Storm of Prophecy: Book 1, Dark Awakening (19 page)

“Oh hi,” Stacy greeted, looking surprised to see them there. She eyed Vincent up and down. “You’re looking well, Vincent.” Her pretty blue eyes then looked at each in turn. “What are you three doing up here at this time of night?”

Karl started briefly explaining what Vincent had done and made sure to mention the recklessness of it all at least once. Thankfully, he spoke more in a manner of conveying the trouble they were all in than in pinning blame. Stacy’s eyes followed each of them as they took turns speaking. Instead of looking shocked or showing any emotion in response, her face remained calm.

Stacy was about Vincent’s age, maybe a little older, and usually had a more cynical attitude and approach to different things. He guessed this was why she seemed unmoved by what she was hearing. Her magical skill was atmomancy, the discipline associated with the sky, the weather, and the heavens, but in conversation, she usually provided unique and critical insight into the most unusual subjects and frequently had something constructive to offer about the mundane as well. If there was ever a time when they needed her on their side, and to offer up her unique perspectives, it was now.

Rick was just finishing up. “…if we search for this word’s meaning, it might provide us with…”

“You three are bent on hunting down this cult by yourselves, aren’t you?” She asked, cutting him off. “Without consent from the council and outside of your legal range of authority.”

It sounded like a recrimination.

Vincent held his breath.

“That’s right,” Rick answered cautiously before continuing, “and we would like to…”

“I’ll help,” she volunteered before he could say more. They hadn’t even asked her to yet.

“What?” Karl asked in shock, unfolding his arms.

“Just like that,” Rick said, “you don’t want to hear more? There could be trouble if we’re caught.”

She dimmed her eyes as she shook her head in a way that reminded Vincent of Master Anthony early that morning; she seemed to be picking up his habits. “Dust in the wind,” she answered cryptically.

Vincent felt his brow form into a suspicious frown. “Still, you’re well respected. Why would someone like you be so eager to tarnish themselves with something like this?” By the expressions on Rick and Karl’s faces, they seemed to share his concern.

Stacy looked around at each curious face. Then she took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. “Because it’s actually much worse than what you’ve told me, and I want to put a stop to it at once.”

Vincent was intrigued. “How do you know it’s worse?”

“Because Bawsenneji’s approach is masking Xabran as it recedes from its perihelion with…” she caught herself when she realized they didn’t know what she was talking about. “Oh it’s probably better if I just show you.” She walked past them, heading toward the center of the room. “Come this way.”

They followed her, as did Karl’s rock, to the middle of the circle that was the vast floor. Above them was where the crystalline shingles all met at their apex. It felt like they were standing inside of a diamond.

Stacy looked up and was about to start lifting her hands but then stopped and turned to the rest of them, seeming preoccupied with something else. “The three of you took quite a risk in telling me what you did,” she pointed out. “Am I to assume that is because you are trusting me not to share it with anyone else?”

“That’s correct,” Vincent affirmed.

“I’m touched, really I am. Unfortunately, I’m going to have to ask you to do the same”
-
she shared a look with each in turn, pointing a finger at each of them as she spoke
-
“don’t share with anyone what you are about to see,” she warned. “It is a dangerous prophecy that should never become public knowledge
-
it would wreak havoc and cause mass hysteria.” She paused a moment. “Even more so since it is almost upon us.” Vincent felt a chill go through his body. “Understood?” They all voiced that they did.

Stacy glanced carefully at each of them again before looking upward once more at the ceiling. As she cast her arms out, not stiffly but with a bend at each elbow, the entire roof of the tower appeared to slowly vanish. In its place, and all around them, was the night sky without any trace that the mesh of glass shards had ever existed. The nearly full moon shone down on them from its position in the southern sky and had a plethora of stars surrounding it. The beauty was astounding. When she raised her open hands upward, her widespread fingers seeming to caress and cradle the heavens, stars flew down by the edges of the tower as if it had shot upward toward the sky.

She let her arms fall down and their ascent was halted. She continued looking up as she spoke. “Not all people or events have their fates written upon the stars,” she began. “The life of one person, for instance, does not weigh so heavily upon the heavens. Only sufficiently large forces of nature disrupt the celestial alignment, leaving the slightest wake in the stars before they take place.”

She waved her right hand above her and a part of the sky with the specific stars she wanted them to see became larger and closer in their view. Vincent could see clearly two bright stars, a smaller blue one on the left and a bigger, more menacing red one on the right. “This star,” she said, pointing to the blue one on the left, “is Zugon, ‘The Witness to The Ages.’ It’s place is a relative constant with the shifting of the seasons. When Xabran, a smaller white star, can be seen circling it, the usual cycles of nature are in play, and if it passes behind Zugon, an age has passed.” She pointed to the menacing red star on the right. “This is Bawsenneji, ‘The Raging Tempest.’ Where he passes, only destruction follows, and then nature must replenish itself afterward. If it can. This time, he is masking Xabran directly, striking at the very heart of the natural order.”

“What does that mean?” Rick asked.

She gathered herself by taking a deep breath before answering. “It means that we are about to face a calamity of enormous magnitude.”

“What kind of calamity?” Rick asked next.

“I’m not sure,” she said, “something really bad, and really out of proportion.”

“Could you be a little more cryptic? I think I understood part of that,” Karl mocked. “A crazed fortune teller on the street could have said the same thing, and I’d put just about as much stock in it.”

“How dare you!” She snapped back, not looking at all pleased with his remark.

Rick stepped between them and put his hands up to prevent any further altercation. “Now, now, we’re all on the same side here.”

Vincent was too busy racking his mind over the significance to pay too much attention to the exchange. A new approach suddenly struck him, and he turned to Stacy. “If you can’t tell us exactly what it is, do you think you could tell us other things about it?”

Stacy looked back toward him, most of the ire seemed to be leaving her face, but the trace of a scowl remained. “Like what?”

“Like what it is not, for instance?”

Her eyes looked around, considering. “Possibly,” she offered with caution. Rick stepped back and gave them each more space when he was sure they were going to be civil.

Vincent folded his arms and put a hand to his chin as he thought long and hard on what to ask her. He decided to start first with eliminations. If she didn’t have an answer, he could eliminate that by starting with something else, something more general and less specific. “Is it an earthquake?”

Stacy looked back up at the two stars, making a skeptical
um
sound. “No.”

“Is it a tidal wave or a flood?” Rick asked.

It took her less time to think about it. “No.”

Intrigued, Karl also joined in. “What about a volcano or a large forest fire?”

“No.”

“Could it be a…” Vincent started.

Stacy scrunched her eyelids closed and held up her hands, waving them as if to try to shield herself from their questions. “No, it’s not any of these.” She opened her eyes. “The events you are all describing are catastrophic, yes, but are still a part of the natural cycle. They are also very short in their duration, short and violent.”

“So you’re saying that this disaster is much more permanent?” Rick asked.

Stacy’s eyes widened when she looked at him, and she appeared a little more frightened as she nodded her head slightly. “Yes. Most definitely.”

Vincent still needed more. “Can you tell us anything else about it’s nature?” She looked confused, and so he clarified further. “If you were to imagine it were something, anything, could you guess at how much damage it would cause?”

“There are many kinds of damage,” she pointed out.

“Let’s take lives,” Vincent suggested, a knot growing in his stomach, “how many deaths would this cause?”

Stacy looked back up at the two stars, then she looked at some of the nearby phenomena for a good while. The other three looked up with her. Vincent saw a comet and a shooting star, appearing much larger than one would normally see. There was even a small patch of stars that were wreathed in a cloud of other colors. When he interrupted Stacy to ask what it was, she said it was something called a nebula. They were all silent after that, and when Stacy finally sighed, they redirected their attention to her.

“This cataclysm,” she began, turning to look at Vincent, “if directed at lives alone, would be the same as if every living thing in our world were to suddenly die.”

They were all pretty shaken by that, and were quiet once more, feeling the enormity of it. Karl recovered from his shock first and asked a more pertinent question. “How do you know that this is in any way connected with the cult we seek?”

“Cults like theirs usually like to remain hidden. They live in constant fear of being discovered and purged. The attack on our vault was a pretty bold move on their part. Even gutsy, wouldn’t you say?”

“You believe then, that they stole from us
because
of this?” Karl asked next.

“Yes,” she answered. Then she looked him in the eyes, dimming hers slightly and spoke quietly with foreboding, “they might even know more about it than we do.”

There was an oppressive stillness to the air as they all stood silently. They were each horrified in their own way at the thought that the cult might know more or even have a hand in it. Vincent felt as though the challenges he faced had just become overwhelmingly more difficult.

“No wonder you’re less worried about your academic standing,” Rick remarked, breaking the silence. “You don’t have much to lose.”

“None of us do,” she pointed out.

Vincent felt hopelessness and despair clutching at him. “Is there no way to stop this? Can destiny be changed?”

Stacy folded her arms under her breasts as she looked off. “No one knows,” she said distantly, a sad expression on her face. “If there is a chance that this fate can be altered, then it’s definitely something worth fighting for.” She looked back up at the ceiling. The blue star and the menacing red star stared back. “Or dying for,” she added as an afterthought.

Vincent was still worried. “When will it…take place?”

“Soon.”

Chapter
VIII

A
t the conclusion of their meeting that night, they exchanged information about when and where they might contact each other if needed and divided the research task somewhat equally amongst themselves. Karl, Rick, and Stacy each took one of the libraries out on campus to begin their search while Vincent, who had more free time, agreed to start pouring through the texts in the library level two floors above the vault since it was much bigger. If someone finished early, they were to go to another library to assist someone else. Once they were done, they would all converge upon the last library located on the second deepest floor of the keep.

Vincent spent most of the next few days meticulously checking different volumes for the word that Stan and Craig both remembered. He checked lists in spell books and dictionaries from as many languages as he could, and still he found nothing. People occasionally stared at him, thinking it strange to see someone in clothes like his and wearing a sword studying in a library. Vincent had become used to it over the years he had lived at Gadrale. Lately, he spent what little time he had when he was not engrossed to occasionally stop for a meal or to practice his swordsmanship. When he became frustrated, he would duel some of the better soldiers with sticks in order to vent his aggravation at not having found it. There were a few that almost won. One time when he visited the dining hall, Stacy passed by him on her way out and told him that she was almost finished with her library. Vincent felt like he was lagging behind, but was grateful for her offer to help him with his once she was done.