The Guardian's Apprentice (Beyond the Veil) (23 page)

“Do you blame me?” snapped Keegan, almost in tears.
 
“You don’t know what it was like, Acamar.
 
No matter what I did or what I achieved, it was never enough to satisfy my father.
 
Nothing was ever enough to achieve his approval, especially after Mom died.
 
I didn’t fear being a failure, Acamar – I
was
a failure!”

Acamar sighed and shook his head.
 
Closely examining the claws on one front paw, he spoke quietly, “I remember your father, Keegan.
 
He was a self-centered and overbearing man, destined for mediocrity.
 
He was banished from this side of the veil because of an act of desperation.
 
He knew he would never be chosen to replace Master Whitestone as the Guardian, much less as the head off the White order.”

“What?” Keegan asked incredulously.
 
“I thought he left because he met my mother.”

“Hardly.
 
Your father was banished for trying to open the Great Seal.
 
He thought he would gain enough power to enslave the Council and destroy your grandfather.
 
He was never going to legitimately attain the power he craved and he knew it.
 
With our extended lifespan this side of the veil, the thought of several hundred years of mediocrity made him a very bitter man,” Acamar said in a very matter of fact tone.
 
“You see Keegan, I expect that your father’s critical eye was driven by his own failings.”

“Wait a minute.
 
You said he never would have been head of the white order – but he wore this ring didn’t he?
 
I thought our family inherited the position?”

Acamar sighed again – he was getting to old for this; being a cat for twenty-three hours a day was one thing, but playing nursemaid to this young novice was an entirely different level of trouble.
 
“Your ring is inherited, yes.
 
But things may….change…so to speak.
 
Your father’s motives were tainted by greed and ambition.
 
When he left this side of the veil, the stone in the ring you now wear was no longer white.
 
Both the stone and his robes were more of a dingy grey.
 
Had he stayed on this side of the veil I expect that both his robes and the ring would have turned black by now.”

Acamar’s words gave Keegan something to think about; if what he said were true, it would explain a great many things.
 
In fact, he remembered receiving the ring when his father died and the stone was indeed grey – not the snow white that it was now.

“That’s right,” said the cat.
 
“The stone is only white now because of you, Keegan.
 
Because of who you are and the purity of your soul.”

Keegan jumped as the ancient clock in the corner of the room suddenly chimed midnight, with twelve deep-throated chimes that Keegan thought must have been designed to wake the dead.
 
Turning back to face Acamar, he was surprised to see the rather severe looking wizard in black robes sitting in the place on the hearth where the cat had been before.

“That’s right,” said Acamar.
 
“It’s a new day and I have my hour to be human.
 
I thought it would be easier to talk with you in this form, and mark my words – this had better not be wasted!
 
I won’t be allowed to transfigure again until tomorrow, which means dinner tonight will consist of whatever I can catch – literally.”

“So, what’s next?” asked Keegan with a sigh.

“That depends; are you staying or going?”

“Staying.
 
In spite of what you say, I really don’t see that I have a choice in the matter.
 
If I try to leave I’ll be killed; if I stay, at least I might learn enough to try and defend myself.”

Acamar actually smiled at the young man “That’s the spirit, my boy!” he said, patting Keegan’s knee as he spoke.
 
“Your final task will likely be scrying, or conjuring a vision from an object given to you by the Council.
 
We’ve practiced this one before, do you remember?”

“Yes, that’s when I first saw Nisha.”

Acamar visibly winced at the name, Keegan thought.
 
“Be careful, Keegan.
 
Nisha is….well…let’s just say she has a knack for getting her way where the opposite sex is concerned.
 
She is also an excellent chess player, Keegan.
 
I’d hate for you to end up as one of her pawns.”

“What do you mean?
 
What would she want from me?”

“I’ll not say any more for now.
 
Just guard yourself when she’s around.
 
In fact, that would be sound advice when dealing with almost anyone else you are liable to meet around here.
 
Be careful what you say and to whom you say it.”

“Great – one more thing to worry about.”

“Now, let’s give scrying one more quick practice run to make sure you’ve got the hang of it and then you need to rest.
 
Not to mention that my hour is very nearly up and it’s hard to hold a scrying sphere in a pair of fur covered paws.”
 

Walking over to the bookshelf, Acamar selected a small crystal sphere from a stand on one of the shelves.
 
Shimmering slightly at his touch, Keegan could sense the ripples of magic emanating from within the petite object.
 
It was amazing how sensitive to magical energy he had become over the past few days, he thought.

“Now,” said Acamar as he handed the crystal to Keegan, “take the sphere and concentrate on something recent.
 
Try one of your challenges and see if you can divine some of the details that you might have missed before.”

“Okay,” Keegan replied as he took the little sphere into the palm of his right hand.
 
If he didn’t know better he would have sworn he could feel warmth pulsating out of the object.
 
He focused his mind on the sphere in his hand and closed his eyes, trying to clear his thoughts.
 
He reflected upon his recent tests and decided to focus on the library task.
 
He opened his eyes and gazed into the crystal orb, trying to reach out to the pulsating warmth he could sense just beyond his grasp.
 
Slowly his eyes lost focus as his gaze turned inward, traveling with the magic into the sphere.
 
Almost before Keegan’s eyes, the scene in the library unfolded, only this time he could see the entire room as if he were floating near the ceiling.
 
There was Evalsef, working in the book stacks and humming a tune to herself, and there - there was that ill-tempered little gnome Nemwith!
 
The little old man had just set down a stack of old books when he looked up, as if he heard a sound.
 
It seemed to Keegan that the little old man was having a discussion with someone, but who or what Keegan couldn’t tell.
 
From where he was, he could not see anyone else in the room other than the gnome and his wife.
 
Keegan refocused his thoughts, trying to concentrate on Nemwith.
 
Suddenly the view changed and the little man was right in front of him.
 
He still could not make out who the gnome was talking to though; instead of a figure there was just a shimmering outline where someone
should
be.
 
The apparition was slightly taller than Keegan and from the shape of the outline, it appeared to be dressed in wizard’s robes.
 
Now that he was closer, however, he could now make out the conversation.

“…but my instructions were to serve him the Elderbrandy poison, to allow him sufficient time to seek the solution.”

“Those instructions have been changed,” came a voice that though muffled, was at once familiar.
 
“You are to serve him this instead,” said the figure as it handed over the familiar looking bottle of poison that had very nearly killed Keegan.

“Nettlewine!?
 
Are you insane?
 
The young fool won’t stand a chance – he’ll have two minutes or less!”

The shimmering figure advanced on the gnome, towering over him.
 

“The last time I checked, it wasn’t the head librarian’s decision to make – it is mine.
 
You will serve this to the boy when he comes for the test, and after they drag his carcass from your library you will switch the bottles back again.”

“Now wait just a minute,” huffed Nemwith angrily.

Before he could finish his angry retort, the figure gestured at him and he froze in mid sentence.
 
Nemwith’s eyes were fixed forward and looked like two black marbles.

“You will do as you are told,” intoned the figure.
 
“When you have finished your task, you will be released and you will not remember any of what has transpired.
 
If you disobey my command or betray my confidence you will be turned to stone where you stand.”
 

As the apparition finished speaking, Keegan could see it making several motions around the little gnome with what he assumed were arms.
 
As it finished, Nemwith (still glassy eyed) took the bottle and set it on the shelf where it would later be retrieved for Keegan.
 
The little old man returned to his books and the shimmering figure faded into the background until it was no longer visible.

Shocked by what he had just observed, Keegan’s concentration broke and the images around him swirled and faded.
 
Snapping back to reality, he found himself sitting on the floor by the fire, the crystal sphere in his hands and beads of cold sweat on his forehead.
 
Acamar was sitting across from him, brows furrowed.

“Acamar…”

“I know.”

“But,” stammered Keegan, still somewhat disoriented from his vision.

“After your last experience with Cedric I thought it best if I…tagged along…as it were,” said the older mage, still frowning.
 
“I went with you into the vision so I could see what you witnessed.
 
Do you know who that was, talking with Nemwith?”

“No, I never could make it out.
 
It was always just a shimmering area, like ripples in water.”

“An elementary cloaking spell, one which I will teach you myself in time.
 
You may not have seen who it was, but I did.
 
Fortunately, due to my curse, when I attach myself to others like that I am perceived as a cat.
 
As luck would have it they did not see me behind the stack of books.
 
If they had realized it was me traveling through the vision with you, we might not be standing here now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Simple.
 
If the wizard in question had noticed me, he would know he had been discovered and would have altered his actions – thereby changing the future.
 
He might have moved more openly to kill you or removed the page containing the healing incantation you used.”

“But
WHO WAS IT
??!” screamed Keegan, who had finally had enough.

“I don’t think that is wise just yet,” said Acamar more calmly.
 
“This was one vision cast by an inexperienced novice.
 
If we took this before the Council we would be laughed out of the castle and you would be killed anyway.”

Blinded by rage Keegan sprang from the chair at the older wizard, intent upon seizing him by the throat.
 
Acamar was faster though and with a small gesture of his right hand, Keegan was held fast where he stood, as if bound by invisible ropes.
 
Keegan was furious; furious with himself for getting involved in this and furious with Acamar for not telling him who was trying to kill him.

“Listen to me!” snapped Acamar.
 
“If I tell you now, I know what you will do – you’ll march straight into the Council making accusations, and under our law, you would probably be challenged to a duel.”

Undeterred, Keegan continued to struggle against his bonds.
 
Unable to speak, he continued to glare in silent fury at his captor.
 
Acamar could see the boy’s anger and could even sympathize with it, but his first task was to protect his young ward.

“I am going to release you, Keegan, but not until I take some precautions.
 
I’m very sorry to have to do this, but I have to put you under a memory charm.
 
You won’t remember this part of the evening at all, rather you will remember our scrying session and you will recall that it was successful.
 
You will
not
remember what we witnessed with Nemwith, nor anything that happened afterward.”

Feeling shocked and betrayed, Keegan’s face was so red with anger and strain Acamar was actually concerned the boy might have a hemorrhage.
 
Clasping his blood red pendant in his left hand while still keeping Keegan safely restrained with his right, Acamar cast his memory charm.

“purgo vestri sententia, memor haud magis.”