The Adventures of Benjamin Skyhammer (4 page)

He nodded again but inside he disagreed. To be born without magic powers made him not fully human. It was a fact.

"Let's start heading back," she said. "Ten days to the coast, then another ten sailing back to Four Hills, if we have good winds."

"Before we go."

Higgins swung her backpack over her shoulder. "Yes?"

"The ceremony? How does it work?"

She opened her Whorl and started walking. "If you look at the first picture. . ."

Skyhammer returned his sword to its usual spot on his left hip, then put on his backpack and hurried after her, opening his Whorl as he caught up. He flicked to the Retrographs of the drawings in the newspaper.

"I'll keep watch as we walk." Higgins closed her Whorl.

He peered at the first drawing, his excitement growing, then flicked through the others as she talked.

The words tumbled out of her mouth; her voice filled with excitement. "This ceremony isn't just about human magic powers. Every magical species on the planet - humans, Aridizans, Flyers, Byndari, Nasuchu, and Katipo - is part of the change. Each has its own Royal Circle of magic and as a result of the ceremony, every species will be free of that magical confinement, able to do magic anywhere on Pingala."

Higgins' eyes shone as she explained how each of the six drawings outlined the ceremony's goal. "Although the Kings and Queens don't know exactly what will happen when they get inside the Kingmaker Tower, the drawings clearly show that everyone will have magic afterwards. Did you see the fifth panel that showed a large sphere inside the Tower with symbols of a crown and a bolt of lightning at the bottom? The King's Wizard thinks those symbols represent the spread magic from the Royal Circles."

Skyhammer inhaled, closing his Whorl for a moment to enjoy the wind on his face and the sun warming his skin. "How do you know this?" He glanced at his partner.

"I was with Polygon before you and I met up in Four Hills." A faint stain of pink bloomed in her cheeks.

Skyhammer smiled. "And how is the King's Wizard these days?"

Higgins' eyes glazed over a little. "She's wonderful."

"What about that boy you met at the inn that morning? Conquered and moved on already?"

"He was a cutie, right?" She grinned then opened her Whorl and glanced at her Retrographs for a few seconds. "Yes, indeedy he was."

Skyhammer shrugged. "Can't say I noticed."

"Wasn't in the mood for male company that day." She closed her Whorl.

Higgins' dalliances, male or female, never lasted long. "The panels? How big are they?"

"Oh huge!" She threw her hands in an immense arc. "Twelve feet tall and ten feet wide, I think Polygon said."

Although the Moksha did seem to have a penchant for making large objects, Skyhammer decided he wouldn't be surprised if Polygon had overestimated the size in her excitement. Tracing imaginary lines across the sixth drawing, Skyhammer pondered for a minute before speaking. "Magic powers, anywhere in the world for any race." He stopped walking.

Higgins stopped too, a concerned look on her face.

His voice filled with wonder. "All humans have magic and can do it anywhere on the planet," he repeated, looking straight at Higgins. "No one without magic. Even those who now don't have magic will get some?" He was whispering, questioning, scared of daring to hope.

Higgins' smile spread across her face like sunrise. "Yes! There are no symbols of humans without magic powers in the last panel." She threw her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close for a brief hug. "You will have magic powers!"

She smelled like vanilla, delicious. When she released him, he felt disappointed. He still couldn't believe it. In thirty-five days, he would have magic powers. Disappointment about his failure to claim the glove was crowded out by a growing excitement. "But how can we be sure?"

"Polygon saw it in person."

"The King moved Floatilla?" The coordination it would take to move the whole floating city boggled his mind. But of course the Floatilla citizens would be happy to go, if it meant confirming their ability to do magic anywhere in the world.

"Well, he had to be sure. They nudged the edge of the Royal Circle just close enough that the half-mile buffer zone included the piece of wall. Polygon went down to confirm its authenticity."

"Why wouldn't the Byndari just move it somewhere more accessible than the bottom of the ocean?"

"They want to keep it in their country, I guess. They've never had their own Relic before." She shrugged.

"So if the wall landed on the ocean floor, how did Polygon get down to see it?" He imagined the King's Wizard transforming herself into a giant triangular fish with pointy teeth and bulbous eyes.

"Created a spherical shield and displaced the water. Easy spells for a Wizard. So?"

"So what?"

"Do you believe it?"

He opened his mouth to say yes, then closed it. He chose his words with care. "I believe, because this ceremony involves all the species instead of just one Relic and me, that there is a good chance I will get magic powers from the ceremony."

She snorted with laughter. "Good answer."

"This is it though."

"What?"

"My real last chance. If this ceremony doesn't work, then I will never get magic power. There hasn't been a whisper of any Relic that bestows magic besides the glove. The Byndari only found the wall because of the earthquake."

"We'll just have to make sure the ceremony is a success then," Higgins said, linking her arm through his. "Hey, what do you say to spending a night in Edgeton? We have to pass by it on our way to the coast and I could sure use a hot bath."

"A hot bath, eh? Or a hot night with the young buck that brings the bath water?" He smirked.

She shrugged. "See how I feel when I get there I suppose. Race you to the staircase?" She took off.

Buoyed by his new opportunity to gain magic powers, Skyhammer tightened his backpack's straps and ran after his partner, grinning like a kid who had magically replaced his dinner vegetables with cookies.

* * *

"The Apricot's Pit or the Boar Snout and Cheese?" Skyhammer inquired as they made their way between buildings to the main road of Edgeton, a supply outpost on the route to the uncharted territories.

The trek back from the valley had taken just over a week. Their first sighting of Edgeton brought the inevitable anticipation of a bed, hot water and a change in diet from roots and roasted jungle monkey.

Higgins opened her Retrograph Whorl and flicked through some images. "The Pit's got better beds and we deserve some comfort."

Skyhammer grinned. Trust Higgins to be familiar with the creature comforts of each inn in Edgeton. His expression darkened. Although magic didn't work out here beyond the Royal Circle, everyone in Edgeton knew what he was. At least in this remote village on the edge of the uncharted territories, residents knew of his Relic hunting prowess and respected that a little. He smiled. They respected him because he was handy with his sword and that was enough for him.

The Apricot's Pit was at the other end of town. They walked along the dirt road, off to the side to avoid the oxen and horse dung that was ground under the wheels of carts. The stench revolted him. Skyhammer couldn't imagine why anyone would choose to live in a dirty, stinking town. The residents clearly didn't see a link between visual and olfactory pride. In contrast to the smell, striking designs carved into the door and window frames of the buildings made each one appear to have a different animal face looking out over the main street. All created without paint, just using wood grain and carving techniques.

Each building had a veranda that faced the street, where men and women sat chatting, some heads blocked by their Whorls. Their voices fell silent, Retrographs closing, as he and Higgins approached. Eyes narrowed and lips curled with disgust. More than usual, he noted. Whorls and voices started again after they passed.

At the Pit, they went straight to the back of the bar, discarded apricot pits scrunching under their boots. The inn catered to humans and the bar was filled with chattering Relic hunters and locals. Patrons snacked from bowls full of freshly-picked apricots. By the time they reached the long wooden counter at the back, the bar had fallen silent. Although they disliked him, usually the locals just ignored him. Their silence was strange. Skyhammer couldn't wait to get to his room.

Higgins did the talking. "Two rooms, please, Speckle." She put on a charming smile.

"None available." Speckle, the proprietor, looked Higgins up and down appreciatively. Even after a few weeks in the jungle, her strawberry-blonde hair was free of bugs and leaves, her rosy face shone with health, and her green trousers, blue tunic and black boots were clean and unrumpled.

Skyhammer watched Speckle admiring Higgins, then looked at himself in the mirror behind the bar. Perhaps it wasn't his lack of magic powers that scared off the ladies. Higgins, with a change of clothes, could be accepted in the presence of royalty. He on the other hand . . . Skyhammer picked a leaf out of his mop of brown hair and scratched his bristly jaw. Looking down, he noticed sweat stains and dirt caked into his long-sleeved black shirt and black, pocket-covered trousers. He looked up. Higgins was watching him in the glass. He gave her a rueful grin.

Higgins threw her most appealing smile at the proprietor. "Speckle, we got cash."

Speckle shook his head. "Try somewhere else." He shot a dark look at Skyhammer and moved down the bar.

Skyhammer turned and marched toward the door. Speckle too? He and Higgins had stayed at the Pit plenty of times. Speckle had always bought him drinks in return for tales about his Relic-hunting adventures. He'd even dared to think that Speckle might be a friend. But now . . . he glared at the orange door. I didn't choose to be born without magic powers, he raged.

Angry mutters trailed him through the bar.

"If Skyhammer'd done his job we wouldn't be in this fix!" a voice shouted out behind him. The room got so silent Skyhammer could hear the mice rustling amongst the apricot pits.

Skyhammer stopped. Turned around. A thin man stood behind him, a beer in one hand, the other propping him up on a table surrounded by his drinking cronies.

"I've just been out Relic hunting. That
is
my Moksha-damned job."

The drunkard snorted. "Guess it depends on whether you're a Relic hunter or the Keeper of the Retrograph Vault, Skyhammer. You're a good Relic hunter but a shite Keeper. And now look what's happened."

Murmurs of agreement floated up around Skyhammer.

"What are you talking about?" He looked around, puzzled.

The man rolled his eyes. "Guess you been out of town for a bit." He swayed closer to Skyhammer.

The crowd watched in silence.

"Someone's altered the King's Retrographs. Someone got into our Vault and changed a Retrograph. The King's! Makes you even more useless, I'd say. Didn't think it was possible. Nasuchu take you." He shook a knobbly finger in Skyhammer's face then fell back into his chair.

Skyhammer's mind whirled. Impossible! No human could tamper with Moksha Relics and the Retrographs were definitely Relics. Recalling where he was, he glanced around the room at faces filled with hate and disgust. Except one, of course.

Higgins strode past Skyhammer, whispering, "He's drunk. Retrographs changed? Give me a break. You don't need to listen to them." She held open the door, stepped outside, then let it slam shut behind her when she saw Skyhammer wasn't following.

"You realize, Keeper," the man spat the title onto the filthy floor, "that this puts us in a pretty pickle."

Skyhammer stared at him, frozen.

The man spoke as though to a very young and stupid child. "You see, there's a powerful magician somewhere out there. The most powerful magician in the world, since he or she can perform magic on a Relic of the Moksha. Now . . ." The man looked around at the silent bar, relishing the attention. "Listen up, Keeper. On one hand, we got this powerful magician changing a Retrograph. Altering a Relic of the Moksha. Possibly changing others. Possibly destroying Retrographs."

There was a collective gasp.

"Who knows what this Sorcerer can do? Plans to do? Lucky for us, we have a protector." The man's face twisted with disgust. "Skyhammer! Keeper of the Retrograph Vault! Who ran away to hunt Relics, leaving the Vault unprotected." His voice rose. "Who does not have any magic powers to fight back against this Retrograph Sorcerer!
This
is the person we retain to protect our Retrographs from the world's most powerful magician!" The man slapped his hand on the table. Spittle had collected at one corner of his mouth.

The door opened.

Skyhammer and all the faces in the bar swivelled to look.

Higgins stuck her head inside. "Are you coming or what?" She glanced around the silent room, then at Skyhammer's bewildered face, and frowned, eyes narrowing.

Skyhammer forced his legs to move. Someone had changed the one of the King's Retrographs? No species' magic was powerful enough to affect a Relic; that was one of the few certainties of life. If so, what other Relics could this Sorcerer affect? He opened the door and escaped the hateful and repressive air inside the bar.

On a bench outside, he collapsed beside Higgins, dazed.

"What was that all about?" she asked. "You can't actually believe-" She saw his face and stopped talking.

As they both opened their Whorls, he told her what the man had said.

Were any of
his
Retrographs changed? He flicked through them. Yes. His eyes widened.

Chapter 5

Countdown to ceremony: 28 days

A knot twisted his gut. Their fear and hatred he understood; he felt the same. The thought of someone looking at one of his own Retrographs - he felt sick. A person, probably human since only humans had Retrographs, could see every minute of his life, every time he was bullied, every moment with Spark, every time he failed, the day even his mother rejected him forever. All the embarrassing or intimate moments captured by Retrographs were on view. He shivered. It was as if someone had run their hands over his naked body as he slept, a stranger touching what wasn't theirs.