Marcus saw as well as felt time slow to an infinitesimal crawl around him as the invocation took hold. He ordered his thoughts and invoked a composite effect, blending a series of Words into one long syllable.
The first part of the effect created a smoky-white glass sphere, causing it to appear hovering in the air in front of Marcus. Marcus said what he needed to say, and an Illusion component to the effect stored his image, his voice, and his words in the sphere. The final aspect of the composite effect, a Transmutation, teleported the sphere to the one soul Marcus knew he could trust without question.
At this point, the Transmutation effect slowing time around Marcus faded, and Marcus felt the blade driving deeper into his torso once more. The pain was excruciating, but Marcus had felt worse during his explorations of the Art.
Marcus couldn’t resist a victorious laugh. “You fools have already failed; I’ve warned Gavin. Give your bastard master my regards.”
The blade found Marcus’s heart, and the old wizard felt his legs give way. The last thing he saw was an old friend slipping unseen through the alley toward him.
When the members of the deq finally turned from their discussion to collect their ‘prize,’ they froze. For several long moments, they stared at the pool of blood, now absent a corpse, and the deq’s leader bellowed her rage to the heavens.
Beside the pool of blood, a dagger stood upright, its point embedded in the dirt. The hilt bore the symbol of Dakkor, god of thieves and Master of the Guild of Shadows during the Godswar.
Chapter 31
As was often the case whenever Gavin planned to leave the College grounds, he found Declan sitting at the table in the common room, waiting to join him. Gavin long since gave up trying to understand how Declan kept entering their suite at will, especially since Marcus didn’t seem all that bothered by it. Still, it was a puzzle, and Gavin wondered where else Declan could enter whenever he chose.
“So, I guess you’re going with us?” Gavin asked as Kiri arrived at Gavin’s side and Declan stood, pushing the chair under the table.
“You guess correctly,” Declan said. “The old man asked me to keep an eye on you while he’s traveling abroad.”
“Have you heard anything from him?” Gavin asked as he led his friends to the suite’s door.
Declan shook his head as they transitioned to the hallway. “No, but that’s not uncommon. He’ll turn up when he’s ready.”
By mid-day, the business at the property office was complete, and all Gavin needed to do was name an agent or agents to oversee the transfer of ownership; Gavin had already spoken with Mariana, who agreed to serve as agent and could call on some friends in the Battle-mages to assist her.
Gavin, Kiri, and Declan were discussing what do to for the mid-day meal when a column of flame that neither burned nor radiated heat erupted from the street in front of them. The flame vanished as fast as it arrived, and in its wake stood a person Gavin had never seen before.
The person standing before them wore a hooded, purple robe, with gold runes on the cuffs of the sleeve and cowl of the hood. Even in a place as well lit as a street at high sun, a deep, impenetrable shadow shrouded the person’s face; only the eyes could be seen, and they were the red-orange color of open flame, the pupils vertical slits instead of circles.
“By the gods!” Kiri gasped. “Gavin, that’s a Guardian!”
From his reading of Mivar’s Histories, Gavin remembered the Guardians once served as the final line of protection for the Archmagister and, as such, had not been seen since the death of Bellock Vanlon…almost six hundred years before. The Guardians, as a whole, answered to the Chief of the Guard, the Archmagister, and Bellos and were utterly ambivalent to the existence of the Society of the Arcane or, for that matter, mortals in general.
“Gavin Cross,” the person said, the voice a deep rumble Gavin felt in his very bones, “you will accompany me immediately to the Chamber of the Council.”
Kiri held out her hand in a ‘Stop!’ gesture, saying, “He’s not going anywhere without us.”
The person turned its head to regard Kiri for a few heartbeats, before saying, “Your terms are acceptable, young one.”
At that moment, the same type of flame that had delivered the purple-robed person consumed all four, and the street around them vanished.
Gavin now found himself standing in the Chamber of the Council, and despite the oddity of the situation, he couldn’t stop the memory of challenging Rolf Sivas from rising to the forefront of his mind.
The Council of Magisters stood at their chairs around the table, and Gavin stood off to one side with Declan and Kiri beside him. Just a few steps away from Gavin stood Ovir, who looked just as bewildered as anyone else. The person in the purple robe with gold runes stood in the center of the space between the Council’s table and the Archmagister’s seat.
“This is outrageous,” Tauron said. “How dare you abduct the Council of Magisters and invade the-”
The person in the purple robe turned his gaze to face Tauron. “You will be silent.”
Tauron tried to maintain his ire but failed under the weight of that implacable gaze.
Once several moments of complete silence passed, the purple-robed person spoke. “I am Nathrac, Chief of the Citadel Guard and Commander of the Garrison for Tel Mivar, and it is my solemn duty to deliver this message.”
Nathrac produced a smoky-white glass sphere from within his robe and held it at chest level. He spoke a word in the language of magic, and an image of Marcus appeared. A spike of fear tore at Gavin’s soul.
“Be it known that this image and its message are my final wishes, and I have named Nathrac as executor,” the image of Marcus said before his features softened into a smile. “Gavin, I would never have guessed I missed having an apprentice, needed one in fact, until I met you. There’s no doubt in my mind you will be a wizard who brings honor to the title and the Society as a whole. For the record, I state that I named you my heir, with Ovir Thatcherson to serve as witness.”
A stunned silence descended upon most of those present. Valera looked unsurprised, as did Ovir.
“Ovir, you have been a good friend these last few years,” the image of Marcus said, “and I’ve cherished that friendship more than you know. Nathrac, what can I say to a friend and comrade who has stood with me across the ages? Know that I have counted you among my closest associates, and I regret I must say goodbye in this way. Old friend, I ask that you make certain individuals aware that Gavin is now Head of House Kirloth; I fear he will need them all too soon.
“Gavin, I would not have you grieve, because I’ve long awaited my reunion with my wife and daughter…but I suspect you’ll do so regardless. Goodbye, my boy.”
The image vanished the moment its message completed. Nathrac turned and approached Gavin; he held out his hands, one holding the glass sphere and the other a small piece of parchment.
“The parchment has two command words. The first will play the message you just saw, and the second will provide a silent, static image.” Nathrac paused and seemed to sigh. “Gavin, you should know that you and your relationship with him meant more to Kirloth than anything I’ve seen in recent decades. His final request to me was that, once and only once, you may call upon me for aid if circumstances be dire enough. Bellos Himself approved this request, so agreeing to it does not violate the oaths I took upon assuming my current duties.”
Gavin accepted the items from Nathrac, saying, “Thank you, Nathrac.”
“He was hesitant about you knowing this last piece of information, but I cannot in good conscience keep it secret. The Lornithrasa murdered him when he would not deliver you to them. They will come for you again.”