The Call (20 page)

“No. That I didn't know.”

“From time to time elders have delivered infants with these strange gifts of yours into the hands of Shades. We raise them until they are old enough to travel the world and learn your arts.” The woman watched her with a thoughtful look. “But not you. You got a normal youth.”

Katja shrugged.

“To be honest I was never terribly normal myself, so I don't know how true that is.”

“Perhaps. But this is still all new to you. I find it an interesting thought. I mean, we do accept new members now and then, but you are different from most.”

“Do you think I'm better or worse off for being unfamiliar with all this?”

“I cannot answer that, dear. I've only met two of you and do not expect to do so again. I was just curious. But you didn't tell me how you feel about all this.”

Katja was silent as she searched for the right words.

“Exciting.” She shrugged again. “Frightening. Insane... and... and yet not. Somehow this all
fits
. As if I have been waiting for this my whole life.”

Agnes nodded calmly with her chin in her palm.

“As if it's in your nature?” she asked softly.

“Yes.” Katja thought a bit. “Maybe a bird feels this way after it learns how to fly. Still, I feel,” she hesitated, looked at Agnes, looked into the air and felt a bit awkward.

“I can keep a secret,” Agnes said quietly. She looked firmly into Katja's eyes and smiled slightly. “I was raised to keep secrets.”

Katja met her gaze and tried to appraise the sincerity in it. She touched her necklace a bit.

“I-” She hadn't thought about this deeply enough before to have the words ready. “I can't help but... wonder if I-” She sighed. Was she just talking nonsense? “I mean I don't seem to
think
like most people. And I don't know whether I should try to or what. And if I don't, do I have anything in common with normal people?”

Agnes didn't answer right away. She was clearly digesting this and Katja didn't feel quite as awkward.

“I cannot answer that, unfortunately,” the woman then said. “I am not the most knowledgeable about your people. Perhaps you would be free of such thoughts if you'd been raised among us and always known of your role. Or perhaps you will be stronger and healthier in the long run for having grown up in innocence. Have you asked your mentor?”

“No. I don't really want to.”

“I do know for sure that you do vital work, and that without your kind the world would probably have fallen into darkness long ago. I know that you must do what you do, and that you deserve thanks. But since you need to keep a low profile and keep your adventures secret from the public, then... well, those of us who do know of them must be grateful on behalf of the rest.”

The woman looked at her kindly. Katja had no idea what to say. She was relieved when Agnes spared her from needing to by leaving to tend to chores.

Serdra returned shortly after noon.

“News of the killing is all over the city,” she said. “The governor is trying to smooth out the chaos his second-in-command left behind, but is still recovering from the illness. The city has been closed, and every single ship in the harbour is being searched thoroughly and outsiders are being looked for. We will not be able to fetch our belongings from the inn.”

Katja sighed. In spite of everything she had begun to care for the horse. Now she only owned what she'd had with her as they snuck out of the inn.

She could have warned me. Or is this perhaps yet another object lesson for me?

“So what do we do?”

“I spoke to Frank and some others,” Serdra said. “I'm told a certain portion of the defensive wall, close to the harbour, is our best way out. It is usually not well-guarded and beyond it we can quickly reach the safety of the tree line. We just need a rope.”

“We can easily supply you with one,” Agnes said.

“Good. I will examine the spot better when evening approaches, and if all looks well we will leave tonight.”

“And how long will it take us to reach Wave Fell?”

“On foot and off the roads it should take us about two days. So keep resting. This struggle is just beginning.”

--------------------

“This must be avenged,” Tovar said with quiet harshness the evening after the events at the city hall.

“I thought you didn't even like the bloke,” Vajan said. The man had arrived a day early to deliver the news and was still covered in mud and dust after the hurried ride. Tovar wasn't sure whether it was due to hurry or a lack of respect that he hadn't knocked the mud off his boots before entering the house.

“He was my kinsman, Vajan! Whether I liked him or not I must even the score.”

“Well. I suspect your chance will come soon,” the foreigner said.

“Yes.” Tovar took a deep breath to calm himself and walked into his private chamber with Vajan in tow. “The Redcloaks won't sit in the city forever. Spying or the Shades or that damnable sensitivity of theirs or something will lead them either to the Nest or here.”

Vajan closed the door behind them. Tovar stared at his favourite painting in silence while they contemplated the situation.

“Mooncape is probably a likelier destination for them,” Vajan said. “The Nest is hidden after all, and just as warded against sensitivity as this place. But everyone knows where the cape is.”

“True, but we cannot wager everything on that possibility,” Tovar said. “I will send more of my men to the Nest to stand guard. The mercenaries can fill in the gaps here.” He turned around. “Of course, it would be better to eliminate the problem before it knocks on our door.”

Vajan put up that smile of his which wasn't quite insolent enough to call him on.

“And that's why my boys aren't filling in here or in the Nest. You want us to fix things.”

“You have experience better employed for this task than something else,” Tovar said severely. “It is called good management, and not something for you to mock.”

“Mock?” Vajan said in a casual tone and yet with glint in his eyes. “I just find it funny how hard it is for you to admit that I surpass you in some way.”

“Not enough for it to be relevant. Have
you
found a way to restore the Brotherhood?”

Vajan's smile changed for a moment.

“It remains to be seen whether you actually have,” he said.

Tovar gave him a hard stare for a few moments and yet again reminded himself how useful this man was.

“The plan
will
work,” he said coldly. “I will allow nothing else. It will work if we proceed carefully and exterminate these interlopers, and if
you
keep your oaths of speaking to your coven on my behalf.”

“And will you allow nothing else in that matter either?”

The challenge in the foreigner's voice was probably simple insolence as was so much else about the man. Probably. But Tovar had had enough. He couldn't tolerate this.

He took three steps backwards, outside the reach the man had for sudden attacks, judging by the sparring match Tovar had watched a while back.

“Yes, Vajan, I will allow nothing else,” he whispered with anger he hadn't allowed himself to show in a long time. “You will honour your commitments unless you mean to dethrone me. Can your sword cut magic?”

Vajan was silent for a little while and Tovar suspected he was evaluating his resolve. Then the foreigner smiled his most innocent.

“Now now, don't take me so seriously.”

“This is a serious matter, which may have consequences for all for generations to come. I wish you held proper respect for the process, and your status.”

He opened a drawer, took a map out of it and rolled it out on the table.

“We need to either predict their movements or lure them out somehow.” He ran his eyes over the paper. To the best of his knowledge this was the most detailed map of the eastern coast in existence. But while forests and hills and cliffs still stood, there was no way to know of every possible route.

“The latter option would probably be easier.”

“Mm,” Vajan said and examined the map. “Or both.”

“Both?”

Vajan sat in a chair and crossed his legs with a thoughtful expression.

“It may be hard for you to believe, but I actually
have
read up on the old conflicts.” He hesitated. “Did you know my father was a hunter of some note?”

“We are not dealing with bears or deer.”

“No. But he taught me that all creatures controlled by instinct are predictable if one figures them out.” He eyes grew distant for a moment as he relived some memory. “And it may be that Redcloaks are among the most dangerous prey in this world, but it is my understanding that they are predictable as well in their own ways. I think we can steer them in the right direction if we do so carefully. Or at least have a better chance than we would otherwise.”

He leaned forward and examined the map more closely.

“I have an idea. Not too unlike the method used in Fornos.”

“Oh?”

“I and my men will form the assault team, but you and your people must also perform your part.”

“Of course I will do my part,” Tovar said. “I will not overlook a chance to strike at this ancient menace.”

Tovar understood what Vajan meant. He had dreaded this, but the old hatred he had been taught also sparked a certain anticipation.

“You hate the Reds quite a lot for someone who's never met them.”

“We have a DUTY to hate them! Didn't you say you'd done reading?”

“Yes yes, but I don't see the point of anger over events long since past.”

Tovar sighed.

“Vajan, this is not just about the past but also about the present we could have had. You could have wormed your way into a family of kings.” He threw up his hands. “Instead we must hide. But no more. I will set things right or die trying.”

He looked at the map again.

“Let's discuss the details.”

Chapter
14.

Katja kept her eyes closed and listened. The night was still. She heard the sea lick the harbour just to the east, cats fight somewhere in the dark and the footsteps of two guardsmen. They passed rather close to their hiding place, but then slowly faded off to the west.

“It is time,” Serdra whispered. They knew from experience that another team would pass by soon.

Katja turned and looked Frank in the face. He had been adamant about escorting them despite the dangers inherent in night-time wanderings after recent events.

“Good luck,” the migrant said and extended his hand. “Perhaps we will meet again.”

Serdra had told him they probably wouldn't return to the city for a while, but he had responded that this wasn't the first place he'd done his work in and hopefully not the last.

“Thank you. I'll have more bread ready for you next time,” Katja said and smiled a bit as she shook his hand.

He seemed to smile back, and he patted her on the shoulder and bid Serdra goodbye. They wouldn't afford talking after leaving the hidden spot.

A few moments passed as Katja held her breath and Serdra listened. Then the woman gave a signal and they walked briskly across the street and to the wall. Rags tied around their feet dampened the footsteps as they hurried up the unguarded steps and to the parapets.

Serdra took off the rope she'd carried like a sash, hooked the stick on one end in a crenel and let the other one slide down the wall.

Frank checked for traffic and Katja took up position by the rope. They had decided earlier that she would be the first one down.

She looked over her shoulder. She was sad at not getting to know the man a little better, as well as the city she'd so long dreamed of seeing. Everything was happening so quickly. The world rushed by and all she'd known had long since vanished into the distance.

Serdra prodded her.

I better focus
, Katja thought and began the climb down. The rope was rough and abraded her palms considerably, but she could take it easily and had enough strength to reach the ground without accident. The main problem was doing so silently and quickly.

She felt terribly exposed there in the air and sighed with relief when her toes finally touched the earth. She hurried into the tree line and didn't allow herself to relax until Serdra joined her.

Frank pulled the rope up and vanished from sight.

And that was that. Katja's visit to the city was over.

“Let's go,” Serdra said.

They headed south and did so carefully while they could still glimpse the city wall but were soon hurrying.

“Didn't you say that it would take us two days to reach Wave Fell?” Katja asked.

“Yes, if we stay completely off the main roads.”

“And will we? Can we afford to lose so much time? It feels like something is around the corner.”

“Yes, it does. But I think we do have time. At least time enough to reach our destination safely.”

“What do you think we can expect from the Brotherhood?”

“Expect? For one thing it's safest to assume they are expecting us. They will be on guard and receive any strangers with great suspicion, at the very least.”

“But,” Katja batted a branch from her face and ducked under another one. “How do dark sorcerers stay on guard? What do I need to watch out for?”

“Anything. If they know one of us is around they usually pull out all the stops. They usually lay traps in their lairs, both conventional and magical, and scores of runes to hide anything suspicious. Some can also leave their bodies and spy as ghosts. It is a rare but dangerous ability. If you feel you sense a supernatural presence try not to say out loud anything you don't want others to know.”

“And so what is long-term solution to a situation like that?”

“Defensive magics. The Sentinel Flame. Or to just wait until the person must return to their body or risk death.”

They walked at an even pace until dawn before resting in a hollow and ate of the food the Shades had given them. After a brief nap they continued to the south, and Serdra explained some things about the runes used by the Brotherhood.

“How much do you know about runes?” Serdra asked.

“About them? I know they are more common than real white magic but not as, well, spectacular. According to the stories. Is it true that Eva the White could cure plagues by touching people? And that Anton of the Mounts could control wild beasts?”

“Yes, so I'm told. The runes don't have such extreme effects, but a genuine rune master is a valuable individual.”

“Genuine?”

“Anyone can draw symbols on paper or a clay tablet. Those who can harness actual power in such things are more rare.” Serdra shrugged without an expression on her face. “Ever since the Jukiala education system collapsed the old art has been slowly turning into superstition and ignorant fiddling. Do not entrust your life to runes unless the maker knows their craft.”

“I'll keep it in mind,” Katja muttered as they walked. She found the conversation strange. White magicians, those who had one foot in the spirit world and could do great things with their will alone were good subjects for fireplace stories. But they were also so rare and distant that it was sometimes easy to doubt they had ever actually existed. But runes were a different matter. Runes for luck and good health could be seen anywhere and were a source of security for people.

And apparently it was mere superstition.

“What about the Brotherhood's runes?” she asked after a brief silence.

“They are not entirely different from those used by rune masters,” the woman said, “and they can do similar things. But their runes are often more loathsome in their nature. Zakari taught them to use more solid magics in a different way, and in effect pervert them. They can cause illness rather than ease curses, bind spirits to places rather than bar their entry and hide the supernatural rather than reveal it.”

The next break was at noon, after much trouble getting through the wildest part of the forest. The sun caressed them through the foliage as they ate a bit more of their supplies and practised the stealth language.

Then the walk continued and soon they found a little-used trail which made things easier.

They could occasionally glimpse the mounts beyond the channel and Serdra used them for guidance.

“We are making decent progress,” she said. “We should reach the Fell tomorrow afternoon.” The woman then gazed along the trail, with a slightly distant look on her face. “And I think we are,” she hesitated, “yes, we are close.”

“Close to what?” Katja asked.

“Something I think you should see. It's only a minor digression. We can afford it.”

The sun hung over the horizon when Serdra suddenly stopped. She looked around carefully and closed her eyes and stood perfectly still, as she always did when using the sensitivity.

Then she suddenly sprang into action and walked a short while until she came to an old oak.

“Yes,” she said and touched the bark lightly. “This is the right place. Come.”

She motioned for Katja to follow and walked east into the thicket. Katja followed through branches and bushes feeling a bit nervous. Serdra's surprises were more often than not unpleasant.

She didn't sense anything unusual but she also didn't trust her sensitivity perfectly. What could be hidden in a wild forest that had stayed in place since Serdra's last visit to Baldur's Coast?

Serdra broke though bar-like foliage and into a clearing.

“Here.”

The 'clearing' was very small. It seemed to Katja it wouldn't take more than ten people to form a dance circle in its outer limits. The only thing of note was a moss-covered rock in the middle of it. It was about the size of a large bed.

Serdra was as silent as the rock and Katja looked at the two of them for a few moments.

“What? Did you shed your virginity on top of it?”

“Find out for yourself. Practice your past-sense a bit.”

Katja stiffened. She remembered the events she'd seen in the cabin on Flat Top; how the horror had slid inside her and shaken everything up. So here was something else that had left deep marks.

She took a hesitant step towards the rock. Suddenly she could easily picture the clearing in the dead of night: Encircled by a thick wall of trees, far from dwellings and witnesses.

She looked at Serdra. The woman stood and watched her and waited patiently. Katja stepped up on the rock and took a deep breath. She was afraid but also felt the Call. Something very dangerous was coming and her nature demanded she do something about it. Besides, her curiosity was piqued. The lust for adventure.

This is what I AM
, she thought.
I'm going to give in anyway. I need to learn this. Better hurry up with it.

She knelt on the moss, closed her eyes and began the battle for emptying her mind. She breathed slowly and deeply and tried to let little pieces of her thoughts exit with every exhalation.

Katja didn't sense how much time this took, such thoughts interfered with concentration, but in time she felt the present grow distant. Or was she growing distant from
it
?

This place was an opening. The divide was thin, and people had taken advantage of that through the years. There was blood on the rock and the moss and in the grass, both fresh and long since turned to nothing. People came at night, always at night, their faces hidden behind wrappings, sometimes with books and sometimes with knives and something to stick them into. Something to waken, attract, entice something from beyond the divide. And they learned.

But those were phantoms, shadows of events long past mixing together into one mess. There was something else far more recent and unique which shone like a lantern in darkness.

Three men stood by the rock in the twilight half a century ago, all special in different ways. One was a Redcloak with a sharp face and white hair, a rock-hard warrior who had experienced everything. Another one was a true rune master, a learned and wise man of middle age. And the third was a white magician with distant eyes and an aura that shone with strange power.

They battled in unison, though not with swords and not against visible enemies. They battled the opening. The rune master arranged clay plates in a circle around the rock. On each one he wrote strange runes with great precision and focus, just as his grandfather had taught him.

The entities on the other side were angry. They sensed their enemies and their intentions but the Redcloak lit the Sentinel Flame to stop up the opening, his face hard with concentration. Meanwhile the magician summoned the power the spirits granted him. Spells ran from his lips and into the opening and managed to close it. Stitch it together.

It was all a fantastic effort. They were three earthly men trying to affect the divide. The rune master muttered minor words of power over his plates and had to trust that he'd done the runes exactly right. A bead of sweat ran down the Redcloak's forehead while he used his life force as fuel and the magician wore himself out by channelling so much power through himself.

But it worked. The divide closed and the clearing again became a completely ordinary clearing. The men with the knives and hidden faces stopped appearing and the trio vanished. Now nothing remained except shadows.

Katja slowly drifted into the present. The trees grew, some died and other rose in their place and very little happened until she opened her eyes and remembered where she was.

This hadn't been as bad as the last time. People had died in this clearing but it had been a long time ago and the murders had been relatively quick. She still felt bad though, and her hands shook as she stroked her face.

Serdra held her tongue as Katja recovered, something Katja appreciated.

“Did you choose this route to Wave Fell to show me this place?” she asked quietly after some time.

“I chose this route because it suits us the best. The war, as we know it, has lasted for more than a thousand years. It has left marks all over the world. Many battlefields.”

“This was a sacrificial place,” Katja said, to get the obvious out of the way.

“Yes, among other things,” Serdra said. “Sorcerers use places where the divide is thin to perform rituals, learn and to contact demons. If you find a place like this in the wild you may very well benefit from spying on traffic in the area.”

“These places can be shut off.”

“Yes. But as you saw it is very difficult. At least one elder has died from sealing a particularly dangerous opening by himself. Alliances such as the one you saw are very precious when they form.”

Katja nodded and stood up.

“I will keep it mind. Was that your predecessor in the vision? Gavin Bloodhand?”

“Yes. About fifty years ago. Before I set foot in Baldur's Coast. He told me of this incident and I decided to use my past-sight on it. Then it was relatively recent and I probably saw it about as clearly as you did now.”

“How long does it take to get used this?” Katja asked and followed her mentor rather unsteadily.