Mythborn: Rise of the Adepts (22 page)

Silbane realized that they were all waiting for him to say something. He cleared his throat, then looked at his young apprentice. “He has been briefed. We can be ready to leave in the morning.”

He turned to Arek and said, “Tactical reconnaissance. Investigate this army besieging the fortress and look for any signs of the Gate. We will avoid all contact, and if I find nothing, we will return here as quickly as possible.” The lie felt hollow in Silbane’s ears, as he avoided any mention of the lore father’s orders to use Arek to close the Gate.

During this exchange, Arek stood wide-eyed. Before the lore father concluded the meeting, Arek said, “Wait.” The adepts turned to listen. “What if my master finds something?”

Themun’s eyes narrowed. Arek turned to the lore father and strength seemed to flow into him from somewhere, emboldening his next words. “My master said we will return here if we find nothing. But what if we find something? What happens to me?”

Silbane looked at Themun and said, “Arek needs to know more if we are to be successful.”

“You know of your ability to disrupt magic,” Silbane said. “We spoke of its importance when you burst into my quarters, remember?” It was a rhetorical question and Arek answered with downcast eyes and a nod. Silbane continued, “It is not your only power. You also
mask
magic, a necessary advantage if we are to get to Bara’cor undetected.”

Silbane then said carefully, “The lore father believes the Gate is linked to Lilyth’s world, which lies somewhere near Bara’cor. I am to investigate it undetected, hence your involvement.”

Arek’s brows knitted and he asked the lore father, “What if we find this Gate? What do we do then?”

Themun looked at Silbane, annoyance showing in his face. He then looked back at Arek and stated, “Your master has his orders.”

“I would know my
master’s
orders, Lore Father,” Arek pressed. “It will best serve the mission.”

Themun looked incredulously at the young boy and said, “You presume much.”

“If my master finds something and I do not know his orders, I will be a hindrance.”

Before the lore father said anything too harsh, Silbane stepped forward to say, “Arek, my orders are to ascertain if the Gate has awakened and if so, to contact the lore father and relate the situation.” He knew he had just directly lied to his apprentice, something he did not remember ever doing before. The feeling did not sit well with him.

Arek turned to his master and asked, “And if I choose not to go?”

Themun spread his arms and said, “You are one step away from the rank of adept. You are pledged to learn the Way and complete your training in defense of this land. What oath and service awaits you upon the earning of the Black?”

Silbane laid a hand carefully on Arek’s shoulder and said, “I will not let any harm come to you, but you are necessary for me to get to Bara’cor undetected. The fate of the world rests on this.” He smiled at his apprentice, though his eyes remained hard.

Arek thought about that. He looked back at the lore father and said, “I’m not an adept, yet.”

“Something you seem to have forgotten with your impertinence,” the lore father replied. “I had thought you would rise to this service honorably and with courage.”

Arek held the lore father’s gaze. A moment passed, then two, before the boy bowed slowly and said, “My apologies, Lore Father. I did not mean to question your command. Of course I am honored to serve the land.”

Themun looked at the young boy, his face unreadable. To Silbane, Arek’s words and demeanor seemed to indicate not an initiate but someone far older, more arrogant, someone of
power.
Crippling them all was Arek’s peculiar masking, making his inner emotional state nearly impossible to read. Still, he thought he felt a smoldering anger deep within the boy.

Silbane coughed, gently reminding the lore father that they were waiting on his leave.

Themun motioned with his hand saying, “A better response for one of your rank, Initiate. I trust you will behave in a manner reflecting honor upon this Order.”

Arek raised his eyes, meeting the lore father’s gaze with his own. “Of course, I will reflect exactly what I have been taught by all of you.” He then backed away a few steps and stood by the doors, waiting for the other adepts to leave as their rank permitted, before he himself left.

Silbane was the last to leave. As he grabbed the double doors and pulled them shut, he caught the lore father’s gaze. He thought he saw anger in those eyes, but something else too: fear.

* * * * *

Themun waited for the doors to close before letting himself relax. “You heard, my lord?”

From the darkness came a hiss, then a voice growled, “I did.”

The air wavered and from the darkness stepped a massive figure, invisible until now. It came into being like a shadow given substance.

It was a knight, but gargantuan in size, with black plated armor encasing its muscular body. Long black hair fell from a regal face framing an aquiline nose. Out of its back sprang two leathery wings, shining with black scales.

It turned golden reptilian eyes on the lore father and with a voice like low thunder said, “I worried of the Gate, but now Fate twists her rope. Thy hatchling’s death leaves me little choice. Dire circumstance walks hand in hand with each step.”

“Can we not still accomplish both what you wish and what the land needs?” asked Themun. “The Gate remains and Arek is our best choice.”

The dragon-knight turned to face Themun. “What hides it from mine Sight?”

“His masking, my lord. It blankets anything of the Way around him, including himself.”

The armored creature took in a deep breath then said, “I had thought to meet upon Silbane’s petition for passage to Bara’cor, then I felt thy hatchling swallowed, as if a black maw opened in the Way. The Gate may not be the only danger we face.”

“Can we not ascertain that
and
answer the need of closing the Gate?”

“I know not. I must
feel
this Arek, to know where our path lies.” The creature turned and regarded the chamber doors as if it could see through them. “Silbane is strong in the Way.” He paused, surprised that the man had the power to have almost Seen him twice, despite his glamour. He reminded himself again of the role this particular adept was meant to play. “The Conclave prays for his cooperation.”

The lore father looked at the dark-armored dragon-knight and with an ache in his voice said again, “I know we must seal the Gate, but I fear for the lives of Silbane and his apprentice.”

A moment passed, as if the knight weighed the lore father’s words against some other hidden voice, then it rumbled, “Fear will not stay the hand of Lilyth. Already she reaches out, as the shade of thy hatchling portends. She hath many heralds and seeks release.”

Themun nodded sadly, then sat down with the weariness of all the events of these past days on his heart. He was willing to give up Arek, but looked at the dragon-knight and asked directly, “What of Silbane?”

The dragon-knight looked back at the lore father, then looked down. “The Conclave wishes no harm to befall him, but he is a vital part of the tapestry and shall be tested.”

“Tested?”

“Stand steady. It is beyond thy purview now.” He paused, then continued, “I wilt take them both to the Far’anthi Stones near Bara’cor. There, I test Silbane and judge this Arek.”

Themun looked at the dragon-knight, his next words coming out carefully. “And if he is judged wanting?”

The creature shifted its golden gaze, meeting the lore father’s own. “I wilt do what I must, as I have ever done. It will be safer, far from the Isle. Give them thy
Finder.
It will aid me should Silbane’s apprentice attempt to flee. With it, I can finish what must be done.” With that, the creature took a step forward and faded from sight in midstride, as if he had never been.

Themun Dreys leaned back, wishing against all hope Arek would survive whatever judgment the dragon-knight rendered. He knew he could not tell Silbane and had to trust this creature would act honorably, as it had for the near two centuries he had known it.

He leaned back, knowing the mission to close the Gate at Bara’cor had just changed to something far more serious and deadly.

L
EAVING THE
I
SLE

Watch your opponent.

Watch his feet, his body;

What direction does his weight shift?

Use the mountain stare to learn

The entirety of his behavior,

Then strike at his point of weakness.

—Kensei Tsao, The Lens of Blades

S
ilbane waited patiently in the courtyard, mentally reviewing the contents of his leather pack for any forgotten items, while the sun rose white and dazzling in the early morning air. He had left word with his apprentice to meet him at sunrise and hoped the boy had enough sense to do so. That hope was quickly diminishing with each passing heartbeat. Heaving an exasperated sigh, he was not surprised to see Themun and Giridian approaching out of the Hall of Adepts.

Under Giridian’s left arm was tucked an oblong box. Silbane nodded to himself in approval. A good choice, he thought. He offered his palm upraised in greeting to the others, and jutted his chin at the box. “Couldn’t help it, could you?”

“I could not,” Giridian answered in return. It was plain to see this mission did not sit well with Giridian, and Silbane understood that, for they had been friends longer than most men lived. “At least I’ll feel better we’re not sending the boy into harm’s way completely unprotected.”

“Unprotected?” Themun looked at the two and said, “Considering recent events, Arek is better at protecting himself than we realize.” He gave a short laugh and looked past Silbane, his eyes searching, “Speaking of that, where is he?”

“Probably still asleep.” Silbane pointedly ignored Themun’s callous rendition of yesterday’s events. On the whole, it felt inappropriate to be acknowledging Arek’s prowess under these circumstances, and to do so now was at the expense of Piter’s memory. He was glad Kisan was not here.

Giridian stepped forward, thankfully breaking the uncomfortable moment, and said with empathy, “Doubtful. His test is cancelled... a friend is dead. Now he’s leaving the Isle for reasons he never could have anticipated. I imagine he never went to bed.”

“Perhaps—” But then the figure of Arek coming out of the Hall, a bag clutched in one hand and walking staff in the other, interrupted Silbane. Even as they watched, he broke into a stumbling run, plainly trying to balance the many various items with the need to hurry. As Arek slid to a stop, Silbane bowed once and asked, “I trust we did not keep you waiting?”

Arek blushed, stammering out an apology while trying, it seemed, to hide behind his own thin staff. A strap chose that moment to betray him, coming undone and spilling half the contents of his pack onto the hard dusty ground. The apprentice fell to his knees in a vain attempt to gather the various knickknacks strewn at his feet.

“I am sorry, Master. There were a few things I wanted to take with me.” Arek kept his eyes down waiting for a rebuke, but seemed surprised to see all the gathered adepts solemn, as if their minds were a thousand leagues away.

“No matter,” Silbane said softly.

He then turned to Themun, his voice dropping almost to a whisper. “You’re sure?” He heaved a sigh and continued, “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Themun smiled, but there was little humor in his reply. “Would you rather stay here and allow a rift between our world and Lilyth’s to open?” He watched the emotions play across his friend’s face, but the conclusion was inevitable as the setting sun. “I thought not. You and I are not that different. In the end, duty rules us both.”

Silbane didn’t answer that. He just looked at the lore father for a moment before saying, “If two days pass without word from me, prepare Kisan.”

The two locked eyes for a moment as something unseen passed between them.

“Aye, you have the right of it.” A tired smile pulled at the corners of Themun’s mouth. “Besides, I find I do not have the strength to argue with you anymore.” He clasped his friend on the shoulder and said, “I have one more gift for you.” Before Silbane could respond, Themun reached into his tunic and withdrew a small metal wafer, etched with silver and black runes. “I give you this.”

Silbane’s eyes widened at the sight of the lore father’s gift. “The great dragon gave you this, years ago.”

“True, and now I give it to you,” Themun said. “Perhaps it can help you keep Arek safe.” He smiled then, forcing himself to remain resolute in the face of the decisions he knew might already have been made.

Silbane took the charm in his hand and prepared to break it.

Themun put his own hand over the charm, interrupting his friend. “Wait. Use this to keep you and Arek together.”

“But leaving one half on the Isle guarantees our safe return.” Silbane’s eyes narrowed, for what other reason could this Finder be useful?

Themun looked down and said, “And open a portal between the dangers you face and this Isle? I think not. You worried about keeping Arek safe. This keeps you by his side.”

Silbane’s brows drew together, his eyes flicking back and forth as he thought through the reasoning. Themun’s stance didn’t make sense unless one thought about the worst case scenario. In that situation the Finder would most certainly be used to escape, potentially bringing some lethal pursuer to the Isle.

Perhaps, he convinced himself, the lore father is right. He grudgingly nodded, saying, “I’d not want to endanger the children here.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder and motioned to Arek to get ready. He missed the look of sadness Themun quickly blinked away.

Giridian took that moment to step forward and relieve himself of the burden under his arm. Looking up at Silbane he said, “Master Silbane, this is for Arek.”

Knowing what was in the box, Silbane nodded his approval and watched as Giridian traced a symbol in the air. The box flashed blue once then, with a barely audible click, opened. Giridian carefully swung the cover back, revealing a mirror-bright sword, straight with double keen edges. Embedded in the hilt was a small emerald radiating a faint green glow. Smiling, the adept lifted the sword and accompanying sheath, sliding the blade home.