Star Mage (Book 5) (23 page)

“And remember, Talis. The only reason we’re here is to negotiate a peace treaty with Emperor Ghaalis. Master Goleth has arranged an audience with the Royal Court, but since my father is dead, I inherited his role as ambassador to Carvina. We’ll leave either when we die or they die, or when we walk away with a signed treaty. I really don’t care what we have to do to ensure peace for Naru. I won’t have war returning to our people again.”

Talis gaped at her, speechless, as she strode out of the room, her eyes refusing to look at him.

A shudder raged through Nikulo as he turned his eyes away from the horrible message etched on the temple walls.
The Dragons Devoured the Songs.
Indeed, how true, as there was no music remaining at all in the city. Only a shell of its former beauty, without the color and soul of songs pouring out in the streets. After the charm and beauty of the architecture, Nikulo could only see the coldness of an occupied city strangled by the cruel hand of a foreign oppressor.

Master Holoron caught Nikulo’s eyes after he looked away from the Temple of Songs, and his old face held a tired sadness and an inner fury at seeing the script scratched on the wall. Nikulo wondered whether the old wizard would be able to keep himself from expressing violence against those of the fanatical Order. But because the hardened warriors were likely as powerful as Master Holoron had described, Nikulo guessed he would hold his tongue.

Commander Drelan led them to a plain-looking building attached to a tall tower that rose high above the inner walls. Nikulo saw a squad of unarmed soldiers without armor marching out of the building, and he guessed that the place was a barracks or the command center of Onair. He was surprised to see the soldiers occupying such a sparse and unassuming base, expecting they’d setup their headquarters in one of the more lavish, expansive buildings farther up the hill. He’d learn later that the Dragons always sought to blend into society in order to prevent their Order from standing out.

They were greeted inside the barracks by an old, wiry man standing behind a desk who wore large, square glasses that magnified his eyes to twice their size as he studied their approach. Even though the man was old, the muscles of his bared arms were hard and sleek.

“How can I help you, Commander?” The man’s voice was high and nasally, like he had a head cold. He glanced at Master Holoron and Nikulo, and a suspicious look crossed his face.

“Secretary Mazgen, I have visitors from Carvina that have come seeking Master Varghul.” Commander Drelan looked nervous at the old man’s hard-eyed response. “They’ve just arrived by ship…”

“Commander Drelan, you will report immediately for reassignment.” The secretary’s cold expression reminded Nikulo of a snake studying its prey. The Commander looked like he’d been struck in the face. But the Commander saluted and marched into the barracks, like he was marching to his death.

 
The old man narrowed his eyes at them and rapped his ring on the desk. “Do I look like a blind fool to you? That a wizard and his apprentice could so easily walk in here and see Master Varghul? You may be able to bully or trick the soldiers outside to let you in, but you won’t get past me so easily.”

“I can see you are a reasonable man, Secretary Mazgen.” Master Holoron bowed and a wry expression formed on his face. “You are quite famous across the academic world. I enjoyed your treatise of the history of the dragons. One of my favorites, actually.”

The secretary scowled and shook his head in disbelief. “How did you acquire of copy of my work? I was under the assumption that only the Royal Library and our Order’s archives held copies…”

“You should be pleased to discover your work has been distributed far and wide to Ursula, Ostreva, Trinic, Danberk, and of course, Naru, my home city. We historians have a strong desire to share our research and works across the world. Tell me, what are you doing so far away from the capitol?”

“I go where Master Varghul goes. But if you are from Naru, then that would make you—”

“Master Holoron. A pleasure to meet you finally, Historian Mazgen.”

A confused expression came over the old secretary’s face. “But I was under the assumption that you were in the prison of Onair?”

“Yes, I was, until my loyal apprentice, young Nikulo here, released me from the confines of my cell. I’m most grateful to him for saving my life.” Master Holoron issued a bland look of appreciation to Nikulo.

“You expect me to believe that this
boy
was able to break you out of a cell protected by magical runes?”

“I do, actually. The runes were to prevent me from breaking out, and only the lock was there to keep people on the outside from opening the door. Nothing really to stop a young wizard from casting a fire magic spell and melting the lock. Quite simple, really.”

Secretary Mazgen frowned in suspicion, but his face softened and he nodded in half-belief. “So you’ve escaped from prison to come to Onair and allow yourself to be recaptured and placed in prison again? I don’t understand why you’re here.”

A devious smiled played on the wizard’s mouth. “We both share a love of dragons and dragon lore, do we not? And we are all familiar with Lord Aurellia and his journey through the stars to return to his home world?”

A stunned expression paralyzed the secretary’s body for a moment, then he shook himself and stared hard at Master Holoron. “Where in the name of the gods did you hear about that?”

“Why of course, from my young apprentice Nikulo here. He travelled with young Talis Storm and Mara Lei through the worlds portal to Chandrix, chasing after Aurellia until they finally reached Vellia. Do you want me to continue the story now, or would you prefer me continuing to the part about the dragons of Ghaelstrom, on Aurellia’s home planet, with Master Varghul present?”

Master Holoron displayed a row of brilliant teeth to the secretary in a satisfied smile. The old man rummaged through the papers on his desk in a nervous, habitual movement. He glanced at Nikulo in a surprised, frightened expression and swept out of the room, leaving the wizard to chuckle at his quick departure.
 

Soon another soldier came and waved them inside, and like the other men, he wore no armor and likely if Nikulo encountered him on the street, he would have never suspected him as anyone special or particularly threatening. What was common with all the soldiers of the barracks was their thin, wiry build, average height, and dull, dead eyes like the dragons of Ghaelstrom that Nikulo had seen on Vellia. Utter lack of eye contact and emotion, these Dragons moved as if nothing mattered and there was nothing of any care or weight burdening their bodies as they glided along.

Inside a clean, well-organized office in the back of the barracks, they were greeted by the cold, inhuman stares of three soldiers all wearing similarly loose, priest-like clothing. Secretary Mazgen stood in attention at the corner of the room, an anxious expression on his weathered face. The man in the middle spoke first, and he sat at a chair in front of a broad desk with a map of the city, and colored markers and small silver figurines were placed in strategic positions across the map.

“Master Holoron, I presume?” The soldier scratched at an itch on his shoulder in a deft, oft-repeated movement. “I heard you wanted to see me.”

The wizard shifted his stance slightly and studied the man with cautious eyes, unaffected by the stiff tension in the room. “Why have you stayed so long in Onair after the invasion was successful? Certainly you and your men would prefer returning home to their friends and family.”

The soldier gave an irritated click of his tongue. “Dragons have no friends and we leave family behind when we join the Order.” He spread his arms wide in a gesture of inclusion. “This is our home now. This
is
the Order of the Dragons. All members of the Order live here now.”

“What of the other Dragons in Carvina?”

“You know a great deal about our Order, wizard.” The man scowled in a rare display of emotion. “Perhaps this has something to do with the rune master that betrayed you in Ursula? What was her name…Mistress Cavares, am I correct? Yes, I thought so. Well, I have news for you, those are not true Dragons in Carvina but apostates, traitors to our Order and our legacy, bought off by the Emperor’s gold.”

So these Dragons were the sub-cult that Master Holoron had talked about
, thought Nikulo, trying his best not to make eye contact with the soldier.
 

“So you are Master Varghul, the leader of the Order?” Master Holoron glanced at the map on the desk and Nikulo thought he saw a glimmer of worry on the wizard’s face.

“What interests you on our map, old man?”
 

“Nothing, really,” said the wizard. “It just strikes me as odd that you would have chosen Onair to call as your home unless there was something of value here. And I see you’ve marked the ancient archives with a figurine of a dragon. You’ve discovered something?”

Nikulo could tell from a twitch in the soldier’s eye that the man was doing his best to contain himself. “You were invited here to tell us your story, not to interrogate me over the map.”

“But you see, I’m not finished with my questions for you.” Master Holoron’s face hardened as he stared down the solder. “If you want to hear my story, you will answer. What have you discovered in the ancient archives?”

When the soldier was silent and seething, Nikulo thought that a fight might ensure between the wizard and the man. But they remained unmoving and quiet, and to Nikulo’s surprise, the tapestry on the far wall was moved aside and a short, bald man entered the room. His face held the nonchalant but very confident expression of a king, or perhaps even of an emperor. Something about his eyes exuded power and inner strength. And unlike the other soldiers who averted their eyes every time Nikulo looked at them, this man locked eyes with him until it was Nikulo who turned away in a cold flush of fear.

“Even with your best mentalist tricks you were only able to infuriate the apprentice.” The bald man waved a hand and dismissed the soldiers, and the three men left the room. Did Master Holoron possess mastery over controlling the minds of others? Then why did he ask Nikulo to control the captain’s mind?
 

“I’d say my apprentice passed the test for someone of the second level, and I will allow him to hold his rank for now. Though I’d expect more from him if he hopes to advance.”

Nikulo noted the frustration in the departing soldier’s eyes for failing to keep his calm, though the bald man still kept a degree of humor on his face.
 

“Allow me to introduce you to Master Varghul,” said Secretary Mazgen, and he flourished a hand in the direction of the bald man.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Varghul.” Holoron bowed in an elegant arc that Nikulo thought was a bit too much for the plainness of the room.
 

A tremor of wonder rippled across Varghul’s face as he studied Holoron. And to Nikulo’s surprise, the man returned the bow in exactly the same movement. “Tis rare to see a practitioner of the old formalities. I welcome your gesture of respect. Why don’t you have a seat and I will have some tea brought in?”

As the man nodded to Secretary Mazgen, Master Holoron and Nikulo sat at the two simple chairs in front of the desk and waited for Master Varghul to speak.

“In the archives we’ve found evidence of a surviving enclave of dragons in the far north, within the Islands of Tarasen.” Varghul paused as Nikulo opened his mouth to speak.

“But that’s where Master Palarian was from. Do you know of him?” Nikulo wondered if it was such a good idea to mention the fact.

“We know very well of Master Palarian, and his islands have long been the study of our Order. His existence and strong-handed rule of the Islands of Tarasen were the prime reasons why we focused our search there. He went there before the last of the dragons were slain, so we suspected that dragons might still exist there. So you see, although you’ve informed my secretary that dragons exist on Lord Aurellia’s world, we have no desire to infringe on his proclaimed territory. We have a kind of a truce between us. And now that Master Palarian has relinquished his rulership of Tarasen, we plan to soon travel up north.”

Master Holoron ran a hand across his mouth and knitted his brows in deep thought. “A very interesting revelation. And would you be interested in extending that same truce with the people of Naru? It seems that your group might be distancing themselves from the Emperor.”

“The Jiserian Empire is in downfall and Emperor Ghaalis has surrounded himself with advisors and wizards who insulate him from the harsh realities of the Empire. If he bothered to send scouts to Ishur and to other smaller cities he would know the truth: his Empire is in shambles.” Master Varghul waved a hand in a light flourish. “But none of that matters to me. Coming to Onair was just a chance for my group to leave Carvina and prove our worth to the Emperor. He’s rewarded us handsomely for solving a very difficult situation against the Order of Songs. A fine, beautiful Order that I regret with all my heart that I had to put down.”