To Be Chosen (12 page)

Daniel summoned the potential for, How Do You Feel? and placed his hand on her forehead. He closed his eyes and allowed his life force energy to flow into Cleona. All of her organs were fatigued, over worked, and struggling to keep functioning. Deeper in he began to see the problem, lethal growths. They were intertwined with her intestines and more lethal growths were actually within the sausage like organ. More lethal growths were on her womb and another strain of lethal growths was within that organ as well. This was a foe of a different sort. He cut off the potential and sat back in his chair.

“I can see by the horror in your face that you understand the problem. The Teki Seer, the one who told you I would be dead within a year, concurs with Fenton Chen’s assessment of how much time I have remaining,” Cleona said, sadly, yet in the manner of one who has come to accept the inevitable.

Daniel shook his head, no. There had to be a solution. “He must be using the rejuvenation spell on you, otherwise there is no way you could be so energetic.”

Cleona nodded her head. “I take it yo
u are familiar with the spell.”

“Sherree Jenna, one of the three Talenteds who escorted me to Aakadon, used the spell to keep me functional. Any time I fell asleep, the Dark Maestro haunted my dreams so I stayed a wake most of the time. It was her spell that made me able to keep my wits about me long enough to accomplish what I had to do,” Daniel explained.

“I remember her. She also helped in the defense of Bashierwood and is now an Accomplished of the Aloe Guild,” the Queen told him.

“That’s her,” Daniel said quickly, not wanting to be distracted by thoughts of the beautiful Lobenian, and choosing to push on with the matter at hand. “Every healing I have performed has been by touch. I must have physical contact with the injured area. To destroy every growth would require me to practically butcher you to get to them, disintegrate the corruptions, and then heal the surrounding area. The problem is, fast as I am, you would be dead before I could get even part of the way through the healing process.”

Cleona nodded her head as if it was not the first time she had heard the assessment. “Your skills truly do rival those of an Aloe Guild Practitioner. Fenton Chen told me much the same thing; that I would need to go to Aakadon and a team of Accomplisheds would have to cut me open. He assured me there was no surgical team that could work fast enough to keep me from dying on the table. If I had come to him years ago, perhaps they could have helped me. But I just could not bring myself to allow an Aakacarn to touch me so it was years before I permitted Fenton to assess my health, by then the damage was done and my death inevitable.”

Daniel shook his head, not in denial of the problem, but in determination not to give up on saving the Queen. “I will find a way to heal you. There are details I will have to figure out first, but I will find a way. You made me a Royal Knight of the Realm and it is my duty to defend my Queen from any foe assaulting her.”

Queen Cleona of house Ducalin started laughing, hard, and slapped the table when she was finished. Wiping her eyes and said, “Your enthusiasm is contagious, even though the battlefield is within my body, I do believe you might succeed.”

“I will give it my best try,” Daniel replied, and meant it.

Tarin Conn had told Daniel composing a new Melody was not always easy. Some inspirations would come practically whole into his head while others took a long time to get just right, to know in his heart the notes were arranged in such a way as to accomplish the intended task. It was hard to imagine a spell that could perform all the functions necessary to heal the Queen. Somehow he would have to control her bodily functions simultaneously with the healing, something he had never before thought of let alone attempted.

He did have one spell that could be of help “If you will permit me, I can give you a l
ittle strength to carry on.”

She leaned forward, almost eagerly. “Permission granted,” S
he replied and closed her eyes.

Daniel summoned the potential for, Vitality, and touched her forehead. The topaz hue of his life force energy flowed into the Queen and her eyes popped open. He ceased the potential and sat back, assessing the effects. Her skin had a healthy flush rather than being sickly pale, her eyes were clear with no sign of red or weariness
, and even her hair was darker.

“I feel wonderful, that was amazing, far better than any spell Fenton ever used,” the Queen told him while looking at her hands flushed with health.

“It was something I composed during my alone time in the forest. It might be better if you behave like you have no idea why your health has improved,” Daniel replied, and then added, “I did not cure you. The lethal growths are still there, I’ve only given a boost of energy to your system, which is causing you to feel better, but it is only temporary.”

He had done the same for Sprinter on many occasions, but decided she did not need to know he never tried it out on a human. She might not appreciate being a test subject. He had given her as much as he would the stallion, so she likely did have the vitality of a horse.

“I know the affects of the spell are not permanent so I will not over tax myself,” the Queen replied, and then stood up. “This meeting has been fruitful for both of us, may all of our future meetings be so. Go, enjoy the festivities, and take ten days to visit your estate, for soon you will be immersed in fulfilling the duties of a Royal Knight of the Realm.”

Daniel bowed to her and went out to speak with his account keeper and the man who would be hiring guards to be the Captain of.  The pair of Teki were eager to visit the estate but just as eager to visit the troops arriving for the Great Carnival, he had no idea if they would continue with him or not, wandering Teki being wandering Teki, but he had property to explore and tenant farmers to meet, so he pressed on with anyone who wa
nted to come along for the ride.

Serin Gell sat on a marble bench that at least had a thin cushion and was long enough for him to stretch out and sleep on. He stared at the iron door of the holding cell, which had a ceiling seven cubits from the floor and was ten paces wide and ten deep. To his right, against the wall, a sink and privy were provided, although he could not use the spell that would allow him to draw water up through the pipes, he had to notify his cell keeper to do that, how humiliating. A Three-bolt Accomplished unable to do what any first level Talented could, and without much thought. To his left, protruding exactly one pace from the wall was a granite shelf, meant to serve as a table.

His black silk cloak and matching pants and shirt had been stripped from him and replaced by a white silk robe. The apparel he once proudly wore was that of the Serpent Guild, not even the ignorant upstart who had captured him had deprived him of those. He hated Daniel Benhannon with a passion he could barely form into words, for defeating Maestro Balen Tamm, and splintering the guild. Most of all he hated the young spell caster for capturing and bringing him to Aakadon. The shield on his potential, placed on him by Benhannon, was what kept him captive beneath the Eagle Guild. Even if he could project his three lightning bolts of potential through the shield, the Melody to teleport was beyond his capability, requiring six bolts of life force energy to summon, but he had several spells in his repertoire that would enable him to tunnel out. If he still had his baton, the type one level three crescendo would be just enough to set him free of imprisonment, but would also leave him dangerously dehydrated, a risk every spell caster takes when summoning high amoun
ts of potential.

He sat holding the energy, a small amount, not enough to cause him to be beaten, just enough to remind him the power was still there, and yet frustrating him with thoughts of what he could do if set free. He had no idea how strong the shield was, having been unconscious at the time. Daniel commanded twelve bolts of potential, although it was doubtful the young man would use so much life force energy to shield
off a Three-bolt Accomplished.

Serin tried not to see the blue glow that flared brighter every time he summoned potential. The illumination served to remind him of his double failure, in being captured and then failing to escape. Part of the blame could be laid at the feet of Balen Tamm for failing to give enough information about the young Ducaunan Aakacarn. Serin had captured the boy as instructed. Well, he had to admit, not exactly as instructed. It would have been better had he not lost at the Battle of Bashierwood. Still, he did eventually bring Daniel Benhannon to the headquarters of the Serpent Guild. Serin refused to take full responsibility for what had happened next, Balen Tamm dead, the headquarters in ruins, and him being floated off to Aakadon. The Maestro should have told him his opponent was a full Accomplished and possessed six bolts of potential, and then extra precautions could have been taken.

His captors were not gentle, although mild by Serpent Guild standards. Even so, they had been successful in getting answers out of him. The interrogation spell they used could not be circumvented and made lying impossible. Fortunately, they needed to know the right questions to get the correct responses, and he had volunteered nothing, having responded to their exact words. He managed to keep quite a lot from them, but the sessions came daily, and he could never be sure when they would start asking the right questions. Time was on their side, especially with the more experienced Jeremiah Lassiter doing the interrogating.

The unadorned walls of his cell had a bluish tint, again reminding him of the shield, if any reminder had been necessary. The room had no windows and the only illumination came from him. To a commoner the room would be dark as pitch but Serin cared little how non-Aakacarns saw things. He swung his legs up, stretched out on the padded bench, and reveled in the thoughts of what he would do to the plump Cenkataaran boy who fancied himself a full Accomplished, just because he possessed one bolt of potential. The contemptible fool had the audacity to mock and glare at him. He was also the one who had administered the beatings every time his charge summoned too much potential. The pug-nose little dog needed to learn respect. Serin chuckled at the thought of using his surgical blades to slowly peal away the man’s epidermis. He could almost hear the satisfying pleas for mercy and death. Oh how the fellow would suffer. Each finger would be removed; one knuckle at a time, then his toes, and then the dismemberment would not stop until the fool was a dying bloody torso. Serin knew spells that would slow down the blood flow, prolong life, all while his patient remained conscious. He did still enjoy using some of the spells he had learned during his early years
as a member of the Aloe Guild.

Bitterness swelled in him at how Vance Cummin had refused to utilize any guild resources to extricate him from the clutches of Benhannon and his foolish traveling companion Tim Dukane. Cummin was the only surviving member of the guild who rivaled Serin Gell in potential. The man was reorganizing the association to his liking and deliberately leaving Serin out of the process. The other Three-bolt Accomplished wanted to be appointed the new Maestro of the Serpent Guild. Even now, the man was probably acquiring Serin’s network of guild associates, a web of alliances that had taken him decades of work to develop. His communication amulets had been taken from him by Tim Dukane and were probably destroyed by Benhannon. Serin could not initiate communication with any of his associates, but that did not prevent them from contacting him, which they had not. More than enough of them existed to form an extraction team if at least one would speak to him through the amulets he had provided. His hope of esc
ape was diminishing day by day.

He closed his eyes, partly so as not to see the blue glow and mostly so he could better visualize his fantasy. Time elapsed and he fell asleep. Pleasant dreams of torture filled his mind. In one he captured Daniel Benhannon, cut and stabbed him to the point of death, and then healed him, only to repeat the same procedure over and over again. In other dreams he would make the Ducaunan watch as Serin tortured and killed his parents, friends, and the three other Aakacarns who had been involved in the defeat at Bashierwood. Serin dreamed of defeating Talmon Reese, the Maestro of the Eagle Guild in a duel, recovering the baton of
Tarin Conn, and then leaving Aakadon to find the lost flute of Della Lain. He could then destroy the ancient crescendo and free Tarin Conn from entombment beneath Mount Kelgotha.

The last dream faded like vapor and Serin found himself in the audience chamber at Serpent Central, only grander than the physical one Balen Tamm ruled from. The chamber was immense and had a mirrored ceiling and a diamond chandelier. Each crystal glowed with a power of its own and bathed the room in rainbow light. A crimson carpet stretched up the center of the white marble floor, climbed thirteen steps and came to a stop at the feet of a crystal throne. In the seat of power was a large man with wavy hair the color of raven’s wings. His eyes were black as coal, his chin well suited for the high cheekbones and aristocratic nose. He wore a blouse of purple silk, tucked into violet pants, encompassed about with a broad black belt encrusted with diamonds. His black bo
ots shined like polished glass.

Serin quickly prostrated himself before the ancient and powerful
Tarin Conn. “Great Master, how may I serve?”

   It had been so long since the Lord of Dreams visited him, Serin had feared the worse; that he had fallen out of favor with the Supreme Maestro. He well knew this audience did not guarantee good standing, that he could be about to fac
e the full wrath of his master.