Chapter 18: Sel-kai Arrival Journal of Kalen Avanir TE 6050, Orhan 5, Afternoon of Day 68 (three days before the Winter Solstice/New Years Day) The Barge Inn, Canal of the Waiting Waters Sel-Kai City Settled in real rooms at last! I am certainly glad to be here in Sel-kai rather than home in Prevan. All the reports we have heard since our arrival are of winter storms sweeping down from the cold northwest to cover much of Jaiman. Fortunately the windy Melurian Straits generally prevent the brunt of the arctic storms from reaching Emer. Once we entered the narrow channels between the Sel-kai islands early this morning, the sea grew relatively calm and it was almost like being on a river. As we approached the city of Sel-kai we glimpsed Eidolon: a dark shape hovering above us in the cloudy predawn sky. It was a sight that I found unnerving. It seemed unnatural somehow. And what a huge place the city below is, swarming with ships and boats, and skyships overhead. It was suddenly overwhelming after being in our own little world for so many days. Then as we drew closer to Sel-kai, a mist rose off the channel. By the time we swung around west towards the harbor it had become a fairly dense -- and chilly -- fog. Since docking and getting to the inn, the mist has thinned but now there is a sleeting drizzle falling on the city. Not the most inviting weather; the sort of thing I thought we would have left back in Jaiman. I cannot say I am too sorry to be off the ship, though. It had become quite confining, and I had had enough of our seemingly non-stop series of perils on board. Interestingly, it took a few hours to become accustomed to walking on solid land again. Jad mentioned that he also felt as if the ground were rolling beneath him. A strange trick of the mind indeed. Oh yes, I also wanted to mention: on the deck of the Naristral before we parted, Ruuth the Herbalist bid us all farewell then hugged Lukas, Jad and me, and slipped Jad a scrap of paper. “I believe you’ll find that ‘hair soap’ at this apothecary. Here they call it ‘shampoo.” She added with a little chuckle. Lukas reminded us that he would be staying at the Circle Lodge for at least the next few weeks, and urged us to come by any time. He thanked us again profusely for our part in aiding him after his wounding, and — under Yandar Vit’s disapproving frown — hugged both Jad and me. Then he and his scowling tutor strode down the gangplank and merged into the mist-shrouded crowds of Sel-kai. I wonder if we shall see them again while we are here. Having not made previous lodging arrangements ourselves, we took Ruuth’s recommendation. The Barge Inn is not a bad establishment, having many fine private rooms with comfortable beds — a relief from the cabin of the Naristral or relatively cramped quarters in smaller inns. Jad and I have a suite and Taluk and Bertram a fairly spacious room. And there is a fully equipped bath down the hall. Jad is excited that we will be spending the New Year here, because certainly few cities could rival the parties this metropolis mounts. I am also looking forward to spending some time in a place such as this city, which even dwarfs Haalkitaine and Lethys. Sel-kai boasts an excellent university and library — I could do research here on many topics that interest me. And perhaps here I can find someone who can unravel the secret of the item I carry, this Phoenix pendant. I have the feeling that this is an item of some significance (beyond its strange glowing and warming in response to certain spells being cast nearby) and I need to learn all I can about it. This afternoon hopefully the weather will improve and we will begin to explore this exotic city. At some point I hope to go up to the somewhat intimidating sky city of Eidolon, though Jad swears he will never get on a flying boat. Apparently Eidolon is rather exclusive; if necessary I could probably identify myself as a member of the Rhakhaan nobility to be allowed in that privileged city, but I would prefer to travel in relative obscurity. While I think my father is being paranoid when he talks of assassins and kidnappers, it would not do to advertise our presence here. Randae restlessly wandered his rooms, pacing like a mountain cat trapped in a cage. Despite the grey chill of the early morning and the icy rain falling outside, he had the doors to his balcony open wide. The place was littered with wine bottles, trays loaded with dishes and teapots. One fire was only embers while another burned dangerously large, flames licking up towards the mantle. The bed was unmade. The place was a wreck. So was its occupant. Randae had guessed the truth moments before Veriak had said the names last night. Suddenly everything clicked into place. The cousins from Rhakhaan — Kalen and his squire, the ones with a mysterious background that he and Ren Thraysk had discussed just days ago — they were somehow tied in with the Soulsword and thwarting Ondoval. He had suspected something about them a few years ago when they visited Gryphon College. It seemed like centuries in the past — but that was the way Elven memories worked: Elves often had a problem with judging time and occasionally even order of events. When you live for thousands of years, memories get filed away in odd nooks and cubbyholes of the mind and forgotten until recalled by sometimes-unlikely associations. And, though Randae had mentioned coincidences to the Seer, he didn’t believe in them any more than Veriak. According to Ren, these cousins were coming to Sel-kai (if they weren’t already here) at the same time Randae was staying in the city. Though it seemed random chance, the Loremaster knew that there were always subtle forces in play, nudging people in certain directions… if they were open to such influences. But who was behind this? Some secret cult or order assigned to guard the Eyes of Utha — and perhaps the Soulsword — against just an eventuality like this? It seemed incredible that an organization could have survived through the hundreds of centuries of the Interregnum, but anything was possible. But if so, why did they not have among them some powerful warrior who could wield the sword? Or was it the Lords of Orhan themselves? That seemed unlikely — the Lords had not intervened directly in the affairs of the world since the Wars of Dominion. Though the Lords could very well be behind the so-called ‘coincidences,’ it didn’t seem like their style to have actually arranged for the existence of the apparently rather unique cousins. Because there must be something special about them to have been singled out in this way. Some inborn ability or lineage or immunity. But the identity of the instigators aside, the question that nagged at Randae most was why were the apparent chosen ones a pair of boys barely out of adolescence? Could one of them really be destined to wield the Soulsword? He suspected that neither would last more than a few breaths of time in combat against the lowliest of Ondoval’s minions, much less before the Essænce Lord himself wearing the most powerful dark artifact in history, Soulsword or not. And Randae did not think that Ondoval would not wait much longer before striking the Southern Eye; it was not as if there would be years to train and prepare them. Could whoever maneuvered this have somehow badly miscalculated? What troubled Randae most was… what — if anything — should he do about all this? Acting based on information from Seers was notoriously perilous. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to at least arrange to meet them. But how to do it without making them suspicious? He suddenly stopped his pacing, stormed over to the bell pull and gave it a vicious tug, then began rummaging through his luggage while he waited for the valet to arrive. There was a knock fairly soon, and Randae let in a young man wearing the Inn livery. “First, draw me a bath, second, get these clothes cleaned,” he hefted an armload into the youth’s arms, “Third, bring me writing papers, and fourth, clean this place up!” “Yes, M’sur.” The poor boy nodded, struggling with his burden as he stumbled towards the bath. Jad and Kalen stood in a cobbled intersection somewhere in Sel-kai City. The cold grey rainy morning had given way to a brisk but sunny afternoon, so they decided to venture out into the city -- after buying a map from the innkeeper. They had wandered for some time down avenues and across bridges, and now five narrow streets curled away from them like shadowy tunnels. Mobs of people of every race imaginable hustled past. Everyone seemed to know just where he was going… except them. Kalen looked up between the overhanging upper stories of these ancient shops — already too close together — and saw the airborne city of Eidolon floating in the sky far above and to the west: the top was now all glimmering towers and bright green trees, while the underside was a shadowy hemisphere shrouded in a maze of dark structures. Again Kalen was struck by how unnatural it seemed, and somehow ominous. “Jad, we’re lost!” he turned to his cousin in desperation, only to realize that the Squire was holding the city map sideways. “I get my bearings better if I hold it the way I’m facing!” Jad snapped defensively before Kalen could even open his mouth. “Just hold the hippogriffs, I’ll have it in a moment.” Jad’s protests failed to reassure the young nobleman, however. Just then, a slender young man in a leather apron emerged from a nearby shop, walking purposefully towards them. The shingle above his door read (in both Shay and the common-Elvish tongue of Erlin) Bryon’s Bicycles and underneath: Wainwright. At first Kalen feared the man would chastise them for loitering outside his shop, but his face broke into a friendly smile as he approached, while he wiped his hands on the well-worn apron. He had curly blond hair, flushed cheeks and glacier-blue eyes. Kalen thought he detected the look of some Elven ancestry. “Hello! Y-you two look like you could use some, uh, direction.” He spoke in Erlin, but had that almost sing-song Emerian accent, and also a slight stutter. “Muh-maybe I can help you.” “Thank you, yes!” I am Kalen, and this is my cousin Jad.” Jad favored the young man with a glare over his map — which appeared to have spun 180 degrees since Kalen had last looked. “Bryon, son of Thoma. I build bicycles.” He announced proudly. “Here, let me see your map.” Jad reluctantly handed over the large, wrinkled document. “I know we’re in the South Commons, but — ” Bryon donned a pair of small, metal-rimmed spectacles and peered at the map. With a smile, he spun it around again. “Well, first of all, you’re about three streets and a big canal off; you’re here in the Old City…” A few minutes later they were on their way. Jad had remained silent through Bryon’s thorough — if somewhat broken — explanation, instead staring into the wainwright’s shop window. Kalen suspected his pride was bruised, but all at once he burst out “What in the Six Pales is a bicycle?” Patrick O’Kiran, brown hood pulled forward to shield his face, wandered the streets of Sel-kai city ostensibly window-shopping. This planet continued to amaze him in so many ways: from the barely tolerable hygiene to the inexplicable ‘magic’ at work everywhere. In most ways this city—and it was apparently one of the most culturally and technologically advanced on the planet—was comparable to the early Renaissance on old Earth. But belying that was the palace of Eidolon floating in the air high above, a gleaming presence surrounded by airborne ships. It was as beautiful and impressive as the cloud city of Cirrus on Kashmere or airborne crystal spheres of Ventara III, both daring examples of sustained anti-gravity. And on the ocean voyage here he had witnessed magical events to rival anything Imperial technology could offer. The submarine ship had been relatively crude by Imperial standards but was a wonder for a planet such as this, and those raiders had appeared out of thin air on the deck of the ship. And of course there was the stoic Navigator, capable of localized weather control. Patrick certainly did not doubt that this planet was worthy of study. The downside of course was that he was essentially trapped on this rock. The very energies that allowed ships to fly and Navigators to teleport and master the seas also interfered with almost all technic power sources in a manner not yet understood. But there was evidence that this planet was once home to a highly advanced civilization, and surely their machines did not suffer the same problems. Part of Patrick’s mission here was to discover that technology and learn its secrets. He was lucky at least that most small battery-cell powered equipment like his personal shield, scanner and cloaking device seemed to function normally. But communication with Alpha Base in Thuul was intermittent, and contact with the Orbital Station was almost impossible. He was pretty much on his own, but as a TARA Monk of the Dia Khovaria, he was used to it. This was a walk in the park compared to his mission on the Proteus a couple of years ago. Patrick’s ear implant beeped: the scanner was picking up energy generation from somewhere nearby. Not strong but steady. Patrick hoped that this was something he would be able to get close to and analyze without too much difficulty. While his training included covert operations, he didn’t relish breaking into peoples’ houses. The Seer Iaen Shiin sat alone in a dim chamber within the Ahrenthrôk, a fortress deep beneath the isle of Votania, the elaborate Order of the Eye mechanism on his head. His own eyes appeared unfocused behind the device’s lens, but that was because his sight was far away, peering into the mists that shrouded the vast fortress of Ahrentorg, the fastness that was one of the eight ‘Secrets’ of the Jerak Ahrenreth, and now served as the home of the Essænce Lord Ondoval. But even using this instrument of the Order of the Eye, he was unable to pierce the shadows surrounding Ahrentorg. He suspected that Ondoval was using the power of the Shadowstone to cloak the place against magical spying. Iaen Shiin needed to find out what was going on inside that holding, to know what Ondoval was planning and when. If Schrek was right and the Essænce Lord really planned to destroy the Eyes of Utha, he must be stopped no matter what the cost. Without the Eyes, the Flows would be out of control and magic would become dangerous and unreliable. It might not even work at all. Ondoval was either insane for wanting this, or he had dangerous but clever plan: Only the Lords of Essænce had experienced life before the time of the Eyes, and if those magical guardians were destroyed then only the Lords would be able to operate freely, without needing to adapt to the chaos that the uncontrolled Essænce would surely create. Perhaps Ondoval sought a return to a time when the Lords of Essænce ruled the Shadow World without rival. All other Essænce-wielders would find their powers crippled before the K’ta’viiri overlords. So, of course it was not in the best interests of the Ahrenreth for Ondoval to succeed. But how to thwart one who now possessed the most powerful artifact of all time? The previous wearer — the Empress Kadæna — had only been stopped by another Lord wielding a sword that annulled the powers of the Shadowstone. Iaen Shiin had agents pursuing that possibility, but it seemed like a remote one: the sword was probably lost, or could only be wielded by an Essænce Lord. There must be another way… ideally one that concluded with not only the demise of Ondoval, but the Shadowstone finding its way into the hands of the Seer. Then we would see who rules the Secret Circle. The Seer’s mind had wandered and so did his magical vision. The Eye headset focus had drifted back closer to home, and he was now watching the City of Sel-kai as the sun was setting. Something had drawn him here: some unguarded power had entered Emer. As an instrument of the Order of the Eye — one of the high ministries of the old Emerian Empire — the device was still sensitive to anything within the shores of the continent. But what the instrument sensed was not another item of one of the Imperial Orders; it was something different, even older and more arcane. It was difficult to make out more: Sel-kai was a center of power in more ways than one, and the clutter of other energies in that metropolis made picking out this one item difficult. It might be one of the artifacts of the Six Kingdoms of Jaiman… Then just as he thought he was closing in, the power indication was snuffed out. The owner had either cast a spell to cloak the item, or entered a place that was protected against detections. Iaen Shiin sighed, then carefully removed the delicate instrument from his head and set it in its protective box. He would have to look for that item again later. Such a thing would be extremely useful to the Eight. In the meantime, there might be other methods to investigate. The Seer closed his eyes and cast out a mental summons to Koren Maas his operative in the Order in Sel-kai. Maas was leader of an offshoot group there called the Unseen Eyes. He was also an Itanian Warlock, and Security Minister for the Prince of Sel-kai. ‘Maas… it is Iaen Shiin.’ ‘Yes, my Lord?’ ‘I have an assignment for the Unseen Eyes.’ In Sel-kai City, the sun was sinking low in the west, and the cousins from Jaiman were laden with packages. Jad had even gotten his hair soap from the apothecary Ruuth had recommended. Kalen was about to suggest that they head back towards the inn when Jad’s head snapped around. “Look, a Seer! Kalen, let’s get a reading!” He pointed to a shingle hanging above a shop door. The Marquess narrowed his eyes, partly against the sun’s glare and partly out of suspicion. The sign featured a large slit-pupiled eye, some runes and the words in Erlin The Serpent’s Eye: Fortunes Told, the Future Seen. While he supposed that there were reputable Seers who could really use the Essænce to peer into far times and places, he suspected that most were merely con men who pretended to do so. Those with the talent to cast spells were uncommon, those with the Mentalist power of Sight even more rare. “I don’t know, it seems like a waste of money to me.” Kalen scowled. “Oh come on, it’ll be fun.” Jad implored. “I’ll pay!” Kalen’s shoulders slumped. He knew better than to argue with Jad. “All right, if it doesn’t take too long. I wouldn’t mind sitting for a little while anyway; my feet are hurting.” “You’ve gotten soft from sitting on a ship for so long.” The squire teased, even as he half-skipped towards the Seer’s shop. Kalen reluctantly followed as Jad eased the door open. There was no bell suspended above it as was typical of other shops, and instead of the usual store layout with counter and cases for goods, the place was comfortably furnished like a sitting-room. It was also rather dark, lit by only a bit of daylight filtering in between heavy drapes and one small lamp. ‘Greetings, I will be with you momentarily.’ A voice boomed, not in their ears, but in their heads. ‘Make yourselves comfortable.’ I guess this guy is for real, Kalen thought, as Jad turned to him, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. After the initial shock had worn off, they dropped their parcels and sat down. They didn’t have to wait long, however, before the door in the back wall opened and a tall, blond Elf came into the room. Clad in a long sleeveless jacket (that accentuated his powerful shoulders) and breeches of some shimmering dark blue fabric, he was an imposing presence. The Elf turned to face in Jad and Kalen’s general direction, but didn’t look directly at either of them. His eyes were a brilliant azure. “Welcome. I am Veriak. You have come to have your future seen?” “Yes!” Jad answered before Kalen could say anything. “Very well. My fee is two silver pieces each.” “That seems a bit steep.” Kalen frowned. “Do you doubt my credibility?” Veriak stared at a point somewhere over Kalen’s shoulder. The Marquess thought this was a very odd affectation, until it dawned on him. This Seer is blind! “No, I do not, but we don’t have a lot of money to spend on… things like this.” “You appear to be affluent enough. And I assure you that your money will not be wasted.” “Oh come on, Kalen!” Jad sighed, reaching for his belt-purse. “It’s you’re money.” Kalen shrugged. Veriak blinked slowly. “Keep your money for now. At the end of the session, you decide whether or not it was worth your silver. Does that sound equitable?” “Can’t argue with that arrangement.” Jad grinned. “Then come, join me in the consultation room. You may leave your packages here; they will be safe.” Veriak gestured with his right hand and the bolt shot home on the front door. Kalen jumped in surprise. “Sorry,” The Seer smiled briefly in a way that implied to Kalen that he wasn’t sorry at all. “I didn’t mean to startle you. This way, please.” He led them down a corridor to a circular room lit by many candles. There was a small round table in the center with three chairs around it. Behind the far chair, entwined on what looked like a sturdy hat-rack, was a huge snake. “Wh-what is that?” Jad stopped dead just inside the room, so suddenly that Kalen bumped into him. “That is my pet snake. I assure you he is completely domesticated and harmless.” Veriak pulled the door shut behind him. Even as Veriak spoke, the snake’s head moved and its gaze fixed on the boys. “If you say so,” Jad was plainly unconvinced. He edged into a chair, clearly not wanting to get any closer to the reptile than necessary. Kalen did the same. The Seer, by contrast, strode confidently to the back of the room, petted the snake just behind the head and slid into his seat. “How about a reading from the Orhan Tarot, to start?” He produced a large deck of cards from a compartment under the table and began to shuffle them “Sure!” Jad said eagerly, his attention flickering between the Seer’s swiftly moving hands and the snake, whose head had edged forward over the Seer’s shoulder, almost as if it wished to see what was transpiring on the table. Though that was ridiculous of course, he thought. This is a dumb animal! “Would you like a general reading, or something more specific?” Veriak turned his head towards Jad, but again didn’t look directly at him; instead it seemed like he was gazing at some point on the wall. Kalen was even more convinced that this regal-looking Elf was blind, even though he seemed to be able to move about as well as any sighted person. Maybe he has memorized the layout of the place. Or maybe he can ‘see’ magically. “I guess just general, my future.” Jad said after a pause. “Very well.” Veriak said with a certain note of finality in his voice. He shuffled the deck a few more times, then placed the deck of well-worn cards in front of the Squire. “Cut them please.” Jad realized he was trembling a little as he lifted part of the deck, set it on the table, then placed the bottom section on top of the other. Veriak swept them up, and then waved his hand over the shiny black tabletop in a circular motion. A shimmering pentagram pattern appeared in the surface, like a silvery inlay. The Seer took the first card from the deck and said, “This card represents you.” He placed it in the center, face up. It was one of the Minor Arcana, portraying a fair-haired youth in courtly attire bearing a glowing gem in his right hand: the Page of Jewels. “While you present the appearance of lightheartedness and frivolity, you are serious, hard-working and loyal.” Jad glanced at Kalen, then back to the cards. The Marquis noticed that his cousin was blushing, at the same time wondering again how the apparently blind Elf could perceive images painted on rectangles of card. He noticed that the snake was staring at the card. The conclusion he drew made him shudder. Veriak drew the next card, saying “This card represents your origins.” He turned over the next card and, with a raised eyebrow, placed it within the pentagram beneath the first card. “One of the Major Arcana: Moralis, dark god of Lust and Pain. Interesting.” Jad looked from the Seer to Kalen in alarm. “But--!” “Hold your questions!” Veriak raised his hand. “Perhaps the purpose of this card will be revealed as the foretelling unfolds.” He drew another card and placed it to the left and just below center. “This card symbolizes your internal forces in the past and what experience you bring to the foretelling. It is the Two of Staves, reversed. In this orientation it means that you have a sense of wonder about the world, possibly to the point of being naïve. While your instincts are true, sometimes you deny your intuition.” The Squire narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the card and squirmed in his seat. “This card,” The Seer drew another and placed it to the upper left, “Represents outside influences in your past leading up to the present.” The card depicted a young man with dark hair holding a large, ornate goblet in both hands. A fish is rising up out of the cup; fish and youth are gazing at each other as if communicating somehow. “The Page of Cups: an intelligent and studious young man who is your ally. The card also has connections to birth and family. You two are related, are you not?” “Our mothers are sisters.” Jad said softly. Veriak pursed his lips. “The cards are not often so literal. Let us proceed.” He placed the next card to the lower right. “Your fears for the future: the Five of Jewels.” The card depicted a couple, faces downcast, walking under a sky where five gems gleamed unnoticed. “You fear loneliness, an impoverishment of spirit.” The Seer placed the next card in the remaining open space inside the pentagram to the upper right. “Your hopes for the future: the Two of Cups.” The card depicted a man and woman holding goblets together as if in a toast. “This card indicates your desire for a spiritual union, a marriage or strong and lasting friendship.” Jad glanced at Kalen in time to see him grimace. “This completes the reading up to the present; now we will see what is to come.” Veriak took the next card and placed it at the bottom left point of the pentagram “Your emerging state of mind: the Seven of Cups.” The card depicted seven goblets of different sizes and designs, and each was overflowing with something different: one held flowers, another coins and jewelry, yet another cup held grapes and other fruit. “You have many skills and an active imagination, but perhaps you fear that you lack the discipline or talent to excel at any one thing.” Jad seemed to be trying very hard not to show any expression as the Seer continued, placing the next card at the upper left point: “Outside forces in play now and in the near future: The Mage Arcanus, another of the Major Arcana, indicating a powerful influence.” The card showed a man with short, spiky black hair holding a rod in one hand and a jewel in the other. On a table before him were a small sword and a cup. “The Mage stands for -- not surprisingly -- Essænce forces, as well as secret influences and hidden knowledge.” Placing the next card at the lower right, the Seer said “This symbolizes the present state of affairs and immediate future: it is the Knight of Swords: uncertainty, physical peril. It may or may not represent an actual person but if so, it would be a dark-haired, fair-skinned warrior.” “And now, the forces opposing you or obstacles to your goals,” Veriak turned over a card and placed it in the upper right. It showed a stylized landscape with a small manor or castle with several windows, all but one darkened. In the sky above was the huge moon Orhan surrounded by dark clouds, and partially eclipsing it was the blood red disk of Charon. “The Third Moon. This is a portent of powerful dark forces and a time of great conflict and danger, both physical and magical.” “And finally, the outcome: the Ace of Swords.” Veriak placed the card at the top of the pentagram. It showed just a hand holding a sword skyward, while lightning arced down to dance along the blade. “Triumph after a terrible conflict, and perhaps a loss.” Jad collapsed in the chair and exhaled as if he had been holding his breath. “Is that it? I don’t understand.” The Seer was unphased. He templed his fingers. “Interesting that, again, the final card is of a different nature than your hopes or fears, clearly referring to a situation you are not yet aware of and may be beyond your control. Cards relating to your feelings are Cups: those related to emotions and relationships, while those involving your actual future are primarily swords: the suit of conflict and physical power. I would say that, while your reading has reflected your wishes and feelings regarding the future, there is some overriding event that has co-opted the foretelling. You would be wise to heed this harbinger.” “How can I heed something I don’t understand? It makes no sense.” The Squire was far less enthusiastic than when they had first come into the Seer’s shop. “Perhaps not now,” Veriak said patiently, “But I have a feeling things will become more clear as the future becomes the present. I also suspect that if you ponder what we have seen here that you will learn a few things about yourself. Do you deny the accuracy of what the cards show about the past and present?” Jad folded his arms across his chest defiantly. “No…” He said slowly. “Except that Moralis thing.” “Indeed, it is intriguing.” Veriak mused. “But I can’t offer an explanation without more knowledge of your past.” Kalen remained as silent as his cousin then, but he suspected Jad was thinking the same thing he was. They didn’t know who the Squire’s real father was; his mother Irina was raped by (they assumed) one of the Messengers of Al-Athuul during an attack, and there were many mysteries surrounding the nature of her pregnancy. The Seer, realizing that no new information was forthcoming, changed the subject. “And now it is your turn, young master.” He turned towards Kalen and raised his eyebrows expectantly, at the same time gathering up the cards without looking at them. “I’m not sure I want to go through that whole process.” Kalen said hesitantly. “Should we get to the point, then, my Lord? You have something in your possession, something with magical powers you do not understand. You wish to know more about it.” Kalen’s eyes widened. “How do you know these things!” He demanded, indignant. He felt violated somehow. It seemed that there was no privacy in the presence of this man. “I am a Seer, it is my gift to know things.” Veriak said with a sigh. “Would you rather we waste time playing conversational games, dancing around what you really want to know?” “I suppose not.” Kalen slumped into the chair, defeated. He unbuttoned the collar of his tunic and drew out the Phoenix pendant, hesitating only a moment before taking it from around his neck and dangling it over the center of the table. As the little orb spun on its chain, it seemed to flicker brighter and brighter in the candlelight. Kalen noticed that both the Seer and his reptilian ‘pet’ were focused completely on the twirling bauble. “Interesting…” Veriak said very slowly, otherwise remaining absolutely still -- barely even blinking -- for such a long time that Kalen felt his arm start to grow fatigued. “May I hold it?” The Seer asked finally. “Very well.” Kalen reached over, but instead of cupping his hand to hold the orb as the Marquess had expected, Veriak gingerly grasped the chain. The orb had stopped its spin back and forth so that the fiery jeweled bird within was roughly facing Kalen. Veriak reached out very slowly with his other hand, and as his index finger approached the orb, it turned slowly until the Phoenix was facing him, and the orb began to give off an even brighter glow. The Seer was almost touching the crystal sphere when it suddenly flashed with a blinding light. Jad and Kalen both shrank back, blinking. Even the snake recoiled from the light. Of course Veriak was unphased, but he slowly pulled his hand back again. “You have suspicions about this item, do you not?” He said casually, handing the item back to Kalen. The Marquess dropped it around his neck again inside his shirt, glad to have it out of sight. “There are stories of a Phoenix Pendant, worn by a Magician who was high advisor to the King of Rhakhaan, but this could not be --“ “Ah but that is indeed what it is.” Veriak smiled ruefully. “I found it at the bottom of a stream, abandoned!” Kalen protested. “I think perhaps that you should learn more about the history of these artifacts.” The Seer sat back in his chair. “Even though Jaiman is far to the North I have some knowledge of the Six Crowns and their accompanying items. They were made long ago in the Second Era of Ire by the great artificer Tethior, with the help of another… who is not named. I believe it was at the bidding of the Loremasters, who desired to bring peace to Jaiman at any cost. The Crowns for certain had a power over their wearers, manipulating them in certain ways. It was not my understanding that the pendants and sword had similar power over their owners, but they did possess a certain ‘will’ of their own. More I cannot tell you, though I believe I can put you in contact with someone who can.” The minute they were out the door, Jad, with his usual tactless candor, blurted “He gives me the chills!” “I thought you’d be glad that he wouldn’t take our money.” Kalen had to agree that he was glad to be out of the dark little shop. “Sure, he refused a couple of silvers, but I think maybe he plans to take us for much more… or have his lackeys do it. I can’t believe he expects us to go meet some barkeep of all things, in a place called T’revor’s Tankard. And he says we shouldn’t should not go until the predawn Quintar—after midnight!” “It does seem odd.” Kalen agreed, though for some reason he did not think that the Seer had some elaborate scheme to rob them. He suspected that Veriak could very well have cast some enchantment that made them happily hand over their purses. “I think we should take his advice and visit this man tonight, Hiiri Taldin was his name I believe.” “I’ll be sharpening my sword then.” Jad muttered. The Seer closed the door and bolted it, then turned and leaned against the barrier, head down. Seemingly out of nowhere, a swirling light formed in the darkest corner of the antechamber. In a moment it had coalesced into the form of a tall woman enveloped in a blue-white nimbus. She wore a glowing gown of silver-grey and a girdle of some pearlescent cloth that supported a broadsword at her hip. Her long black hair was drawn back, and on her head was a tiara of a soft grey metal that wrapped around the back of her head but was open across the brow. From the band dangled a large teardrop pearl on each side so that they hung at her temples. Her eyes were grey and she had a piercing stare. Veriak’s mouth turned into a tight smile, though he did not raise his head. “Back so soon, Lady?” “I have been here all along, Seer.” “I assumed your were watching, though I did not feel your presence.” “I thought it best to keep myself cloaked while the boys were here. The Phoenix Pendant is… unpredictable.” “Ah so there are limits even you your powers? Veriak raised his head then and cocked an eyebrow. “Where artifacts such as that are concerned, it pays to be… cautious. At any rate, I returned to congratulate you. Very convincing. Things are in motion now.” “I would say so, between the verse for the Loremaster and what I told those boys, you are stirring things up, Lady. I didn’t realize that the mighty Lords cared what happened on lowly Kulthea anymore.” “We prefer not to intervene directly. Hopefully this will be enough.” “So I will not have the honor of your presence again?” “The future paths are shifting, but much remains uncertain. We shall see. For now, you have my thanks.” The stately woman raised her hand palm out in a sort of salute. “I am honored, Lady Valris.” Veriak nodded as the woman’s aura brightened for a moment, and then she was gone.
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