Vibrations: Harmonic Magic Book 1 (24 page)

Rindu took one of the balls and put it in his palm. “They are seed pods. The particular plant from which each comes is not important. What is important is that they make good toys to train the
rohw
, as such.” With his hand held palm up with the seed in it, he looked at Sam, then back at the seed pod, drawing Sam's eyes to it. It jumped up as if pulled by an invisible string and hovered an inch above the monk's hand.

Raising one eyebrow, Rindu put his other hand out with the palm up and Sam watched the ball jump onto that hand. Pausing for a moment to pull out two more of the balls, Rindu began juggling them in a simple circle pattern without moving his hands at all. “You see,” he said, “the lightness of the balls make them ideal to practice moving them with the
rohw
without making you frustrated. As your skill improves and you can juggle all five without difficulty, you will start using heavier pebbles. As with muscles, practicing using your
rohw
will make it stronger.”

Sam accepted the box and the five seed pod balls from Rindu, bowing. “Thank you Master Rindu. I will practice with them and try to get stronger.”

Patting Sam on the shoulder, the monk smiled. “I know you will. You are very conscientious that way. It will become easier as you practice. The beginning is always the most difficult part. It is said, ‘grabbing the udder, the cow is half milked.’”

“Who, exactly, says that?” Sam asked

The Zouy mage winked at Sam “I do. Did you not just hear me do so?”

Sam and Rindu ate quickly and Sam headed to his tent where he could start practicing what he had learned. Hours later, thoughts of creating fire from his fingertips dancing in his head, he nodded off to sleep.

24

Ix sat patiently in what passed for a tavern in Raihar. She had seen better looking rooms in abandoned, burned villages. The small room had only ten diminutive tables, spread out in no particular pattern. Nor were they the same design but appeared to be whatever the enterprising tavern owner could scare up from the other residents of the town. Or from the local midden heap.

The town itself was small, home to less than fifty people. Though there were tiny farms surrounding the town, the main source of income was through trade and services provided for those passing through. Thus it was that such a small village had a tavern at all.

Ix took another slow sip of her drink, a locally-made ale apparently, and looked out the window. She had an unobstructed view of the main street in the village, consisting of several squat, square wooden buildings. They were made of rough hewn wood, had slightly sloping roofs, and no glass in the windows. Curtains in the windows moved softly in the afternoon breeze.

One building in view was different than the others in the cluster. It was made of stone fitted together and held with dark gray mortar. The owner of the building, the provisioner, stood on the porch of the store, hands on hips, looking to the South. His prodigious belly seemed to be pointing in that direction as well.

Soon, Ix noticed that others began to look toward the South. She smiled inside, though kept her face carefully neutral on the outside. The ones she was waiting for were finally arriving, unless she missed her guess. She had been waiting patiently for two days. All predators knew the value of patient waiting. Hers was about to pay off.

The assassin was in disguise, of course. She had dyed her hair brown, much lighter than her normal black hair, and had applied makeup to draw attention from her tilted eyes to her lips, causing her to look more like rest of the people in the tavern. She almost looked like she belonged here. Almost.

There was a general commotion amongst the villagers. Traders passed through relatively frequently, but strangers were still something to generate excitement. Ix saw the few village children trailing after the strangers, who were heading toward the store’s blue door. The provisioner puffed up his chest and stood straight in front of his store, greeting the newcomers. He almost succeeded at drawing in that protruding belly of his for a moment, but gravity proved to be too great an adversary, and it jiggled back into place.

Ix could not see the strangers because of the villagers surrounding them, but she didn’t need to. They would come to her soon enough. There was only one place to rent a room or to buy a drink in the village, and that was right where she was sitting. She could be patient for a few minutes more.

When the people finally entered, Ix inspected them out of the corner of her eye while she took a long drink of her ale. The tall, lanky old man with bushy eyebrows was obviously this Dr. Walt she had heard about. With him were three others.

One was a fit-looking young man carrying a staff. Was that porzul wood? Now
that
was an interesting thing. How did he come by it? Did he even know what it was? His blond-capped head swiveled back and forth, looking at everything. When his blue eyes passed over her, she saw them stop momentarily. That would be him acting like a man. With her current disguise, she would be beautiful to him. His eyes lingered for a moment, and then continued on.

The woman with him—he knew she was a woman by how she moved even though her clothing didn’t give it away—had a mask on that covered her whole head. Strange, that. More importantly, she moved with such grace and dexterity that she couldn’t have hidden the fact she was a warrior. If her movements were any indication, she was an accomplished one. So, this must be the one who defeated the Collectors.

Then she saw the other man. He was older, but not frail at all. He moved with almost as much grace as the woman, but his robes told her all she needed to know. If he was truly a Zouy monk, she could understand how such a large force of Collectors were killed by only two. As she lowered her cup of ale, her eyes met his briefly. And her heart went cold.

His face did not change at all, his body language did not alter one bit. But there was something there. She felt like she was revealed completely in his eyes. Did he know her? “When you feel as if you have been recognized, there is nothing to do but continue the charade or to escape immediately” her old master had told her. She would maintain her role, hoping she was just overreacting to the man.

The one called Dr. Walt talked to the tavern keeper for a moment and then scanned the room for a place to sit. Ix had planned on this and had taken the largest table in the room. She smiled, waved to the old man, and called to him. “Please, sir, sit with me. It appears my table is the only one with room for all four of you. I am recently from the north and would appreciate any news of the South. You came from that direction, did you not?”

The four came and sat down at the table. The woman looked her over from beside her, to her left, while the old man smiled and thanked her. The monk sat at the end of the table to Ix’s right, with Dr. Walt directly in front of her and the young man next to him.

She smiled at them. “I am Cissa. I’ve been here for a few days, waiting for my cousin. We will be looking at the surrounding areas, possibly to find a nice piece of land to start a farm for our family. Are you just passing through?”

Dr. Walt answered: “Yes, yes, that’s right. We’re just on our way up north. Rindu here is from Ikalau village, near Kokitura Mountain, and we are heading toward there. What news have you of the North?”

Ix took another sip of her ale. “There is unrest. That’s the reason my family wants to move. There are bandits and forces of armed men roaming the North. There has not been much aggression against cities or towns yet, but we feel it coming, so it would be better to be here in the South. And how are things further south?”

Rindu looked Ix in the eyes and answered: “There are groups of men following the Gray Man that are causing trouble. They pillage and enslave at will. Sometimes they kill indiscriminately. Do you know of these bands, these ‘Collectors?’”

Maintaining eye contact while lying was something she had worked hard to perfect. She looked directly into Dr. Walt’s eyes, while wearing a slightly confused yet slightly disturbed expression. “I have heard of such groups, in the North. I didn’t know they were so far south. Perhaps it is not the best idea to move my family here, after all. That is a valuable piece of information. Thank you.” The monk’s eyes showed nothing. She consciously slowed her heart, which threatened to beat out of her chest. Finally, he looked away as the tavern keeper brought drinks for the others.

Ix had planned on trying to insinuate herself into the party in order to take advantage of surprise, but she realized that she must change her tactics. With the Zouy, she would never be able to do it. She would have to use her contingency plan. “I’m afraid I must retire to my room. Will you be staying here tonight, resting to continue on your journey tomorrow? Perhaps we will have an opportunity to talk again.”

Dr. Walt opened his mouth, but the monk answered before the older man was able to utter a word. “No. We must get supplies and then leave. I am in a hurry to get back to my home.”

“I see.” Ix answered. “Very well, then, I wish you a good journey. Perhaps we will see each other again in passing.” With that, she drained the last of her ale and walked through the door to the narrow hallway and her rented room.

Ix entered her room, latched the door, and then climbed out of her window. She had things to do and she had better do them quickly.

25

Sam watched Rindu watch the woman as she left. She seemed confident and comfortable, but something about her seemed just a bit off. “Rindu, what’s wrong?” he asked the Zouy.

Shifting his gaze to Sam, he calmly asked: “What do you mean, Sam?”

“Well, you seemed troubled by that woman, or you recognized her. She gives me a strange vibe. Is it the same with you?”

“Vibe? What is ‘vibe?’”

Sam realized he was mixing his Kasmali with English. There was no direct translation for the slang word “vibe.” Sam shrugged. “You know, something seems off about her, something seems just a little wrong. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“By ‘vibe,’ do you mean ‘vibration?’” Rindu asked.

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Well, I was just using it as a figure of speech, but now that you mention it, maybe that’s it. Her vibration was strange.”

“Very good, Sam. Yes, I did sense something not quite right with her vibration. She is not what she seems. I think maybe she is a spy for the Gray Man. I had not expected them to follow us so quickly, but maybe they have birds to carry messages. I think we should leave.”

Everyone agreed, so after finishing their drinks and stopping at the store to pick up their provisions, they were on their way. Carrying the supplies they purchased was difficult for the mile they had to haul them, until they arrived back at the temporary camp where they had left Skitter and the rakkeben. Once the loads were secured on the wolves, they started off at a slow pace. Because it was almost nightfall, the party circled around the village, went a few miles north, and then stopped to set up camp.

It was not long after they had settled down into their own tents that they heard the men shuffling and trying, unsuccessfully, to be quiet while they surrounded the cluster of tents. Sam was already dressed and waiting, being tipped off by Skitter, who was curled up in the hollow of a fallen tree. He didn’t need the hapaki’s warning, though. Rindu had told them they would be attacked tonight and had directed each of them to wait in their tents, with no lights, giving the impression that they were asleep.

Surprisingly, one of the men shouted: “Ok, all you in the tents, come on out. We have you surrounded. Don’t make things get violent, now. We’re just gonna talk to ya. What happens after that will be your own decision.”

Emerging from his tent, holding his staff, Sam saw Rindu, then Nalia, then Dr. Walt doing the same. They had sent the rakkeben out to hunt for their own dinners, so the wolves were not near, though Sam did not doubt that should they call for their bonded companions, they would appear quickly. Dr. Walt began to walk toward the men, who were clustered haphazardly in front of the four party members. Rindu put a hand up and stepped in front of Dr. Walt, not letting him go any further.

With an exasperated sigh, Dr. Walt spoke from where he stood. “What are we to talk about? Have you come to attack us? To rob us?”

The leader, a big man with a squashed-in face covered by a mop of unruly brown hair, stepped forward one step. “Well, now, that all depends on you. We’re not here to rob you. We’re decent folk, not bandits. We just aim to protect our families from the likes of evildoers and trouble makers.”

Sam recognized several of the men in the group in front of him from Raihar. In fact, he saw the tavern keeper, trying to hide himself in the rear of the group. Sam’s eyes met his, and the man quickly looked down towards his feet. These men weren’t bad, he thought, they were just confused. Or ill-informed.

“You see, we’ve been told that you are a group of spies for that Gray Man and that you’ll come back with more men and take control of our village. The pattern is normal enough. We hear all the time about towns and villages swallowed up by groups of Gray Man minions. At least, the lucky ones are swallowed up. Those who are useless except as a lesson are slaughtered or taken as slaves.” The men around him murmured their agreement. Two or three even shook the makeshift weapons they carried: rakes, axes, or simple cudgels.