CHAPTER SEVEN
Teg’s heart leapt so hard that her hand flew to her chest. She couldn’t keep from jumping a little as she turned. Excuses raced through her mind: “We didn’t take anything. Check the box inventories.” “We’re in a hurry. If you don’t mind . . .” “My friend’s pocket? What are you talking about?”
She turned. A man who looked vaguely familiar was emerging from one of the side offices. He laughed uncomfortably.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought I recognized you.” He paused. “I remember! We shared an elevator ride a few days ago. You were taking an old lady home to her apartment in the same building where I live.”
Teg mentally cursed that her darker skin and mixed-race features were distinctive among Taima’s predominantly white population. She remembered how astonished the inquisitors, used to the variety of appearances Over Where, where even in the same family different animal heads were common, had been that such things as skin color would matter.
Of course, if you wanted to blend in, doing purple highlights on your hair wasn’t exactly the best idea.
She forced a weak smile and put out her hand. “Of course! I remember. We held the elevator for you. You said you were a new resident.”
The man beamed, obviously pleased to be remembered. “That’s right! I’ve looked for you since, but hadn’t seen you. What an amazing coincidence to meet you here.”
Relief flooded Teg’s system so intensely that her knees actually felt weak.
“Are you associated with Jaxine Museum?” she managed.
“Indirectly,” her persistent acquaintance said. “I’m a new hire in paleo-osteology. Oh, I forget myself. I’m Heath Morton.”
Heath Morton was clearly hoping to get her name, so, reluctantly, Teg said, “I’m Tessa Brown. Archeology. I’m on sabbatical this term. I stopped by to photograph some material for a possible paper. This is Peg Gallegos. She was helping with the photography.”
Heath Morton shook hands with both of them, then Teg said, “I’m sorry, but I promised Peg I’d get her back before her next appointment. If you would excuse us?”
“I hope to see you again,” Heath said. “Do let me know if you’re coming back to do more research. I’d love to chat.”
Teg made a few vague promises, signed them out, and prayed to high heaven until, at last, they were out in the brisk winter air. Her heart didn’t stop beating overly fast until they were safely outside, and well into the walk home.
“I believe you have an admirer,” Peg chuckled. “I saw him glancing at your hand, making sure there wasn’t a wedding ring.”
“Please!” Teg said, hurrying her steps a little faster. “Dr. Morton’s new to town and probably lonely. I bet he hits on every woman he meets.”
“I should have told him about the book club,” Peg mused. “That’s a good way to meet people.”
“Don’t you dare,” Teg threatened. To put an end to the conversation, she lit up a cigarette. That reminded her to buy another carton, as well as treats for the left-behinds, when they picked up Meg’s prescriptions. While Teg was in the drugstore, Peg went to the pizzeria next door and bought them each a large slice of pizza, which they devoured as they walked back to Teg’s house.
“I wish we could bring some pizza back for the rest of them,” Peg said, popping the last bite into her mouth, “but it’s probably not a good idea. No microwave for reheating. Cold pizza’s good, but I’m not sure that’s the best first experience. Maybe I’ll need to figure out how to make some. Difficult without a proper oven, and the one in Slicewind’s galley is just too small.”
“Anyhow, based on what we just picked up, Meg watches her cholesterol,” Teg added. “It would hardly be fair to tempt her, right?”
She glanced at her watch. They had plenty of time before Felicity was due, but she’d feel better when this was over and they were safely back Over Where. And in any case, she was all too aware of the passage of time to relax. They’d been over here less than six hours, but in the other world over a day and three quarters would have gone by. Xerak was probably ready to come through after them, and that would never do.
Thought and Memory were asleep on Teg’s bed when they came in. Thought opened a lazy eye and sniffed to check if they had pizza for her. When she saw no treats were forthcoming, she resumed her nap. Memory’s only response was a hardly visible ear twitch.
Peg gave her phone a quick check, reassured herself that nothing catastrophic had happened in the half hour since she had last done so, and nodded to Teg.
“Let’s go back Over Where!”
They stepped back into the other world to find everyone gathered around one of the long tables in the Library’s entry area sharing a meal. Xerak leapt to his feet, nearly knocking his chair over backward.
“Did you get it?”
For answer, Peg put her hand in her pocket and came out with the enshrouding container holding the Nest.
“Everything went smooth as silk,” she reported proudly.
A very few minutes were spent telling their tale, and even those were clearly too many for Xerak. He listened, pacing back and forth, ears twitching, tail snapping. Peg had clearly intended to use telling about their adventures to tease Teg some more about her admirer, but she took pity on the young man.
“What now?” Peg asked instead. “Do we put the three parts of Ba Djed together?”
“Wait!” Ohent shook her head vigorously, making the copper coins on her veil jangle to Brunni’s dancing delight. “Do we know what will happen if we do that?”
Xerak replied, “I don’t care. Sapphire Wind says it needs the full power it will gain from a reassembled Ba Djed in order to trace Uten Kekui. The verse Teg recited when she and the other mentors arrived promised us the Library would be where we would find if not solutions to our inquisition, at least something of significant aid. This have proven true for both Grunwold and Vereez. At last, my turn has come.”
“Verse?” Ranpeti asked. “I believe Vereez mentioned one, but I don’t believe I’ve heard it.”
Aware that Xerak was fuming, Teg recited:
Curing one ill who is not sick
Finding the victim of a cruel trick
Easing an ache that cuts to the quick
All of this and more you will find
After you pass through the doorways
Of the Library of the Sapphire Wind
“Mine is certainly an ache that cuts to the quick,” Xerak said fiercely, “and has for over a year. Now, with the help of Ba Djed, Sapphire Wind may be able to help me find what will help heal that ache.”
“Nonetheless, wizard lad,” Ohent persisted, “that doesn’t answer my question. What will happen when we reassemble this Ba Djed of the Weaver? Will the Archived suddenly appear among us? What sort of new powers will Sapphire Wind command? I don’t think it’s unfair or unwise to ask such things.”
Meg’s lips parted, but Sapphire Wind was the speaker. “I will not unarchive those I have stored until I have prepared for their coming. As for what powers I may gain? Why do you fear me so, Ohent? Did I not fail to stop you and your associates when you robbed me over two decades ago? Surely this is proof that I am neither omnipotent nor omniscient.”
“You weren’t pissed off then, either,” Ohent replied tartly. “We slipped in under your guard, and you weren’t aware of us until everything went wrong. Does that mean you resent us any less now? I don’t think so.”
“I could say that I am grateful to you,” Sapphire Wind replied, “for showing me a weakness in my defenses. I assure you, should the Library be reopened, should I continue as custodian, I will not make that mistake again. As for now, I have no desire to harm any of you, for you have been my benefactors. I am as eager as Xerak to see Ba Djed of the Weaver reassembled, for then I will be as I was always meant to be.”
“I believe Sapphire Wind is speaking honestly,” Meg added in her own voice. “It is both more and less complex than you may believe, but it is without human malice.”
“Now,” Xerak growled, “no more delays.”
The lion-headed wizard drew on gloves, then removed the Spindle from its enshrouding container, and set it on the table. He snapped out his hand for the Nest in a fashion that reminded Teg of a surgeon demanding a scalpel. Peg spilled the Nest into his palm from the enshrouding container into which they had put it back at Jaxine Museum. Xerak threaded it into place on the Spindle, then held out his hand for the shining bronze Bird.
Ohent paused. “I wish I felt sure this wasn’t going to create more trouble. If you’d had my dreams these last twenty-some years, you might feel differently about the wisdom of playing with this thing.”
“I have waited long enough!” Xerak’s words came out in a full lion’s roar.
Chuckling to herself at some joke only she understood, Ohent reached into her bodice and pulled out the little brocade bag in which she kept the Bird in its container. She wrapped her fingers tightly around the bag, as if in a final embrace, then put it into Xerak’s palm. With no hesitation at all, he took out the Bird, then threaded it on as a cap to bind Ba Djed together. Finality in every motion, he set the reassembled artifact on the table.
After Ohent’s paranoid outburst, Teg fully expected something dramatic to occur. Sparks at least. Colored auras. Flames. But nothing happened. The assembled Ba Djed of the Weaver just sat there. Xerak spoke to the air.
“So . . . Here it is, Sapphire Wind. Three pieces reunited as one. Tell me where I can find my master!”
Peg looked at him. “Say, please?”
Xerak stared, his eyes so wide that the whites were visible around the gold. He leaned on the table, claws gouging the wood.
Peg raised her eyebrows. “Well?”
Xerak began to wheeze, then to laugh, a genuine laugh, hearty and full-throated. Then he turned to Meg and made a bow so low that the trailing ends of his mane swept the floor.
“Please?”
The smile was Meg’s, stern yet approving, the smile of a librarian to a child who has remembered not to shout in the Quiet Rooms. The voice was Sapphire Wind’s.
“Again, let us use the Font of Sight.”
They trooped in, taking what were becoming their accustomed seats within the pearlescent sphere. Even Kaj drifted in to join them, leaning against the doorway. But Ohent’s attention—as was everyone else’s—was focused on the Font of Sight.
The image that took shape above the chalice was of a jagged rock formation set in the center of a powerfully swirling whirlpool. Above the rock formation, obscuring its peak, were dark clouds from which lightning crackled. After they had time to accept the unwelcoming fury of the location, the image pulled in for a closer view, showing that what from a distance had appeared to be natural breaks in the formation were actually the outlines of an irregularly shaped door.
“No wonder I couldn’t find him,” Xerak whispered. “That place doesn’t exist!”
“Wait!” Sapphire Wind called into the uproar that followed. “Please. I have more.”
Silence fell, broken only by Brunni, who whimpered, disturbed by the reaction of the adults. The image over the Font changed, showing a tall building, vaguely familiar. Teg realized that she’d seen it as an impressive landmark on the skyline during their visits to the city of Rivers Meet.
“That’s the Spiral Tower at Zisurru University,” Vereez said. “Uten Kekui-va can’t be holed up there, can he?”
The image broke, dissolved. The next thing they saw was what looked remarkably like standard safe deposit boxes, if such were painted a flashy teal and elaborately ornamented with arcane glyphs, rather than being flat metal, painted drab grey. The boxes were ornamented with two different sorts of glyphs. The first type, inscribed slightly above the box itself, Teg’s translation spell rendered into numbers and letters: clearly the code designating location.
“Xerak,” Grunwold grumbled, “if you forgot to check your mail all this time, and there’s a message from your master there, telling you he just went home to visit his sick mother, I’m going to hit you—hard.”
Xerak shook his head. “That’s not my mail box. That’s a rental. Look!”
A ghostly collage of glyphs was becoming visible. Various glyphs began lighting in sequence. Xerak muttered a string of syllables the translation spell left unintelligible, but this time, rather than a spell, Teg fancied it was a particularly colorful profanity.
“So, all you need to do is push those symbols in order?” Peg asked hopefully. “I was always good at Simon.”
Xerak ignored her, but Ohent replied, “I wish it was so easy. That’s a wizard lock. Unless you can shape those glyphs, you can’t work the combination. I’m no expert, but I can tell you that those are far above beginner grade.”
Meg pulled out her journal and offered it and a pen to Xerak. “Here, copy those down.”
Xerak nodded thanks and began doing so. Vereez helped, reciting the different glyph names and noting their colors. Fortunately, Sapphire Wind could “replay” the image, so at least they were certain that they had transcribed correctly. When they’d done a final check, Xerak let loose a gusty sigh.
“Thank you, Sapphire Wind, Vereez. That should do it.”
“Are you going to explain what we saw?” Meg asked mildly. “Or is this some wizard’s secret?”
Xerak looked curiously at her. “You don’t know?”
“I don’t. I am loaning Sapphire Wind my vocal cords. Sometimes I have flashes of insight that I suspect are the Wind’s thoughts bleeding over into my own, but I am as ignorant as the rest of us mentors—and very curious. What did you mean about that place in the first vision not existing?”
Xerak moved as if to reach for his flask, then stopped himself. “It’s a place I’ve only seen described, a place wizards seek if they wish initiation into the deepest of secrets. Most agree that it doesn’t really exist, that it’s a state of mind, not an actual place.”
“So Uten Kekui-va went there?” Grunwold asked. “I wonder why he didn’t tell you?”
Xerak shook his head. “I have no idea.” But there was something odd in his tone that made Teg wonder if he had a suspicion.
Vereez said quickly, so quickly that Teg wondered if Vereez also wondered what Xerak might be hiding, “That second image looked a lot more attainable. We know where Zisurru University is. We can sail there in a few days.”
“But can Xerafu Akeru work the combination?” Ohent asked, her tone not quite taunting. “Back in the days when I was an ‘extraction agent’ I learned about such locks. There is no way to get around them. Neither counter-spell, nor physical violence. Forget that lovely magical key you found. It won’t work either. And failing to open the lock or trying to take shortcuts can have devastating consequences.”
“Such as?” Peg asked.
Ohent laughed without humor. “Anything from killing the caster outright to draining all available magical energy to create curses, illness, disability, or idiocy in the one who failed to undo the spell correctly. The caster sometimes is permitted more than one attempt because, after all, even wizards can make mistakes. Sometimes, however, only one attempt is permitted.”
“That’s major,” Grunwold said, awed. “Did any of your team ever learn to undo those?”
“Not a one,” Ohent answered with finality. “The closest we came to beating one of those locks was a job where we physically removed not only the lockbox but also the wall surrounding it. Never did learn if the fellow we did the job for ever got it open.”
Xerak had been absorbed in his own thoughts. Now he turned to Ohent.
“I don’t know if I can open it. I certainly couldn’t have a year ago, but my search for my master forced me to learn many things. During the first months following Uten Kekui’s disappearance, I stayed in his home, immersed myself in study, thinking that his vanishing might be a test of my diligence. Even after I felt certain that I needed to seek him, not wait, I continued to advance my studies. I’m willing to make the attempt.”
He looked at Grunwold. “Wanna give me a lift to Rivers Meet, pal?”
Grunwold grinned at him. “Sure. I mean, how could I miss watching you blow yourself up?”
“We’re coming, too,” Peg said. “I think this is part of the whole mentoring thing.”
“Xerak, you helped me on my inquisition,” Vereez stated in a tone that brooked no disagreement. “Don’t you dare think you’re leaving me behind. Besides, haven’t you promised to help me learn magic? What sort of apprentice would I be if I abandoned my master when he was searching for his own master?”
“Not to be less comradely,” Ranpeti said, “but if Nefnet and Sapphire Wind will continue to host us, Brunni and I will stay here.”
“I will remain as well,” Ohent said. “Even in the short time we have been here, Nefnet’s treatments have done me a great deal of good.”
“Mother,” Kaj said, “you won’t mind if I go with them?” He looked at the three inquisitors. “If you’ll let me, that is. I—until I met you, watched you—I didn’t realize it, but I’m held back, as well. I promise to follow orders and all that, just like I did when we went looking for Brunni.”
Vereez froze, her lack of expression showing more intensity than any cry of welcome or refusal could. Xerak shrugged. Grunwold studied Kaj.
“If our mentors agree, sure. But don’t try to pull anything stupid.”
Kaj met Grunwold’s gaze squarely. “Not stupid. Not opportunistic. Look . . . I feel that somehow, I belong with you three. Maybe it’s because our parents were all idiots together, but I do.”
“Yeah,” Grunwold agreed. “We at least share idiot parents. That’s true. Ohent keeps talking about what’s owed her, but you’ve had it worse than the rest of us. We at least grew up in comfort and blissful ignorance.”
Teg wondered at Grunwold’s seemingly easy acceptance of his rival for Vereez into their company.
Does Grunwold love Vereez so much that he’s willing to do anything to see her happy? Or does he realize that Kaj absent is a much bigger temptation to Vereez than Kaj present? Or does Grunwold really feel a bond with Kaj, reluctant as he might be to admit it? More than the others, Kaj and Grunwold share parents who have paid for years for mistakes made when they were too young to be wise.
The company left early the next morning. Brunni cried when Grunwold gave her a farewell hug, brightened when he promised to bring her something pretty. Nefnet, Ranpeti, and Ohent seemed to have no regrets at being left behind. Teg wondered if Meg would have liked to join them. In some indefinable way, she seemed happier when they were at the Library.
However, Meg showed no tendency to linger when they went outside of the doors of the Library of the Sapphire Wind. The rickety ladder they’d used for their first several ascents and descents between the cleft into which the Library had dropped and what had been the main plaza had been replaced with two new, stronger ladders made from peeled saplings with the rungs lashed into place. Teg was reminded of the ladders used by the Pueblo Indians of the American Southwest.
And for good reason. Here, as there, the ladders serve two purposes: making it easier to go between elevations, and making defense easier, because the ladders can be quickly removed.
Slicewind rested on the plaza pavement, near the statue of Dmen Qeres, the Library’s founder. As they approached the sky sailer, the eyes painted near the bow seemed to widen a bit, as if the ship had been drowsing, catlike, in the sun. Grunwold accepted a foothold from Kaj, then vaulted aboard and lowered a boarding ladder.
“All aboard for Zisurru University!” Heru squawked from where he was perched on the crow’s nest. “Batten down the hatches!”
“Not a great idea, you idiot xuxu,” Grunwold said affectionately, grunting a little as he hauled a bag of taga fruit, picked from a tree they’d come across when picking herbs. The fruit resembled grapefruit in size, Jackson Pollock’s art in color, and were sweet-tart, more like lime than grapefruit. Vereez loved taga fruit juice, which was doubtless why Grunwold was going to all this trouble.
Peg took charge. “Okay, me buckaroos. All three boys in the bow cabin. You won’t all be sleeping at the same time, so you can work out how to hot bunk it if you must. We mentors will keep the stern cabin. Vereez, you keep the little cabin near the mast.”
“I’d be happy to share with one of you ladies,” Vereez said almost too quickly, clearly asserting that her having the only single didn’t mean she wanted Kaj to come calling. “Or if I’m on duty, and someone wants some privacy, I’m fine with the space being used for that.”
Fleetingly, Teg considered suggesting that Xerak could bunk with Vereez, since he was uninterested in women and could chaperone as well, but decided against that; although Grunwold and Kaj were getting along well enough, it was probably not a great idea to push the relationship.
“Thank you for your offer, Vereez,” Meg said. “It’s not that I’m not very fond of all of you, but there are definitely times I would like to be alone.”
After that, there was a flurry of activity as fresh fruit, herbs, and fish gathered during their layover in the vicinity of the Library were stowed. Peg recruited Xerak and Vereez to help cut up vegetables, then help assemble the shish kabob-style meal on a skewer they would cook above deck on a little hibachi-like grill for dinner that night. Xerak tried to slink away, but Peg was determined that the young people help with routine chores, and Xerak in particular was inclined to pay little attention to what he ate.
If he was a twenty-something in our world, he’d be the type of academic who eats cold condensed soup out of a can while leaning over the sink, his mind in the clouds.
Vereez simply didn’t know how to cook, and had only gradually accepted that meals did not appear by magic. Teg decided to set a good example, and pitched in, so that, even with seven people to feed, the task was completed relatively rapidly.
After Peg put a couscous-like grain on to soak, she dismissed her assistants. Since the day was fine, everyone gathered above decks, the three mentors settled on the benches built over the stern lockers. Peg pulled out her knitting, and Meg her journal, from which she’d sliced the pages showing the pattern of the wizard locks and given them to Xerak, who was now secluded in the bow, apparently deeply immersed in study.
Grunwold turned the wheel over to Vereez, so he could show Kaj what the various lines did, and teach him bits of nautical terminology, so he’d know what to do if called upon. Kaj was a good student, but from time to time Teg noticed him gazing at the surrounding sky in evident wonder.
Sky sailing is still new and wonderful to him, newer than to those of us who at least grew up in a world with airplanes.
Instead of resuming her notetaking, Meg spoke softly, as if half to herself. “Now that Ba Djed of the Weaver is intact, Sapphire Wind plans to try training one of the Library’s guardian creatures to act as spokesperson: possibly an efindon, that is, a lizard parrot. Efindon seem to share with the parrots of our world a facility for imitating speech, although they are not actual speakers, such as xuxu, like Heru. In this way, Sapphire Wind will be able to talk with its new residents more easily. It’s possible that I will be freed from interpretation duties by the time we return.”
“Are you sorry?” Peg asked.
“A little,” Meg replied. “It has been interesting. However, I won’t mind being spared all the suspicious glances. Honestly! You’d think I’d been possessed by a demon.”
“Weren’t you?” Teg asked dryly.
Meg chuckled. “Well, maybe possessed, but not by a demon. Sapphire Wind is really very nice—especially given all it has been through. It has been like a soul without a body. Now it can begin to rebuild.”
“Did it give you any sense of what it’s going to do about the Archived?” Peg asked. “I don’t suppose they can remain filed forever.”
“Technically,” Meg replied, “I believe they could, especially now that Ba Djed is restored and Sapphire Wind can draw on its power. Morally, though, that’s another issue.”
“And one that, I suppose, isn’t our job to solve,” Peg said. “Still, I feel as if the fate of the Archived is tied up in some way with what our inquisitors are doing, even if just as a loose end.”
Crewing Slicewind was definitely easier with Kaj’s help. He knew nothing about sailing, but those magnificent muscles weren’t just for show. Teg tried not to shadow Vereez but, as far as she could tell, Kaj wasn’t making a fresh play for the young woman. Indeed, he seemed to be trying his best to demonstrate his better qualities, including stepping in to help with the washing up and other such routine chores, something all three of the inquisitors—coming from privileged backgrounds as they did—constantly had to be reminded about.
Teg noticed that he often hung about while Xerak was putting his two apprentices through their training, and wondered if he had some latent ability or if he was simply bored.
After all, as I know all too well, when you’re used to a full-time job, leisure time can get old, and Kaj doesn’t seem to be much of a reader, and he can only spend so much time carving. At least he’s joined in weapons training. I wouldn’t be surprised if before long Grunwold decides to show him some basic sword moves.
Rotations for night watch were shifted to omit Vereez, since she worked hard during the day both on PT for her wounded arm and magical training. Therefore, one night Teg found herself sitting beneath the stars with Xerak.
“I don’t mind if you light up,” he said.
Teg pulled out her pipe and rubbed her fingers over the elaborate carvings that turned the stone bowl into a representation of a peony-like flower. “I’m thinking about quitting smoking. I notice you’ve been cutting back on your drinking.”
“Yeah . . .” Xerak checked their heading, spun the wheel, then set what Teg couldn’t help but thinking of as the autopilot. “Hey, Teg, from something Vereez said, I’ve gathered you’re good at keeping secrets. I have something I need to get off my chest.”
“Is it something that will put someone else at risk?” Teg asked. “I don’t keep that sort of secret.”
“No. It’s about what happened before my master disappeared. I’ve never told anyone—not even Kuvekt-lial or any of the others I asked to help me find my master. Maybe it’s not important to anyone except me, but now that we might find Uten Kekui, and might at least have an idea what happened, I need to talk about it.”
“Sounds like you’d better,” Teg agreed. “I know you’ve been reviewing those glyphs and have them down cold, but that’s going to be a dangerous spell to work. Better you don’t have anything distracting you.”
Xerak checked Slicewind’s heading again, then slouched down to sit on the deck. Even when he was comfortable, he didn’t say anything, so Teg messed with getting her pipe lit, figuring the bit of business would make him feel less watched.
Eventually, his voice low, Xerak started talking. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t always a drunk. I always liked a drink—I won’t deny that. I started young. My parents were always entertaining both buyers and sellers, and early on I learned that while my parents couldn’t be fooled, most of those they hosted didn’t realize if their wine had a little water in it.
“I think the first time I got really trashed was with Grunwold, actually. A harvest festival. I still don’t like beer much . . . That taught me about limits. But when I started studying magic, I also learned that there was another side to those limits.”
“Hang on,” Teg said. “I’ve been wondering about magical studies. From what you told Vereez, her parents may have actually led her to believe she had less talent than she does. Grunwold, on the other hand, accepts pretty calmly that he has no talent at all. Do they test you in school?”
“That’s right. Magical ability is a lot like having another sense, but it’s also a lot like . . . I don’t know, physical ability? Basically, if you don’t have it, you can’t do it, but how it manifests varies a lot. Some people are great at running races but lousy wrestlers. Some have a great eye for shooting a bow but are fumble fingered with a sword. Like that, but different.”
“You’re extraordinarily talented, though,” Teg said. “Right?”
“I am. Even when I was so young I could barely talk, I could see magical energies. By the time I was walking, I was beginning to manipulate them—clumsy stuff, hardly even worth calling spells, but my parents decided I’d better get training and soon. First a tutor, then classes as part of my regular education, then the plan was that I’d go to Zisurru University, probably as an early admission. But I met my master and everything changed.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever talked about how you met Uten Kekui-va,” Teg said, wanting to learn as much as she could about this enigmatic figure, especially now that it seemed they might actually meet him.
“He came to my school to visit one of the faculty—a friend of his who taught language arts. I was late with an assignment and went by his friend’s office to drop it off and make my excuses. Uten Kekui saw something in me. He asked his friend a few questions. That led to my being offered a chance to study with him the following summer.
“My parents were very pleased. Although he was pretty much a hermit, Uten Kekui had an amazing reputation. Even better, his fees were minimal, just enough to cover room and board. The class included me and three other kids my age.
“At the end of the summer, my master went to my parents and asked if I could study full-time with him. He promised I would be taught all my subjects, not just magic. He implied that there would be other students but, in fact, there were very few, all older than me, the oldest being a girl who was going to enroll for advanced study at Zisurru University the following year.”
Xerak glanced at the stars as Teg herself might glance at her watch, and sighed. “I’d love to tell you about those early years, but I need to skip ahead if I’m going to get to what’s bugging me. Two things, basically. One, I learned that if I drank just enough to be almost drunk, my ability to read magical energies, and so manipulate them, jumped. Two, I fell in love.”
“With your master,” Teg said, voicing a conclusion reached long before.
“That’s right. I wanted so much to please him, to be the best not only of his current students, but of any student he’d ever had, that I started drinking regularly. Uten Kekui wasn’t a fool. He caught on and called me to his office to tell me that I had to stop getting drunk or he was sending me home. I was devastated. I told him that I loved him, that I was only doing it to impress him.
“He told me that he knew I loved him, but he didn’t love me—not that way, as a son, maybe, but not the way I wanted to be loved. Then he reminded me of his ultimatum and dismissed me. I was crushed. And I was angry. I don’t get angry very often, but when I do, it’s bad.”
Teg tried blowing a smoke ring. It came out pretty well.
“So I’ve noticed.”
Xerak laughed. “Yeah. Well. So what did I do? I went to my room and got completely blitzed. I had a confused idea of working some sort of charm or setting back time, maybe both. I can’t remember now. Eventually, I passed out. When I woke, I had the mother and father of all hangovers. That’s why it was over a full day before I learned that my master had vanished.”
“Uten Kekui-va didn’t tell anyone else where he was going?”
“There wasn’t anyone else there at the time. I think that’s why he picked then to dress me down about my drinking. Leelee, that senior student I mentioned, came back first. She helped me search, and eventually insisted we report Master missing. After a week or so, the other students left. I stayed.
“First I quit drinking cold turkey and applied myself to my studies. I was certain Master had left to make me show him what I could do. Stupid, I know, but how couldn’t I believe that his vanishing didn’t have something to do with our fight? Then . . . Well, you more or less know about how I spent something like a year searching for him before I decided to go to Hettua Shrine. On the way I teamed up with Vereez, then Grunwold. And here we are . . .”
Teg nodded. “I can see how believing your argument led to Uten Kekui-va’s disappearing—especially now that we may be catching up to him—would distract you. How do you feel about your master now?”
“You mean, do I still love him?” Xerak sighed. “More than ever. It’s stupid, but I can’t let go.”
“He didn’t ever—encourage you?” Teg tried to put images of a younger, fluffier Xerak in the hands of a pedophile out of her head.
“Not by word or deed,” Xerak replied firmly. “A couple of the girls had crushes on him, too, but I watched—he never did anything with them either. I think that’s why I dared dream.”
“You still hope, don’t you?” Teg said. “That he was waiting for you to grow up or something like that.”
Xerak’s furred face couldn’t blush, but the way his ears fluttered and whiskers curled gave much the same impression.
“You can’t let thoughts like that distract you,” Teg said. “If what Ohent told us about these fancy magical locks is true, losing focus at the wrong time could kill you.”
“I know,” Xerak said. “That’s why I thought I’d better talk about this. I find myself hoping, envisioning our reunion. It’s . . .”
“Vereez had similar dreams about Kaj,” Teg said bluntly, “and look at her. There’s a time and a place for romance and this most definitely isn’t it.”
Xerak nodded, then he asked shyly. “Have you ever been in love?”
Teg started to say, “A lot of times,” then she shrugged. “I thought I was. Once I almost got married, but I called it off. I realized I was getting married to the idea that I should be married by that time in my life. I think my fiancé was relieved. Since then . . . Some flings but nothing that would have sent me searching for more than a year to find someone who told me flat out he didn’t love me.”
Xerak winced. “I deserve that. Thanks for listening, Teg. I think it will be easier for me to concentrate now.”
“You’re welcome,” Teg said, getting up and stretching. “And don’t worry, your secret is safe with me, but I bet the other mentors would understand.”
Xerak laughed. “I know. Peg probably has a kid who had a love affair just as hopeless. Maybe that’s why I didn’t tell her. I want to hold on to the illusion that I’m somehow unique.”
Since they didn’t plan to remain in Rivers Meet any longer than was necessary for Xerak to try his hand at opening the locked safe deposit box and for Vereez to do some shifting of bank accounts, they didn’t secure a hotel room. Instead, they flew directly to Zisurru University. This dominated a large area of land across the river from the portions of the city they’d visited in the past and, unsurprisingly, given that it specialized in magical lore, had an area for “parking” a peculiar variety of magical vehicles.
Grunwold opted for a riverside slip, both as less noticeable and as less expensive than an aerial one. Although no one talked about it, the threat offered by Zarrq and Inehem, especially here in a city where they had much influence, weighed on the company’s minds. Even Heru seemed to have caught the mood, for the xuxu did not complain about being left behind on guard, although he did hint that treats would be appreciated.
Teg had the fleeting thought that maybe the reason Kaj had come along was because he hoped to make some easy cash by turning Vereez over to her parents, but as he made no effort to leave the group, she dismissed the thought as ungenerous—although she still kept an eye on him.
Xerak had stated that he didn’t plan to visit his parents until after he’d opened the lock box, a statement Teg couldn’t decide whether to take as an expression of confidence or of Xerak’s concern that seeing his parents might weaken his resolve.
As she examined the campus from behind her lynx mask, Teg decided that the wizards’ university was very much like the many campuses she’d visited during her varied career. The familiarity made the times when “real world” rules were violated all the more startling. Oddly, these violations of the norm had nothing to do with the student body.
Or I suppose it’s more accurate to think “the variety of heads and tails and skin patterning on the students’ bodies,” Teg thought. Actually, the variation is coming to seem so normal that when we go back home, I’m going to find just one type of head sort of bland.
The administration building to which Xerak led them was one of the more outlandish campus structures, as if working in an exotic environment would compensate those who had to do dull work.
“Pixelated soft-serve ice cream?” Peg suggested, leaning back to look up at the multistory structure.
“Blue-raspberry flavor,” Meg agreed, “with electric lime sprinkles.”
Xerak grinned and shook his head. “I didn’t understand much of that, but I’m glad you seem impressed and astonished. You’re supposed to be. If you’ll come this way . . .”
He indicated a swirl around the exterior of the structure, Like, Teg thought, a hard candy coating applied carefully to only part of the ice cream. In violent lemon. Although I think Peg’s analogy breaks down when you notice that people are riding the swirl.
“We’ll go up that way,” Xerak said. “The ‘will-call’ boxes are near the top, since they aren’t much in demand.”
The ride up was a great deal of fun in itself. It also provided a terrific view of the sprawling campus. When they reached the top, a few sightseers were clustered on an outdoor viewing platform but, when their group passed through the entrance into the room holding the lockboxes, they appeared to be the only people on the entire floor.
The reason for the lack of sightseer interest became immediately apparent, for the room had no windows. The room was round, with no hint of the tapering structure of the building’s exterior. Instead, the walls were lined floor to ceiling with banks of bright teal boxes painted with glyphs. The middle of the room was dominated with larger boxes, but these banks were only chest high, so it was easy to see in all directions.
Xerak walked briskly around to confirm that the room was empty, then said, “I’ll put up a ‘do not disturb’ on the door to the outside, so no one will come in while I’m undoing the lock. Given how dangerous these locks can be, it’s a common precaution.” When he had done so, Xerak glanced at the notes he’d taken based on the vision in the Font of Sight. “The box we want is over there.”
Peg asked, “Won’t other people be annoyed if they can’t get in to check their mail?”
Xerak shook his head. “Not really. These rental boxes aren’t used that often. The main post office is in the student center.”
In the empty room, their footsteps echoed on the polished stone tiles, and even their breathing sounded loud. Xerak paused in front of one on the small boxes and studied the top line of the glyphs, comparing them against his notes. As he did so, Teg realized that the collage of glyphs that had been visible in the Font’s vision was completely invisible.
“This box is the one,” Xerak said. “You all might want to sit down or something. This could take a while.”
Implicit in his tone was that they should back up and give him some room. They did so, settling into a watchful tableau. Since Xerak had locked the door, Teg shoved her mask up on top of her head. Peg and Meg followed suit.
Xerak began etching the first glyph into the air, light following the tip of his index finger and hanging in the air, glowing a bluish white. The intricate shape reminded Teg of Celtic or Norse knotwork. However, it soon became apparent that while those designs existed in only one dimension, the figure Xerak was making existed in three—or more. Xerak’s final gesture was a complex loop, concluded by his pulling his arm back.
Like the reverse of dotting a period on a written page, Teg thought.
As soon as Xerak gave the signal that he was done, a spark of light ran from the beginning of the figure, through the twists and coils. When it reached the end, the entire shape flared, then revealed itself in a gentle blue-white glow.
Xerak immediately started the next glyph. This one was a pale, yet still rich, violet. Its shape recalled elaborate intertwining arabesques. Once again, after Xerak signaled completion, a spark ran through the design.
Confirming he got it right.
Xerak was on his third glyph when Teg had a sudden insight.
These aren’t just glyphs, they’re elaborate three-dimensional mazes, and Xerak’s sketching them from memory. If he gets even the slightest twist or turn wrong, then they’ll blow. I wonder if one failure takes out all the rest?
By the time a shimmering gold glyph had joined the blue-white, violet, and gold, Xerak was visibly sweating, damp patches soaking his tunic along his flanks. After indigo-touched-with-sky and sea-green-into-storm had been added to the sequence, Xerak was panting and leaning hard on his spear staff. Drops of sweat were running through the strands of his mane.
Poor kid. He’s got the worst of both sorts of bodies when it comes to shedding excess heat. How many more? One, no, at least two. He’s not going to make it! He’s too young, too stressed . . .
Teg didn’t even consider. She pushed herself up from where she’d been sitting on the floor and clapped her hand onto the side of Xerak’s throat, feeling the light fur over the skin where his animal head merged with his more human body. His pulse was racing, jumping erratically.
“Easy, kid,” Teg said. “I’m here. Don’t worry. I won’t let you fail.”
She sensed rather than saw movement behind her, and a moment later Vereez’s hand, cool and dry, lightly tipped with claws, touched Teg’s own throat. Teg could feel the energy channeling into her and she concentrated on sending the enhanced mana to Xerak as she might have the sun spider amulet.
Fixing her gaze on the glyph maze Xerak was working—this one a glorious ruby red with silver sparks—Teg imagined her energy and Vereez’s flowing into a current that flowed into Xerak and then out into the glyph. By the time Xerak began the final glyph maze—a psychedelic one in oranges, greens, and pinks . . .
. . . Like a Jefferson Airplane poster . . .
. . . Xerak’s heart rate was no longer so crazy, and his breathing was evening out. While he still leaned on his spear staff, he no longer seemed about to fall over. Indeed, he finished the final curve and loop with a certain jaunty panache before pulling the “knot” tight.
When the final spark had run its course, the entire series of glyphs vanished and the door to the safe deposit box popped open. Xerak reached inside and removed a many-times folded and sealed piece of heavy parchment. Then he gave Teg and Vereez a little bow, and smiled, his whiskers curling.
“That, my dear friends,” he said, almost purring, “is why so many wizards have apprentices.”
Then he swayed, his eyes rolled up in his head, and he fainted, crumpling into a soft heap on the floor.