Mother of Wolves (Evalyce Worldshaper Book 1) (9 page)

Kalla glared out the window, brooding and silent. As they fast approached Cryshal, she grew more and more anxious. The mage chafed at the thought of being confined to the Kanlon until their 'training' was complete, not after what they had learned. She wanted to be out doing something.

It was late afternoon when they first came in sight of Cryshal Kanlon. The home of the magi was a skycity, like Sevfahl. Ships known as striders patrolled the Kanlon's airspace. They allowed the ship and wyvern to pass unmolested. Kalla grinned to herself when she heard Aleister's low whistle. Even from this far away it was hard to miss the Kanlon. The four House Spires soared upward, flanking the Great Spire as all reached to embrace the sky. The entire facility was cut from a single massive chunk of dark royal amethyst that glittered in the late afternoon sun. On a bright, sunny day the Kanlon could blind pilots with its brilliance if they weren't careful. The windows of the striders were tinted dark for protection.

Not even the magi themselves were sure of how Cryshal had been created. Its existence predated even the oldest records in the Vaults. Kalla had to admit, the Kanlon was one of the most gorgeous and awe-inspiring sights she'd ever seen. All around Cryshal spread the city that supported it- Port Cryshal.

As the
Stymphalian
overflew the farmlands of Port Cryshal, the radio crackled to life.

“
Argosian airship, make landing at the paddocks at Bensen'gar. The wyvern has permission to hunt within the Bensen'gar game forest. She is remain confined there.
” Kalla made a face at the self-importance in the man's voice as she picked up the radio. From her magister she felt a wave of irritation.

“Acknowledged. We will make for Bensen'gar.” The voice didn't deign to respond, so Kalla shrugged and clipped the radio back in place. She pointed Aleister in the right direction to reach the Bensen'gar airship paddocks. The magister brought the ship to ground and, following the direction of the flagmen, snugged the ship into a long-term hanger. He sighed as he powered the ship down. That they had been directed to the long-term hanger meant that they wouldn't be flying anytime soon. Kalla exited the ship and waited while Aleister set the security system. As an added protection, she wrapped the ship in several spells to keep people from either snooping or tampering with it. Amaterasu was waiting at the far end of the paddocks. When she saw them, she ignored the flagmen and gave several fluttering hops that brought her to them.

“Amaterasu, they want you to keep to the Bensen'gar forest while we are here. You have free rein of the forest, but you must not leave it,” Kalla said.

I understand, Lady Mage. I will go to the forest and wait until you finish your learning. You will come visit?

“Yes, Amaterasu, we will come visit.” Kalla patted the wyvern's snout affectionately and pointed the way to Bensen'gar. Amaterasu took off in a flurry of wings as a pair of men dressed in the livery of the Kanlon approached the pair. They bowed and Kalla nodded acknowledgment.

“Lady kyl'Solidor, Magister, if you will please follow us, we have transport waiting for you,” one said.

A carriage pulled by Rang'moori horses stood just outside the paddock gates. One of the men held the door open and waited patiently as mage and magister climbed inside, then shut the door behind them. The men climbed atop the carriage and Kalla heard one click his tongue to start the horses moving.

Kalla and Aleister stared out the windows at the passing scenery, as fields and forest flew by. Quaint houses dotted the landscape. They dozed, only to be woken by the staccato sound of hooves striking stone and Kalla glanced out the window. Port Cryshal swept around them, engulfing them in a riot of sounds and smells. People scurried out of the way of the Kanlon carriage. Beyond, the Kanlon itself loomed on the horizon.

They reached the gates and clattered into the main courtyard. Kalla politely thanked the servants who held the doors for them. She turned her gaze to the place that had been home for a great portion of her life. Up close the Kanlon was even more awe-inspiring. Night had come and its eerie shape rose above them, towering over their heads like a giant spiky flower.

A mage was there to greet them when they entered the Kanlon proper. He was slightly overweight, with the blond hair and blue eyes common to the Rang'moori. He leaned against an ironwood staff with an
ostrylim
bear climbing the top. Tiny chips of zarconite set for eyes glittered in the light. Kalla dipped a low bow, fist to heart. She shivered slightly, wondering where this man's magister was hiding. A former Ishkaran Nightingale, the man could hide in plain sight and he unnerved Kalla more than even Shingar did.

A dry chuckle brought her attention to Vander, standing hidden until now behind Grosso tem'Solidor. As impossible as it seemed, the flame-haired mage looked even more gaunt than he had the last time she'd seen him. Vander had always been on the thin side, but now he looked ill. His angular face had a drawn, haggard cast to it. The Dashmari's ears were pricked forward and his mane of hair was fluffed in an aggressive manner. Kalla frowned as she noticed that one of his ears looked like it had been shredded and inexpertly healed. The War Mage carried no staff, but here within the Kanlon that wasn't as uncommon.

It was said that the Dashmari were descended from the wolf god, Kituk. She didn't know much about them, save for they were a fierce people whose society was patterned after the great frost wolves. All Dashmari had wolf-like ears, but Vander was a rarity among his people with his flame-colored hair. He strode forward, sharing a look with Grosso as he passed. For just a brief moment he seemed to hunch in on himself, ears relaxing, head held at an odd angle as if he didn't want to meet the Tem's gaze. Grosso scowled at him.

“Well, now. Our errant 'wolf' has returned home.” Vander turned a malevolent, icy gaze to Aleister. “And with a magister in tow. It's about time. Can't have you running around like you're better than the rest of us, now can we?”

Kalla ground her teeth together and refused to rise to the bait. If they had chosen the arrogant Dashmari to be her trainer she was going to be very unhappy.

“You
are
her magister, aren't you?” the War Mage growled. Aleister tensed, his shared irritation growing.

“I am, milord,” he replied in a polite but stilted voice.

Vander snickered. “Right proper, aren't you? Where are your weapons?”

Aleister willed a slender pair of Arkaddian blades into existence.

“Magick blades. Very nice. Very nice indeed. Well, then. I see no reason not to begin this training. By your leave, tem'Solidor?” Vander turned a questioning look to the Tem'.

Kalla frowned again as she detected the faintest shadow of fear in the Dashmari's eyes. Grosso merely nodded. He hadn't yet deigned to speak. Just watched them with a cold, impassive gaze. Kalla couldn't take it.

“With due respect, tem'Solidor, I don't think Vander a suitable candidate for my training. We do not work well together,” she said.

Grosso turned his impassive gaze on her, a look that brooked no argument.

“You will learn that too, then. Vander is your instructor in this matter,” the Master replied in a flat voice. Kalla swallowed her frustration.

“Yes, Master tem'Solidor.”

“Just so. Follow me then.” Vander led the way to a training courtyard within the depths of the Kanlon. Within waited Shingar, dressed in his spiky black armor. Vander gave him a nod and strode off to the side, gesturing for Kalla to join him.

“First things first. We are going to evaluate your magister's initial skill in a mock battle with Shingar here,” the thin Mage said. Alarm flooded her mind, followed by grim determination and, chasing after, the strange unidentifiable emotion. Kalla moved over to Aleister as he nervously eyed Shingar and his war mace. He willed a fox-shaped helm to protect his head.

“I want it noted that I object to this,” Kalla said. For a fleeting moment, the Dashmari's ears wilted and he made the same odd gesture towards her, though it seemed to Kalla a bit more exaggerated. Then it passed and he scowled at her. She ignored him and turned her attention to Aleister.

“I'm going to weave a protective shield around you. These shields are always used in training so that people do not get hurt. The training shields are also designed to freeze you if you are struck a mortal blow.” She concentrated a moment, weaving the shield around her magister. “Just be careful and do your best. This is only an assessment.” The mage gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder and gestured for him to square off against Shingar. She heard him swallow hard as he contemplated the massive man covered in black spikes and leaned closer, whispering in his ear. “He looks like a sea urchin, doesn't he?”

Aleister barked a laugh and went to face his opponent. Kalla stiffened as she realized they were attracting attention. Passersby stopped to watch. Vander explained the rules, then stepped out from the center, standing opposite to Kalla.

At Vander's command, Shingar bellowed and charged forward like an angry bull, swinging his mace in a fierce overhead strike. Aleister darted out of the way, his lack of armor making it easier to move. He ducked and spun, hoping to trip the other magister. He only succeeded in making him more angry and the mace came swinging down at his head again. He rolled away and sprang back up, parrying the next blow with the swords. The Sky Fox found himself at a loss. It had been a long time since he'd done this kind of training and never against someone armored. The skills of an Arkaddian vykr warrior were next to useless here. Back and forth the magisters went for several minutes more before Aleister found his energy starting to flag. He'd done a great job of avoiding the flailing mace, but not been able to use his own weapons any. He stumbled and Shingar pounced, faster than he had any right to be, sending the mace crashing into the Sky Fox's head. The next thing Aleister knew he was on his back, with a crushing, cruel headache. His vision was fuzzy and it sounded like people were speaking in tin cans. He heard Kalla screaming, vaguely felt her anger.

“What the hells happened? Get away from him!” Kalla roared with rage. She sent a wave of air slamming into Shingar, knocking him away from Aleister. Her magister didn't look good. Half his skull looked to be crushed. She used magick to gently tug off the fox-head helm only to find her worst fears confirmed. She whirled around.

“Go get Hauss. NOW! Go get Hauss!” she yelled at the gathered crowd. Several took off running. Kalla turned her attention back to Aleister. She had to get him stabilized. Speaking softly, she urged him to stay awake. He mumbled something incoherent as she gently set her power to work. As she worked she talked to him, trying to keep him awake. So intent was she that Kalla didn't even noticed Hauss was there until the gruff Chief Healer chided her out of the way.

“Enough, child. Leave me tend the wound. Keep his heart and his lungs steady,” Hauss said. The magister groaned and tried to pull away from Hauss' rougher treatment. Kalla started talking again, and Aleister focused one glazed, brown eye on her. The other had a shot pupil and didn't track with its mate.

“Kalla…” His voice was weak, barely audible. “Kalla… here, take this. I…want you to have it.” He pressed a small glass orb into her hand. “Thank you, milady… for this brief reprieve.”

Tears flooded her eyes. “No, Aleister. No. You're going to make it. Hauss is the best. He'll fix you right up, you'll see,” Kalla said in a choked voice.

“I… think… not… Please… keep the orb safe. After the light dies, keep it safe,” he whispered. She looked down at the orb he'd pushed into her hand. Sure enough, it glowed with a multi-hued light that was fast dimming. As she watched, the orb settled on two colors. Green shot with rose. She clutched it tightly in her hand, continuing to murmur softly to the now silent Sky Fox. For an interminable time they knelt there, she keeping her magister's breathing and heartrate even, Hauss working to heal the nuances of the complicated head wound.

Kalla wasn't aware of the crowd surrounding them. Nor was she aware of exactly when Sevrus sin'Wyvaldor and Malik sin'Solidor had arrived. She only dimly registered the commotion behind her as they tried to ascertain exactly what had happened. One thing did sink in and for it she was grateful. If Aleister survived, they were to be turned over to Warryn kyl'Wyvaldor for training. She spared a small smile, despite her worry. Warryn was her oldest friend. He and Shelk would be far easier to work with. At long last she sensed that Aleister's body was stabilizing on its own.

Hauss sat back, motioning for someone off to the side. Four healers in training came forward, with a sling litter. They gently transferred the magister to the litter and carefully carried him to the Healer's Hall. Kalla trailed along behind, still lost in worry. Some called out to her, trying to get her to stop, but she ignored them and followed Hauss.

While she walked she turned the glass orb over in her hands. Unless she was much mistaken, this would be Aleister's fox-ball. She was touched that he had entrusted it to her. The light had brightened somewhat, which meant that he wasn't dying at least. She froze, staring at the colors swirling within, and the import of what part of his essence lay within the gently pulsing orb.

A soft knock on the door woke Kalla. She groaned softly as she straightened. The mage had spent the entire night keeping vigil by her magister's bed. Healers had been in and out all night, checking to make sure that he remained stable. So far, so good, but head wounds were chancy even
if
mage-treated. There was still a very good chance he wouldn't wake or, if he did wake, that his personality wouldn't be the same.

The knock came again, more insistent this time. Before she could say anything, the door swung open and Hauss strode in. Behind him, a guilty looking Warryn lingered in the doorway. The elderly mage chased Warryn away, telling him to return again in thirty minutes or so. Hauss turned to regard her.

The Chief Healer of Cryshal Kanlon was an older and almost constantly grumpy Arkaddian. His hair was no longer reddish-brown, but a mane of cinnamon-tinged silver pulled up in a traditional Arkaddian bob. When it was down, it cascaded past his shoulders in a shimmering silvery waterfall. Hauss had a broad shouldered frame and Kalla knew that many of the women of the Kanlon found him handsome, despite his age. For herself, she couldn't consider him as anything other than a grandfatherly figure. He had been her mentor when she was going through the grueling training to be maester. Despite his gruff attitude the Healer had a heart of gold. She watched as he carefully examined her magister, noting every twitch and frown he made.

“How's he doing, Master Hauss?”

“Everything looks to be in order.” His face softened. “Give it time, child. Give it time. All we can do is wait and see what happens. The others will be in later, to begin the work needed to keep him fit until he recovers.”

She nodded. She'd done her fair share of therapy on such patients when she'd worked with the Chief Healer. A yawn brought that critical, penetrating gaze to her.

“Go get some food and rest yourself, Kalla. You know better. He'll be fine in our care.” Hauss' look told her he'd forcibly carry out his orders if he needed to. She knew he would too. Hauss never made idle threats. He made promises.

Kalla rose from the chair. “Do they know what happened yet? There was nothing wrong with my shield. I've made them numerous times,” she said.

“Indeed. There was nothing wrong with your shield, child. Shingar's weapon was enchanted to break through it, though they still aren't sure how.” The Healer sighed unhappily. “Master Sevrus has locked both Vander and Shingar in the Great Spire. Vander's power has been bound. He is no threat to you any longer. You should know, though, that Grosso is fighting against his exile, fighting against even a permanent binding,” Hauss replied. Kalla ran her hands through her hair.

“No, it does not surprise me… With all respect, Grosso should never have paired me with the War Mage in the first place.”

“I know, child. Go now. Get some sleep,” Hauss said gently. Kalla nodded and with a last glance back at Aleister's still form, she turned and left.

Warryn greeted her further down the hallway and accompanied her to the dining hall. The Rang'Moori mage was the assistant to the Chief Archivist. Warryn ran a hand through his curly blond hair as he hurried to keep up with Kalla.

“I'm sorry, Kalla. I'm so sorry to hear about what happened.”

The mage shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. She fought a losing battle to keep control of her emotions. A thin whimper escaped her and then she was leaning against the wall, sobs shaking her small frame.

“Why, Warryn. Why would they have tried to kill him? What had he ever done to them. He'd never even met them.”

The next thing she knew, someone had swept her off her feet. Through her tears she registered that it was Shelk, Warryn's magister. The big Copper Islander held her easily.

“I don't know, Kalla. I can't answer that. Let's get you to your rooms. We can have food brought up for you.”

Kalla didn't try to fight Shelk. In her current state, it would have been a losing battle. Warryn's blue eyes were full of concern. As they walked he kept up a stream of mindless banter, asking Kalla questions about her travels. She mumbled replies, trying her best not to lose control again. They reached her rooms in Spire Solidor in a matter of minutes. Apparently the servants had already aired them. There was even a fire going in the fireplace. Shelk carefully set her down on the bed and she wiped a hand across her face.

“Thank you, Shelk. I'm sorry you had to carry me.”

“It was no problem, Lady Kalla. I will go and have them bring you something to eat.” Shelk's molasses voice rolled over her, bringing with it a measure of calm. His broad, dark face broke into a grin.

“Do not worry about the Arkaddian, Lady Mage. He will be fine. You would not choose one who was weak. He will get better and then we will teach you properly,” Shelk rumbled. Kalla returned a shaky smile.

“I hope so,” she said. He nodded and strode out of the room in search of a servant, ignoring the bell-pull in order to give Kalla time to compose herself. She turned her attention back to Warryn. “I'm very glad that the Sin' assigned you and Shelk to train us, after…” Her voice trailed off. Warryn grinned.