The First Confessor (32 page)

“But you know that the dream walkers—”

“Yes, yes, I know that dream walkers are real, but am I to believe the preposterous story that they are already here, on the loose in the Keep, just because you say they are, when there is no proof except your own self-serving stories of how they attacked you and sent monsters to kill Isidore when you were alone with her? Am I to discount the credible charges against you and Baraccus brought by no less an authority than our eminent prosecutor and some members of the council, all saying that your wild stories of plots against our people and traitors in our midst are really meant to distract people from your own guilt? How can I be expected to disregard such serious accusations?”

He opened his arms before her. “So you tell me. Are you a traitor to the Midlands, as so many people say?”

Magda swallowed. She was sure that her face was bright red.

“For not living up at the Keep any longer, you certainly seem to have heard some of the ugliest gossip.”

He arched an eyebrow in a way that would have made her back up a step if the couch hadn’t been at her heels.

“Gossip? Not merely gossip, but the suspicions of even high officials. People say that since the charges are so serious there must be something to them. So, you tell me, Magda. Are they true? I need to know if I’m talking to a traitor. I think I have a right to know before I answer any of your questions.”

Her hands fisted as she glared at him. “None of it is true. It’s all lies. Hateful, despicable lies.” Her gaze fell away. “But I admit that I have no way of revealing the truth to you. I wish I did, but I don’t.”

He did the oddest thing, then. He smiled. “And I would wish for a way to reveal the truth to you as well. But the truth can seem awfully small and insignificant when compared to a mountain of lies.”

Magda was angry. She hated to hear such terrible things said about Baraccus. She knew that some people believed those very lies while the truth was that he had given his life to protect the people of the Midlands. She didn’t know why, yet, but she knew that was why Baraccus had died.

Merritt spread his hands. “Do the accusations make Baraccus guilty? Make you guilty?”

“No.”

“Ah, but you worry that similar accusations make me guilty. You worry that, because the accusations are so serious, they must be true.”

“I see your point.” She looked away from his eyes as she wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry, Merritt, for being so unfair. I’m sorry to come to you out of the blue, without invitation, and dare to question you about things I’ve heard.

“But this is about our very survival. If I make a mistake, and trust the wrong person, we could all pay with our lives.”

“At least you had the courtesy to come and ask me for the truth instead of simply accepting the lies.” Sadness haunted his smile. “It’s ironic that so much of my life’s work has been devoted to being able to find a way to ensure that we know the truth when it’s important enough, when lives are at stake, and now lies are used against me and that work.”

“I see what you mean,” Magda said, “I really do. I feel like I need to prove my innocence to you, and at the same time I feel helpless because I can’t.”

His smile was reassuring. “Baraccus was quite a remarkable man and no fool. I’ve always thought that there had to be a good reason why he considered you worthy to stand beside him. Baraccus believed in you. That says a great deal to me.”

Magda felt conflicted. She didn’t want to ask him about the things she’d heard, didn’t want to give the accusations credibility, but at the same time she needed to put the issues to rest and so far they hadn’t been.

“I can tell by the look on your face how troubled you are. You don’t know me, so it’s understandable that you don’t know what to believe. Why don’t you go ahead and ask the things you need to know about.”

Magda nodded as she took a seat once more, hoping that by sitting it might take some of the hostility out of her question.

“I’ve heard accusations from wizards who were there that men died because you had abandoned your duty to them. I need to know why they think you are responsible for the deaths. I need to know if you are the kind of man who would walk away and let other men die. I realize that it isn’t fair of me to repeat such charges from others, or to expect you to answer them. You certainly don’t owe me the truth.”

She looked up into his eyes. “But please, Merritt, I’m trying to find answers to what is really going on. I believe that the Keep, all of our lives, are in grave danger. I need to find out what is really going on before it’s too late. Would you please not take offense at my asking these questions and simply tell me the truth?”

“And how will I prove to you that I’m telling you the truth?”

She smiled a bit. “As it so happens, the truth has always mattered a great deal to me. Baraccus often said that I was the bane of liars. I’d like to think that I’m a person who can recognize the truth when it’s told to me, or detect a lie, and often I can, but I guess that in the end I have no real way of knowing truth from lies.

“I’d still like to hear your side of it.”

Merritt nodded as he pulled a footstool closer and sat facing her on the wicker couch.

“There are people who want things,” he said, “but they aren’t willing to listen to the truth about the things they want.”

“That’s true enough in a general sense, but what does it have to do with people saying that men died because of you?”

“If you want to know the truth, then it takes some explaining so that you can understand. Bear with me?”

Magda conceded with a nod for him to go on.

“There are those at the Keep who want a specific kind of magic invested in an object. They want me to do it.”

Magda glanced around the room at all the strange objects lying about everywhere. There were things of every size and shape. Some were recognizable, some weren’t. Some of the objects looked innocent enough, while others looked like they would snap shut and take off a finger if she were to touch them.

“What kind of object?”

He rubbed his palms on his knees as he searched for words. “Well, it’s a kind of key to unlocking repositories of great power.”

“A key? These people want you to make a key?”

Merritt waved a hand as if to minimize the impression. “I use the word ‘key’ loosely. It’s only a key in the sense that it works to unlock the power. I’m trying to make it as simple as possible.”

“Sorry I’m so dense.”

His face turned red. “I didn’t mean it to sound that way. It came out wrong. It’s just that it can get awfully complicated to explain.”

“So help me understand so that I can know the truth.”

He took a deep breath before going on. “You see, it’s not the specific key—the object itself—that really matters. The key, the object portion of it, could actually be a lot of different things. What matters is the specific magic invested in that object. The magic is what makes it a key that functions to unlock the power.”

She didn’t think that sounded all that complicated.

He was choosing his words carefully. It wasn’t uncommon for wizards not to want to reveal details. Baraccus had sometimes done the same thing, even with her.

It could also be that Merritt was being evasive for some reason. After all, she had asked about men who died because of him. At least, that was what she’d heard. It could be hearsay. On the other hand, he might be trying to shift blame.

Magda decided to let him explain it in his own way and to be open-minded about what she heard.

“I’ve worked on this key, as it were, for years. It’s a project that has long been close to my heart. These people, who have only recently come to be aware of the existence of this power, believe that it’s very important that I go forward and complete the key, but for reasons of their own.

“The thing is, I can’t complete the key because it’s impossible to complete. More importantly, though, it’s unnecessary.”

Magda couldn’t let that go. “If it’s the key to opening great power, why is it unnecessary? Especially now, when we’re at war? Couldn’t this power maybe help us?”

“No, it can’t.”

“How can you be certain?”

“Because,” he said, “I learned that the chests—”

“Chests?”

“Yes, the chests are the repositories of this power that these people want to be able to unlock. It’s not actually the chests that the key unlocks, but the power contained within them. Like I said, I’m trying to make something extremely complex understandable.”

Magda nodded for him to go on, but her mind was already reeling with worries. She reminded herself not to jump to conclusions.

“Anyway,” he said, “I learned that the chests were taken away to the Temple of the Winds by the Temple team. I don’t know if they were supposed to be taken there or not, but the simple fact remains that they were. Some on the team did say that they wanted to protect mankind from the tyranny of magic. Perhaps that’s what they meant and why they did it. In any event, they’re safe there, sealed away out of reach in the underworld.”

Magda’s heart felt like it skipped a beat. Her skin went icy cold with goose bumps.

Merritt frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Magda swallowed. “Nothing.”

“Your face just turned white.”

“It’s nothing. Probably the heat.”

But it was something. The whole world felt as if it was crushing in on her. She knew that once a new First Wizard was named, she had to tell him what she knew.

She reminded herself that she might be jumping to conclusions. She wished she could slow her racing heart.

Merritt sprang up and went to a side table. He hurriedly poured a glass of water. He handed her the glass and then sat again on the stool in front of her, watching her with great concern.

“Take a drink. It will help.”

“Thanks.” Magda took a sip. “I’m fine. Please, go on with what you were telling me.”

Merritt watched to make sure she took a few more sips before continuing the story. “Well, since the chests are safely locked away in the Temple of the Winds, there is no longer any point in me attempting to complete the investment of magic in the key to unlock their power. But even more importantly, even if I wanted to, it can’t be done.”

Magda needed time to think. She couldn’t be sure, after all, that he was talking about the same thing. There were a great many things, important things, all dangerous, that had been sealed away in the Temple of the Winds.

“You mean it can’t be done because of the rare rift calculations for creating a seventh-level breach that Baraccus couldn’t give you?”

Merritt leaned back and blinked in surprise. “You know about that?”

Magda worked to keep her voice under control. “Baraccus told me about it some time back when you went to see him. I remember him saying that you had wanted the rift calculations for such a breach. Apparently, he thought a lot of you because he told me that he wished he could have given you what you needed, but he couldn’t because the formulas were sealed away in the Temple of the Winds and no one could get to them.”

Merritt was staring at her, so she knew that she had to say something.

“So, is that why you can’t complete the magic for this key?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Magda was struck by the sincerity of his frustration. She watched his eyes look away as he went on, almost as if talking to himself, opening again the wound of his disappointment.

“I’ve spent years working on the details of the conjured structure. No one else understands it the way I do. They don’t understand its true purpose.” He looked up. “You see, I don’t believe that it was ever supposed to be just a key.”

“What do you mean? Why not?”

He leaned in more intently. “I’ve come to believe that what is contained in these receptacles, these chests, is the only form of power known to exist that predates the star shift.”

“You really believe that’s what in the chests?”

“Yes. That’s why I was so sure in the first place that there have to be formulas for a seventh-level breach. Baraccus confirmed their existence when he told me that they were locked away in the Temple of the Winds.”

Merritt’s gaze was locked on her eyes. “If I’m right, which I am, then this power is an order of magnitude beyond what anyone understands. If I’m right, it contains enough power to destroy the world of life.”

Magda took a sip of water for the chance to look away from the intensity of his hazel eyes. She couldn’t make her fingers stop trembling.

“Dear spirits . . . is that really even possible? Do you actually think such a thing could be true, that something could have that much power?”

“I do. I think the key was originally intended to contain the seventh-level-breach code in order to harness that power. That’s why the breach code exists. It has no other purpose. Same with the rift calculations.”

“You mean, as in a rift in the world of life? And the breach code cracks the egg?”

He betrayed what he thought of her analogy with a small smile before he went on.

“After years of tracking down everything I could about the origins of the power and what it really is, I think I have come to understand it as no one else does.”

“And what have you come to understand?”

“Well, first and foremost, I know enough not to fool myself into thinking I know everything. But from what I do know, I believe that any number of people would have enough knowledge or ability to misuse it and cause great harm. What they likely don’t understand, though, is that in pursuing their own ends, they could inadvertently annihilate all life.

“But that’s if it’s misused. I’m convinced that this power needs more than a simple key if it is to function properly. I’ve found bits and pieces in ancient texts that give me cause to believe that the key, in a way, also has to be a caretaker of the power, a kind of protector.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Magda said, absently, as she tried to corral her galloping thoughts.

She had never felt so lonely. She didn’t know what to do, who she could turn to. Merritt seemed the obvious choice, but there was too much she didn’t know about him. If anything she’d heard turned out to be true, telling him could very well turn out to be the worst decision she could make.