CHAPTER 2
Week after week, the work continued. It was a long time before the Elantyans felt they could pause for an evening of recognition and celebration. They had survived the battle, though the war was far from over, and diligent watchers continued to guard the coasts, alert for any sign of merlons.
On the evening of the celebration, thousands upon thousands of inhabitants gathered in the main governmental rotunda. The meeting chamber was made entirely of polished white stone marbled with gold veins. Shimmering crystals in the alcoves glowed with warm rainbow light, like prismatic torches.
On a low dais at the center of the rotunda, the five robed members of the Pentumvirate waited for the room to come to order as the noisy citizens found their places. Seating themselves in the ornately carved stone chairs arranged in a semicircle on the dais, the members of the Pentumvirate gripped the rose and turquoise decision crystals on the right and left arms of the chairs.
Nibbling the edge of her lower lip, Gwen stood near the exit of the Pentumvirate Hall with Vic, Lyssandra, Tiaret, and Sharif, waiting to be called forward. “Everybody fought the merlons,” Gwen whispered to her companions. “Why would the Virs make such a big deal out of what we did?”
Vic gave her a mocking smile. “Don’t overanalyze, Doc. It’s cool. Just go with it. Celebrate now, contemplate later.”
In a low voice Tiaret said, “From the Great Epic, I have learned that false heroes risk others’ lives for their own glory and demand to be honored. True heroes, however, risk their own lives for others because honor demands it.”
Agreeing, Sharif leaned toward them with a satisfied smile and added in a hushed voice, “My people have a saying: A land without heroes is easily conquered.”
The white-robed Etherya, her dark hair caught up in ringlets high at the top of her head, raised her arms and said in a rich, melodious voice, “We stand in unity.”
“In unity is our strength,” responded the apprentices, along with the rest of the crowd.
“We who gather here share a belief in order over chaos, justice over uncontrolled power, and good over evil.” Etherya lowered her arms.
“We sit together in peace,” the crowd replied in unison, and they all took their seats on the tiered benches that ringed the meeting chamber.
Etherya once again raised her voice: “Today we gather to celebrate our freedom and our victories in several battles over the merlons. On behalf of the Pentumvirate, I thank every citizen who fought to protect Elantya. We also wish to recognize those essential individuals without whom the victories would not have been possible.”
The first ones to be called forward were Sage Rubicas and the anemonite Sage Polup. Ever since the merlon attack, Rubicas had been working on his large protective shield spell, trying day after day to recreate the barrier he had successfully tested—before his treacherous assistant Orpheon stole and destroyed much of his work.
“Before I present the Council’s gifts of thanks to Sage Polup and Master Sage Rubicas,” Etherya continued, “I have asked our anemonite friend to tell us his story, that we may better treasure our freedom and understand the nature of our enemy.” The crowd murmured its approval.
Sage Polup turned toward the crowd in his heavy, clanking body and adjusted something in the twin horn-shaped speakers at his chest. “Many years ago, my people lived at peace in a beautiful reef, sharing the oceans with all creatures and dwelling in harmony with them. We swam free on the currents and rode on spiny kraega steeds, assisting them as they assisted us.
“Then the merlons captured my people. They clipped our swim fronds so that we could not escape, and they forced us to invent weapons for them—something we had no desire to do.
“Because any resistance on our part resulted in torture or death, at last my people gave in. The merlons made many of us work in a place called Lavaja Canyon, where thermal vents spew out molten lava, which, as it hardens, releases great magical energies. We anemonites are capable of molding those energies for the merlons’ magic.
“When I could no longer compel myself to do the bidding of the merlon king Barak, I resolved to escape. With hope and desperation, I cast myself into the thermal currents rising from a bubbling lavaja vent. Though the water burned me terribly, the hot currents carried me higher and higher, whisking me away from my captors.
“The merlons did not follow, believing me already dead in the hot jets of water. I lost consciousness until a stream of cool water struck me and jetted me out of the thermal currents. I rode that stream for more than a day, not caring where I went, as long as it was away from the merlons. Near some reefs, where the water became shallow and turbulent, I spotted a kraega steed and persuaded it to carry me to Elantya, where your engineers and magical sages worked together to create this amazing body”—he lifted one thick arm to show off its gliding pulleys and bubbling lubricants—“so that I could live among you on the land. That is how I became an instructor at the Citadel. I long for the day when all of my fellow anemonites can be free, but until then I choose to live among you and work toward that time.” Polup turned back toward the Pentumvirate.
Etherya thanked him and presented him with a surprise. “We Elantyans made your walking body, and now we offer you a means to travel swiftly and safely in the ocean as well.” Engineers came forward carrying a shiny object from their construction laboratories. Polup swiveled his clanking body toward it.
To Gwen, the gift looked like a cartoon version of a flying saucer—a clear basketball-sized submersible bubble with a thick, teardrop-shaped metal base, which boasted a pair of extendable grappling arms and two quarrel launchers. Two magic sages explained the machine to Polup, murmuring words like “utility appendages,” “water circulation,” and “propulsion systems.”
“Cool!” Vic whispered. “A mini-sub made just for Polup.”
Gwen smiled. “Now he’ll be able to scoot around in the water again, much faster than any regular jellyfish could swim. I’d really miss it if I couldn’t swim.”
Tiaret glanced at her. “I intend to become an excellent swimmer.”
“Don’t worry,” Vic assured her. “We’ll start those lessons soon.”
Next Etherya addressed Rubicas. “Master Sage, the Virs have no gift befitting a sage of your skills, knowledge, and courage, save this: the Pentumvirate hereby appoints you Ven Sage Rubicas, the most revered sage in Elantya, Director of the Citadel, and Advisor to this Council.”
Though he was gray haired with a long beard, Rubicas grinned like a child. Applause rippled around the room. Lyssandra blinked in astonishment and whispered, “There has been no Ven Sage in Elantya since Qirteas died ten years ago.”
Etherya raised her hand again for quiet. “And now, Ven Rubicas, we should reward your apprentices.” She beckoned the five friends.
All eyes turned toward the students. Gwen felt distinctly uncomfortable as they walked forward. The others seemed so composed: Vic grinning and waving at the crowd, Sharif walking with straight-backed regal dignity, long-legged Tiaret taking it all in stride, and Lyssandra nodding calmly at everyone. Of course, Gwen had spoken to groups during her time on the debate team in high school, but those audiences had consisted of dozens, perhaps even a few hundred people, not… thousands.
From the dais, Etherya motioned for them each to stand in front of one of the Virs. “Again, mere words can never express our gratitude toward you. All of you showed surpassing ingenuity and courage in the face of repeated attacks, first at the reefs of Ophir”—here she nodded to Sharif, Vic, and Tiaret—“then aboard the Golden Walrus. Later you thwarted a merlon invasion from beneath the very city itself, protected Ven Sage Rubicas from a murderous spy, and chased the traitor down to wrest some of our defensive spells from his grasp. You also fought the battle kraken with spell scrolls, sunshine bombs, and magical cannon fire—and kept the merlons at bay in hand-to-hand combat. Each Vir has chosen a gift in token of our appreciation.”
First, Protective Vir Helassa spoke to Tiaret, who stood directly before her holding her teaching staff. Helassa had dressed in a fluttering, floor-length crimson gown in a Grecian style that revealed a good deal of skin. Her hair was a striking mixture of raven streaked with gold that cascaded in beautiful ringlets down her bare back.
“Tiaretya of Afirik, warrior and storyteller and keeper of your master’s staff, for you I chose a special rune to be etched into your staff. Once it is carved into the wood, your staff will become unbreakable. Use it wisely to protect yourself and Elantya.”
Vir Parsimanias, who faced Lyssandra, spoke next in the precise, clipped manner he always used. “Lyssandra of Elantya,” he said, holding up an emerald-green pendant on a xyridium chain, “for you I chose one of the ancient treasures of Elantya. This crystal vial—carved from pure water aja—is filled with medicinal greenstepe.” He twisted off a tiny cut-crystal stopper as the crowd mumbled in confusion. “It appears to hold only a drop. But do not be deceived: no matter how much you drink, the vial will always remain full. You may use the ’stepe to quench thirst or for its medicinal properties. Use your gift wisely, for yourself and for Elantya.”
Lyssandra whispered her thanks and hung the pendant around her neck.
Vir Pecunyas spoke to Sharif. “Sharifas of Irrakesh, for you I, too, chose a rune—one that will be embroidered into your carpet with sun aja thread. The rune will ensure that when you call your carpet, no matter how far apart you are, the carpet will eventually find you. Use it wisely for yourself and all Elantya.”
Sharif bowed his thanks. Piri, in the mesh sack around his neck, glowed pink and twirled in spirals of delight. He absently stroked the curve of her crystal sphere.
Questas, the Vir of Learning, looked at the two cousins. “Gwenya and Viccus of…” His voice trailed off. “Of Earth? As apprentices to Ven Rubicas, all of you have much work to do, and much that you may wish to record about your experiences here. Therefore, I entrust this gift to both of you.” He handed her and Vic small leather-bound booklets no bigger than the palm of a hand and as thin as a book of matches. The miniature volumes—not scrolls, but books—were identical, like twins.
“Thank you.”
Vic opened his book and flipped through it. All of the pages were blank. Gwen plucked a slender gold stylus from the spine of her book. It was clear that her cousin was feeling a mixture of amazement and faint puzzlement at the marvelous gift. After all, if it wasn’t science fiction, a book wasn’t necessarily Vic’s first choice.
“Is it a diary?” he asked.
“Perhaps. Or a notebook, or a communication device,” Questas explained. “Its uses are limited only by your imagination. Books and writing are powerful tools and invincible weapons, and the book you hold is very rare. No matter how many notes you take, how many drawings you make, how much you write or what stories you see fit to put into it, there will always be more blank pages. Use the stylus with it, and the words you write can never be erased.”
Gwen flipped the pages, eager to start writing.
“Even more special,” the Vir continued, “these two volumes are twinned. Anything one of you writes in your own book will be reflected in the other.”
“I guess I won’t put all my secrets in it, then,” Vic said in a low voice to Gwen. “‘Dear Diary, I think I’m being watched.’”
She rolled her eyes and murmured, “I wouldn’t want to snoop in your journal anyway. But I might use it to remind you of things you need to remember. We could send messages.”
Vic did not seem excited by the prospect, though he was thoroughly intrigued by the twinned book.
At the end of the presentations, Lyssandra’s father Groxas, a pyro sage, put on a stunning fireworks show inside the dome of the rotunda, using safety explosives he had devised especially for the occasion. The honorees and the crowd were delighted. Sage Polup was so enraptured with the special demonstration that Gwen heard him murmur with excitement, “I never guessed that pyrotechnics could be so precise as to be used inside a building. Perhaps I could develop something similar that would work under water.”