The 7th Relic, page 14
The gryphon, or Vilzen, or whatever he is, stares down at Alorn, its large eyes seeming to take in everything about the elf, and not just his physical attributes. Its eyes then move to Andrew, resting on him for a few seconds before they shift to me. I stand, breathing easily, and even though my blades are in my hands, I try hard not to seem threatening. I don’t know why I know, but being hostile to this magnificent beast will get us nowhere.
Eagle eyes shift their attention to me. “Ah, the bearer.”
I shake my head, but it’s Andrew who answers him. “No, she’s not a Bearer.”
The gryphon scoffs at him. “Anyone with eyes can see she’s carrying the Relic of Aeyan. And you, Bearer of the Six, why are you here?”
“I asked your nephew to bring me to you.” The gryphon’s head tilts to one side. “You knew my father, and my uncle Konè. It was Konè who sent me to find you. He was also the one who told me of Vilzen, the Gryphon.”
The beast seems to be amused by Andrew’s words. “It’s true, I knew them.”
“So then you know of their passing?”
“Yes, I know. The Mage’s Creed has felt their loss throughout the realms.”
“We need your help,” says Haro, stepping forward. “First, to open the gates back to Kalorii.”
“And the other?” asks Vilzen.
Haro turns to Andrew, then back to the gryphon. “The Rising.”
“No.”
Reiko steps forward, his words terse. “You know about the Rising and you won’t help us?”
“My realm needs your help,” adds Andrew. “Without you our one chance in a millennia will disappear if the relics aren’t united before the Aeyan Moon hits its peak.”
The gryphon is quiet, mulling over Andrew’s words. He turns to me. “And you? What do you want?”
“I want it off of me.” I stare back at him, unwavering. Besides my need to kill Jleroh, I want the relic off.
“Even with the possibility of death?” His directness almost blindsides me. He turns back to Mellis. “Why would you risk your life to find me for these people? They have no ties to you. Why help them?”
“You’ve been away from family too long, unk, if you have to ask,” says Mellis. He gives the gryphon a sad smile, stepping closer to Alorn. “We are family, your sister’s blood. Your blood runs through us. It’s in our nature to help those in need, and if you’ve lost that sense of yourself here in this realm, then it’s time you went home.”
“This is my home. There is no place for me in Velesi.”
Alorn put his weapons away, his eyes never leaving Vilzen’s. “Your sister died to save Velesi. To save us, to save her people…your people. Ever think that maybe if you were there she would still be alive?”
The screech from the beast is full of rage, deafening us all. The gryphon sets itself to attack; its wings flap thunderously, pushing us back with their force, and just when it’s about to lift to descend upon us…the front door to the house opens.
“Zenny? What’s going on here? What’s all the noise?”
A small old woman steps out the door. She can’t be more than four foot ten and eighty-five pounds. Her kinky white hair is thinning, like soft clouds against her dark coffee skin. The wrinkles are more pronounced around her eyes and forehead, and the fine lines around her thick lips indicate a life full of laughter and humor. She leans heavily on a metal walker, her pink robe hanging like a tent on her thin frame.
Unlike his slow transformation to the gryphon. As soon as Vilzen turns to face the woman he is back to his alter ego, an old man who is as old as the woman at the door.
“Nothing to worry about, Maggie-Girl,” he says in a gentle voice. “Go back into the house, my dear. I’ll be there in just a few minutes.”
“Who’s with you, Zenny? Is that Russell with you? And why are the boys here?”
Vilzen gives a low whistle and the men come awake slowly, but they’re still in some kind of trance. They turn and make their way to the house next door, disappearing through a gate leading to the backyard.
“Hi!” say Mellis, waving at Maggie. “I’m Mellis, Zenny’s nephew.”
“What did he say?” Maggie looks in Vilzen’s direction. Not only is she hard of hearing, but she can’t see very clearly despite her thick bifocals.
“Nothing. He said nothing.” Vilzen makes his way back to the house. He reaches Maggie and gently turns her and her walker around. He guides her back toward the door, walking slowly to keep to her pace. “They’re selling candies for their school, that’s all.”
“Are they selling chocolate?” There is a little thrill in her voice.
“Yes, yes. I’ll buy you some, but first you need to get back inside. It’s late.”
They disappear into the house, leaving us standing bewildered in the street.
~ * ~
Chapter Twenty-One
~ Andrew ~
“Seriously, why a gryphon?”Mellis has pestered the mage with the same question since Vilzen pulled us into his thela.
Vilzen looks at Alorn. “Is he always like this?”
“You have no idea.” Alorn takes a seat on the stool next to a counter.
The mage sitting before us isn’t Maggie’s “Zenny,” but an elf built like a bouncer: bald, muscular, six-two, piercing clear blue eyes and a face that could break cement just by looking at it. And when he speaks, it’s a deep baritone that oddly puts one on guard and at ease at the same time. This is the “old” mage’s true form.
The room is cozy and I’m guessing this little sanctuary is for both him and Maggie, a place away from home, even if home is only ten feet away. The living area consists of a green velvet antique sofa, armchair and lounge, a vintage French Louis XVI coffee table and a priceless Moroccan rug with an intricate design. There is a fireplace to one side of the room that hasn’t been cleaned out, obviously used often. It’s then that I realize the temperature in this room is warm. But not like the heat outside—just a cozy warmth against a stormy night.
The mage sits in the armchair near the fireplace. “So, what do you want?”
I take a seat on the sofa, Grace next to me. “You already know what we want. I know my uncle. He wouldn’t have sent us to you without him sending you a heads-up first.”
“And what makes you so sure he did?” Vilzen leans forward to place his elbows on his knees. His actions tell me that what I say next will determine whether he helps us or not.
“You knew who we were,” interrupts Reiko, sitting next to Grace. “In fact, you not only knew who Andrew was, but Grace, too.” He waves at Grace. “And I’m pretty sure you know who I am, and who he is,” he finishes, throwing a thumb behind him at Haro. The Cumro is standing next to Alorn, his eyes intent on Vilzen.
“Konè,” I start, “once told me about you. About a debt you owed him, a blood debt.”
“What’s a blood debt?” asks Grace.
“Blood debts are rare and no longer exist,” answers Vilzen, his eyes still on me. “They don’t exist because in order for one to be made, it usually means someone died in a tortuous and gruesome manner. To live through one takes enormous inner strength, an iron will to live and a reason to live it. That was Konè.” After a moment, he nods and stands. “All right, I’ll help. I’ll only leave Maggie until the day after the Rising. I will call on the sprites to look after her. Their price will be steep, but I’ll pay it.”
“What’s their price?” asks Reiko.
“Knowledge, of course.”
Reiko glances around the room, then back at the mage. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
Vilzen snorts. “You think your weapons are grown from spent bullets? Without the knowledge of how to make them, how to use them, and how they work you would’ve been beaten with good old-fashioned clubs and stone the last time you were here.”
Reiko blinks at him. “How…how do you know we were here before?”
“This one is a bit slow, isn’t he?” Vilzen walks to the counter to face Alorn. Standing close, I can see the family resemblance. The mage is obviously older, but their features are undeniably that of family.
Reiko’s eyes follows the mage. “Wait, did you say ‘sprites?’ Like, what, fairies?”
“Yes, that’s what he means.” Haro moves to allow Vilzen his spot at the counter. He steps around it to stand next to Mellis, whose eyes dance with curiosity.
Reiko continues with the questions. “So, they want to know about guns?”
Vilzen turns toward the living room, catching our attention. ““There are other types of weapons that are much more dangerous. The power of magic is great. How to attain that power takes a lot of studying, a lot of trial and error, and a lot of sacrifice.”
“What kind of sacrifice?” Grace has been fascinated by the mage since he transformed himself into a gryphon.
“You don’t want to know.”
“If your knowledge is so dangerous, why would you give it to them?”
“Because my Maggie is worth it a million times over.”
“Well, now that that’s settled, where do we go from here?” asks Haro.
Vilzen walks to the fireplace and picks up an ornate copper box adorned with rubies, sapphires and emeralds. Whether they’re real or not, I can’t tell.
He places the box on the counter and we gather around to get a closer look. He takes his hand and moves it along the top and sides, as a slight vibration emits from it. When he moves his hand, the jewels from the box trickle from his palm onto the counter until a small pile worth millions sits before us. With speed I’ve yet to witness from anyone I’ve met so far, the mage grabs my hand and slams it on the pile. I flinch when the sharp edges, especially the diamonds, rip through my skin.
“What the hell…?” Reiko steps back, expecting the gems to go flying. They don’t. When I lift my hand there is a huge diamond embedded in the center of my palm, just under the skin.
“You’ll need payment on the journey back to Omakei,” says Vilzen. “Whenever the payment is asked for, it will appear. Don’t worry, the only ones who can see it are those here.” He looks at Reiko, then sighs. “Because we witnessed the transaction.”
Reiko looks around, then shrugs. “What?”
“So, Unk,” says Mellis. Vilzen turns to him, raising a brow at being call “Unk.” “Can you unite the relics? What happens when you do?”
“Karas will rise and the sun will return to Omakei.” Before I can ask, he lifts his hand, stopping me. “Yes, one or both of you may not make it when I take the relics. What I do know is the process will be extremely painful.”
“Is there any other way?” asks Reiko.
“I’m afraid not. The relics on Andrew have fused to his body. The one Grace has is buried under her skin.”
The air seems to have been sucked out of the room, and no one says a word.
Grace looks at each of us, unsure. “Konè told me Lana would give the relic over and that was it. He didn’t imply there would be the possibility she would be hurt, let alone die over it.”
Something in Vilzen’s eyes tells me he knows my secret and I let Grace’s hand go, leaning away. He points a finger at her. “Lana was the original bearer. You two were meant to carry them. Not Grace.”
In a state of shock Grace turns away, returning to the sofa, and plops down. She leans forward, her elbows on her knees, and drops her head into her hands. It takes every effort not to follow and comfort her. Instead, I nod at Reiko and he moves to sit beside her.
“What else?” I ask.
“All gods were a ‘somebody’ before taking their heavenly thrones, including Karas. If we can’t bring him back, he will be lost forever. And if that’s the case, then a new sun god or goddess must be chosen to take his place.”
“Goddess?” I ask, incredulous. “But what of Aeyan? The moon goddess has waited for Karas’s return. The Rising is only possible because of her.”
“Yes,” replies Vilzen. “The Rising is happening because it’s her destiny. She knows the risk, the possibilities of losing Karas forever, and despite that she has no choice but to go through with the ceremony. It will happen because it was prophesied long before she graced the heavenly skies.”
“So is that it?” asks Grace from the couch. “Our fate is in someone else’s hands?”
“Some believe Fate is but a child playing cat’s cradle with our life’s thread,” says Alorn. “And then there are those of us who don’t like games and send the little brat to bed without supper. Fate is what we make of it; our destiny is our own. You decide, Grace, how to proceed. The choice is always up to you.”
She takes in Alorn’s words, then nods, giving him a small smile.
“What did you mean ‘or goddess?’” asks Reiko.
“Instead of a lover, Aeyan would have a sister to rule beside her,” replies Vilzen.
The mage opens the box, grabbing everyone’s attention. He removes from it a small black pouch, like Haro’s, and unstrings it. He upends it so the contents fall onto the counter, and for a minute I expect to see black sand. Instead, an onyx stone falls out, smooth and round.
“This is the key to every doorway of every realm of Eirrell, but not to Eirrell itself,” says Vilzen. Reiko and Grace make their way back to the group, holding hands, and before Reiko can ask, Vilzen continues. “Eirrell is believed to be the first realm, the realm of the Five Nations, creators of the existing realms: Malainisi, Nortinli, Omakei, Sutha and Pathen. Each named after the Nation that represents them.”
“Every realm?” asks Haro. “I was told the key was destroyed in Velesi.”
“No,” replies Vilzen. “That key not only opens the doorways to every realm, but to Eirrell itself. It no longer exists as far as I know. This is the only key left.”
“Um,” interrupts Mellis, “there is another…in Velesi.”
Vilzen turns to him, a bit surprised by this news. “No, there’s no other like this.”
Mellis nods. “Ah, yeah, there is. The queen of Velesi wears it right here.” He taps at his wrist.
“Actually,” says Alorn, “it’s embedded into her wrist.”
“What the hell are you two talking about? There’s no other stone like this,” says Vilzen.
“Sorry, Unk,” counters Mellis, “but you’re wrong. She has the stone of Malainisi.”
“Malainisi?” repeats the mage, almost to himself. “Hmm, and you say the new queen has it?”
“Yes,” replies Alorn, an undertone of warning to his words. “And it will remain with her as long as she lives.”
Vilzen stares at Alorn as he did with me earlier, pulling from the warrior his secrets. But unlike me, Alorn doesn’t look away, instead daring the mage to dig further. It is Vilzen who looks away, but not without giving Alorn a warning look of his own.
“If you have the key to open the doors to every realm, then how did Jleroh come through?” asks Grace. “And how did the…what did you call them?” she asks, looking at me, “the Elders? How did they get Andrew and Reiko back here?”
“Jleroh had help,” says Vilzen. “This may be the only key, and whoever has it can travel between the realms. But there are lesser stones that can be found. Gather enough of them and the knowledge,” he says pointedly at Reiko, “to use them, they can open smaller portals. However, once you go through them they will collapse, sealing off the way back. The same way the Elders opened the gateway for you two.”
“Ah,” says Grace, finally understanding our need for the mage. Her intrigue evident, she asks, “You said Five Nations, but you didn’t include Velesi with the other realms.”
“Velesi is different,” he answers. “Different in that it wasn’t created by the laws of the Five Nations, but by a war between the sons of the first being, Kilrith. The war ripped off a piece of Eirrell to create Velesi, the power to do so granted by Kilrith himself to his youngest son. It was the only way to prevent war among the Five Nations. He sacrificed his sons and those involved to save Eirrell, including my sister.”
A soft sound escapes Mellis, like a heavy sigh, but neither he nor Alorn say a word. They only stare at the mage, something silent and secretive passing between them. Not my story, so I leave it alone.
“When do we leave?” asks Haro, concern in his voice.
“What is it?” I ask, reading his subtle body language.
“I don’t know, Andu,” he replies. “I can’t place it.”
Vilzen lifts his chin as if sniffing the air. He closes his eyes and everyone in the room holds their breath. He opens his eyes, turning to Haro. “You’re right. There are Skytes in the neighborhood. Someone is using some serious black magic to track you here.”
“Morfais,” says Haro, just as my aunt’s new husband comes to mind.
“Morfais?” says Vilzen, his interest piqued. “What of him?”
“He married my aunt a month before Anlus died. We,” I say, indicating myself and Haro, “believe he had my father killed, causing the Rii Challenges.”
“And,” adds Haro, “I’m sure he’ll try and take Andrew out—the only one standing between him and the throne to Kolarii.”
I’m a bit surprised by that, but it makes sense. I wonder why Haro didn’t share this with me first, but then again he probably thought I already made the connection, as I should have.
Alorn interrupts. “Mellis and I will take care of the Skytes.”
“Do you think they’ll find us here? What of your Maggie?” asks Grace.
“No,” says Vilzen to Alorn. “Don’t worry about them—it’ll be handled.” He then turns to Grace with a grateful smile. “Thank you, but she is the safest person in all the realms. No one will touch her.”
I look at Vilzen and repeat Haro’s words. “When do we leave?”
Vilzen returns the box to the mantle. “Tomorrow, after I have my breakfast with Maggie.”
~ * ~
Chapter Twenty-Two
~ Grace ~
