The Baldari (Book 3) (23 page)

From atop the same hillside where the invaders had arrived earlier in the day, Daim stared at the still burning wreckage of what used to be the prosperous port city of Roin.  He shook his head unhappily.  This was the result of magic used in the worst way.  It was the reason those without the gift had turned against magic and those who practiced it so often in the past.  He had hoped to never see such a sight.  In his own time, it would have been unthinkable.  But now, such abuses were clearly upon them, and unless a means of finding and bringing those responsible under control was found, there would be more places like Roin.  He shuddered to think of how many. 

“The Three Kingdoms are no longer safe,” someone said off to his side.

Daim said nothing.  It hadn’t been safe since this began.  He wondered why it had taken as long as it had for the madness to reach here.

“Why Roin?” Jeen asked thoughtfully.  “This is the third time the Baldari have attempted an attack on the port city.  This time it appears they finally accomplished their goal.”

“Which was what?” Ash’urn broke in.  “Do we have any idea what was so important for them.  It seems to me that the only thing achieved here was wanton destruction and killing.  They lost a number of their warriors, and succeeded in burning the city to the ground, but little else.”

Daim shifted uncomfortably.  “I wonder,” he said slowly.  “In my time there were tales of a time lost to history.  It was said that the most powerful of the gifted in those ancient times had a mighty fortress on the southwestern shores of the Great Sea.  Searches were made, of course, but nothing was ever found.  Roin would qualify as such a place.  Could there have once been such a fortress here?  Are the Baldari seeking something that has long been lost?”

“What are you trying to say?” Ash’urn asked.  “That the Baldari have some knowledge of the distant past?”

“Probably not the Baldari.  It is more likely those who are behind them.  I have thought about the magic we are seeing.  Where did it come from and where have these people been to suddenly appear and begin to cause such destruction?”

“You believe they have somehow come from the distant past?” Jeen asked, seeing where Daim was heading.

“The chamber that Mitty describes must have some special purpose.  The people are in it to protect them from something.  Maybe they are awakening from a special means they used to preserve themselves from a time long ago, possibly before the Ruins existed.”

“How could that be?” Jeen said.

Daim shrugged.  “I found a way to preserve myself, at least my thoughts and memories and send them across thousands of years.  If the magic was so much more advanced in those distant times, perhaps some knew of a means to accomplish such a feat.”

“What would their purpose be?” Ash’urn asked.

“Perhaps to finish a war that had been started back then.  Maybe the woman in Mitty’s visions is one of those who fought the war that caused the Ruins, and is still searching to be certain none related to her enemies survived.”

“If what you fear is true, they might be impossible to stop,” Jeen said.  “Our abilities with magic may be childish for them.”

Daim nodded.  “At the moment it appears whoever drives the Baldari is forced to function through others.  They use the Baldari as fighters, and now Casters and wizards to perform what magic they can.  That suggests a limitation in their ability.  Mitty claims the woman appears trapped, and the others are still inactive.  We might have a chance if we can locate this woman and deal with her before she frees herself, or is able to awaken the others to assist her.”

“If that happens?” Jeen asked.

“If that happens, I fear all is lost,” Daim said wearily. 

“Mitty claims one of the pods is vacant,” Ash’urn reminded him.

“Perhaps that is the person behind this,” Daim agreed.  “Let us hope that is the case.  If the abilities once freed are no greater than we have seen, then we have hope.”

Daim looked around at the small group of wizards who stood with him.  “Rigo is still in Sedfair with Mitty?” he asked.

Ash’urn, who had come from there just the previous evening nodded.  “I talked with him just the other day.  Do you wish him to come here?”

“I want him informed.  Before long, we need to bring everyone together and consider how to proceed.  Nycoh too.  I haven’t seen her for a few days.  Is she in Sedfair as well?”

Ash’urn shook his head.  “I stayed at her home while I was there.  She was not around.  I had assumed she was here.”

“See if someone can find her.  She is important to our discussions.  We also must try and understand how she had gained her recent powers and whether the ability can be passed.  I also hope she soon finds a way to duplicate the protective barrier we have seen that rebel Caster display.”

“I’d guess she is at the Repository,” Ash’urn said.  “She expressed her hopes for the place to me after her own look at the place.  I’ll check.”

“I’ll go and see Rigo,” Jeen said.  “Queen Mos’pera wishes to speak with Mitty anyway.”

Daim nodded and stepped forward so he could better survey the city below.  The death tolls had been less than they might have been.  With the delay in alerting the Outpost to the attack, the Baldari and the puppet Casters had been free to do as they wished.  Fortunately their intent had not been to kill as many as possible, and while the city would be a total loss, most of the inhabitants would survive.  The death toll was not small, but more had been wounded than killed.  The injured were being relocated to other villages by Outpost wizards where they would be treated.

“They captured almost a dozen of our people,” Daim said softly.  “I would expect we will see them again serving the force that controls our enemies.”

“Perhaps that was the motivation for the attack?” someone suggested.

“There are other places wizards could be found,” Daim said.  “They were taken because they were here.  I’m certain it was clearly one of the goals, but a secondary one.”

“One thing is certain,” Ash’urn said.  “If they had any restrictions making a
Bypass
to locations in the Three Kingdoms, something we have wondered about, having a force of our wizards under their control will remove that limitation. They will be able to use our people to take them wherever they wish to go.  Nowhere will be safe.”

“The Outpost,” Jeen said suddenly, thinking of the attacks in Nals at the Guild.

“That too,” Daim agreed.  He had already considered the possibility.  “The Outpost will be a tough one for them to take, unless they can open their
Bypass
inside the facility.  Thus far, it has seemed the captured Casters, and we’ll have to hope the same holds for wizards, have been unable to create a
Bypass
into one of the areas where they have been blocked.  If they have to approach from the outside, we outnumber them, and the very stone of the mountains was strengthened by the strongest magic known in my time.  Whether that will be enough to make the walls strong enough to resist some of the magic being leveled against us remains to be seen.”

“We need something to use against them,” Ash’urn noted.

“That means we need to discover where they are located for one thing,” Daim said.  “Given they appear to be trapped in place, we might be able to use that against them.  Hopefully Burke or the Sedfair team will have better luck soon.  The only other hope I see at the moment is something in the repository that can help us resist the attacks.”

“You are not afraid that the enemy will simply capture Burke and his team if they get too close?” Jeen asked.

“We must inform them of what has happened here,” Daim agreed.  “They need to be alert to the possibility, but what choice do we have?  We cannot simply sit back and hope the problem goes away.  Burke and his team are at grave risk, but it is a risk that must be borne.”

The mountains up in the north where she sat were surprisingly beautiful.  It wasn’t often Nycoh took the time to enjoy such things, but today she found the tall, closely spaced trees that bordered the small lake where she had stopped for her private contemplation particularly inviting.  The sky was a light clear blue, without a single cloud, and just the faintest breeze worked its way between the trees to carry the fresh scent of the wild flowers that grew in the small patches of grass where the trees failed to block the sunlight.  There was barely a ripple in the mirrored surface of the lake, and by now even the birds had become comfortable with her presence.  Instead of screeching warnings, they had settled down to gentle chirping as she leaned back and contemplated the tall mountains in the distance. 

Rigo had spent his teen years not too far from where she was.  That’s how she had first found this spot.  She’d been visiting his village, to see where he had grown up to try and learn more about his background.  That had been years ago, but she recalled he had told her about his escape over the mountains, and she had used her magic to explore the distant mountains.  One of the spots was this one.  It was especially difficult to reach without using a
Bypass
, and hence had seldom been disturbed by others.  Several times she had come here to be alone.  After the past couple of days, she had felt the need for solitude.

She was disappointed in the Repository.  An extremely fast reader, she had gone through the complete training scroll.  The information there was useful, and the facility would allow them to finally understand some of the materials that had sat unread in the library at the Outpost for as long as she had been there.  Unfortunately, nothing told her how the protective barriers that held the scrolls so tantalizingly close yet unreachable were to be overcome.  She knew she couldn’t do it, and that probably meant none of them could.  A fundamental key was missing, and without that, they were as helpless there as any Normal.  When she returned, she’d begin the process of randomly working through the unorganized texts they had.  Maybe there would be something of use, but it was an arduous approach when the situation screamed for immediate solutions.

She sighed and let her eyes fall on a nest of birds located in the branches of a tree at the water’s edge.  When she looked away, her eyes fell upon her staff.  Black as night, the treated wood was resistant to anything but the most intense magic.  The symbols that were formed into the surface were small and almost impossible to see.  That didn’t matter.  What mattered was that the symbols were there, and precisely laid out, winding around the shaft and interlocking in precise patterns.  The Casters and their staffs were so far from understanding what symbolic magic was about that she sometimes wondered that their spells functioned at all.  Of course, that might be said of the wizards at the Outpost that used inherent magic.  Their understanding of magic was restricted as well.  Both disciplines were a part of a much greater whole, and to be a true mage, one must master both.  She knew this to be true, but not how she knew it.  She also was fully aware she fell far short of having mastered either discipline.

This was the sixth staff she had made in as many months.  Almost as soon as she had become used to what she had crafted, alternate and more effective variations came to mind.  She was growing somehow, and with the growth came an awareness that had eluded her previously.  Clearly she was an anomaly.  She was able to do things she shouldn’t by rights be able to do.  Many of the feats she had demonstrated were spur of the moment, called as needed and without understanding.  The lack of understanding is what bothered her the most.  Somehow she understood that she should be able to do even more, if she could simply cross the elusive threshold that felt just out of view.

Her fighting spells were stronger than those of any other wizards.  Stronger than they realized.  Her
Brightfire
now exceeded what even Jeen could perform when
Linked
.  She hadn’t demonstrated this, but knew it to be true.  Even given the power she commanded, it wasn’t sufficient.  The shields she had witnessed would turn aside her best efforts.  Her own shields were pitiful in comparison.  She could turn aside the magic she had seen, but not block it.  She was convinced there was magic out there that would thwart her best attempts and bring her down easily.  Unfortunately, she could see no way to learn what was required.  Abilities came to her or didn’t, but she had no systematic approach to growing.

Even the demonstrated advancement of her abilities was starting to cause resentment among the other wizards.  They didn’t understand why she was able to do what they could not.  Part was the simple fact they hadn’t invested the effort required to build the dual foundation in inherent and symbolic magic.  But she knew it was more than that.  Even Lyes felt she was holding back, wanting to be the strongest.  He was a mage just as she was.  He wanted her to explain why she could do things that he could not.  It was one reason for the friction between them.

At first interacting with Lyes had been exhilarating.  Nycoh had never experienced the kind of feelings she had felt when she was with Lyes.  She’d had close friends, who were important to her more than anything else, but it had never been like that.  They had been thrown together often as the fight against Carif had progressed.  Their unique dual talents made them obvious collaborators.  Lyes had been the first to show Nycoh the secrets of symbolic magic.  When he had been activated, she had helped with his inherent magic, but that had been a more automatic and natural development.  As they both grew in the other’s discipline, they shared skills and challenged one another’s strength.  Early on it became apparent that Nycoh could duplicate anything that Lyes could do.  At first, Lyes was able to mirror her abilities, if not as strongly.

What had started as a friendship changed and became something more intimate and eventually physical.  Lyes had been her first, and thus far, only experience along those lines.  Nycoh had been overjoyed at the relationship.  It had opened her eyes to a part of life she hadn’t really thought about.  She had seen how Rigo had changed with his discovery of Mitty, coming out of the shell he’d built around himself for so many years.  She had hoped that she and Lyes might be the same.  Unfortunately, somewhere along the way, she had begun to change.  She developed new skills, skills that Lyes couldn’t duplicate and which she couldn’t pass or explain to him.  She didn’t know how she managed some of what she was now able to do. It was like inherent magic that was easily transferred, and showing him the symbols involved, which for some reason didn’t require an activation phrase, didn’t help.  He became frustrated.  Sometimes they argued.  After one particularly intense disagreement, they had split. 

Now he was with someone else.  She wasn’t certain how she felt about that.  Part of her was jealous, and part was happy she didn’t have to defend herself to him.  It would have been easier if circumstances didn’t keep throwing them together.  At the Repository she had sensed that Lyes might be interested in reconciliation.  With images plaguing her thoughts of Lyes and Nori together, she wasn’t sure what she wanted.

It would be easier to think about it, if it weren’t for the other matter.  That was as much to blame for her own developing aloofness as was the troublesome relationship with Lyes.  She was surprised that her friends hadn’t noted the change and asked about it.  Perhaps they had noticed, but attributed the problem to her breakup with Lyes.  She knew that Jeen was aware of the rift.

Nycoh reached into a slot in her shirt to a secret pocket inside.  She had borrowed that design from Daria, who had perfected the means of concealment.  Her fingers found the small, carved bone container and carefully she withdrew it.  She opened it, setting the lid aside and stared at the two long hairs coiled up inside.  Hers.  Both pulled out some weeks before.

Gently she found the end of one of the hairs and lifted it out of the container, watching as it unwound and bounced slightly in the light mountain breeze. In the bright morning light she could see that it was not black as it should be.  The faint purple color was readily apparent.  Thus far she had found only the two hairs, but she was certain there would be more.  The implications were obvious, and frightening.

If it hadn’t been for Mitty and her visions, the discovery would have been intriguing.  Nycoh would have examined the oddly colored hairs, and actively sought anything that suggested someone else might have had such color in the past.  But now she knew there was someone else with this exact color hair.  Someone who was almost certainly the greatest enemy the Three Kingdoms had encountered in recorded memory.  Was she like the woman in Mitty’s visions?  Was she related to her in some way?  Nycoh wondered if the powers she was starting to exhibit were tied in any way to the sudden appearance of the hairs.  She had been unable to recall when the new abilities had first shown themselves and how that might relate to the appearance of the purple hairs. 

She was also greatly concerned what the others might think.  Would they start to fear her, or start to distrust her?  More importantly, would they be right to do so?  Nycoh wondered what she would do if her hair were to suddenly start to change and the purple color became apparent to all.  While she didn’t believe that one’s heritage determined one’s alliances, she felt a deep uncertainty inside herself.  More than anything she feared that the strange woman might be able to influence her in some way should she learn of her existence. 

It was important to find some answers.  That was what had brought her to this lonely spot so far from home.  She wanted to approach Ash’urn.  He’d been father, brother, friend, fellow researcher, and more, over the years.  He would approach the problem with curiosity and interest, and she hoped with secrecy.  If there was anyone she could trust, she believed it would be him.  She had decided that she would reveal the secret to him upon her return.  At least, she thought she had. 

There was more she could discuss with Ash’urn.   They both knew that the Three Kingdoms, and Sedfair for that matter, were in grave danger.  Nycoh was convinced that Queen Mos’pera knew this, and had seen visions that she had felt unwise to reveal.  Twice Nycoh had raised questions to the Queen, and had seen the fear deep in her eyes.  She is afraid that many of her friends will die before this is over, and she needs to find a way to help.  The best way would be to spread knowledge of her newly found abilities.  Maybe Ash’urn could help with that.  Finally, there is something about the power crystals.  There is more to the crystals than the Casters realize.  The Baldari, which really means the purple haired woman that Mitty claims is behind their attacks, seeks them.  Yet from the descriptions of the chamber that Nycoh and others have had Mitty recount in great detail, suggest a staff much like her own is present next to each of the individuals in the chamber.  No one else has commented on that, but like her own, there is no power crystal involved.  That makes her wonder what is important about the power crystals.

She realized she was still holding the hair, and carefully wound it into a loop that she placed back into the small bone container.  Uncertainly, she stood up.  Her decision to speak with Ash’urn felt like the right one, but she sensed the nervousness in the pit of her stomach.  He was supposed to be at the Outpost today.  She had best go now, before she had a chance to reconsider.