Myrkron (Volume Two of The Chronicles of the Myrkron) (6 page)

BOOK: Myrkron (Volume Two of The Chronicles of the Myrkron)
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Chapter Seven

 

 

Michael continued to stare in amazement.  He forced his mind to start again.  Why did he never tell me?  All this time, he has known that I planned on kill
ing Mortow; hell I even told him as much.  He never once said a word.  None of them did.  I can see some of the younger, newer ones not knowing, but Martin was there.  He had even been instructed by Mortow.  He had to know.  And Micah, he had to know as well.  I can understand why Merric would try to hide it from me, but Micah?

Michael’s mind whirled with questions.  He didn’t know who he could trust any more.  It seemed everyone was keeping secrets from h
im.  He decided it was time to get some answers.  He focused on Mortow.

"
Yes, I can see the resemblance now; your size, the nose, the cut of your face.  I should have noticed it the first time I saw Merric."

Mortow looked slightly confused
, then his face relaxed in understanding.  "So you did see me through my scrying.  I thought it appeared as if you did.  I was under the impression that wasn't possible.  Mind telling me how you accomplished that little trick?"

Michael quickly gathered his thoughts.  I can
’t be distracted right now.  I must concentrate so I don’t slip up.  Michael set his face in a grim expression.  "I think that would be a bad idea.  I’m sure you do not share all your secrets with your students.  I don’t see why I should share mine with you."

Mortow chuckled, a deep rumbling vibration that Mi
chael could feel in his chest.

"
So you have no idea either.  Well, no matter. There are other things we can discuss.  Shall we start with your infatuation with Mieka?"  Mortow saw Michael’s ears turn red and his eyes narrow in anger.

"
That infatuation has turned to infuriation.  How I could've believed a woman like that could give me a second look seems ridiculous.  Knowing what I do of her now, I see it was all a ruse to get me here.  Beautiful women and I just don’t mix.  They either die or betray me it seems," Michael said through gritted teeth.

"
Mieka was only doing as she was instructed.  She has been extremely valuable in helping me keep apprised of the activities in Kantwell."

"
She is your spy, and I fell right into your trap," Michael said caustically.

"
Aye, she is my spy, but I see nothing binding you.  There's the door.  You are free to walk out it at any time," Mortow said gesturing to the stone door.  "I am sure Merric taught you the command word for opening such a door, and if he did not then I will tell it to you."

Once again t
he voice in Michael's head returned.  "
Aye, she is my spy. You are trapped here.  There is the door, and there's no way for you to open it
."

Michael closed his eyes and he again saw the old man in the purple robes standing before the golden doors.

The old man laughed, then whispered, "Contego ab vernero," then made a gesture toward Michael.  The gesture gave Michael the impression he was being told to get on with it.

Michael thought back,
"
Get on with what? I’m trapped here
!"

The old man slapped a hand to his forehead
, then shook his head sighing.  "
Time for you to set some ground rules, Myrkron.  He cannot trap you here or anywhere
."

Michael finally understood.  The spell the old man cast had worked.  That meant magic did work here
.  He felt a chill and then a rush of adrenaline.  If magic does work here, then I have a chance to kill him right now.  Michael flew to his feet.  He was encouraged by the surprised look on Mortow’s face.  Michael yelled out, "
Contego ab vulnero,
" he felt the familiar cool breeze slip through his mind and smiled in satisfaction as he felt the shield go up around him.

Mortow was instantly on his feet.
  He knew Michael had somehow unlocked the ninth door.  He rumbled out the same phrase, raising his own shield.

Michael could see the grim d
etermination on Mortow’s face.

"
It would be most unwise of you to challenge me, Michael.  I do not seek your death, but I will not hesitate to kill you if I’m provoked."

Michael’s smile turned predatory
, matching the gleam of rage in his eyes.  "So you were lying.  No one can use magic within this room, huh?  Now I know why Merric did not tell me he was related to you.  What father could feel pride in a son such as you?  Though you say you do not seek my death, I do seek yours.  For the death of my wife, for the death of all those villagers, for the death of all those men and dwarves in The Slot, for the death of all those who foolishly follow you, I am going to destroy you."

Again Mortow chuckled
.  "Bold words, boy.  You have never met one such as I.  I am more powerful than you could possibly imagine."

"
You are certainly more long winded than I could have imagined," Michael replied with disdain.

Mortow growled and ba
rked out, "
Pello!
"

Michael’s shield absorbed the blow.  He could feel the power behind that single word.  It was as if he had stepped in front of a moving train. 
Mortow is certainly powerful, Michael thought, but let’s see if he can take what he gives.  "
Pello!
"

Mortow’s eyes flew wide as Michael’s attack struck his shield
, and he staggered back a step.  He instantly recovered and yelled out, "
Premo!
"

Michael felt a giant hand begin to squeeze his shield.  The force was abrupt and stifling.  He made sure to lock eyes with Mortow, then
he let a small smile creep onto his face.  He whispered, too low for Mortow to hear, "
Traho
."  He watched as Mortow exerted more force, keeping the smile on his face.  "I am going to destroy you, Mortow.  I will have vengeance for my wife," Michael told him in a level voice.

Sweat beaded on Mortow
’s forehead.  How could Michael stand against his power?  He was pouring in more power than he had ever needed before, and the impudent boy just stood there smiling and taunting him.  He doubled his efforts, saving only enough in reserve for an escape.  It should've been enough force to crush a small house, but still he continues to smile.  "Give up, Michael.  I still do not wish to kill you."

Now it was Michael’s turn to laugh.  He threw his he
ad back and roared with mirth.  "You are lying again, Mortow.  You now realize that for all your training, for all your arrogance, you have finally met your match.  I can see the fear in your eyes.  You've never even dreamed of power such as I can command.  You see your death standing before you, and you are afraid."

"
Powerful you may be, Michael, but you haven’t beaten me yet." Saying that, Mortow suddenly cut off the flow of force and disappeared.

Michael moved back until his shoulders touched the wall.  He remained wary,
unsure if this was some kind of trick or not.  Suddenly realizing Mortow would return with aid, Michael pictured the lake the old man had shown him, surrounded by huge mountains, and spoke the words of transport before vanishing from the room.

Michael was angry with himself for not killing Mortow when he had the chance.  He was angry with himself for falling for Mieka.  He was angry at Merric for not
revealing that Mortow was his son.  He was angry at Micah for not telling him that same piece of information.  Michael closed his eyes and tried to calm himself.  He felt some of the tension leave his neck and shoulders.

S
ighing, he opened his eyes and looked around.  He was standing on a gentle slope leading to a good sized lake.  The waters of the lake lapped rhythmically against the shore.  The gentle wind raised small white caps on its surface and bent the knee high grasses around him in hypnotic waves.  Michael thought it looked as if God was gently running his hand over the grass.  There was no moon in the sky, but the stars were out and provided so much light that it almost seemed like daylight washed of all color.

The mountains surrounding the lake were like slumbering giants
off in the distance, their white peaks starkly visible in the bold starlight.  Michael breathed in the clean air. It was cool, but not cold, and smelled fresh and vital.  He felt himself smiling.  The familiar feeling of insignificance he always felt in the presence of nature unrestrained washed over him like an old friend.

"
If for no other reason, this makes me believe there is a God," Michael said out loud, reveling in the pristineness of the place.

"
I am glad you find the place to your liking, Michael," a voice from beside him said gently.

Michael turned his head slowly toward the
sound.  He saw a small man with long silvery hair and beard.  The top of the man’s head only came up to Michael’s shoulder.  He wore dark robes that Michael knew would be purple in daylight, yet appeared black in the starlight.  The starlight, however, could not mask the shining golden sash at the man's slim waist.

"
I want to thank you for your help back there.  Without your words, I would have continued to believe myself trapped," Michael told the man, speaking softly, as seemed proper in this place.

The old man smiled.  "I know you have many questions, Michael.  Some of them I can answer, others I cannot.  So knowing that, what is your first question?"

"
Who are you and how do you know me?"

"
That is actually two questions. But, to take them in order, I am Mason.  As for your second question, I have been waiting for you for a very long time."

"
Waiting for me?  How could you have been waiting for me?” Michael asked. “I come from an entirely different world."

"
Well, I originally waited for another, but he never came. So I have had to wait even longer for you.  It has been a very long time, and I have grown old and tired."

"
Why have you been waiting for me?"

"
So I could die.  Until one came, I have been bound to this life, unable to leave this valley other than with my mind."

"
You have been imprisoned here?"

"
In a sense, I suppose you could look at it that way.  I took a vow long ago that I would remain to pass on my knowledge to the next Myrkron.  The Great One acknowledged my vow and gifted me with this valley and an unusually long life."

"
So you're an immortal, like Micah," Michael replied.

"
No. I am not immortal, and I am nothing like your friend Micah," Mason said with a sad look.

"
How long have you been waiting for me to show up?"

"
Since the last one did not show. I have been here for close to twenty thousand years."  Mason smiled at the incredulous look on Michael’s face.  "A long time, eh?"

M
ichael shook his head.  "I don’t know why that should surprise me.  My life has turned into one long series of shocks and impossibilities since Karin was killed.  Are you here to tell me how to use my power?"  Michael inquired, changing the subject.

Mason saw the flash of pain in Michael’s eyes and tentatively reached up and placed
a hand on Michael’s shoulder.  "No, Michael, I cannot do that."

"
Then why have you waited all this time for me to arrive?"  Michael said, his voice rising in anger.

"
I have waited so I could tell you what you are.  Your powers are like my own.  I am the last Myrkron to have walked this land before your arrival.  Our powers do not function like those of normal magi. Therefore, we cannot be taught by them in anything other than the basics."

"
If I am a Myrkron, whatever that is, and you are one, then why can’t you teach me?"

"
Because our power comes from within."  Mason let his hand fall to his side and walked a couple of steps toward the lake.  He turned back to Michael and continued.  "Think of it this way.  Just as no one can give someone else the key to unlocking one of the doors of power, no one can give you insight into how to use your powers.  It is different for each of us."

"
But you opened the tenth door for me.  I saw you place your hand on it and then it opened."

Mason shook his head.
  "I did not open the door for you, Michael, you did that on your own.  Your curiosity and desire opened it.  I merely touched it, drawing your attention to it.  Even the old one that waited for me couldn’t help me with how to use my power.  And you, Michael, are more powerful than I was.  I only saw two golden doors.  You see all three."

"
Do you at least know what they do and why no one else knows of them?"

Mason smi
led again, cheerfully.  "That, I can tell you.  The first golden door opens the power of healing. It's called Ianua Vita, The Door of Life.  It is what you have most desired since learning you had magic, is it not?"

BOOK: Myrkron (Volume Two of The Chronicles of the Myrkron)
6.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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