Chapter Sixteen

On one one little island in the Vauxterel chain, Fraser found a horror and made a home.

That’s where he’d been hiding for all these years.

He’s the only reason we are here today. Without his early sighting of the elvish invaders, they’d have overtaken Hastrior with no other kingdom the wiser until it was too late.

He was just in time.

From the personal journal of Ozora

Dean of Magics

The Bestiary

****

“No one has seen a high elf since the Sundering.” Taenya mused. “Are you sure?” She asked.

Fraser tossed his head and pointed at me. “She is. I don’t know what I saw.”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense.” I insisted.

“I mean, I hear what you’re saying.” Right away, I could tell she didn’t believe it. “Sure, maybe the Emperor has changed the tactics he’s used for the entire time high elves ruled the world.”

“Well, when you say it like that—”

“But why sneak in a high elf mage to plant a little sigil in the city that’s pretty and makes you feel good?”

“Don’t forget implanting a numin-draining attachment.” I reminded her.

“How does that help the high elf mage, or the Emperor? Tiny bits of numin from random city dwellers? High elves are swimming in numin. They don’t need to drain folks here in Hastrior.” She rolled on as if I didn’t interrupt. “That’s what doesn’t make sense.”

++ A valid point. Without seeing the sigil, I could not say. ++ The dragon was the only one here that had seen high elf magic. Since her voice was only in my head, it was sometimes hard to tell what she said to only me, or the entire group.

“Might be a tight fit in that street.” Fraser turned to where the dragon stretched her long length out in the grass, answering the dragon’s silent statement aloud.

Taenya, Fraser, and I were sitting under a tent in the fields west of the keep.

Cassyrra did not fit anywhere within the keep’s walls, and in the summer heat, the inner corridors and airless rooms were stifling. The builders of Hastrior designed it for defense, not comfort, with few open windows. After five years of neglect, its main benefit was shelter from the rare passing rains. The stone walls were strong as ever, but cleanup was a slow process.

We opted for tent living outside when we found a collection of them in storage. While we still used certain rooms and corridors, Taenya didn’t like to sleep far from Cassyrra, and I was happier to sleep outside where it was cooler. There were also plenty of linens, pillows, and rugs. We’d found several magically locked and thus untouched storage rooms. The contents of these storage rooms transformed the tents and hard-packed ground underfoot. Instead of simple cots and dirt floors, our quarters were plush, luxurious even. Paradise! With the keep between us and the city and Cassyrra, we slept peaceful and safe. None of the crime lords of the streets or their lackeys dared approach.

Grace, the chef’s wife, came out of the keep, carrying a platter with a collection of meats and cheeses. Her children followed, carrying more pitchers of water and ale. We all thanked her as they set the food and drink on the table.

That any staff remained was a miracle, and a blessing for us. The head chef and house manager had stayed behind, along with their spouses and children, as well as a few of the footmen and stable hands. When the keep was abandoned, they had no other place to go, and had kept a small section livable, including the kitchens. They appreciated the addition of Mayhem’s crew to help with cleaning and refurbishing.

“I doubt we could fit you anywhere in the city proper, love.” Taenya chuckled and Cassyrra rumbled, her draconic version remarkably similar to Taenya’s, if much deeper in pitch. “So we’ll have to just—”

“I can show you the spell. That’s easy enough.” I cut Taenya off. I couldn’t take this dithering any more. With a flourish, I cast up a glamour that showed the sigil Fraser found. If Cassyrra needed to see it to determine if it was high elvish or not, I’d make that happen now.

The image hung in the air over the table we all sat around, a delicate glyph of curling lines, slashes and dots drawn in a circular pattern of silvery numin. It glittered, so bright and hard it felt sharp, like a well-honed razor, just to draw it with my numin. Even in replica, it throbbed with power. As if just showing its image caused some odd echo effect between me and the original caster.

Interesting.

The strange sigil wavered and glinted where it hung in the air. Cassyrra raised her head and snarled. Cleobah looked at me curiously, her golden eyes gone hard.

++ Take it down. Now! ++ The dragon yelled, her inner voice drowning out whatever the sphinx was saying. I could see Cleobah’s lips moving, forming the same command.

I didn’t want to.

Even as a copy, the sigil was pretty and alluring. If I looked close enough, I might figure out its purpose, or the elf who cast it. That odd echo grew stronger, and I could feel and see something within the sigil’s graceful curves and lines. Echoes became whispers.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I could almost understand them.

++NOW++ Cassyrra’s roar wasn’t just in my head. It rattled the tent poles and broke my concentration, powered by the dragon’s anger and a brush of her numin. The sigil vanished with a slight pop and scattering of tiny bright shards that disintegrated into nothingness.

“High elf looking to trap the unwary. He almost did. Twice.” Cleobah’s long tail lashed, betraying her agitation despite her placid demeanor. Reality crashed in on me as my wits returned in the uneasy silence. I’d come close to drawing the original caster’s attention to us.

“I’ve—I’ve never seen that before. Never knew just a glamoured image of a spell could link back…” My voice trailed off, but I found it again. “I’m so sorry. I just thought to make things easier.”

I should’ve been more suspicious after seeing it hop onto Fraser. Never had merely showing a spell’s image caused that sort of linkage. It shouldn’t have been possible.

I’d been so wrong and put us all in danger. Remorse made me want to creep away in shame.

It hit me hard, right then.

None of us were ready for this, not if something as simple as an image-glamour spell could have such potent, far-reaching effects.

High elves here in Hastrior. Not in the future that we could prepare for. Nope. This was the here and now, and we were only getting started.

We ate in silence, each of us turning that knowledge over in our private thoughts.

I wanted to be wrong. Trying to stifle the hopelessness that washed over me, I lifted my head to catch a brief gust of wind that blew along the shore.

The summer breeze brought the scents of wildflowers and salt, sweeping away my glamour’s lingering energies. The atmosphere lifted, but only a fraction. I was embarrassed and looked over at my private tent several feet away with longing, weighing if I could slink away.

++ They craft them to capture all. The powerful fall under their sway as easily as the weak. ++ This time I knew Cassyrra’s gentle words were just for me. ++ There is no shame. Now you know their power and pull. Now you can guard against them. ++

I would have to. There was no running from this.

“Where did you see that?” Cleobah asked. I pulled my gaze from the slices of ham, turkey, and cheese on my plate. “That sigil?” She asked. “Where did you see it?”

“A tavern. We didn’t stop to look for more, but I’ll bet it’s not the only one.”

Fraser coughed but said nothing.

“Safe bet,” was Cleobah’s dry response.

++ Again, to what purpose? ++ Cassyrra mused. ++ Why send spies and plant luring spells when the Emperor could send fleets and armies? ++

“Unless he can’t?” Fraser tapped his lips, as if unsure he wanted to give voice to his own question. “What if the Emperor’s might is now reduced to subterfuge instead of invasion?”

His suggestion sounded ridiculous, but Cleobah didn’t laugh. Taenya’s gaze drifted to Cassyrra with that blank expression that meant they were talking privately.

++ Why do you say that Fraser? ++ Cassyrra asked. She shuffled her wings and shifted, swinging her head round to peer at all of us. Her cat-like pupils flexed, widening and narrowing as she peered into the tent from the bright sun. She was so big, not even her head could fit under the canopy. Heat radiated off her indigo hide, rolling over us like a wave as her bulk blocked the onshore breeze.

Fraser lifted his shoulders and shook his head. “No one ever said the Emperor was stupid. Look what spending his ships and armies like they’d never run out won him last time.”

He made a telling point. One I hadn’t considered.

“What if after all these years the Emperor figured out an easier way to take over? One that didn’t use up entire armies?”

Dammit! I hated to admit this.

“You might be onto something.” I had to unclench my jaws, so that I didn’t bite off the words. An idea popped into my head. It wasn’t the craziest one I’d had, but it was something.

“First thing we need to do is find out if there are more sigils and where they are.”

****

Cassyrra and Taenya were high above Hastrior while Cleobah and I stalked the city streets, hunting down the mystery high elf sigils. Every one we found, we reported the pair in the sky, who made notes. Fraser too went searching but struck out on his own.

Back at the keep, we’d tacked a map of the city to the stone wall under our common tent and had almost half of the city marked with the ones we’d found after a week. I fretted we still were walking the city. There had to be an easier way.

“There’s another.” Cleobah pointed with one plate-sized paw at the sigil. The high elf who cast these was Adept for sure, and his numin reeked of age and experience. I’d been right to call it ancient. His spellwork was beautiful, deadly, and he did not try to hide them. There was a deep level of contempt in them too, as if it didn’t matter if any saw them for what they were—skillful traps.

“Isn’t it funny how these are just laying out for anyone to stumble across?” Cleobah’s question mirrored my own inner thoughts. “He wants folks to blunder into them and pick up little shards of his spells.”

What wasn’t funny was how much difference five years could make. I remembered this street well. Fraser and I used to love the ransacked restaurant Cleobah and I faced, staring at the sigil sprawled across its front wall. A wide picture window once filled the space, giving diners a view across the whole of Hastrior’s bay.

Now plain, rough boards covered the space the window once filled, and the sigil filled the entire frame. It practically shouted at passersby to go indulge their whims.

Like every other sigil we’d found, this one’s enchantment was suggestion. The numin woven into its lines pulled at the unwary, drawing them in and planting a tiny copy of it on any who brushed against it. Cleobah and I watched as two people walked past and stumbled, rubbing their shoulders or hands against the sigil. That tiny brush was enough. With magesight, I watched the high elf’s numin burrow in, taking root in the person who walked on, oblivious they were now bespelled.

The suggestion itself was simple: indulge your every desire.

And seek Kioc.

We’d been unable to figure who or what Kioc was, but Hastrior’s residents were well in its grip. The results of the sigils spread among the folk were easy enough to see on any street corner or back alley.

“If only I could see the whole thing.” Frustration would not let me go. The map back at the keep was haphazard right now. Only once the entire city was mapped would we be able to discern a true pattern or purpose. “I bet if I could get aloft I could sense more of them and speed this up, but Cassyrra’s too big to fly low enough for me to see them with magesight.”

“I’ve got wings too.” The sphinx said, fluffing her feathers.

I swung to face her. “Are you saying you’d carry me?” The street was deserted. Cleobah and I stood in the middle of it, avoiding the sigil’s luring energies. They radiated out, covering the walkway. The rest of the businesses, other restaurants, jewelers, or clothiers were now half-burned, boarded up husks.

“I could.” Cleobah shrugged.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” I demanded.

“It’s a sphinx thing.” She said, giving me a sly smile. I rolled my head and eyes.

“You said nothing for a whole week, making us traipse all over these streets.” Yeah, I was a little mad about it.

Her face crumpled, and with a sigh, she admitted, “I wanted to see more of the city.”

I wrinkled my nose. “You did?” I could tell she was being honest. Her eyes glowed. That was a sphinx thing. Her numin flowed when she spoke the truth, illuminating her beautiful gold eyes.

Came in quite handy too, as Cleobah had a wicked sense of humor and was not above pranks.

“I’ve never been in one like this before and it looked so interesting, what I could see from the keep. I’m over it now. This is just depressing.” She stirred the air, gesturing with a wing at the cluttered street and dilapidated buildings. I held my breath as the gusts brought the street’s funky smell to nose level. Her expression shifted from sorrow to excitement.

“I can’t wait until we clean this place up.” Cleobah said to herself, then pointed with her wing. “Let’s go over to that park. You can use a bench to climb on so you don’t have to jump or pull on me.”

We had the map done that night.