The Guardian's Apprentice (Beyond the Veil) (24 page)

As he finished the charm, Keegan’s features relaxed and his eyes turned glassy.
 
Easing the boy into the chair by the fire, Acamar instructed him in low even tones.

“You will fall asleep here by the fire and awaken refreshed.
 
Nothing shall seem out of the ordinary and you will not think of it any longer.”

There
, thought the wizard.
 
The charm should hold until I release it.
 
“Or at least until my death if anyone finds out,” he murmured to himself.
 
He sighed as he sat down on the hearth and looked at Keegan with sad, tired eyes.
 
“You’ve got to bring about an end to all of this.
 
Not just for you but for us all.”
 

The clock in the corner chimed the top of the hour and Acamar shuddered as he slipped back into his feline form as his hour of freedom was exhausted.
 
He thought he might as well wait until morning to see Master Whitestone; difficult discussions are best saved for the daylight.
 
Curling up into a furry black ball next to the fire, he covered his nose with his tail and went to sleep.

###

Keegan woke with a start the next morning, sitting bolt upright in the chair by the fireplace where he had apparently fallen asleep.
 
He looked around sleepily, but Acamar was nowhere to be found.
 
The fire was still burning brightly in the fireplace, filling the room with warmth and a cheerful glow.
 
Keegan thought this was a bit odd since no one ever seemed to add fuel to the fire yet it never died down or burned less brightly.
 
Looking around he saw the scrying sphere lying on the rug where he had dropped it last night.
 
Funny, but he could not seem to remember why he had dropped it in the first place.
 
His scrying session had gone well, or at least so he remembered.
 
He had conjured the vision from the library and Acamar had even complimented him on his accuracy.
 
Something was not quite right though, but for the life of him he could not think of just what that something was.
 

“Ah, you’re awake,” came a voice from near the door that caused Keegan to jump straight out of the chair.
 
Ever since attempts on his life had become somewhat of a local sport his nerves had become more and more frayed.
 
Steadying himself on the chair as he turned, Keegan saw Acamar the cat sitting by the door with his tail curled around his paws.

“Don’t you ever knock?” snapped Keegan, who felt like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Acamar just laid his ears flat.
 
“I have paws – what do you think?”

“Oh, sorry,” Keegan replied sheepishly.

“In spite of what you may think there are some rather big disadvantages to this form.
 
The lack of opposable thumbs would be one and having to lick oneself clean would be the other,” the cat said flatly.

Keegan sat down again and yawned.
 
“So did you have a reason for coming by this morning or was it just time for another lecture?”

“It’s time for your next and final task; you’re to be examined on your scrying ability within the hour.”

“Already?”

“Your grandfather thought it best if things were moved along somewhat; he saw no reason to delay your final test,” said Acamar, examining one paw with detached interest.
 
It will also bring you under your grandfather’s direct protection a lot faster, since you will finally become his apprentice,
he thought.
 
The Council is not going to know what hit them after last night’s little revelation.
 

“Come on.
 
Best not to keep the Council waiting once it is assembled.
 
They say that even Cedric will be there for this last test.”

Keegan stood up and smoothed down his robes.
 
He hadn’t shaved in two days and
really
needed to brush his teeth, but that could all wait.
 
He grabbed his staff and headed off down the hall behind the black cat.

The Council chamber was brightly lit as always, but this time it was different – this time all of the chairs around the table were filled, even Cedric’s.
 
The head of the Black order sat hunched in his chair lost in thought, fingers steepled in front of his nose and the dim light glinting off the silver skullcap he wore on his bald head.
 
Alyssa Alcor sat in the chair reserved for the head of the White order, filling in for Phineas as long as he remained the Guardian.
 
Alexander Ducat sat in his chair as the head of the Grey order, but Keegan thought he looked different somehow.
 
He looked older and more tired Keegan thought, and if he didn’t know better he could swear that the wizard’s robes were darker.

“Ah, Keegan,” said Alexander in what Keegan thought was a somewhat strained voice.
 
“Welcome to your final test.”
 

The wizard gestured to a chair that had been provided, motioning for him to sit and await his instructions.
 
Acamar sat near Keegan’s feet and was staring intently at the grey wizard.

“Now then, young Master Whitestone,” smiled Ducat.
 
“Let us begin your final task.”

Suddenly the chamber was filled with an enormous crackling sound.
 
Arcs of blue-white energy erupted as a powerful portal snapped open.
 
Although a good ten feet away the energy made the hair on Keegan’s arms stand straight up.
 
Half of the wizards around the table had grabbed their wands, staffs or other magical talisman; then, just as suddenly, the portal snapped shut and extinguished itself.
 
Standing where the portal had been was the Guardian, staff in hand.
 
Stunned by this sudden display of raw power, Ducat was (for the moment) speechless.

“
Surely
you weren’t about to begin without me?” asked Phineas, glaring through his bushy eyebrows at Alexander.

“N-No, of course not!” stammered the grey wizard defensively.
 

Keegan saw the fear in Ducat’s eyes, but there was something else there as well.
 
For just a moment, there was the faintest flicker of pure hatred that passed across the Grey wizard’s face.
 
Keegan was shocked to see such a reaction; Ducat had been one of this grandfather’s oldest friends.

Phineas gathered his robes, sat down in his appointed chair and continued boring holes through Ducat as if he were a cockroach to be stepped upon.
 
The sense of fury boiling just beneath the surface of Phineas’ normally calm exterior was almost palpable, puzzling the other Council members.
 
What could Ducat have done to enrage the Guardian?
 
Starting without him was certainly a snub, but should not provoke this kind of outrage.

Ducat’s nerves recovered somewhat, though he was still mindful of Phineas’ smoldering temper.
 
“Now then,” he smiled at Keegan, “where were we?”

“We were about to start the third trial,” Keegan said.
 
He was just as puzzled as the rest of the Council.
 
He had never seen his grandfather so angry before.
 
Yet at the fringe of his memory, there was a nagging sensation that he should know what the problem was.
 
It was like seeing a shadow out of the corner of your eye only to lose the image when you tried to look straight at it.

“Ah, yes.
 
This one should be relatively simple compared to the last ones.
 
This one will involve scrying and your ability to conjure visions of the past, present or future,” said Ducat in an all too friendly voice.
 
Keegan thought the voice reminded him of the witch who promised Hansel and Gretel a lovely little afternoon snack right before she popped them into a pot of boiling water.

Ducat handed him an oversized crystal orb.
 

“This is larger than your normal scrying sphere,” he said.
 
“It is designed to take us all into the vision with you; normally with an average sized sphere you could only take two, maybe three of us at best.”

Keegan accepted the orb from the wizard and hesitated for a moment.
 
Was it his imagination or were Ducat’s robes getting darker?
 
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Keegan looked deeply into the sphere.

“What you show us will be up to you, Keegan.
 
However, I would suggest to you that something from the recent past would likely be the simplest.
 
If you try to delve too far into the past, especially since you spent most of your life in the mortal world, you could overtax your senses.”

Keegan ignored Ducat, focusing instead on the orb in front of him.
 
He could feel himself drawn like a magnet inward towards the center of the sphere.
 
He wasn’t choosing a vision – it was choosing him, whether he liked it or not.
 
The room around him shimmered and shifted, and was gradually replaced with a scene he had witnessed before.
 
He was in the library again and as before, it was prior to his arrival for the first challenge.
 
Keegan was barely aware of a shuffling sound near him as he focused on the scene – he felt drawn to it, as if it was trying desperately to show him something he had forgotten.

Slowly he was aware of the other Council members on either side of, behind and above him as they joined in his vision.
 
He could even sense Acamar at his feet, though Keegan’s thoughts were pulled towards the center of the room.
 
Again he saw Nemwith, the little gnome librarian working with stacks of books lying scattered around the aisle.
 
As before, he saw the little gnome look up as someone entered the aisle where he was working.
 
Nemwith was nodding his head, apparently talking with someone.
 
Keegan focused on the little man, willing the scene to zoom in.
 
The vision shook slightly and blurred a little, but did not change perspective.
 
It was as if something was anchoring Keegan in place, not wanting him to venture any closer to the scene at hand.
 
Keegan looked down at Acamar and saw the cat make an odd motion with his paw and then nod at Keegan.
 
Suddenly something snapped and Keegan remembered what had happened the night before.
 
A flood of anger swept over him and he channeled this newfound energy into his vision, focusing on the image he knew was there.
 
Although there was resistance at first, it shattered before the onslaught of Keegan’s raw emotions and the vision zoomed inward so quickly that it made Keegan’s head swim for a moment.
 
The figure from before was there again, only this time the cloaking spell wasn’t as perfect; the shadowy outline was more distinct and the voice could be heard.
 
Keegan was aware of the Council members around him muttering to each other.
 
It was obvious that they saw the image too, but they could no more make it out than he could.
 
Keegan was furious – the figure was there but just beyond his grasp.
 
Focusing his anger, he channeled it into his ring.
 

Help me, Nek’kar!
 
I need you!
 
Bolster my strength, let me reveal the truth!
 

Pointing his ring towards the shadowy figure Keegan could swear he saw it flinch as if stung.
 
Suddenly a bright pulse of energy shot forth from the gemstone in Keegan’s ring, bathing the vision in a flash of golden light.
 
As the pulse intersected the figure, it writhed in agony and let off a scream as the vision froze.
 
Everything in the vision become still and, like snapshot developing before their eyes, the image came into focus.
 
The image of Ducat handing over a bottle of nettle wine to Nemwith was as clear as day to Keegan and the surrounding Council members.
 
Although the image had frozen, the echoes of Ducat’s voice continued as he forced the little gnome to do his bidding.

“
STOP!
 
ENOUGH!”
screamed Ducat.

The vision shattered and dissipated, returning all of them to the Council chambers where they had started, only Ducat was standing now, pale faced and shaking at the end of the table.
 
Phineas was standing too, staff crackling with power and anger flashing in his eyes.
 
Acamar shifted to his human form and stood protectively in front of Keegan, hand clasped over his red pendant.

“It’s a trick!
 
The boy is lying, don’t you see?” snapped Ducat angrily, as he backed away from the Council table.
 
He pointed accusingly at Phineas.
 
“
He
put him up to this to discredit me!”