She Who Has No Name (The Legacy Trilogy) (13 page)

‘Then that is interesting.  He chose wisely to conceal the fact.’

Samuel was surprised by this.  ‘Do you mean you agree with him?’

‘Not wholly, no, but it is fortunate in many ways that he has concealed the spell for so long.  Such a Great Spell has many connotations.  I need to think about this.’  Master Glim looked quite concerned by the revelation.  ‘Have you had your dinner yet?’

‘No, not yet.’

‘Then go fetch yourself something from the larder before your stomach devours the rest of you.  I’m sure we have at least a few more hours before the Paatin come shouting at our gates.  Get some decent sleep in one of the vacant cottages and we can discuss this more in the morning, unless of course you’d rather get back to the palace?  You look as if you haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in some time.’

‘Even when I do sleep, my dreams keep me awake most of the night.’

‘Oh?  Then we have that to talk about as well.  Go on now.’

Samuel acceded and left Master Glim’s room.  As he left, he heard music begin behind him as his old teacher began strumming his lute-like instrument.  He had seen the man play it often, but had never bothered to ask of its origin, for it was the only one of its kind he had ever seen.  The noise that came from it was lilting and harmonious, with each note melding into the others.  Glim had asked his students to take the time to master any instrument of their choice, for he told them that such practice would benefit their studies but
,
between his troubles and his various adventures, Samuel had just never found the time.

Old Master Sanctus was fossicking merrily in the larder and had himself a platter of grapes balanced in one hand and was fiercely protecting a long
,
crusty loaf in the other.

‘Young Samuel!’ he declared with a crackled voice.  ‘I thought you were long dead, my boy.  You always seem to be proving me wrong, lad and—at least sometimes—pleasantly so.’

‘Thank you, Master Sanctus,’ Samuel replied as politely as he could, for he was not sure whether he had just received a compliment or an insult.

‘Well, don’t just stand there with your mouth hung open like a blowfish in a bucket.  Get some food into you.’

Samuel needed no further prompting and took a wide
,
ceramic plate from the shelving and began looking for whatever could
tempt his palate
.  Despite the grim situation the Empire now found itself in, the Order’s shelves remained as excessively stocked as ever.

Master Sanctus finished gathering what he needed and tottered off into the night with his armful of food, chewing ravenously on a length of sausage.  Samuel took his time loading his plate, savouring the thought of his dinner, tossing the occasional morsel into his mouth as he gleaned the room of whatever caught his fancy.  Once prepared, he started back out into the night with his hefty load in one hand, setting towards the rooms.

He was only halfway along the path and back towards the cottages when something scratching in the darkness caught his ear.  He paused, peering into the blackness to where he perceived that something sat: a patch of darkness itself on the grass.  It was only his
sight
that alerted him to the fact that it was a magician lying on the grass and another moment to recognise the familiar aura of the man.

‘Master Sanctus!’ Samuel gasped and dropped to his knees beside the quivering old man, spilling his plate upon the grass.  He turned the stricken magician face up and the light caught Master Sanctus’ deathly pale face.  He seemed to be caught midway through a silent scream, and blood and vomit covered his lips and chin.  ‘Master Sanctus!’ Samuel called again, shaking the old man firmly, but Sanctus was as stiff as a board, as if already locked in rigor mortis. 

Gathering his wits, Samuel began fumbling for his ring, intent on throwing a spell onto the old magician.  He only hoped to hold onto some vestige of his life force, but it was already too late.  Something had eaten away at Sanctus’ insides and all his vital organs were ruptured and riddled with holes.  A great black wave of shadow, an ill omen to Samuel’s magical
sight
, was already creeping across the old man’s life force and devouring it in calamitous gulps.  With one final shudder
,
the magician coughed out a spray of black fluid and fell dead.  A long
,
wet
,
rattling sound came trundling from his throat as his final breath clawed its way free.  He remained stiff and staring at the stars above him, as if caught in awe at their splendour.

The stink coming from the old man was vile and Samuel felt his own dinner rush up into his mouth.  He vomited on the grass several times, until nothing further would come out.  Even then
,
he had to fight back the sensation to retch once more.  Wiping the spittle from his lips, he could see the same dark fluid in his own vomit.  It could only have come from something he had eaten.  With a terrible realisation, he looked at the food that lay scattered around Master Sanctus and beside his own plate.

‘
Poison
,’ he whispered and the sense finally reached him to shout his warning aloud.  ‘There’s poison in the larder!  Poison!’ he called out.  ‘Don’t eat anything!’  He called the warning several times into the dark school grounds, but no one came running to help him or to see what the matter was.

Finally gathering his wits, Samuel made for Master Glim’s room as fast as he could.  He hammered his fist onto the door with what felt like futile strength, and then went in without waiting for a reply for he could already feel that something was dreadfully wrong inside.  As he burst into the room, the magical lanterns set onto the walls blazed into life as if trying to burn away the stubborn shadows altogether.  These spells had been tied to the opening of his door, or Samuel would have been left in the darkness, but the scene they illuminated was terrible.

Master Glim was splayed out on the floor, barely alive.  He was looking towards Samuel, with the same ugly black fluid smeared across his face.  He had set a flurry of spells about himself to keep the poison at bay, but already Samuel could see that the man’s energy was waning.  His organs were full of perforations and his magic was the only thing holding his insides together.  Still the poison was continuing to gnaw at his innards and such spells were barely able to slow the progress.

‘Master Glim!’ Samuel called, sitting beside his teacher and lifting the man’s head gently onto his lap.  ‘What can I do?’

Glim’s eyes rolled up to look at him and he coughed up more of the fluid before Samuel could wipe it away.  ‘Nothing...Samuel,’ he managed to say.  ‘It seems I’ve been poisoned and it seems very effective...designed especially for magicians, I would wager.  I think I am going to die.’

‘Master Sanctus is already dead.’

Master Glim raised his arm and clutched at Samuel’s collar.  ‘You must go warn the others before anyone else eats from the larder.  The source of the poison will be there.  Throw the food to the floor.’

At once, Samuel realised the old teacher was correct, but he could not bring himself to leave his dying friend.

‘I will save you first, Master Glim.’

Master Glim began to shake his head, but Samuel ignored his pleas to leave.  Instead, he drew the Argum Stone from his pocket and plunged his finger into it without a pause.  His being flooded with unimaginable power and it took some moments before he could gather his wits and focus his thoughts once more upon the dying man on his lap.

‘What’s this?’ Master Glim managed to ask, for even in his dying state his magician’s curiosity had the better of him.

‘This is the Argum Stone.  It was not destroyed, as I said, but changed into this ring.  It is very powerful.  With it, I am sure I can save you.’

‘While I would be grateful, Samuel,’ Master Glim said,
his
spittle flying into the air, ‘and I would normally be intrigued by such a find, I must warn you against using such magic.  You, most of all, should know that.  Remember what it did to Ash.  Too much power is dangerous for any man to bear.  You especially, Samuel, should be careful with the power you wield.’  He took a moment to gather some strength.  ‘I have seen you at your worst and I remember the bloodlust on your face when you killed Captain Garret and his men.  There is something terrible at your core, Samuel, and you should do all you can to starve it, rather than feed such a thing.  Power is corrupting and this kind of power will only see you headed down the same path as Ash.  It would be terrible for you to become like that which you most despise, Samuel.  The world does not need another such devil.’

‘I don’t care, Master Glim.  I will save you.’

Master Glim then did something quite strange.  His body seemed to relax, as if he had given up fighting the poison inside of him, and he managed a contented smile.  ‘Sometimes we must accept things the way they are, Samuel.  I am not proud of everything I have done, but I have had a good life and I think that, in small ways, I have made this world a better place.  What else can we ask for?  Go.  Save the others.  I am done.’  And with that he released his spells and the poison within him began to tear his vessels apart with sudden vigour.  His heart fluttered furiously to keep the blood in his veins, but it was as futile as bailing water from a boat with a net.

‘No, Master Glim!’ Samuel cried out and he opened himself further to the ring. 

Its power shook him like an earth tremor and he struggled to maintain his resolve.  He knew he only had scant moments before his teacher died and he had to act quickly, but he did not know where to start.  He called for a tiny fragment of power to mend the veins in Master Glim’s arm, but the sudden surge of energy that came to him snapped the teacher’s bones in two, twisting Master Glim’s arm half-around in its socket.  The man did not seem to notice, but Samuel was shocked.  He could not control the power, and the influence of the ring only multiplied his fear, making it even harder to calm his mind.

‘I don’t know what to do, Master Glim,’ he wept.  ‘I don’t know how to save you.’

‘Then don’t, Samuel,’ his teacher croaked.  It was incredible the man still had the power to speak, but a magician’s ability to control his own body was honed over their whole lives.  Even in the embrace of death, Master Glim had enough grip on himself to make that final statement.  Then, with an audible pop, his heart burst open within his chest and he died.

‘I will not let you go!’ Samuel hissed out.  He delved his senses into the ring and called forth its power yet again.  Master Glim’s life force was already dissipating into the room, but Samuel sent out his magic in a surge that made the cottage jump.  He grasped his teacher’s energy with pure willpower, driven by the magic of the ring on his finger and commanded that it return into the man.  All his focus and all the power from the Argum Stone was directed on somehow grasping those fleeing remnants.  Master Glim’s last tatters of energy hesitated as he called to them, but they would not return to his body.  They paused enticingly at the touch of his magic but
,
after a moment
,
they continued wafting away and fading, like escaping embers from a windswept fire.

‘No!’ Samuel screamed in desperate rage and called for even more power from the Argum Stone, beyond all consideration for his own well-being.  The tiny cottage began shivering and rattling and all the books and other items began to fall from their shelves.  The room was flooded with intense magic that rang in his ears but
,
no matter how much power Samuel
applied
to the task, he could find no way to grip the old man’s dying energy.  He stood to his feet, heedless of the body he let slip to the floor and looked up to the dancing lights that swirled towards the ceiling.

He clenched his fists by his sides and screamed in his head, ordering the ring to help him, but it was a lifeless object and no voice answered him.  Master Glim’s scraps of life slipped through his magical fingers and would not be held.

Finally, Samuel had no choice but to give up, for the pain of channelling the ring was now unbearable and his efforts were useless.  He fell back to his knees and wept upon his teacher’s lifeless chest.  He sobbed for Master Glim and he sobbed for his own misery for
,
with the power of the Argum Stone subsided, he was filled with anguish and bitter loneliness.  His muscles felt raw and ripped and he felt fit to collapse from exhaustion.