In Pursuit Of Wisdom (Book 1) (46 page)

Shaking his head, Kyle followed. 
This is madness.  I am so tired of Magi making this up as he goes.  I’m tired of his attitude, tired of following him around, and I can’t believe Marik is gone.  He’s obviously going to catch up with us.

Kyle reached up and put his hand on Magi
’s shoulder.  “Hey, can we talk about this?  We need to plan this out a bit.  Marik had the money pouch, remember?  How are we going to pay for a room, and for how long, and which inn should we start at?  There must be a hundred alehouses in this place, each seedier than the next.  For the last time, what is your plan?”

Magi didn’t say anything for a few seconds that seemed to stretch beyond awkward.  Finally, he sighed. “So many questions.  You may not like all the answers.  The path I’m following is my own, and my plans I shall keep to myself.  As I said before we left
—I am resolute in pursuing one thing:  the truth.  Stay, help, or go, Kyle, the choice is yours.  But I am tired of this conversation.”

Kyle felt like his face had been slapped.  “You don’t trust me?  After everything we’ve done together?  What is wrong with you?”

Magi felt an unnatural anger begin to well up inside him.  “I don’t trust anyone, Kyle.  A man I had considered my father has seemingly betrayed me, and the father I never knew apparently lives.”  His voice started to rise.  “I don’t know who he is, I don’t know what my real bloodline is, I don’t know why my father never sought me—but then again, maybe he did.  I don’t know why Marik wanted to reach this city and meet him before me, I don’t know why he would put us to sleep to do so.  I don’t know why he left, where he’s going, and I don’t know when or if he’ll return.  I don’t know anything.  I don’t know who I am.  And I don’t know who you really are.  So no—I don’t trust you, Kyle.   If you were in my cloak, you would be a fool to trust anyone either.”

Magi knocked Kyle’s hand off his shoulder with ease.  “Perhaps you are following me for Marik,” he said, advancing menacingly.  He
shoved Kyle hard, causing his normally athletic friend to trip over his cloak.

You selfish, ungrateful, spoiled, sonofabitch.  Just because everything comes easy for you… 
Kyle was angry—and he had never felt more alone in his life.  He stared up at Magi, playing so many scenes of their life together over in his mind:  Gaust, Lionel, Sindar, the Tournament, Fostler, and on and on. 
What has happened to you?
  He also thought of Tarsh and Nugget—
I wish they were here. 
But most of all he thought of his sister, Kari. 
I wish you were here most of all.

Lying in the street, gazing up at Magi towering over him, he recalled the prophetic image of him falling away from his best friend, and the Ol’ Shakoor’s words:
climb if you wish. 
Finally getting his emotions under control, he said, “Okay, Magi.  This is me growing up.”   Kyle rose to his feet and began backing away, slowly, one step at a time, staring intently at Magi, no longer recognizing his former best friend.

I will find my own path up the Staircase.

Chapter 17:  Seek, And Ye Shall Find

~Kari~

The Great Whirlpool drifted throughout the waters where the Sea of Love and the Sea of Hate comingled. 
The passage around the maelstrom was the worst this time of year.  A destroyer of many a ship, the Whirlpool served as a gateway of sorts, both East-West and North-South.  Seasoned captains had ways of navigating it—typically they avoided it altogether.

Markus was indeed a seasoned captain, and his ship
, the
Queen’s Arrow,
was renowned for her speed.  He would not risk her anywhere close to the heart of the maelstrom.  He made a course that skirted the edges of the continent.

“M’lady
—we’ll see you ’round Elvidor.  Hug the shoreline, we will.  Markus knows all the shallows—you’ll see.” He grinned to show an accordion of teeth.  He would have been an attractive man but for the hard sea living.  A sun-leathered face was wrinkled beyond his years, but he had lively eyes. 
Many a barkeep has fallen for your eyes over the years, I imagine.

Kari walked the deck and looked out over the Sea of Sorrows.  With fair winds, they flew across the water, and were
already through the Straits of Holstine.  Rather than deal with the Elves, they decided to keep sailing to the Eastern edge and make port at Rookwood—Phillip seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of gold to keep Markus happy.

The three weeks at sea with Rebecca and Phillip could not end soon enough, as far as Kari was concerned.  Rebecca insisted on being the one to deal with
the Elder’s unwelcome advances.  “I’ve met many men like Phillip—let me handle him.”

T
hey also agreed that Kari would not be left alone with Phillip.  Ever.  Not that he didn’t try, but Rebecca was
extremely
protective.  The crew had started calling her ‘Mother Becca,’ and Kari couldn’t help but smirk, even though the Lady Ranger was hardly seven or eight years older than her.  However, she was grateful for the other woman’s company.

It was on the 23
rd
day at sea when word came that Rookwood’s banners, flapping from immense turrets, had been spotted from the crow’s nest.  The smell of salt and fish was even stronger in port than it was on the open deck during their voyage.  Kari found it difficult to contain her excitement. 
I am going to a city!  Not just any city…I am going to see Rookwood Castle!

Markus pulled Kari aside as she
prepared to disembark.  “If you and yer ’ma, that Ranger, happen to get an audience w’ the Queen, I’d offer ye some free advice.  Your patron, Elder Phillip, has the look of a man out for himself.  Don’t know his game, and it ain’t none of me business, given the pretty gold he drops in me pouch, but you be careful, Miss Kari.  And number two—don’t get too comfortable in that old castle.  It’s a den of trickery and deceit, if you ask me.  The Queen’s fair enough if you can get a second with her, but them people treat us on the Western seaboard as second class, see if they don’t!  We live in a Dark World—you’d do well to remember that in that fancy castle.  Oh, and tell the Queen that Markus got you here in twenty-three days!”  His mouth opened wide into a hearty guffaw as he left Kari to mull over his advice.

Rejoining
Phillip and her ‘Ma’, the ever-present Ranger, she looked back at the ship one last time before turning her attention to the enormous capitol city of Elvidor and the seat of power on the continent: Rookwood.

It was a marvel to see.  The elevation began to rise almost immediately after leaving the ship, and the first shops and roads snake
d upward from several spots along the port.  The port itself looked like it could be easily defended—it was narrow.  Rocky cliffs guarded most of the coastline, but there were some shallows that opened up to sea level for massive ships to dock once inside.  But the entrance was not wide, and ships could be scuttled to block it if need be.

They followed one path up from the ship, w
ith guard towers erected at different intervals on either side of every road.  Archers were stationed in these, and could rain arrows down onto anyone who wished to march an army toward the city center and the actual castle itself.  To the south they saw the massive expanse of Filestalas—the ancient forest homeland of the Elves.  Long-standing treaties between the Elves and Men saw that the southern flank was always well protected.  The mountains west of the city would make an assault from that direction nearly impossible, even if an army could sail across Lake Calm.  Of course, most of the defenses were to the east (the Sea) and north—which opened up the eastern half of Elvidor.

The city itself was massive
—entire communities and shops nestled into the low but steep mountain landscape, filling the valleys, with twisting paths between everything.  But the sight that Kari could not take her brilliant green eyes off was the castle itself.

Situated atop a small mountain,
Rookwood dominated the landscape, sprawling across the hillside like a mammoth tree in a tiny flowerpot.  Looking at it, Kari had the impression that the castle had always been there, and that the mountains had been built around it.  Five large towers could be seen, each blending into the mountainside cleverly.  A beautiful stone road snaked down from the main gate into the city below and down to the sea.  Past the city as the path continued to climb, it began to fall away steeply to either side as it switched-back up the mountain.  The stone road was maybe ten feet at its widest, and at regular intervals was flanked by guard towers that were visibly manned by at least a dozen men each.  The city might fall, but Rookwood?  Fury could rain down from those towers, from that height, and easily take out the path, leaving would-be invaders to scale the mountain.  A large, violet banner flew from the tallest of the towers, and though it was too far away to see the details clearly from the docks, Kari knew the crest of Rookwood:  a soaring eagle with five peaks under its spread wings.

So
, this is power. 
She turned her head slightly to look at Phillip, and could have sworn his mouth was watering.

~Magi~

Huddled in a chilly corner of an unremarkable alehouse named
Stoney’s Drink
off one of Paragatha’s many side streets, Magi sipped a glass filled with dark, spiced tea.  He was drinking for warmth tonight, keeping his wits clear.  He had already put seven people to sleep earlier that evening, robbing them under the cover of darkness to fill his pouches with copper, even a little silver.  It was easy, though it hardly yielded much money—nobody travelled at night with a lot of coins it seemed—but by his sixth victim he was beginning to enjoy it.  He even began feeling entitled to their wealth.  The seventh was a lady who he was convinced was up to no good, and he gladly relieved her of her bulging sack of coins.
  Probably a night lady
, he told himself.  The only person in the alley was a blind beggar, hands outstretched, whispering “Alms….alms….alms….” Magi dropped a few coppers into a wide-open sack and kept about his business that evening.

As he sat in
Stoney’s,
sipping his spiced tea, he called over a barmaid by pulling back his cowl to reveal the handsome face behind it, auburn hair tumbling to his shoulders.  With a fake smile and a little extra silver, the maid bounced away to deliver a short message to the innkeeper.  A few minutes later a tall, too-skinny man with a lean nose and a nasty scar across his cheek walked over.  “Name’s Bruno.  Bruno Stoney.  I understand you wanted a word, traveler?”

Magi gave a
small, polite nod. “I am looking for a little information.  Would you happen to know the whereabouts of an old jeweler by the name of Blacksmooth?”

Bruno rubbed his scar delicately and finally broke his eyes free of Magi’s gaze.  “
Can’t say that I do.  There are several gem masters in town.  Could I refer you to one of them?  I know the honest ones.”  He smiled pleasantly at his guest.

Magi finished his tea and took out a silver piece and a gold.  “That’s ok
ay.  I’m looking for this particular jeweler.”  He tossed the two coins at Bruno.  “For the tea…and for any future information you might have.  I’ll be in town awhile.  I’ll stop by periodically—if you find out anything, there’s another one for you.”  He gave the same polite half nod and left.

He stopped next into
The Spotted Cat
, and ordered more tea.  After a few minutes, the innkeeper came over and said he’d never heard of a man named Blacksmooth.  The third inn,
Dragon’s Kiss,
yielded no better results.  But he did pick up a useful piece of information.  The innkeeper, a fat lady with foul breath who never provided her name, told him to go look in the Great Library.  “A scribe or chronicler might know where a man by that name might have lived.”

Magi thanked her and left his customary gold piece with the promise of another if they found anything.  Of course he planned to check the library, but that was a job better suited for the day, and he still had time to visit at least one more tavern.

Knowing that he was going to bed down for the night soon, he picked one of the better inns for his last stop.  On a large tavern near the city center, he saw The Queen’s crest proudly displayed in one of the front windows.  It must have been close to midnight as Magi entered
The Royal Steed. 
Compared to the other inns, this one was almost luxurious.  Dozens of knights were drinking and singing, and several fire pits warmed the massive common room.  This looked to be the inn of choice for travelling merchants who did business with the Rookwood castle to the south.

There wasn’t nearly as many corners or tables tucked away as there were at the other places, but Magi f
ound a spot that wasn’t on top of any knights or guards.  He decided to get a glass of wine, knowing that this would be his last stop for the night.  The barmaid had a sultry, dramatic look about her, highlighted by smoky-grey eye shadow and pouty, cherry-red lips.  She winked at Magi as she left to take his order. 
There are some women who feel the need to paint themselves like gypsies, I guess.  I can’t imagine what Kari would look like with all that nonsense on her face.
  It was the first thought of Kari he’d had in a long time.  He put it out of his mind.

Turning back to the barmaid, Magi just smiled his typical half nod and then turned his attention to the rest of the room.  There certainly were an unusual number of soldiers here.  It was after his second glass that the innkeeper finally came out, looking somewhat perturbed.  “Look, as you can see we’re doing a fair business tonight, and I can’t be jumping at every patron that wants a word.  Be quick—what do you need?”

Magi didn’t pause.  “Information, good sir.  I am looking for
a jeweler who may or may not still be in business in Paragatha.  His name is Blacksmooth.  Have you heard of him?”

The large man who oversaw
The Royal Steed
put both of his thick, hairy arms on the back of a chair opposite of Magi while he thought.  He stared off into the air for a second, and all the sounds of the tavern seemed to press in on Magi for that brief moment.  The place was loud, and the drinking and singing soldiers didn’t help.  As a particularly raucous chorus wrapped up, it seemed to snap the innkeeper back to attention and he fixed Magi with a stare.  “I don’t know any jewelers by that name.  But years ago there was a mage, not a True one, mind you, but a decent enough fellow in town who went by that name.  Lost his wife and son and disappeared.  Never knew what happened to him after that.  We live in such a Dark World, you know?”

~Magi~

My father was a Mage. 
Magi turned those words over in his mind as he left
The Royal Steed
hastily.  He pulled his cloak around him close, the wind was biting, and snow was beginning to fall.  Magi walked briskly and conjured a glow ball for extra light.  The city was typically well lit, but at this late hour even the glow balls dimmed, and the part of town he was heading for was a bit off the main road.

Wide awake, he considered all the implications of what he had just heard…it was no
wonder Pilanthas wanted him to meet his father. 
Lost his son
…that sweaty slob of an innkeeper had said that this mage named Blacksmooth had lost his son. 
The tavern owner didn’t know me and had no reason to lie.  And he certainly didn’t make it sound like this mage
died. 
Maybe it was a coincidence; maybe it’s a different Blacksmooth.
 
And maybe I’ll invent a spell to teleport across the sea.

It certainly felt like he had been lied to by his former Master—at least in some manner, and Marik’s insistence on seeing his father first only created more doubt in Magi’s mind.  Even if Marik had told him some truth, he felt like he hadn’t been told the
whole
truth.  Everything he thought he knew, he was questioning:  his lineage, his parents, Marik’s story of how Magi had come to him, even the source of his own talent.  Everything.  All he craved at this moment was truth. 
At some point, you and I will have a long conversation, Marik.