The Covenant Rising

18

The girl began to mutate before their eyes.

Her features seemed to melt, to become malleable. She was enveloped by a haze, like the agitation heat currents make in air, and light played around her. The swirling mist and sparkling illumination grew fierce, so much so that Reeth and Kutch couldn’t see what was happening.

As the light faded, the haze started to dissipate. They could make out a shape, a heap of what could have been flesh, pulsating on the floor. Then there was a crouching figure, shaking itself the way a dog does when it comes out of water. The figure rose, and it was much taller than the child had been. Its features clarified.

A very old man stood before them. He was white bearded and rangy. Uncountable wrinkles creased his seasoned face. He wore a deep blue ankle-length robe with silver trimmings.

Caldason had his sword half unsheathed. ‘What the hell -?’

‘No, Reeth, wait!’ Kutch exclaimed. ‘I think… I think it’s all right.’

‘Heed him, Qalochian,’ the old man said, ‘there’s no danger for you here.’ His voice was like aged rum and warm honey. He stretched, fists bunched, shoulders back, as a man might when he’s just woken up.

Reeth clacked his sword back into its scabbard. ‘You’re Phoenix, I take it.’

‘I am. Forgive my little deception.’

‘I’m not in the mood for jests, sorcerer.’

‘It was no jest,’ the old man informed him in a starched tone.

‘You call that charade serious?’

‘My

intent

is deadly serious. It’s to escape capture or worse at the hands of our enemies. A plight I believe you’re familiar with yourself. My appearance is known to the state, making a mask necessary.’

‘An odd choice of disguise.’

‘But particularly effective. It also has the virtue of amusing me.’

‘How did you

do

that?’ Kutch blurted out.

‘Ah, the apprentice.’ He fixed the boy with an unwavering gaze. ‘I think you might be able to explain as well as I.’

Surprised, and a little overwhelmed, Kutch stammered, ‘Me?’

‘Why not try?’

‘Well, Mage…

sir

… I imagine that the spell you used didn’t actually compress you to child size. It made you… invisible, which is to say glamoured, so it gave the

sense

of invisibility, and the image of the child took your place. It’s basically, er, an illusion, as all magic is on one level. But a…uhm… complex, impressive illusion. Very advanced Craft. Sir.’ Kutch completed his explanation with a hesitant smile.

Phoenix flashed unexpectedly white, even teeth. ‘Excellent! Wrong in every essential, but top marks for inventiveness.’

Kutch’s face fell.

‘There’s always more to learn, boy,’ Phoenix added, his brusqueness softening a degree or two. He turned to Caldason. ‘Look, we’ve got off on the wrong foot and that wasn’t the idea at all. I know you’re here seeking help for a grievous malady, and -’

‘What do

you

know of it?’

Phoenix, ruffled at Caldason’s curt manner, went back to brisk himself. ‘Would you like me to speculate on the symptoms? Let’s see. You have fits that are violent and dangerous to others, and when unrestrained you fight like a berserker. You hear voices. If wounded, you heal remarkably quickly…Will that do for a start?’

‘You seem a damn sight better informed than me. But I don’t hear voices.’

‘Oh, haven’t they started yet? Give it time.’

‘Are you trying to mock me?’

‘No, Caldason, I don’t want to provoke you or make fun of you. I’m just saying that your condition, or something like it, isn’t entirely unknown to us.’

Hope stirred in Caldason. It showed in his normally unreadable face.

‘Truly?’

‘I wouldn’t lie to a man with your burden.’

‘Can you help me?’

Phoenix sighed. ‘Perhaps. But before we go into that… It would be good if you didn’t misinterpret what’s about to happen.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Come!’

Phoenix called.

Two men entered the room. One was a stranger, ruggedly built, perhaps thirty, clean shaven but for a moustache, and he was armed. The other was Dulian Karr.

Kutch was taken aback. Caldason scowled suspiciously.

‘What is this, Karr? What are you doing here?’

‘Forgive me, Reeth. But please, listen to what we have to say.’

‘This was supposed to be a private meeting. Now half of Valdarr’s trooping through here. What can you say to me now that you couldn’t have said before?’

‘Plenty, as it happens. Only here it can be said with more authority. You’ve met Phoenix.’ He turned to the stranger. ‘This is Quinn Disgleirio, representing the Fellowship of the Righteous Blade. A man who can be trusted.’ Disgleirio nodded. ‘And I hope you know by now that you can trust me, Reeth,’ Karr went on, ‘and those I’ve brought you in touch with.’ He spread a hand wide, indicating Phoenix and Disgleirio. ‘What we have here is a three-pronged alliance. A union of dissident magical, martial and political forces.’

‘I’m honoured,’ Caldason returned sarcastically.

‘You should be. If you can contain your anger and not storm out, you’re going to be told things few others have the privilege of knowing. We intend putting an enormous amount of trust in you, Reeth. It’s time we were completely honest with each other.’

‘You assume I have any interest in your plans.’

It was Disgleirio who answered. ‘We’re offering you hope, man. You’ve searched long and hard for a solution to your troubles, and it could be in your grasp. Don’t walk away from that. Hear us out.’

‘And if what you say doesn’t suit me?’

‘Some of it may well not,’ Karr told him. ‘But if once you’ve heard us you feel you don’t want to take things further, then we’ll go our separate ways. We’d be content to trust you with our secrets, and wouldn’t hinder you.’

Caldason pondered the offer. ‘I’ll hear you. But I don’t need a debating society. Keep it brief.’

There were relieved smiles all round. At Phoenix’s bidding they moved to the table and took seats.

‘Thank you, Reeth,’ Karr said. ‘You heard Phoenix say he might have a bead on your problem. We propose starting with that.’

The wizard fastened his steady gaze on Reeth. ‘The patrician spoke of honesty, Caldason.’ He nodded Kutch’s way. ‘Don’t you think the lad deserves to know the truth about your ailment? He’s stood firm with you, and the rest of us mean to do the same. Let us in.’

‘There are aspects of it that tend to… unsettle people.’

‘Not us,’ Karr assured him.

Kutch added softly, ‘I don’t know what’s going on here either, Reeth, but I’m sure you’re among friends.’

Caldason scrutinised their faces. He said nothing.

‘I claim no special insight into your condition,’ Phoenix explained. ‘The patrician told me about your seizures.’

‘I knew when we were with the communards, Reeth,’ Karr admitted. ‘You were seen. How could you hope not to be?’

‘The rest fell into place,’ Phoenix went on, ‘once I examined the annals for other cases matching your symptoms. Such cases are very rare, but with diligence they can be found.’ He paused to consider his next statement. ‘It’s said that I can defy death. This is untrue.’ Fleetingly, his grin flashed again. ‘Perhaps not even Melyobar can do that. I confess I haven’t discouraged tales of my longevity. They have value as far as Covenant’s image is concerned. But what of the enduring nature of

your

life, Caldason? Would there be some justification if such tales were told of you?’

‘As you said, my wounds heal quickly. Broken bones reknit. I never get ill.’

‘Never?’

‘I came through the black spot epidemic in Shalma, and the outbreak of rotting sickness in Deeve. Other plagues at other times left me untouched too.’

Kutch stared at him in wonderment, and with not a little apprehension. ‘You mean you’re immortal?’ he whispered.

‘No. Extremely resilient rather than indestructible is the way I’d put it. There seems to be a limit. If I had a severed limb, I can’t imagine it would re-grow, for instance. I guess I’d die if someone pierced my heart or parted my head from its shoulders. Then again, I was poisoned once and survived.’

‘Who gave you poison?’

‘I did.’

A moment passed in silence while they took that in.

Phoenix broke it by asking, ‘Do you age?’

‘Imperceptibly. My appearance hasn’t changed much over time.’

‘How long have you been like this?’

‘Since the last great massacre of my people, at Keskall Pass.’

Karr didn’t hide his astonishment. ‘That was seventy years ago!’

‘Seventy-two,’ Reeth corrected.

‘That makes you older than my master was when he died. Yet you look…’ Kutch faltered.

‘I know.’

‘Is it some kind of curse?’

‘It certainly feels like one. But I don’t think it is in the way you mean, Kutch.’

‘Now I understand what you meant about your friends dying in ways other than violently.’

‘I’ve seen too many age and pass from this world. I’m not keen to repeat the experience.’

‘But what

happened

to you?’ Phoenix pressed. ‘At Keskall.’

A pained expression wreathed Caldason’s features. ‘I… I don’t know. I survived the massacre somehow, though I took wounds. Wounds that should have been fatal. Somebody helped me. I’m not sure about much else. It’s confused, jumbled in my mind. There are holes in my memory. Though, sometimes in dreams… Well, not dreams really, more like visions or…’ He shook his head, defeated by the challenge of explaining.

Karr said, ‘Isn’t it true that historically the Qaloch had good relations with the rulers of Bhealfa?’

‘Yes. Our independence was respected and our borders were inviolate. Something changed that.’

‘And the paladins broke the treaties and all but wiped out your people.’

‘They were the instrument of our ruin, and for that I’ve tried to make them pay. But for all their power they weren’t the masters. I’ve never been able to find out who the Qaloch were such a threat to that they’d engage in genocide against us.’

Disgleirio had proved a man of few words. Now he said, ‘It’s been my honour to have Qalochians as comrades in battle, and in resisting the tyranny of the empires. They were the most courageous and skilled fighters I’ve ever known.’

Caldason gifted him the slightest of nods, and a fleeting, dilute smile of gratitude.

‘These are deep waters and we may never get to the bottom of them,’ Phoenix pronounced.

‘I need to,’ Caldason told him.

‘I understand. But best to concentrate on your affliction for now.’

‘An affliction,’ Disgleirio echoed thoughtfully. ‘Yet immortality, or at least a version of it like yours… isn’t that something people would kill to have?’

‘Rather than try killing themselves because they had it, you mean?’ Caldason replied. ‘That depends on whether you see it as a privilege. I don’t, because it’s a trade-off, and I fear the ultimate cost will be the loss of my mind. It makes me feel like I’m connected to something… malevolent, and incredibly powerful.’

‘I told you that Covenant knew about conditions similar to yours,’ Phoenix reminded him. ‘It would be more accurate to say that we’ve heard of such things rather than actually encountered them.’

‘What have you heard?’

‘Enough to suspect that Founder magic could be involved.’

‘But Founder magic’s dead,’ Kutch broke in.

‘You know better than that, boy. It’s all around us. It’s the Founders who are dead. Their heritage is the magic we take for granted.’

‘How does that help me?’ Caldason said.

‘Founder magic was the most powerful ever known. Our skills are petty compared to theirs. Your search for a cure was always doomed because no magic we have could lift your burden. But perhaps, just perhaps, there might be a Founder solution.’

‘How could there be? The Founders and all their works disappeared before recorded history.’

‘Covenant is very old. Some believe that our creed’s antecedents go back to the Dreamtime itself. I don’t know whether that’s so. But we’ve studied the Founders for a very long time. We’ve tried to find out as much as we can about them and their ways. It’s one of the reasons we’re so frowned upon by the authorities and approved sorcerers.’

‘There can’t be much left for you to study.’

‘Precious little. The achievements of the Founders moved from history to memories. Memories became stories, handed down by our barbarous ancestors. The stories slipped into legends, and the legends ripened to myths. Our harvest of knowledge, after centuries, is piteously small.’

‘Have you learnt anything that could help me?’

‘It’s more that we have an inkling of where such knowledge might be found. If we’re right, and if we can master it, there’s hope for you. For all of us.’

‘That’s a lot of maybes.’

‘More than you have before you now, I daresay.’

‘Be clear about this knowledge. What is it, and where?’

‘There aren’t straightforward answers to such questions. I’ll try. One of the most persistent legends about the Founders is that they left certain legacies apart from our system of magic. These include something we call the Source, which is the way we refer to the vast repository of knowledge they must have had. That knowledge would be of immeasurable value to us. After all, the Founders used the same earth energies we employ. So it must have been in their

techniques

that they were so advanced over us.’

‘What form would this hoard of knowledge take?’

‘That’s one of the difficulties,’ Phoenix confessed. ‘We might think of such a thing as a grimoire, a tome of spells or the like. A whole library. But it’s important to understand that the Founders didn’t think like us. It could well be something quite different. Something we can’t imagine.’

‘Whatever it is, you’re saying it could help me?’

‘

If

it exists that would be one of its lesser miracles.’

Caldason looked dejected. ‘You don’t even know if it’s real or just another fable.’

‘Granted we’re not entirely sure. For a long time we were convinced it was only a story, with no substance. Lately, our researches have led us to doubt that. If we’re right, the benefits would be enormous, not least in breaking the shackles of the empires. A great tyranny requires a great counter force to combat it.’

‘It all ties together, Reeth,’ Karr added. ‘You’d have a chance to lift the hex from your shoulders, and with Founder magic the Resistance would have a weapon that could give us a fighting chance against both empires.’

‘All right, I see where you’re going with this. But still no one’s told me where this source is.’

‘Have you ever heard of the Clepsydra?’ Phoenix asked.

Caldason shook his head. ‘No. Another fairy tale, is it?’

The magician chose not to be affronted. ‘We think not.’

‘I’ve heard of it,’ Kutch offered. ‘It’s known to everyone with an involvement in the Craft.’

‘What is it?’ Caldason said.

‘A myth.’

‘Don’t be so hasty,’ Phoenix cautioned. ‘We believe it might be real. As to what it is, it’s possibly the Founders’ most abstruse remaining artifact. Assuming it does remain. As near as we can tell, it’s some kind of device for measuring the passage of time. Not the trifling time of everyday concern, not the hours, days and weeks we’re ruled by. Oh, no. It’s said that the Founders had ways of divining when the world would end, and they created the Clepsydra to mark off the eons to the Day of Destruction. It may even have been intended to prevent that catastrophe.’

Caldason was growing visibly restless. ‘What’s the connection between this thing and the Source?’

‘There are stories linking the two. They could be together. Then again, the Clepsydra might

be

the Source. It’s said to have more than one function, a combination of what seems to be a practical and a religious significance.’

‘

Could

be together,

might

be the Source. More ifs and buts.’

‘Short of laying out for you all the research material we have concerning this, which would take weeks, for the moment you’ll just have to take my word. The evidence is circumstantial, but convincing.’

‘What good is any of this if you don’t know the Clepsydra’s whereabouts?’

‘That’s just it. We think we might have traced its location.’

The Qalochian looked very interested indeed.

‘Where?’

‘I’ll show you.’

Phoenix rose. Swiftly, his hands described a conjuration. A mass of green luminescence appeared in the air above the table. It formed itself into the shape of a large sheet or rug, wafer thin. At a further gesture it drifted down to the table top and floated just above it.

‘Bhealfa,’ the sorcerer announced.

Now that he’d identified it, the image made sense. A bird’s eye view of the island state, its lines and contours traced out in glowing green. The glamour map rippled gently in a breeze perfumed with incense.

‘We believe the Clepsydra is located off the northern tip of Bhealfa.’ Phoenix indicated the area. ‘Up here somewhere, in this scattering of islands.’

‘There are scores of them,’ Kutch said.

‘Hundreds, actually, though most are tiny. It’s a very inhospitable region, subject to storms, treacherous tides and no end of other natural perils. Plus it’s quite likely to be defended in some way, perhaps by Founder magic.’

Caldason stared at the dusting of emerald specks. ‘Then that’s where I’m going.’

Disgleirio responded with, ‘We, which is to say the United Revolutionary Council, want you to be part of finding it. You have the necessary skills and certainly the best motivation.’

‘I don’t need your permission,’ Caldason told him.

‘Think, Reeth,’ Karr said. ‘Even if we managed to narrow down the location, how would you reach it unaided? Even if you did, you wouldn’t know what you were looking for, or how to utilise it in the unlikely event of being successful. No, this has to be an organised, combined effort.’

‘What are you suggesting?’

‘The Resistance will undertake an expedition, properly crewed and provisioned, with adequate fighting forces and a complement of sorcerers on board.’

‘When?’

‘We’re as anxious as you to find this thing. But it takes time organising something like this, particularly as it all has to be done in the greatest secrecy.’

‘How long?’ Caldason insisted.

‘I can’t give you an exact answer. Weeks, certainly. Perhaps months.’

‘That’s not good enough, Karr.’

‘Not good enough be damned!’ the patrician flared. ‘The Resistance has other tasks that have to be carried out as a matter of urgency. Our resources are stretched. You’d get there no quicker under your own power, believe me.’ He calmed, and continued reflectively, ‘We have a deal to propose. We’ll move with all speed on mounting the expedition, and we guarantee you’ll be part of it. In turn, you undertake to help the Resistance.’

‘I’m not looking to be part of any movement.’

‘You’re a loner, we know that. But there are times when things can only be achieved through co-operation. And this makes sense because our interests coincide. You just have to have patience.’

‘That’s a counsel easier to deliver than receive. What is it you’d have me do as my half of the bargain?’

‘Chores well within the capabilities of a man like you, though I won’t pretend they wouldn’t be dangerous.’

‘A little more detail would be useful.’

‘That will be provided as and when you need to know it. You really don’t have a choice, Reeth, you must see that. Are you in?’

After a pause, Caldason replied, ‘I’ll think about it.’

‘Do that, my friend. Can we expect your decision soon?’

‘Give me a while to weigh the odds on all this.’

‘That’s fair.’

Kutch, still nervous at being in such exalted company, indicated the splash of dots on the map. ‘Er… Phoenix, how will you go about finding the Clepsydra’s island?’

‘A good question,’ the magician replied, ‘and opportune as it brings us to our next topic.’ With a wave of his hand the map collapsed in on itself as though crushed by a giant invisible fist. Then it faded and vanished. ‘One of our methods would be magical sensing. You know about that, don’t you?’

‘Well, I’ve read about it, and my master -’

‘I meant knowing in a more personal way.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘I believe we have two people with exceptional abilities here today, Kutch. Our Qalochian friend -’ he nodded towards Caldason ‘- and you.’

‘What… what do you mean?’

‘You were quick to see through my little illusion when you first arrived here. That, and what Patrician Karr told me about the executions you witnessed in Saddlebow, makes me think you could have a very rare and special gift.’

‘Me?’

‘I believe you could be a spotter.’

Kutch didn’t speak. But his face told a story of puzzlement and disbelief.

‘Is somebody going to tell me what a spotter is?’ Caldason asked. ‘And what the hell’s magical sensing?’

Phoenix smiled. ‘Magic gives off a distinctive psychic aroma, for those who can detect it. Such people are very few, and the skill is a birthright; it can’t be taught. The way in which these sensitives perceive the gist of magic varies. Rarest is the gift of spotting. A spotter can see through magic, literally. They can tell glamour from reality, no matter how sophisticated or expensive the spell. It’s an incredibly uncommon ability.’

‘Do you have it?’

That caused the wizard to laugh. ‘No! But what I wouldn’t give for just a

taste

!’ He continued more soberly. ‘Covenant actively seeks those with magical sensing gifts, and currently the number in our ranks could easily be counted on the fingers of one hand. I’d think myself extremely fortunate if I found one more in the whole of this new alliance we’ve formed.’

Kutch, still looking confounded, muttered, ‘It can’t be.’

‘When we first saw the patrician,’ Caldason remembered, ‘back in your hamlet; you knew he had a protective shield long before I did.’

‘Perhaps I just have better eyesight, or…’ Kutch trailed off, lacking conviction.

‘Can we do anything to establish this, Phoenix?’ Karr asked.

‘With the boy’s permission: a test. It’s not to be taken as definitive, but it’s a good indicator. Do you mind, Kutch?’

‘No, I’d like to find out.’

‘Very well.’

The magician left the room by its smaller door. Seconds later he returned. Behind him filed the six masked, grey-clad guardians they had seen downstairs. They lined up against a wall, facing the table. Kutch stood and moved a few paces towards them. Phoenix laid a hand on his shoulder.

‘Five of these men are genuine, flesh and blood members of Covenant,’ he explained. ‘One is a glamour. Can you tell which?’

The half-dozen were absolutely identical, and seemed very real. They all had sweat on their brows. They blinked with normal regularity. It was even possible to see their face masks creasing slightly as they breathed in and out.

For Kutch, the test had unpleasant echoes of the executions he’d seen, which made it hard for him to clear his mind.

Perhaps Phoenix realised this. ‘Relax,’ he advised, ‘take your time. There’s no penalty for failing.’

Kutch studied the unmoving figures, his eyes sweeping the line. He looked from one to the next, taking in everything about them. At last he said, ‘That one,’ and pointed. ‘Second from the right.’

‘You’re sure?’

The boy nodded.

Phoenix made a complex gesture. Slowly at first, but with gathering pace, the chosen figure loosened its hold on quasi-reality and flew apart, so many billion grains of golden sand. The flaming particles dissolved.

At Phoenix’s signal the remaining five guardians turned and quietly left.

‘Not conclusive, as I said, but certainly indicative. How did it feel? I mean, what was it about the decoy that made you pick it?’

Kutch frowned. ‘Nothing special really. It just seemed… obvious, I suppose. Like recognising a lame horse in a herd.’

‘This was why Domex apprenticed you,’ Karr said. ‘He saw that you had the gift. Sadly, he didn’t live long enough to help you develop it.’

‘Now we can do that,’ Phoenix promised. ‘Covenant could train you, discipline your power and teach you to hone it.’

‘And there’d be a place for you in the Resistance as well, Kutch,’ the patrician added. ‘The plan we hatched, the one your master was instrumental in drawing up; you can be a part of that, if you’d consider it.’

‘He’s only a boy,’ Caldason complained, an edge to his voice. ‘Don’t push him.’

‘There are younger in the Resistance. Anyway, the decision is his. What do you say, Kutch?’

‘Well…’

‘You should have time to think on it, like Reeth. Will you do that?’

‘Yes… yes, I will.’

‘Good. And perhaps what we have to tell you about the greater plan might help you both make up your minds.’

‘You’ll never get your precious revolution started,’ Caldason reckoned. ‘Even with the prospect of this fanciful old-time magic and child spotters.’

‘Revolution? Who said anything about a revolution? Gods, no. We have something much more creative in mind.’