stopped at the top of the steps.

“My Lord, I must confess. I did it out of selfish reasons.  I did not want to lose my friend,” Michael replied formally, allowing his light to fade away as he saw a light globe sitting on a small table.

Micah looked at him grimly and motioned for Michael to follow him.
  “Branik, Reek, would you be so kind as to wait out here please?  I must speak with Michael in private for a moment,” Micah inquired of the two Avari.

Branik and Reek both bowed to Micah and took up posts on either side of the entrance.

Micah turned and walked through the door, held it until Michael passed through, and then closed it softly.  He walked to his study and sat behind the big desk gesturing for Michael to sit in the chair in front of him.  “Ok, Michael, what is going on?”

Michael sighed heavily and leaned forward in the chair resting his elbows on his knees and bowing his head.
  “What isn’t going on would be easier to answer.  We nearly lost Branik to a Garolith.  The Weres attacked from the sea just west of Kantwell, and they brought that monster along with them.  Nothing Merric or I did had any effect on it. In fact, it was my spell that cost Branik his life,” Michael explained still staring at the floor.

“I was under the impression that your magic would work against them.  Everything Merric read told him a ninth key was the only one that could harm them.”

“I was under the same assumption as you.  That's why I came to see the Oakkrin,” Michael explained.

“I have been researching some of my oldest books
, but have found nothing that contradicts what we already know.  A ninth key should be able to destroy them,” Micah said frowning.

“The
Oakkrin said the same, but it seems it is only the ninth key magic and not just a ninth key wizard that is required.  There are none at Kantwell that can teach me about the ninth key,” Michael said finally looking up at Micah.  “The Oakkrin suggested I talk to you.  They said even though your magic was limited, your knowledge was not.  I have to be able to command the souls of the Garoliths in order to defeat them,” Michael told him.

Micah visibly shivered and turned his eyes away from Michael.
  “The first time I used magic from the ninth key was over ten thousand years ago.  It was also the last,” Micah said in a low voice.

Michael could hear the sorrow in Micah’s voice and he sat up straight.
  “That was the spell that turned you, wasn’t it?”

“Aye.”

“Will it turn me if I use it?”  Michael asked hesitantly.

Micah’s eyes settled on Michael’s at hearing the fear in his voice.  He smiled faintly.
  “If you used the exact spell I cast, yes, it would; but that is not the spell you will need.  The spell I cast that night was designed to affect me and the warriors that volunteered.  It had a specific purpose; to render us invulnerable to, and to make us physically more powerful than, our enemies,” Micah explained.

“Perhaps that is what I need then,” Michael replied his mouth setting in a hard line.

“No.  Our enemies were mortal, just warriors from another tribe.  That is not the answer.”

Micah rose and went to the bookcase behind him.  He scanned the titles for a few seconds and located the volume he sought.  He pulled it from the shelf and handed it to Michael.

Michael took the book and looked at the cover.  It was obviously very old, but well cared for.  The brown leather cover was cracked and bore only one symbol, the Roman numeral IX.

“Is this what I think it is?”  Michael asked excitedly.

“Well I am not sure.  If you think it is a journal of my thoughts and experiments involving the ninth key, then yes, it is what you think it is,” Micah answered, reseating himself behind the desk.

Michael moved to the edge of his seat as he ran his hand over the cover.

“Michael,” Micah waited until Michael tore his eyes from the book to look up at him.  “Some of what you will read in that book will be from a very dark time in my life.  And please bear in mind that I was very young when I wrote a portion of it.  Younger than you are now,” Micah began.

“This book is over ten thousand years old
?”  Michael asked once again looking at its cover, this time in awe.