The First Confessor: The Legend of Magda Searus

Chapter 23

Before she lost her courage, Magda pushed the dead still, faded red cloth aside and ducked under it into a narrow hallway. Under a low, arched ceiling the hall led back through darkness toward an area of mellow light. At the end of the entryway she found a roughly round chamber lit by dozens and dozens of fat candles. The room was hollowed out of the same pale sandstone as the rest of the catacombs. Ledges carved into the walls all the way around held all the candles. The candles gave the whole room a soft, warm amber glow.

To the right Magda saw a dark doorway, presumably leading farther back into the quarters. She suspected that the spiritist would be in that back area.

In the middle of the room a thin young woman sat cross-legged on the floor. She had very short, fine brown hair and wore a dark, loose-fitting wrap of a dress that covered her legs entirely but left her shoulders and slender arms bare. Her hands remained nested in the lap of her dress.

A strange, thick leather blindfold fastened around her head covered her eyes. It was a uniform width except for a notch cut in the middle to fit around her delicate nose. The blindfold went temple to temple, held in place with a leather thong tied at the back of her head. Magic symbols and spell-forms had been carefully tooled into the leather with some of the lines colored in with paint. By the way the leather edges were worn and smooth it looked to have been in use for quite some time.

It was beautifully made, but covering the young woman’s eyes as it did struck Magda as rather foreboding.

The woman cocked her head as if to use an ear to better locate her visitor. “Welcome.”

“Thank you,” Magda said. She glanced into the dark opening to the side, but saw no one. “Are you Isidore?”

The young woman smiled, making her bony cheekbones stand out all the more. The smile, while pleasant enough, did not put Magda entirely at ease. The woman’s expression and the lines around her mouth had an uncompromising toughness to them that seemed at odds with her young age. It reminded Magda a bit of the look she had seen in the eyes of orphan girls who lived by their wits in the alleyways of Aydindril. Those girls were tough beyond their years.

“I am Isidore. Strangers are most uncommon down here. Who would you be, then?”

“Magda Searus.”

“Ah. Wife to Baraccus. I have heard of you.”

Magda didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. She glanced again to the dark doorway, wondering if the spiritist could hear the conversation.

While most people had heard of Magda, and a number of people knew her and genuinely liked her, she knew that there were also those who didn’t like her. Some women had been jealous of her, resentful that she had somehow attracted and married the First Wizard. Some men thought marriage in general, and to an attractive younger wife in particular, was a distraction that the First Wizard didn’t need. A number of people simply resented her for marrying such a great man when she herself was ungifted. They thought it improper.

She also knew that a few people, besides some on the council, had come to loath her after that bloody day in the council chambers. They didn’t like to have trouble come into their lives at the Keep. It was as if by warning them of the danger she had personally brought the threat into their midst. As frustrating as such an attitude was, the truth was the truth.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Isidore said. “The First Wizard was a great man.”

“Thank you. I am here about that great man. I would like to speak with the spiritist, if I may.”

“I’m afraid not. You see, the sole purpose of the spiritist is to serve the wizards in their work here. I don’t know what you’ve been told, but she does not give spirit consultations for either the solace or the pleasure of others. She has instructed me to tell people that her work is vital and consumes all her effort and strength, so she can see no one else. I am sorry.”

Magda knew what was being implied. “I was told only that it might be possible for an ungifted person to see her.”

Isidore considered Magda’s words. “Is it important?”

“It is to me,” Magda said. “And I can assure you, it would not be for either my solace or my pleasure. I would just as soon leave the dead to their eternal peace.”

The young woman smiled vacantly for a time. “I meant, is it important to us?”

Magda was a bit surprised by the question. “It very well may be essential to all our survival.”

“Come back another day.”

Magda stood frozen, surprised by the abruptness of the rejection. She hadn’t even been given a chance to plead her case. She decided that she had not come this far to give up so easily.

“This has to do with the continued existence of our people and our way of life. We are at war and we are all in danger. I need the help of the spiritist. I’m afraid that I must insist.”

“Insist?” The woman leaned back a little as if to look up from behind the blindfold. “And you think that because you were married to an important man you should be granted special favors? Do you believe that because you were married to the First Wizard himself you can insist and we must obey?”

Magda thought that the woman’s words actually sounded more innocently curious than bitter, so she decided not to let the questions unnerve her and instead answered calmly.

“Not at all, Isidore. I admit, my status often gained me access, but I sought that access to plead on behalf of others who have no voice, not to obtain special favors for myself. It is much the same now. I am not asking for special favors because I was married to an important man. I am asking to see the spiritist because I have need of answers so that I might help keep others safe. I admit that my safety is at stake along with theirs. I am trying to find a way to help us all survive.

“That important man, my husband, the First Wizard, in his last words to me told me to seek truth. He believed that I had a purpose in life. That is why I’m here, and why I must insist, not because of who I am, but because I have been charged with finding the truth.”

“What truth?”

“For starters, the truth behind my husband’s death. Baraccus was not the kind of man who would kill himself out of despondency. He would have had a crucial reason for what he did. Something happened when he went to the Temple of the Winds. I know that there was a purpose behind him leaping to his death, a purpose meant to help us all. It was not a suicide; it was a compassionate sacrifice of his life to give ours a chance to go on in safety. I need to find out what was behind that act so that his sacrifice will not be in vain.”

Isidore smiled to herself. It was a curious smile that softened her angular face.

“I am sorry.” The woman lifted her hand toward the entryway where Magda had come in, inviting her to leave. “As I said, the spiritist has her job to do and cannot see others. That job is also to help us all. Admirable as your effort may be, it is not our problem.”

Magda took a deep breath and let it out as she reminded herself to be patient. “It very well might become your problem sooner than you think, and then it will be too late.”

Isidore’s hand lowered and then nested back in her lap. For the first time, the woman’s brow wrinkled with a hint of worry.

“What do you mean?”

“All is not right in the Wizard’s Keep. We are at war and the enemy is already here, among us.”

The woman showed no emotion, but she lost a bit of color. “The enemy is inside the walls of the Keep?”

“Yes.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Have you heard of the dream walkers?”

Isidore sat silently for a moment. It was clear by her expression that she had.

“I have heard of them. But they are distant, down in the Old World.”

“The council thinks so as well. But the council is wrong. The dream walkers are slipping into the minds of people right here, in the Keep. I fear that they may have help from spies or traitors inside the Keep. A number of strange murders point to the enemy.”

“I am all too aware of murders taking place down here in the catacombs. For that reason, surely you must realize that it could be dangerous for you to be down here. But dream walkers? Here, in the Keep? Are you really so sure?”

“Yes. They attacked me.”

Isidore seemed surprised and fell silent. She finally gathered her thoughts.

“If that were true, you would be dead, yet you seem unharmed.”

“I was very nearly killed. I thought for certain that I was about to die. I was in fact at the veil, very near to passing forever into the spirit world, but I was able to obtain a defense against the dream walker in time to save my life. That same defense can also protect your mind being taken by a dream walker.”

The smile returned. “Ah. So, you wish to bargain. You wish to offer me this protection if I can get the spiritist to agree to see you.”

It was not a question. It was an accusation.

“Not at all,” Magda said. “I would offer you the protection without any precondition, before we go on with anything of substance, and before you agree to anything. In fact, I intend to insist, even if you refuse to help me.”

The frown returned. “You think that if you are kind by offering this help freely, then we will relent and be inclined to indulge you?”

“No,” Magda said. “Make no mistake. It is not a kindness at all, but an act of self-interest on my part. Dream walkers can invade an unprotected mind and that person can be completely unaware of it. The spiritist is at great risk of being taken because she is valuable. I believe that there are traitors in the Keep. If I’m right, then they would likely direct the dream walkers to the spiritist. Once so identified, the dream walkers would obviously want to control her so as to spy on important matters, or they might simply choose to eliminate her so that she could no longer help our cause.

“For all I know, a dream walker could already be in your mind, watching, listening, hoping to hear what I would ask, and especially what answer I would be given. I can’t take that chance. Too much is at stake.”

The frown deepened. “Do you mean to say that you offer this protection so that you will know that you are safe in my presence?”

“That’s right. I know all too well what the dream walkers are capable of. I nearly died because of them. I don’t want to risk that I could be given answers from a spiritist who is unknowingly being controlled by a dream walker intent on hiding the truth. They could send me off in the wrong direction so that I would fail and we all die.

“I suspect that there are traitors in the Keep. Among other things, I think they are guiding the dream walkers. I have to believe that such traitors could be plotting something even worse. Perhaps this is what Baraccus intended me to find. I know that assassins of some sort are among us. We are running out of time. I need to trust that the spiritist helping me is guided by the truth, and not by a dream walker.”

Isidore turned her head to the side, as if looking off into her own personal darkness.

“More than that,” Magda said, “I fear that if a dream walker is secretly lurking in your mind, he might tear you apart from the inside to prevent me from having the chance to get the answers I need. So you see, while I would not want to see you harmed, I am more concerned for myself and everyone else than I am just for you.”

Isidore had lost even more of her color. She looked ashen. Magda could see goose bumps prickle up on her bare arms. Her head turned up toward Magda.

“I value my mind,” Isidore said. She reached a hand out. “Please, sit with me, Magda Searus. I would very much like to be protected—for the reasons you give, and for my own reasons.”

Isidore had just confirmed Magda’s suspicion.