To Cast the First Spell Read online

  Efferin took the amulet without hesitation and placed it against his forehead. “Fenton Chen,” he called into the air.

  “I hear Grand Maestro, how I may serve?” replied a voice only heard by the possessor of the amulet.

  “Three of the Talenteds will shortly be dispatched to Ducuan. Inform Cleona of their coming.”

  “Will the Talenteds be seeking Potentials?” Fenton asked in a smooth even tone. A person forced to listen to one of his orations for any length of time would soon be asleep.

  “Relations with Cleona would greatly improve if an Aakacarn is found among her citizenry, don’t you agree?”

  “I do agree, Grand Maestro. The Queen is likely to be exceedingly pleased by the effort,” Fenton said, in the same even tones and then added, “I doubt the Talenteds will find anyone with Potential.”

  “Cleona only needs to know the Talenteds are coming and nothing more,” Efferin said, in a tone matching the Accomplished to Ducanton. “Give her my regards.”

  “Your will be done, Grand Maestro,” Fenton said in a voice devoid of emotion.

  It was difficult determining his true feelings on the matter without any inflections in tone to give clues. Even in person his body language revealed little. Fenton Chen was a competent man with a high degree of professional detachment, more so than many of his peers in the Aloe Guild.

  Efferin handed the sapphire amulet back to the Chief Aid. “You may retire for the night.”

  “Thank you, Grand Maestro,” Bran replied, and then turned and walked out with a chartreuse glow forming around him, casting a spell to close the door as he departed.

  Efferin cast a spell to open the single door behind his desk and then walked a short distance along the hall leading to his private quarters. The walls were pearly white and a plush crimson carpet cushioned his footfalls as he made his way to his bed chamber. He required few amenities, a cedar night table, dresser, cabinet, and a king-sized bed pushed up against the center of the far wall. The frame was made of gold from the mines of Demfilia. The tiny kingdom on the northwestern edge of the continent was small and yet wealthier, thanks to rich deposits of silver and gold, than kingdoms five times its size. The Demfilians were usually well muscled, most of them being in the mining profession.

  Efferin changed into his sleeping apparel and reclined on his bed. He especially liked the fluffy white pillow made from Serianian silk. He enjoyed anything originating from his place of birth, Serinia, known all over the world for culture, art, and culinary delights. Citizenship had to be given up once a person is found to be of the Aakacarns. He had fond memories of the day his potential was discovered by an Accomplished of the Eagle Guild. Those were the days when a Talented remained in Aakadon until trained and only a full Accomplished, one possessing a lightening bolt, would scout for Potentials. It was a more civilized time.

  His predecessor had an easier job, the Serpent Guild being weaker back then. Grand Maestro Trevor Keen was a great man, but had one failing. He left out a vital piece of information, knowledge that should have been passed on to his successor, the spell holding Tarin Conn in bondage beneath Kelgotha. It was cast by Grand Maestro Della Lain, a six bolt Accomplished at the time. She lived three hundred years and set two records, the longest life span and the highest ranking as an Accomplished; eight bolts. The spell performed on her golden flute, in the crystal chamber of Mount Shantear, in the kingdom of Lobenia, was passed on from her to the next Grand Maestro shortly before her death. The Melody was passed from generation to generation of successors. Efferin sighed. Trevor Keen died without passing on the information. Efferin dared not confide in anyone. He rolled on his side and stared through the clear ruby window at the glowing city he ruled. It was better to let the world think it was safe, he thought, and then willed all of the city lights to go out. Perhaps grace and good fortune would allow the Dark Maestro to finally die of old age. At least the spell holding him still worked and would continue to, so long as the flute still existed, wherever the passage of time placed the crescendo. Good old Trevor had failed to pass on that bit of information as well. The spell could last another thousand years and give the problem to some Grand Maestro ten centuries in the future. The current one had no intention of letting the problem rob him of any more sleep. The defeat of Balen Tamm held that dubious honor. If the Maestro of the Serpent Guild found the flute, well, the thought was too unpleasant to continue. Balen Tamm had to be stopped at all costs. Efferin drifted into an uneasy sleep.

  Sunlight shined through the window bathing the room in red. The smell of bacon wafted in from the passageway and tantalized Efferin’s olfactory nerves. He dressed and waited at the small table beside his bed.

  The door swung open and in walked Bran Tippen carrying a silver tray and wearing, along with his silks, an idiotic grin. “Good morning, Grand Maestro, did you sleep well?” he asked, and then removed the lid, revealing eggs, bacon, toast, and a large glass of citrus juice.

  Fool, how can I sleep well with the world always in need of my complete attention? “Well enough,” Efferin replied out loud. The good food had saved the aid from a tongue lashing he would not have forgotten.

  Bran nodded his head and placed the tray on the table. He took a step back and his smile faded away and his brow creased, leaving him a more somber expression. “The Talenteds we will be sending to Bashierwood will soon be determined. Instructor Jason Renn rearranged schedules so the test could be given to the entire fourth level class right away.”

  Efferin waved a piece of bacon under his nose and then smiled as the fried strip met his tongue with full flavor. He chewed and then took a sip of juice before answering, “Good, I will visit the class this morning.”

  “Your will be done, Grand Maestro,” Bran replied. His eyebrows rose up as though he were caught by surprise, as if the event was rare. Well, it was but the Chief Aid did not have to look so shocked.

  Efferin ate quickly and then dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Some of my appointments will need to be rescheduled for a later date. See to it while I visit the Talenteds.”

  “Your will be done, Grand Maestro,” Bran said, in his usual soft voice. The man really should learn to speak up. He took the tray and headed off down the passage.

  Efferin journeyed out into the street circumspectly, observing his entire domain. The ruby pyramid was by far the most massive building in Aakadon, one thousand cubits from point to point. Even still, the capital building was not the tallest structure. Several near by towers soared fifteen hundred cubits into the sky and scraped the clouds drifting in the upper currents.

  The marble streets were filled with Accomplisheds and Talenteds going about the business of their daily tasks. A tall ebony-skinned woman proudly wore the medallion of the Aqua Guild around her neck, newly raised Accomplished tended to wear over-sized emblems. The Ecoppians were a proud people by culture, able and strong, rugged warriors who were quick to challenge and willing to risk everything to win. Tanya Bournes bowed her head slightly forward upon realizing who was walking towards her, as is proper. A full Accomplished bowed deeply to no one, not even his or her Grand Maestro. Bran Tippen was the only exception.

  Efferin smiled and headed straight to Tames Hall, the place of learning was always named after the current Grand Maestro. The building, crafted through spell casting, was made up of millions of pearls bonded and shaped into a structure having twelve levels and a width and depth of two hundred cubits. The Stone Guild crafted the hall and all other buildings in Aakadon, naturally doing their best work in this city. The metropolis did not feel like a mere place to dwell, it was like living in a sculptured work of art. Serinian architecture did not even come close in comparison. Every building in Aakadon rivaled the royal palaces in each of the kingdoms of Atlantan, all of which were constructed by members of the Stone Guild.

  Efferin entered the building and tried not to notice the Talenteds who stopped and stared as he passed them. When the shock wore off, they bowed deeply, as was fitting for the
m. The Instructors bowed their heads slightly and were better at concealing their having been startled. Jason Renn would have told them about the examination but none of them evidently considered the possibility their Grand Maestro would come in person.

  He thought of the time nearly two centuries ago when he attended classes in this same place, which was known as Keen Hall back then.

  He entered the classroom where fifty of the Talenteds sat quietly, heads facing forward where Instructor Jason Renn sat at his desk grading papers. His scarlet on black hooded cloak hung from a hook behind his desk. His matching shirt and trousers fit him well and complimented his medium frame. His sandy colored locks were threatened by a receding hairline. A long nose, thin eyebrows, and peachy skin color marked him a former citizen of Battencay. The kingdom was mostly known for cattle and horse breeding. A medallion with a diamond encrusted, “Z,” hung from a gold chain around his neck.

  Efferin remained in the back of the room, not wanting to interrupt the grading process, the results of which held his utmost interest. He studied each of the students, wondering which of them would be chosen.

  A Cenketoarian sat in the second seat of the third row. The people of his kingdom were staunch supporters of Aakadon. The young man had a slight build, as did most of his countryman. Standing, he would be about four and a half cubits. His white silk garments fit him well, as did those of all the other Talenteds in the room. All of them wore the same style white silk hooded cloak with matching shirt and trousers, both male and female. Aakacarns are Aakacarns, being a man or woman mattered little and was irrelevant.

  “Sherree Jenna, come forward,” Jason called out.

  A well formed young woman walked to the front of the room and faced the Instructor. She stood five and a half cubits tall and appeared to be no more than eighteen years of age. She composed herself well, showing no emotion, as is proper when facing an Instructor. The spark in her bright green eyes was the only indication of her excitement at being chosen. She clearly had Lobenian blood in her veins. Her light complexion and yellow-gold hair were common traits among her nationality and she even resembled the portrait of the great Della Lain, whom history states also came from Lobenia.

  “Jerremy DeSuan, come forward,” Jason Renn ordered.

  A tanned young man, a Serinian, came forward. Efferin liked him immediately, good breeding counts. The boy from the city of Polen Tare stood six and a third cubits high and had a muscular chest and arms, which were clearly defined under his white silk shirt. He took his place beside the Lobenian.

  “Samuel Cresh, come forward,” Jason said, without bothering to lookup to see if anyone of the three had failed to obey. Obedience was something he took for granted, and rightly so.

  A young man came forward in such a hurry that his hood fell back revealing dark curly hair. The lad was agile and seemed to be in excellent physical condition. He took his place on the other side of the Lobenian, whom he matched in height.

  Jason dropped his writing instrument and looked up. His eyes widened and he sprang to his feet. “Greetings, Grand Maestro, how may I serve?”

  All of the students sprang to their feet, repeating in unison the words of their Instructor, adding a bow of respect, as was proper. They stood silently waiting, clearly eager to please their Grand Maestro.

  Efferin motioned with his hands for the class to be seated, a gesture they responded to immediately. “I’ve come to see who will be going to Bashierwood,” he said and glanced at the Instructor. “A word with you and these three Talenteds in private would be appreciated.”

  “Most certainly, come right this way, Grand Maestro,” Jason replied, and then ushered his three students through a door behind his desk.

  Efferin entered the tiny office where a pine desk occupied the spot nearest the window and a portrait of Gerard DeCamp hung on the wall. A smaller painting depicted three Accomplisheds of the Zephyr Guild glowing with potential for a unified spell. It was an excellent rendering of Jason standing between Terroll Barnes and Randall Kamis. Poor Terroll didn’t deserve Silencing, but the matter was internal guild business and thus Efferin did not interfere.

  “Won’t you please take my seat,” Jason said, offering the only chair in the room.

  Efferin sat down facing the three youngsters. “Do any of you know why Bashierwood is your destination?” he asked, in his most even tones, so as to make them less nervous.

  Sherree Jenna stepped forward and bowed deeply.

  “You may speak, child,” Efferin said. At his age nearly everyone in Aakadon was a child in comparison.

  The silk garments contoured her figure strikingly as she straightened to give answer. “We are being sent to Bashierwood to find out who is responsible for casting the High Power spell. We all felt the ripples,” she stated accurately.

  “You are correct,” Efferin replied, and then focused on the Instructor. “Jason.”

  “Yes, Grand Maestro, how may I serve?”

  “Give each Talented one of your communication amulets. They are to report twice a day to you, once in the morning, and then again in the evening, immediately if they encounter difficulties or new developments,” Efferin instructed, and then paused, glancing at each student, he added, “This assignment could be fraught with danger. You are to take no foolish risks and be on your guard at all times. I have good reasons for sending our best three Talenteds. Remember, you are Aakacarns, do not embarrass Aakadon.”

  Sherree, Jerremy, and Samuel bowed deeply. “Your will be done, Grand Maestro,” they said in unison.

  Efferin was please but suppressed his sudden urge to smile. He had to maintain dignity at all times, especially in public.

  Jason opened the top drawer of the desk and removed three gold amulets, each having a large sapphire set in the center, and then gave them to his top students.

  “You may resume your studies,” Efferin said, and then walked from the small office feeling quite pleased.

  Chapter Three: A Gratuity To Be Paid

  Daniel made his way along the main trail while birds chirped their greetings to the new day. Leaves glistened in the sunlight and a gentle breeze swept through the branches above. The family cottage lay behind him and farther still was Binkman’s Cliff, where he and Tim spent many hours over the years. They played melodies, Daniel on the guitarn and Tim keeping the beat on the drums, and they did just about whatever entered their minds. He remembered when they tied a rope on a branch near Binkman’s cliff and then swung recklessly over the edge and back, laughing the whole time. Daniel was grateful he and Tim survived to out grow such foolishness. Thinking of the past took his mind off the present, which held enough worries to thoroughly depress him, if he allowed it. He kept thinking of Val and even those thoughts did not cheer him up, they added to his concerns. Was it fair to invite her into his cabin without revealing his secret? The answer was firmly, no. Could he keep his secret from other people? Maybe, but nothing could change what he knew about himself. He was an Aakacarn. His current line of thinking only created more questions. How far had his spell traveled and did anyone else see the blue glow?

  He approached what was called the pitch fork. The center trail led straight down through the heart of Bashierwood, past the Polkat Inn, and then wound its way down the mountain. The left prong turned at a slight angle and paralleled the center trail for about three spans, and then turned sharply to the west and on down the slope. The right prong turned east. Shane and Brigget had a cabin three spans down it. They were the most recently married couple on Tannakonna and were not inclined to entertain company as yet. Half a span farther was the DuKane spread. Rod built the house twenty years back and invited Cindi inside. Their union produced one boy, Tim, and three girls, Tanya, Katie, and Sonia.

  “Hey, wait up,” Tim called, from a hundred strides down the east trail.

  Daniel was tempted to keep walking and make his friend hurry to catch up. The innkeeper despised tardiness and a confrontation with him would only add to the growing list
of problems. “Could you move a little faster? Henri isn’t a patient man and I don’t want to be late!” he shouted down the path, and then stopped and waited for the drummer.

  Tim quickened his pace and caught up moments later. “Did you see the blue light?’ he asked while wiping perspiration from his brow.

  If the spell reached the Dukane spread, it probably was seen in the village as well. This did not bode well for keeping the secret. To lie about the incident held little appeal, but a diversion from the subject might be possible. Daniel rarely kept secrets from his best friend, not many, some things even his trusted confidant was better off not knowing.

  “I accomplished quite a lot on the cabin last night, all I have to do is furnish it,” Daniel said, and inwardly winced at having used the word, accomplished.

  Tim looked at him sideways and a smile slowly formed. “That means you’ll be inviting Val inside soon.”

  Only yesterday the thought of marriage brightened Daniel’s heart, now it dimmed with doubt and uncertainty. How would Val react to being invited into the cabin by an Aakacarn? The thought killed any joy the new day might have had. The only good thing so far was that the conversation had veered away from the spell, although it was not much consolation. Tim’s smile faded away and was replaced by concern. “Don’t look like you just swallowed bad cider. Marrying can’t be that bad. Besides, I don’t think Val would let you back out now,” he said, and then paused with a calculating look about him. “What’s the matter?”

  Daniel was not pleased with the direction this conversation was taking either, although he still wanted to marry Val. She did have a right to know the truth, but how would she handle it? He hoped it would not be by running and screaming through the village. “I’m just not sure she will accept my invitation,” he said, and that was no lie.

  Tim rolled his eyes upward, clearly not accepting the notion. “More likely, frogs will stop eating flies,” he said, and then started forward. “We better get moving. Did you see the light?”