Fire Mage (8 page)

“Mice? Oh little mice?” Calasar said, “A bit of cheese, a bit of bread, a bit of red from your bloody head….”

“Don’t scare them,” the woman whispered. Then loudly, “We’re not here to hurt you.”

“Are we really only collectors then? While the others are marauding the city, setting fire, sizzling innocent pets with lightning bolts, we’re stuck down in all this gloom looking for a stupid boy?”

A boy? Talis thought. Why were they looking for him? He pointed towards a mausoleum far off in the corner. Mara nodded, following as they stalked away from the sorcerers. The white light disappeared and Talis stopped, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Instead of voices, they heard only the lonely hiss of steam from an air vent. They crept along, staring at carvings of bulls and eagles and lions along the stone walls of the mausoleum.
 

At the base, he looked up and read the inscription:
Master Baribariso, Legendary Wielder of the Kalashi Sword, Undefeated in Battle, Yet Defeated by Old Age
…

“I’ve heard of him,” Mara whispered, tracing her fingers over a carving of a lion with long fangs.
 

“Champion from an age past. Do we dare hide inside?”

“This is a place of refuge.”

“Mice chattering away…so easy to find you.” Calasar lifted his fingers and aimed at Talis. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

“He has a bad temperament,” the woman said, “you’d best do as he says.”

“Leave us alone…” Mara thrust her dagger out.

The sorcerers broke into laughter, wide smiles stretching across their faces, as if they were in pain.

“You expect us to be scared of a little mouse with a dagger?” Calasar said.

Talis tried to remember what he’d done to cast the fire spell. If he could only cast it again. He raised his hands towards Calasar, then stopped. Calasar had a long, nasty scar that stretched across his face. When he grinned, it was more like a snarl. Talis knew he didn’t stand a chance of defeating them.

“If you’re thinking of casting a spell, beware,” the woman said. “He’ll make it very painful for you. You’ll stay alive, and yet Master Calasar has an amazing knack for delivering excruciating pain, especially to the toenails and fingernails. Imagine! An electrical spell that only inflicts pain to the tips of your fingers and to your stubby little mouse toes. Simply genius.”

Mara lowered her dagger in defeat, casting a wary glance at Calasar.

“I won’t hurt him.” Calasar grabbed Talis by the wrist. In a flash of brilliant light, Calasar summoned a dark and shimmering magical portal. “Inside you go. Tell your friend goodbye, for it’s likely the last time you’ll ever see her.”

“No!” Mara shouted, and grasped the blue amulet hanging from her neck. “Hear me, Goddess Nestria, my plea is simple and my heart pure. Prevent these dark ones from taking my friend.”

Calasar turned and laughed. “The little mouse begs to the Goddess of the Sky? As if Nestria would ever hear a mouse’s plea? Sooner Zagros would take you—”

At the name of the Lord of the Underworld, low rumblings and hissings were heard throughout the crypts, as if all the dead masters of the Order complained in unison. A rushing wind struck their faces, a hot wind, smelling of pine and storm. Dust also came, blasting their eyes, and Talis fell to his knees, pinching his eyes together, trying to make tears to clear his vision. But the wind only increased, striking so fiercely the stones of the mausoleum made an awful splintering crack.
 

“Who dares violate my house of rest?” a high, nasally voice boomed. Talis could hear a loud stirring inside the mausoleum, as if the champion was waking from a long slumber.

“It sounds as if the Goddess has heard this little mouse’s plea after all,” Mara said.

“The dead obey Calasar,” the woman said. “He’s mastered the shadow and the necrotic arts.”

“Including one such as I?” A shriveled, pasty mess of a man stumbled out of the mausoleum, wearing a ringmail coat and leggings of some dull silver alloy. He coughed and vile dust spewed from his lungs, the stench of spoiled flesh and organs. He lifted a curved blade with great difficulty, and stared along its damaged edge. Sighing, the man growled a deep growl, as if angry at his condition. Soon the withered and dried flesh under his skin wiggled to life, filling his body with youth once more. His bald flaky scalp turned ruddy and chestnut hair grew down to his shoulders. And yet a scar on his neck, present in death, remained.

Calasar strode up to the champion, stopped, and stared up at the inscription. “Master Baribariso, I presume?”

The champion scowled at nowhere in particular, flourished his sword, and allowed it to slice cleanly through Calasar’s neck. Master Baribariso grunted, ignoring the head gurgling bloodily on the ground.
 

“And you, my pet?” he said, staring tenderly at the woman.

She shrieked, and chose instead to flee inside the magical portal, which closed up behind her in a vast whooshing sound.
 

Master Baribariso sniffed, glancing around. “Such cowards exist in this time. Who has summoned me?”

Mara shrunk back, inviting the champion’s stare.
 

“Little one, be not afraid…I won’t harm you.” Master Baribariso sheathed his sword, and with a long sigh, arched his back. “I am tired from my long sleep. It pains me to find myself back in mortal flesh. The Fair Seas of the Underworld were so kind to me.”

“Have you seen my brother?” Talis said, his voice trembling. “A stout young man, Xhan Storm.“

“Ah, names and titles and grand positions…none are of importance in the Underworld.” He touched his head, as if trying to remember something. “I had a name once, before the shroud of death washed my memory clean. What was it now?”

“Master Baribariso—”

“Yes! That’s it, what a grand name. Now it’s all coming back.” The champion placed a finger on his forehead. “And there is more, so much more. I have a message for you—both of you—today is a day of war and mourning. Mothers are weeping above in the city of Naru.” He tapped his head, and reached out his hand, as if grasping something from the sky. A shimmering mist appeared and from within it he withdrew a circular map case with a golden clasp, shaped in the image of the sun.

“What is that?” Mara said, her voice weak and quivering.

“This is not for you, and yet it pertains to you, as you are connected to the grand scheme.” The Master handed Talis the map case. “Within lies the ancient Surineda Map, spoken of in legend, hidden by the Goddess Nestria until the time when the world needs the light to balance out the darkness.”

“Master Holoron spoke of this map.” Talis stared at the case. “Is this real or a waking dream? I’ve dreamed all this—”

“This is no dream, young master. Soon your city will ask things of you that bear a heavy burden. You must leave your city….”

“Leave Naru?” Talis said.
 

The champion nodded, and peered into Talis’s eyes. “You must leave all this behind and follow the noble path, the warrior’s path. When you open the map case, the Surineda Map will point you to your destination. And you must obey, or this world will fall…fall into endless darkness.”

“But how can I leave now? Now that we’re at war?”

“You will find a way.” Master Baribariso’s eyes shone with a golden light. “I feel the lure of the Immortals pulling me. I have answered the call of the Goddess, left the comfort of the Fair Seas, and now a new way opens before me…” A silver and gold portal appeared in the darkness of the crypts, and the champion disappeared inside.

Under twilight’s soft haze, the smoking city of Naru looked like an injured dog licking its wounds. Talis surveyed the damage, staring out over the city from the deck outside his bedroom loft. Smoldering fires here and there, broken towers, cracks in the temple dome, many houses and buildings in ruin. But considering the scope of the attack, the damage was less than he’d expected.
 

But would they survive the next attack?

He yawned, surprised he’d slept all day after finally crawling to bed early in the morning after the attack. In his hands he held the map case, given to him by the champion in the crypts. He hadn’t dared open the case, instead holding it as if it were a serpent coiled, waiting to strike. As if it might bring ruin to his life. Where would the Surineda Map lead him? An ache in his gut told him it would be far away, far from his home, far from the coming battle with the Jiserian Empire. Would it even make a difference? And could he make it back in time to help?

Talis heard soft footsteps behind him. He tensed, then relaxed as he recognized Mara’s steps.
 

“You’re getting better, but I still knew it was you.”

“How could you tell?” Mara jumped on his back. “You’re not supposed to hear me, you’re supposed to be surprised.”

“I’m trained to listen to you.” Talis flipped her around, and stopped, gaping at her painted face and tied-up hair. “What happened to you?”

Mara shrugged. “Mother’s determined to marry me off to the duke. Even after we won the Blood Dagger, she’s refused to listen to me. And now she’s insisted I get all done up like this and meet with his parents….”

“But you’re here…aren’t you going to be in trouble?”

“Whatever… I’m not marrying him and I’m not interested in meeting his stupid old parents.”

Talis chuckled. “How did you get away?”

“Now that’s a story. They locked me in the fourth-floor servant quarters.”

“And you escaped out the window and climbed down?”

“I eluded several guardsmen and servants at the front.” Mara’s face turned serious all of a sudden. “But listen, I didn’t come here for fun. You’ve got to go to the Sej Elders with the Surineda Map.”

“I’m not going—”

“Have you even bothered opening it?” She scowled. “You haven’t, have you. Give it to me.”

“No…the champion gave it to me. I should open it.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Of course she was right… He looked down at the map and twisted open the latch. Inside, the coiled parchment glowed with a faint golden light. He withdrew the map, feeling a radiant heat slither up his arms, until his entire body became warm. He felt suddenly sleepy and his eyes closed instinctively. In his mind he saw a beautiful, luminescent woman with golden, flowing hair observing him, as if measuring his worth. After she seemed satisfied, she nodded, and disappeared.
 

“I think I just saw the Goddess of the Sun, the Goddess Nacrea.”

“A vision?”

Talis nodded, and turned his attention to the map, sealed with a waxy stamp, the sun inscribed within. He glanced up at Mara. She nodded, urging him to open it. He broke the seal and the map released a hissing sound like a spitting snake. As he unfurled the map, golden light spilled out from within, revealing the shimmering landmass of the continent Talis was familiar with and other areas unknown: a large snowy island to the north, scattered islands off to the west with one long, spindly island running alongside, and far to the east, beyond the city of Khael, was a lush, tropical island. When he stared at that island, he could feel warm sunlight flowing through his veins. That was it, the island… They had to travel to the island.

Mara seemed to have followed his gaze, for she pointed at the island. “Is that where we’re going?”

“I think so…I feel something strong there. I never knew such islands existed—”

“I’ve seen a map in Master Holoron’s library showing the western islands…but not this one.” Her finger ran along the map, and she winced as if noticing the heat that emanated from within.

“See, I told you. There’s the power of Light Magic within….”

“You have to tell the Elders about the map. Don’t shake your head, you have to do it! Last night was only the first attack…next time will be worse.”

Next time. Talis felt the hairs along the back of his neck prickle. He pictured the dark sorcerers raining fire and lightning bolts down on the city. And that was only an aerial attack. If the Jiserian ground forces came with siege machines, what would be left of their city? Or could the map help them to win?

“Just take the map to them—the Sej Elders will listen—take it at once.” Mara shoved her hands on her hips, as if daring him to think otherwise.

Talis bowed his head, giving in. He had never been to the Sej Elder chambers and wondered what it would be like to finally set foot inside. His father was a leading member of the Elders, but had refused Talis entry until he came of age. He was about to head downstairs when he stopped, realizing the problem. There was no way they’d let him inside. Especially now that the Elders were debating on how to respond to the Jiserian attack.

“Who’s going to listen to us…we’re just kids.” Talis glanced at Mara. “Even if we went, they won’t let us in. It’s forbidden.”

“Find a way around…let’s sneak inside.” Mara’s eyes glittered dangerously.

“The entrance is heavily guarded—by multiple soldiers and wizards and at different levels—especially now we’re at war. And my father isn’t popular these days. His seat at the head of the Elders is at risk. If I did something crazy like trying to break in and see them, he’d be furious.”