Lightgiver (2 page)

Osmund laughed so hard Jez and Lina found themselves joining in. It was a few minutes before anyone could speak again.

“The two of you don’t change, do you?” Osmund asked.

“If you’re asking if he’s managed to grow out of being an uncultured fisherman’s son, then no,” Lina said. “He doesn’t change.”

“Says the girl who can’t even get dressed without half a dozen people to help her.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Lina said, trying to hold in a laugh. “Today, I only had five.”

They all laughed again before heading for the
Quarter Horse
, the inn that had become their favorite place to take meals. No sooner had they entered the inn than Lufka, the old innkeeper, ushered them to a seat and called a serving maid to bring them each a bowl of stew and a loaf of fresh bread. It was an old dance, and Jez knew that when they left, the innkeeper would insist on giving their meals for free. Jez would argue, and eventually one or the other would prevail. Jez had saved the life of Lufka’s son on his first day at the Academy, and since then, the innkeeper had always greeted him and his friends with joy.

“So, can you control him?” Jez asked once they’d been served.

Osmund leaned in close and spoke with his voice pitched low. “You don’t control something like Ziary. Even when Marrowit put him to sleep, he was still aware, and he came back worse than ever. If you hadn’t been ready to bind him...” Osmund shivered at the memory. “Sharim being there was the only reason he didn’t attack you right away. It took him a long time to calm down enough for Galine and the others to deal with him. I can’t control him, not really.” He glanced at the scar beneath Lina’s eye before turning away. “I can influence him. I can stop him from trying to kill everyone who breaks the smallest rules. It’s a balance, though. He’s not buried as deeply, and it’ll be easier for him to come out when he detects true evil.”

Lina tensed but showed no other signs of discomfort. Jez was impressed. Her scar had been caused by Ziary’s sword, but the weapon hadn’t just cut her flesh. It had shown her herself, all her shortcomings and flaws brought to the forefront. She’d seen herself as a petty creature unworthy of life, and it had taken her a long time to get over that. Her scar had never entirely healed, and not even magic had been able to remove it.

“Are we safe?” Lina asked.

Osmund smiled. “As long as you haven’t committed any murders, I think you’re fine.” His face grew serious. “You haven’t, have you?”

“No.” This time, Lina did flinch. “Of course not.”

Jez tried to hold in a chuckle, but Osmund didn’t bother. He laughed uproariously. Lina glared at him, but he waved her off. “You’re fine. Unless we’re actually in the presence of demons, he shouldn’t be able to come out on his own.”

Lufka brought their food, and Jez was surprised when he took a bite and tasted fish. It was a rare treat on the mountain. He didn’t recognize the type and gave a questioning glance to the innkeeper. Lufka gave him a wide smile.

“I’ve heard you speak of your father’s cooking. I’m afraid I can’t measure up to the stories you tell, but I thought you’d appreciate this. I’m afraid I couldn’t get anything from the sea, not unless you wanted any of that dried garbage. The lake near Hiranta has a few species that aren’t too bad. I hope you like it.”

“It must’ve cost a lot to bring it all the way up here without spoiling.”

“Now, don’t you worry about that. I wouldn’t dream of charging you for this.”

“Lufka...”

“I insist, young sir. A few free meals now and then are the least I can do.”

“I would have—”

The innkeeper waved off his protest. “I know you would’ve done it for anyone, but the fact is you didn’t do it for anyone. You did it for my Kilo.”

“Thank you, Master Lufka,” Lina said before Jez could respond. The innkeeper bobbed his head and left.

Jez glared at her. “Why did you do that?”

“Because you were about to get into another argument about whether or not you were going to pay, and the two of you were going to go back and forth for a quarter hour instead of asking Osmund if he learned anything in the valley.”

Jez bit back his reply and nodded. He turned to Osmund. The large boy had cocked his head.

“Did you spend much time with Welb?” Jez asked.

Osmund nodded. “Some. He spent a hundred years finding the balance between his pharim nature and his beast form. It’s not exactly what I needed to do, but it was close. You want to know if I asked him about Sharim?” Jez nodded, but Osmund shook his head. “The Beastwalkers are probably the order of pharim that know the least about the abyss. What you need is a Lightgiver.”

Jez raised an eyebrow. “Do you happen to know where I could find one?”

“Why not just summon one?”

“A pharim?” Jez asked incredulously. Then, he leaned back in his chair and pursed his lips. “A pharim. That might actually work. Why didn’t I think of that?”

Osmund’s grin practically went from ear to ear. “Isn’t it obvious?” He looked from Jez to Lina. He sat up straight and thumped his chest. “I’m clearly the brains of this group.”

Lina tossed a crust of bread at him, and it bounced off his forehead. They all laughed, but Osmund’s idea had already begun to take shape in Jez’s mind. It made sense, and he had attempted something similar before, when he’d tried to summon a Beastwalker. He doubted one of them would be able to help. There were seven orders though, and if any would know how one could escape from the abyss or how one could be stopped from doing so, it would be the Lightgivers. By the time they left the inn, Jez was already trying to figure out the ritual that would summon a pharim of knowledge.

CHAPTER THREE

“You want to summon a Lightgiver?”

Master Linala was incredulous. Her green eyes were as hard as emeralds as she gaped at Jez. She gave him a look so piercing that, after a second, he found himself looking away and instead scanned the innumerable volumes crammed into the shelves behind her. Though he had a little experience with summoning, he didn’t recognize any of the books. He wondered if one of them contained the ritual he needed, but he doubted it. Anything that dangerous would likely be in the secret library beneath the building, or in Linala’s head. As the master of the dominion of knowledge, she was a master summoner and would be one of the most knowledgeable people in the world about the Lightgivers. If she didn’t know how he could succeed, she would at least know where to find that information. Finally, he met her eyes again and nodded.

“I need knowledge of the abyss. I could try summoning demons and asking them, but if they knew how to escape, they would’ve done so already.”

She sighed and shook her head so slightly her raven-black hair didn’t even ripple. “Did it occur to you that if this Sharim knew how,
he
would’ve escaped by now?”

“No.” Jez banged his fist on her desk. She raised an eyebrow, and he took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. “I’ll admit it’s possible, but if he had gotten out, I think we would know about it. He’s not going to stay hidden for long.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Jezreel, Master Besis has spoken to me about this. He says you’re obsessed.”

“It’s not that,” Jez said.

She smiled. “This mortal demon you’re so afraid of, he’s gone. You yourself saw him flee into the abyss. There’s no coming back from that.”

“You can’t know that for sure. No one has studied the abyss enough to be certain. If anyone would know how to get out, it would be him.” He took a deep breath. “Him and the Lightgivers.”

“I’m sorry. Even I’ve never summoned a pharim.”

“But you could if you wanted to.”

She snorted. “I doubt it. Pharim aren’t like demons. Demons
want
to leave the abyss. That makes it easier. Without some sort of connection to the pharim, you’d never summon one.”

He hesitated for a second. “I have one.”

She gave him a slow nod. “Yes, perhaps you do. Nonetheless, I won’t craft a circle for you. The working is too risky, especially for the summoner.”

“I think I know how to do it on my own,” he said. “At least I know enough to try. It wouldn’t be as good as a circle you would make, but I could do it.”

She searched his face, as if trying to find some sign he was bluffing, but he rarely bluffed. He was too bad at it. She must’ve seen something in his expression because she shook her head again.

“I don’t suppose it will help if I tell you not to.”

He gave her a small smile but wiped it away when she scowled. Still, he refused to allow his uneasiness to show on his face. “Not unless you’re also going to bind my power.”

“I could ask the chancellor to expel you for this.”

Jez kept his voice level. “That wouldn’t stop me from trying. I’d just have to make a circle out of dirt and rocks. I’ve done that before.”

She was shaking her head before he finished speaking. “No, you’re too strong. If you made the slightest mistake, you could summon something else, equally powerful but with no way to bind it.”

He snorted. Something like that could only happen with a hopelessly incompetent summoner. While his attempt at a similar working six months ago had failed, those had been special circumstances. That wouldn’t be the case this time, and though he couldn’t be sure he would succeed without help, he was at least relatively certain he could avoid a disaster bad enough to hurt anyone. Relatively sure.

The knowledge master let out a breath and nodded. She instructed him to leave the room. He nodded and complied. Her office was in the same building as the practice area, so he headed in that direction to wait while Linala gathered whatever information she thought necessary. She’d undoubtedly taken the hidden entrance to her secret library. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to know about it, but he’d had the need to get into the library a few years ago. He’d never told her about that, but he’d always kept that information tucked away in case he needed it.

After a few minutes, Linala came into the practice area carrying a leather-bound book. She had put on a belt with several leather pouches hanging from it. Since they were between terms, the practice area was empty, and without saying a word, Linala led him to one of the greater summoning circles that had been embedded in the ground. She took a patch of white sand from her belt and started spreading it over the circle. Though the one in the ground had been crafted with exacting precision, it was more the outline of a true circle. Key runes were missing, the ones that would change depending on the manner of creature being summoned.

Linala flipped through the volume in her hand and drew the missing runes in the sand. After a few minutes, she handed the book to Jez. He flipped through it, but he didn’t recognize the language. Even the diagrams seemed off, though he hadn’t studied summoning enough to know why. A couple of times, she took the book from him and referenced several of the pages. Once, she undid what she’d drawn and marked down different runes. At first, he thought she’d made a mistake, but after examining the page she’d been looking at, Jez realized this circle actually required the erasing of runes. The complexity staggered him. He’d always been strong, but Linala was something else entirely. She was a master at work.

After a quarter hour, Linala stood and flipped through the book again, pausing briefly several times and checking it against her work. It was orders of magnitude more complex than anything Jez himself could’ve managed, and it would work far better too. Finally, she nodded and looked at him.

“Are you sure you want to do this? Lightgivers might not be as overtly dangerous as some of the other orders, but that doesn’t mean they’re safe to summon.”

Jez nodded, but his eyes stayed locked on the circle. He had never imagined anything could be so perfect. Every line was precise, and every angle was sharp and well-defined. He itched to pour his power into it. “You can leave if you want. That way, if something goes wrong, you won’t have a pharim angry at you.”

“Thank you, but no,” she said without hesitation. “You know what to do?”

Jez nodded and got into place at the focal point, an area just outside the edge of the circle. He raised his arms and uttered the words needed for this kind of working. The runes, both the ones in the sand and those embedded in the ground, emitted a soft yellow light that brightened as his words grew louder. The circle served as a vessel, but the power feeding it had to be his, and his mind had to supply the direction. He cast out his thoughts, searching for some sign of one of the pharim of knowledge. In some way he didn’t understand, this working reached across miles and worlds to find its target. He could see fog in his mind. Every once in a while, he thought he saw faint images, but they faded after mere moments. He poured more power into the circle and uttered a single word.

“Lightgiver.”

The fog in his mind pulsed and thinned, but there was no sign of the figures from before. He tried again, but his power fizzled and writhed within him. Time got away from him as his mind fruitlessly sought out a target. Finally, he opened his eyes and let out a long breath. His arms cracked as he lowered them. The sunlight streaming through the windows said he’d been trying for at least an hour. He looked at Linala and sighed.

“It didn’t work.”

“And it should have. Your execution was right. With the amount of power you used, you should’ve had some result. Is this truly important?”

Jez cocked an eyebrow. “Yes.”

“Really and truly? This isn’t just some boyish desire for adventure?”

Jez gave her a level look. “Sharim summoned a high lord of the pharim against his will.”

“That should be impossible,” she said.

“I know but he still did it. What’s to stop him from doing one more impossible thing and escaping from the abyss?”

Linala pursed her lips. “Vinur.”

Jez blinked. “What?”

“Some of the journals of the previous masters of knowledge spoke of dealing with a particular Lightgiver. His name was Vinur.” She narrowed her eyes. “That’s not information I share lightly, but I’m well aware of what you’ve accomplished in your time here. I trust you’ll use it wisely.” Her gaze hardened. “And discretely.”