“What do you mean, you tried to stop me?” Montague was confused. He hadn’t seen Burton in over a month.
“I did what was necessary to try and prevent you from reaching Illyrium.”
Montague pressed. “You did what, exactly?” He didn’t like Burton’s vague explanations, considering the trouble he’d been through.
“First I relaxed you to make sure you would sleep in, past the rendezvous.”
“Relaxed me? You mean drugged me? When? Last night?” Montague asked. He almost wasn’t surprised.
“In your tea, yes,” he said matter-of-factly. “Then I cracked the wheel on your wagon so that it would break. I’m sorry, but I was only trying to protect you.”
“But the princess,” Montague said. “She needs medicine. And I have none left.”
“I already gave Gretchen some pigroot and ginger algae. Olivia will be fine for now.”
Gretchen was Princess Olivia’s handmaid, also guilty of consorting with Burton, an exile.
“Why couldn’t you have just told me not to go?” Montague wondered.
“At the time, I wasn’t confident enough of what was happening to alert you, so I simply set up obstacles, hoping that you would have just delayed your travels for the day until I returned from visiting some of the farms.”
“Another test?”
“Every choice we face in life is a test, Montague. And we make countless decisions every day.”
Perturbed by his teacher’s confession, Montague had to ask. “And the pigs, did you round them up as well?”
“Pigs?” Burton laughed. “No. I’m not that mean. But with all of the obstacles I put in place, you still reached Illyrium, didn’t you? When you arrived, I sensed it. You have a hard head. A ‘testa dura’ you are. I should have known that even I couldn’t stop you.”
“Then if no one suspects me then why did we have to meet here for you to tell me this?”
“Because I need you to help me send an important message,” Burton said.
“Since when do we travel almost a hundred miles to send a message when you can contact anyone or anything with your mind?” Montague had once witnessed Burton summoning a family of foxes from miles away to deliver messages to different people in different towns. One of many miracles he had seen his teacher perform.
Burton took his eyes from the cave drawings and looked Montague in the eyes. “I’m growing old, Montague. My mind has become withered, making it hard for me to function in this body.”
Montague had suspected that Burton’s ability to tap into infinite knowledge was diminishing. In recent years he’d become forgetful. The old man would have to physically search for answers now, and he was not fond of constant travel.
A gust of wind followed Burton’s hand as he waved it across the small pyre. It went out. He led Montague further into the depths to another cave system.
Here, there were more paintings. Burton pointed to the ceiling above them. Drawings of dead bodies, stacked, with corn husks coming out from the tops of the pile, represented the first portent of the Fall of Mankind. “The Nekrum invasion will begin with a great sickness.”
“I’ll wager you can guess who, or should I say, what, drew this,” Burton said.
“The one that the Nekrums control, the host,” Montague replied. “This shows the plague from the prophecies, written in The Book of Volpi.”
When the Nekrums would take control of a human body, that host was manipulated by a technology based on microorganic intelligence that could operate the human body. The aliens were much more advanced than the primitive humans of Naan.
“Yes. The Nekrums ordered their host to insert prophecies into all the copies of The Book of Volpi being reproduced, drawing out the Nekrums’ plan for invasion, knowing that there was nothing the people could do about it. The Nekrums find it entertaining to see people in fear of what is yet to pass. But the Nekrums left out certain details to mislead me. These scenarios are only possible futures. If the majority of mankind believes in those possibilities, those beliefs could generate enough mental energy to feed the destructive force of the events prophesized. The Nekrums are trying to get mankind to help create its own demise by believing these prophecies. The human collective consciousness is more powerful than an incarnated angel. That’s the Nekrums’ greatest weapon. When people are afraid, or sick, it makes them easier to control. And recently, our people have been feeling ill after every meal. The last produce and spice shipment was tainted by a substance created by something other than nature.” Burton gave Montague a hard stare. “If one of the farmers is compromised, then our enemies have already made their move.”
Because of his teacher, Montague knew what the Nekrums were going to do, but Burton didn’t know when they would do it. Following the laws of chaos to keep their enemies guessing, the Nekrums remained completely random in their time of attack. They believed that an enemy who based his war strategy on ceremonial dates was weak.
Burton coughed, holding his chest.
“You told me that the Nekrums wouldn’t invade while you were here. I was born into my life with you in it, and I’ve studied beside you since I could read. And I never saw you ill. What are you not telling me?”
Burton looked to his feet. He seemed hesitant about what he was going to say. But then his mentor spoke the words that Montague never thought he would hear.
“I’m dying,” said Burton. “Just days ago, for the first time, I bled from a wound that I couldn’t heal.”
Montague took a deep breath. “But you can’t die. If you are right about the Nekrums…we’ll need you.”
“I can’t live much longer. Don’t you see? That is why the Nekrums are starting the invasion now. They know that after half a millennium I can’t stabilize this body for much longer.
