James Barclay - Beyond the Mists of Katura

They were still standing only a few paces from the prisoners and their Senserii guard. Takaar thought to move away but Gilderon’s slight gesture bade him stay put.

He just wants to hear what the mage says.

‘He has earned that right,’ said Takaar.

‘Who, Garan?’

‘No, Gilderon. Garan died hundreds of years ago, didn’t he?’

‘I have no idea,’ said Pryfors. He shifted on his feet and bit his lip. ‘Just ask your questions.’

Takaar regarded Pryfors and frowned. He had so many questions but could not recall a single one. No, wait. Something Kerela had alluded to. .

‘Where are the researchers from the other colleges?’

Pryfors smiled indulgently, or perhaps it was in relief.

‘Only Xetesk possesses the ability to uncover the whereabouts of Dawnthief. Representatives of other colleges were here of course but all have. . withdrawn.’

Takaar raised his eyebrows. ‘How odd. I spoke at length to the council in Julatsa and they were sure they had a team here. Elves and men alike. Talented mages.’

Pryfors’ smile faltered slightly. ‘There has been a recent change in circumstances.’

Takaar shook his head, trying to release the pressure suddenly present in his skull. His tormentor’s voice was drowned out by a clamour in his mind. He tried to focus on Pryfors’ face if only to dull the noise inside him.

‘A change,’ he managed.

Pryfors nodded. ‘Let me explain. Dawnthief is a spell that requires the most extreme care. We are all aware of its devastating potential and this ruin is ample example of the lengths our enemies will go to gain it for themselves. Xetesk is the only college strong enough to properly protect the spell, research it and ensure it remains inert.’

‘The Wesmen did not do this,’ muttered Takaar.

‘I beg your pardon?’

Takaar wondered again why he was talking to this man. He didn’t seem to know terribly much.

‘Septern guarded his lands. The Wesmen triggered his castings. Follow the latent energy trails. It should be obvious to one so talented.’

Pryfors stiffened. ‘Your eyes are keen.’

‘And my ears are sharp.’ Takaar tripped Pryfors and followed him down, putting a knife to his throat. ‘I am uncomfortable with liars. I don’t like being uncomfortable.’

Pryfors did not hide his fear. Takaar had a hand on his neck and a knee on his stomach. He tried to push Takaar away but quietened quickly, surprised by the elf’s strength. The Senserii levelled their ikari at the prisoners to quell their disquiet.

‘Please. Whatever you want,’ gasped Pryfors. ‘What do you want?’

That really is a good question.

‘Just be quiet.’

‘All right, whatever you want.’

‘Not you!’ spat Takaar. ‘Why don’t you know when I’m not talking to you?’

Takaar sighed extravagantly, his sense of frustration intense, eclipsing his pain and his fatigue.

‘Please,’ said Pryfors again.

‘I hate to be wrong, it makes me very angry, but I’m wondering something. Auum said you wanted Dawnthief for yourselves to gain dominance. He said you didn’t send forces to Julatsa because you would be happy if Julatsa fell to the Wytch Lords and Wesmen. I disagreed with him. You will tell me the truth.’

‘All right, all right. We have no love for Julatsa but we also have no hatred of elves. We know we have to live together.’

Takaar pushed the knife into Pryfors’ skin. Blood leaked and Pryfors whimpered.

‘One more chance. I have made errors more costly in terms of lives than you could possibly match. I am forgiving. I am Takaar.’

Pryfors’ words came out in a rush. ‘The Julatsan team here was too close to an answer. We couldn’t let them discover the spell. They would not share their information and they would not back away. We had our orders and the Protectors can be commanded from great distance. I’m sorry their team had to be killed but they brought it on themselves. And then the Wesmen laid their siege. Julatsa is not the all-embracing peaceful college it claims to be; the Julatsans are dangerous and aggressive. They would challenge us after the Wytch Lords are defeated. So yes, we decided not to come to Julatsa’s aid. . they would have done the same.’

Takaar stood up. Pryfors lay where he was for a moment before getting slowly to his feet. Takaar shoved him back towards the rest of them.

‘I understand your anger at the death of the elves in the Julatsan team,’ said Pryfors. ‘We can make recompense to your nation and their families. We can-’

‘Have you understood nothing?’ shouted Takaar. His head was hot, his fingers were tingling and his grip on his knife was painful. ‘I was wrong and Auum was right. How could you let that happen?’

‘All I did was tell you the truth.’

‘And I do not like it,’ said Takaar.

Someone was hiding something from you. Maybe even Gilderon. He must have known.

Takaar shot a glance at Gilderon, whose expression was hidden behind his filthy cloth mask.

‘We are not your enemies. We are the power in this country. Side with us.’

Pryfors was back inside the ring of Senserii. His people were frightened. Takaar strode up to him, the reality of the situation suddenly obvious like a rush of Gyal’s tears on dry ground.

‘There is only one power in this country, and it is the magic of the Il-Aryn. You’ll see. I can sense so much that you cannot. No matter how you search you’ll never find the spell because it isn’t here. Not physically. I can find it though. I’ve travelled the dimensions before and I will research and understand all that Septern wrote. I will be the one to hold the power, I shall return myself to my rightful position and the elves shall be the masters. Then it won’t matter that Auum was right because we won’t need Auum, will we? He and his precious TaiGethen can be consigned to history. I was born for this moment. Yniss blessed me with the gift of the Il-Aryn so I possessed the skills to unlock the great secrets.

‘This is my destiny.’

That is your best yet. Over eight hundred years we’ve been together and you have exceeded even my expectations.

They were all staring at Pryfors and he was relating to them what Takaar had just said. Some of them managed to laugh but mostly they switched their stares to Takaar. The Senserii had eyes only for their prisoners but there was a tension in their stances which was at odds with their nature.

‘You’re raving,’ said Pryfors.

‘I am fulfilling my purpose.’

‘You don’t understand. You are not a lore scholar. You can never unlock Dawnthief. You could never cast it.’

Takaar smiled. ‘I am immortal. I can learn.’

‘Let me help you,’ said Pryfors, brightening.

‘I do my best work alone,’ said Takaar.

What, testing poisons out on yourself that didn’t ever quite kill you?

Takaar ignored the voice. A sense of calm was descending on him. The path was laid. Here, in this place, he would do his greatest work, even greater than creating the harmony. It would define man and elf anew, place them in their rightful positions.

There was just one minor unpleasantness to deal with. Takaar stood as if deep in thought while he constructed the dome once more and put it back in place. Consternation fled through the prisoners, those that felt the touch of magic anyway.

‘Gilderon, flethar kon aryn bleen.’ Make the earth red .

Takaar turned his back. Pryfors’ desperate cries were the first to be silenced.

When Gilderon sought out Takaar later, he was sifting through the ruins of the Manse, drawing lines on the ground and scratching marks on a piece of tree bark. Gilderon and the Senserii had moved the bodies downwind, laid out for reclamation by whatever beasts roamed Balaia. The Protectors had been accorded particular respect, their weapons cleaned and laid with them.