Dave Smeds - The Sorcery Within

"Yes."

"And yet you ask it?"

"Yes."

Miranda's robes shuffled as she paced slowly about the dais, her movement creating sound but no wind. "Do you think you are worthy to hear the answer?"

Keron thought for several seconds, then shrugged. "How am I to judge?"

She came to the very edge of the dais and extended her hands. "Come forward," she said.

He struggled to his feet, almost unable to make his numb legs work. When he had approached, Miranda took his head between her hands. Keron felt a disorienting buzz. Something pressed against his temples. The contours felt like fingers and palms, but the sense of energy was beyond the limits of any fleshly touch. It seemed to reach inside his head.

He watched Miranda's expression change from calm concentration to surprise to bright-eyed interest. "At last," she murmured.

She disengaged and returned to the center of the dais, the excitement evident in her every step. She spun, facing Keron again, and said, "Listen carefully."

"I will."

"Know that there are talismans of Alemar not accounted for. Seek those that were left in Setan. Only one of the Blood may fetch them. This is vital. Send no one after them except children of the Dragonslayer. After the talismans are in your hands, one will appear who can make use of them. Then, perhaps, Gloroc will be defeated. That is all."

She blew him a kiss and was gone, like a dandelion in a sudden gust.

There were only three men in the private study of the king: Pranter himself, Keron, and Gelle, chief royal historian. The latter spoke.

"There came a time, after Alemar had built the empire and brought it to glory, that he grew tired of rule. He left the day-to-day administration to his great-grandson, Imt, and retired from public life. Thereafter, he dwelt in his chambers deep within the palace, engaged in sorcery, and appeared only at special occasions. By the time of Harath the Third, he had vanished altogether, except to rumor. At Harath's coronation, it was Miranda who placed the crown on the king's head. She herself was rarely seen.

"Then, two centuries later, Alemar suddenly came into the light and requisitioned a group of architects and construction personnel, as well as quarry workers and sailors. He took command of three of the fleet's best cargo ships, and sailed to Carajen in the Gulf of Anrahou. From there, his caravan went into the Eastern Deserts, at that time an empty land. For some years, shipments of food goods for his work crew followed, along with various materials and additional artisans.

"Then, as suddenly as he had gone, Alemar returned, along with his helpers who, though they were asked to speak of what they had labored upon, said nothing. Occasionally one of them would attempt to do so, and be stricken dead on the spot. In due time, all these individuals lived out their natural spans, and not long after Alemar and Miranda disappeared from the kingdom without announcement. Of the place in the Eastern Deserts, the only trace we possess is the name: Setan."

"Then we don't know where this place is?" the king said.

"No, sire. There is a Setan within the land of Zyraii, a nomad nation. It is some sort of holy relic. No one is sure how it obtained the name. It could be the same place."

"Do we have maps?"

"None that we could trust, my lord. The Eastern Deserts have never been part of the empire."

"The facts fit," Keron said. "It is very conceivable that Alemar could have left talismans – perhaps his most powerful – in this place."

"Why?"

"Perhaps to keep foolish men from trying to use them inappropriately. Perhaps to hide them from the Dragon."

"The Dragon did not appear until my great-grandfather's reign," Pranter argued.

"But the Dragonslayer knew the child of Faroc and Triss was out there, waiting for its time. He may have prepared for the eventuality."

The king sighed, but nodded. "Very well. We are beggars. We can't afford not to investigate the possibility. But tell me this – which of my kin will I burden with this duty? The Dragon watches us all. He knows the wizard's brood. The moment one of us removes himself from the protection of royal Elandris, the risk is very great that the Claw will find him. And even if he should slip away successfully, the absence of any of the Blood will be noticed. The wrong questions will be asked."

Keron had already considered this, and had an answer. He asked first that the historian retire. The king and the scholar both scowled, but eventually yielded to Keron's insistence.

"Well, Admiral? What is your inspiration?"

It tumbled out. For the first time in twenty years, Keron told someone the story of his bastard children in Cilendrodel, whom he had seen only twice in their lives. "I have often thought, now that they are fully grown, to bring them to Elandris," he concluded. "Their mother has recently died. But I have seen no reason to endanger their safety. Yet now the risk is justified. They could make their way from Cilendrodel to the Eastern Deserts and back without Gloroc ever suspecting that any of the Blood were abroad."

"Your resources continue to delight me," Pranter stated. "It is good. If the Dragon were aware of their existence, they would have been killed before now. See to it, then."

"Yes, my liege. But may I ask a boon?"

"Of course! You have given an old whale his first bit of hope in two decades."

"Let me send the amulets of Alemar to them. I have a feeling that they might be able to make use of them. Obo says that they show a considerable talent with sorcery."

"Obo!"

"He has served me in Cilendrodel these past two decades, my lord."

Pranter grinned. "I wonder how many other surprises you have hidden? I agree with your thinking. Alemar and Miranda were twins, after all. If the guess is wrong, what have we lost? Go, then – and plan every move with caution."

Keron left, trying to move with decorum, but inside he felt the oppression of many years dissolve away. At last the road was open to involve his life with the children so often on his thoughts, and through them, to touch again the spirit of their mother.

"Lerina," he whispered softly.

Now, whatever the result of the quest, their offspring would leave a mark for all Elandris to note. He could offer that much to her legacy.

THE BLISTERED LANDSCAPE STRETCHEDfrom horizon to horizon, bereft of movement, greenery, or human construction. They saw eroded hills, deep gorges, cliff walls of yellow, brown, and orange strata. The sky was clear, the air hot and dry as it flowed past their faces. Alemar was awed. How could so much land be so empty?

He hung hundreds of feet above the world, dangling, with nothing between himself and the uncompromising badlands below. All his instincts told him he should be falling, but he wasn't. In fact, he and Gast were rising, carried by a thermal that seemed to grow stronger as they sailed higher. Gast laughed, his peals only half bridging the broad gap between his glider and that of Alemar. The rest of his mirth was stolen by the sky.

They didn't talk. Even on earlier flights, the only words spoken in the air had been Gast's instructions or Alemar's questions, but now the younger man had mastered the art of the glider well enough that they had no need to converse. They paid silent obeisance to the wind.

Now I'm a dragon, Alemar thought, not missing the irony.

Alemar stared wistfully at their campfire, watching scarlet cinders rise into the night sky. Their gliders lay at the edge of the shadows. They themselves had to maintain a substantial distance from the flame; the dry brush burned fiercely and quickly. Strangely, they had had no trouble finding the fuel. Desolate as the land seemed, it supported a wide variety of life. They knew where to obtain what they needed.