Inkling sighed in disappointment. Pael grinned, because he had expected this reaction. He drew out the rest of his instruction, just to taunt the imp.
“Once the eggs are secured, seek out Lord Gregory.” Pael sat the empty flask down on the table and paced a few steps across the room. Inkling all but ran into him when he stopped, and Pael had to bite back his laugh. Seeing that he’d tormented the little devil long enough, he ended the suspense. “When you find Lord Gregory, kill him.”
“Yesss master!” The imp hissed gleefully. His feet were rising and falling in place, causing him to rock back and forth. It almost looked as if he were dancing. “Can I eat his flesh?” he asked.
Pael held out a pouch full of gold coins.
“Once you’ve secured the eggs, contact me in the ethereal. Then, as far as my concern runs, you can eat everyone at the festival. Now go, before the hawker clan heads back up into the hills.”
Inkling pranced a step and half away from his master then snapped open his leathery wings and took to the air. He then changed into the form of a large buzzard, snatched the bag of gold from Pael’s hand, and flew out the open window.
A great sigh of relief escape Pael once the imp was gone. Now, he could get something done. He floated over to the lift and rose smoothly up to the uppermost floor of his tower.
It was dark, save for the light of four flickering candles spread evenly around the room at waist level. Every surface of the chamber was blackened so deeply that the walls were nearly invisible. It was as if Pael, and four little flames, were hovering in empty black space. Pael spoke a quiet word and his lift lowered out of the room. The light that shown up through the hole in the floor illuminated the space and made the area seem small again.
Pael began turning a wooden crank on the wall that was attached to a chain. A clanking, ratcheting sound filled the silence as a huge crystal sphere began to lower from the ceiling. It was so big around, that three men holding hands might have trouble reaching their arms around it. It hung in an iron ring that had three evenly spaced chains leading up and out of it into the darkness. The crystal sphere slowly came down to rest, cradling itself in the hole in the floor where the lift had just been. The top of the globe was now at chin level to Pael and the light from the hole underneath it made it glow faintly from the inside.
Pael kept turning the crank, until the chains lay slack across the floor, and then he walked completely around the ancient artifact, examining it. After a moment, he stopped, and even though he was alone and the room was dark again, he pulled the hood of his robe up over his bald head. He was careful to make sure that the top of it hung down over his eyes. He then raised his arms and began to chant.
The wizard went slowly at first, because it was hard for him to get the inflection and the tone of his voice the way he wanted it. Soon, the chant picked up its tempo, and became smooth and rhythmic. Pael then began to circle the orb quickly and his strange voicing became even faster and took on a melodic quality.
In the depths of the sphere, a tiny cloud began to swirl. It grew rapidly inside the crystal, spinning, and changing colors. Pastel blue and purple churned, then crimson, and a bright golden yellow, until finally inside the sphere, there was nothing but a roiling mass of color. The sound of Pael’s voice was a constant now. The meager boundaries of the room had long since faded away. There was no roof overhead, no wooden floor below, and no walls around him. Even the slight reverberation of Pael’s voice off of the chamber’s surfaces had disappeared. He, the four flickering candle flames and his spectral orb were no longer in the world – at least not the same world as the tower.
A diminished harmony joined the wizard’s voice, letting him know that he was no longer alone. The cloud that had filled the crystal suddenly pulsed red and stayed that way. The roiling mist faded, and a strange phantasmal face took form inside the orb. The intensity and brightness of the crimson light radiating out from within the sphere made it impossible to make out any certain detail of the face’s features. Pael let his voice trail away. He brought his arms down in front of his chest and put his palms together as if he were about to pray.
“What is it you seek wizard?” the booming voice of the demon called Shokin asked. “Have you opened the Seal yet?”
“I seek the location of the sword you so greatly despise, oh Mighty One,” Pael said. “Ironspike has gone missing.”
A long silence ensued. So much time passed that Pael started to think that the demon had forgotten him. He started to sigh, but remembered himself. It wouldn’t do to anger an ally as powerful as this one. Even though the demon had long been banished from the physical world, Shokin went out of his way to aid Pael. To aggravate the spectral demon would be to invite ruin to all of his plans, for enslaving the demon was part of them.
“The sword will not reveal itself to me.”
Shokin’s voice seemed irritated. It sounded like a thousand ancient trees creaking in a storm.
“Only when the blade is drawn by one with the cursed blood of Pavreal flowing in his veins, will I be able to locate it.”
Pael almost swore aloud. King Balton had only had one son. Prince Glendar was the last who carried the blood of the ancient hero King Pavreal. Shokin wouldn’t be able to locate the blade unless Glendar drew it, and if Glendar was in a position to draw it, then Pael wouldn’t need to locate it anymore. Pael thought carefully for a moment, letting his frustrations subside.
“Is there no other way to seek it?” Pael asked. “What about locating the King’s Squire, or the Priest that disappeared? Can you learn where those two are? It is one of them, who surely has the sword.”
The demon growled, but concentrated on this for a moment. If Pael wasn’t such a loyal subject to his cause, then he would punish the arrogant wizard. How could he have let such an important object get away? He could sense Pael’s impatience and frustration. Losing Ironspike was no small thing. It was the one thing that had the potential to hinder their plans. Shokin was at least glad that Pael was aware of this, and understood the ramifications of the situation. Shokin held his temper in check and went about seeking the Squire and the Priest, even though Pael’s thoughts were bordering on contempt.
“The priest is in Portsmouth seeking passage to the Isle of Salazar.” Shokin’s voice grated. “The squire, I cannot find, but he will show himself to me sooner or later.”
“He may have the sword.”
“There is another matter more worthy of your concern, little wizard,” Shokin boomed coldly. “A boy has found Illdach’s old ring. If he is allowed to keep it for a while, then I think he might be able to help us with the Seal. I feel a deep and certain connection to him. The ring itself is unimportant, but the boy is one of the sacred climbing folk from the mountains. He will be at the festival.”
Pael started to ask another question, but the tone of the specter’s voice caused him to hesitate. By the time the wizard had mastered his thoughts, the demon was gone from the orb. Already the bright crimson glow was fading.
Pael cursed himself for sending Inkling off to Summer’s Day so hastily. There was no way he could go himself. Glendar needed supervision far too badly. The fool Prince could destroy a lifetime of work and planning with a single thoughtless command. He hated to heap more on Shaella’s plate at the moment, but she was the one that was going to dance with the dragon, so to speak. She was also on her way to Summer’s Day to handle another matter for Pael. He knew her loyalty was unquestionable and that she could handle the young hawker who had found the ring. Most all of Pael’s planning had been done for her anyway. If she wanted to be a Queen, then she was about to have to get her hands dirty.
He had to laugh, as he started to raise the orb back up so that he could go down to the Nest and write out a message for her. He found that he truly regretted not being able to be there for the festival this year. This Summer’s Day would be a day to be remembered.
Chapter 7
Hyden considered the mood of his clansmen. Here they were, wandering through a beautiful forest, heading towards a place of peace and fellowship, on the cusp of a great and exciting competition. Very soon, they would be seeing their wives and children for the first time in weeks. The Summer’s Day Festival lasted for days and days, but on the first day of summer, it was the greatest celebration Hyden had ever known. Yet his people moved
