Chapter 2

Log 2.1

4 Naonius of the hot season

Gardamaar, the Temple of Darkonus, the throne room, 19:37

I’ve got you!

The dark priestess smiled in the dimness. She’d closed her eyes while she meditated, but now she needed light. She reached out and touched the sphere to the left of her throne.

“Maximum power,” she said matter-of-factly. Bluish light illuminated the throne. She blinked against the radiant ball. The pain in her irises gradually receded, subdued by the soothing spell. Her face—as gray as high-grade marble—was reflected in the metal base. You still eliminate pain ... you’re still pretty, she said to it. Once, they’d foretold her that such a face would shoot her up the ranks of the Dark Elves. Yet she’d never suspected how high she would fly. Now Kaela Arshadian was High Priestess of Darkonus. During the day, her body was encased in a metal cast. She could lead the Dark Army when she was not connected to the throne too, but in her armor she had full control over the warriors.

When one pursues a dream, one must sacrifice. The saying of her people filled her throat with bile. Then icy prickles crawled up the back of her head. There was someone else in the throne room. Back in the shadows stood— Argoroth.

“I found it,” said Kaela.

“What?” Argoroth’s deep bass, which seemed to erupt out of the abyss of infinity, made her forget everything else. She’d gotten used to this voice, but it changed all the time and made her feel vulnerable.

“That which shall bring us closer to our master!” Her melodic tone contrasted his. Kaela turned her head toward the shadow in the middle of the oval hall. “Or, more precisely, him to us.”

The shadow stirred and came forward. Its outlines blurred beyond the glow from the crystals on the walls.

“Turn off,” said Kaela to the sphere. She preferred that Argoroth stay in the dark.

“I want it!” The presence came closer, looming above her. The curved horns, the purple skin with its veins pulsing, not with blood, but with the very essence of evil, and the gnarled body marked him out as different from any race inhabiting Aurelion. He was a demon. A monster told of in the tales of poets and mystics from the Higher Races.

“Hasty acts will only harm us, Argoroth,” said Kaela. “This time is different. I found precisely what we have been looking for.”

The priestess’s calm, cool voice placated the demon, but only partially. Argoroth tilted his helmeted head and looked Kaela in the eye. His fetid breath wafted at her.

“Then?” The monster placed his brawny arm on the throne pedestal. His broad chest was covered by an armor made of the same metal as the helmet. His right hand ended at the wrist. An energy heavygun was fitted to the stump. “Let me hear!”

Kaela stared at the sensor attached to his helmet to replace his lost eyes. This creature had survived more than a single era. A veritable relict. He’d sown evil on Aurelion in the dawn of time and reaped its fruit during ages of tumult.

“Have patience. Soon you shall see,” she hissed. One of the six metal tentacles on her head rose to the oval ceiling. There, along the rim of the hall, were the skulls of the best elven warriors who’d ever walked the underground world. The tentacle stopped by a skull. A violet light appeared on it. The tentacle sunk into the skull, and the crystals at the bottom of its sockets lit up.

{Valerion!}

The young Dark Elf dropped the double-edged sword with which he’d been attacking the moving target. The dull pain and the familiar voice which had invaded his mind brought him down to his knees. He pressed his hands against his temples.

{Yes, Your Darkness!} he said mentally, lifting his sword. {I’m on my way!}

He rose nimbly, and his body, wrapped in a light armor made of roteher hide, straightened like a string. Valerion pressed a nearly invisible button on the hilt, and his sword split into two blades. He sheathed them in the scabbards on his back and headed for the center of the underground city of Gardamaar, where the Temple of Darkonus waited.

As he passed through a huge dome, memories surged. Fragments of images flurried by, defiling the peace that had come to his soul in the solitude of his workout. He enjoyed staying away from everyone and everything, but he could rarely indulge himself. “A new mission?” he gritted.

Valerion hated Kaela with all of his soul—although he doubted he had a soul. Considering how I was b— made. There, he would have said ‘born’ again. Life was supposed to be born. Up until age five, Valerion had hoped that sooner or later his parents would arrive to pick him up from the sector for abandoned children. He believed that since the other young Dark Elves had a mom and dad, so must he. He was nimble and supple, a genuine little boy, just like everyone born of woman. He was alive, but now he knew he hadn’t come to the world as a result of someone’s love. Made in a lab! Created out of a drop of blood spilled onto enchanted soil.

They said he was unique. In five days, the blood had turned into an embryo, and in another five, into a newborn Dark Elf. An extraordinary occurrence in the Hatcheries.

He’d been to the Hatcheries. He’d watched the process of creation. The embryo, made from a drop of donated blood, grew up as an element of the enchanted soil: its muscles and skin developed from the mud particles, day by day. At the end of the process, the dirt fell off the mature individual on its own, leaving behind an Earth Elf, more resilient than his normally-conceived brethren, yet almost incapable of using magic.

I’m not like them either ... Unique.

A lot of the ‘produced’ elves died shortly after their ‘birth’ of genetic anomalies, but those who survived the first year lived almost as long as the ordinary ones. They filled in the ranks of Kaela’s Dark Army. However, none of them ever advanced, even to preonor. Valerion was the only one who’d climbed the ranks and now, by order of Kaela, he’d been promoted to one of the fifty Dark Decanors.

The elf tossed his silver hair away from his eyes, slowing down. Why me? Right, my silly eternal question.

He’d been different from the start. They said he’d been raised like an ordinary child, although in a sector for children without parents. They also said he was cleverer, more agile, even more handsome than most normally-born Dark Elves. He’d been trained under a specially designed curriculum and had achieved far more than expected. Yet all of this, even the decanor promotion, only confused and unsettled him.

“New murders!” he muttered, trying to disentangle himself from his thoughts.

He was approaching the Temple of Darkonus: an enormous black crystal hanging like a stalactite from a jagged stone ceiling. He climbed a staircase into the hollow of a column and crossed over to the rope bridge to the side entrance of the temple. There was another spiral staircase. Once he was at the top, the sight enthralled him, as usual. The blue glow of this calm piece of Gardamaar gave him solace: the stalactites and stalagmites with their gleaming tips, the solitary bridges, and the silence that cured one’s conscience.

Until Kaela’s voice explodes inside your head. Valerion hurried up.

The myriad of crystal tunnels and rooms had been created millennia ago by the Dark Elves’ progenitor, Xardam, who’d led his followers deep underground. The ancient mage’s labor had since been joined to the technological miracles of modern times, here disguising, there boosting magical power.

The great metal door of the Throne Room swung open with a sinister hiss, and Valerion stepped inside, among five Earth Elves in combat uniforms.

“At last!” The High Priestess stared at him penetratingly, but he hid his thoughts. The old trick warded off her telepathic prying like a wall. “It’s time to tell you why I have summoned you.”

Log 2.2

4 Helior of the hot season

Solnricht, Rad’s apartment, 00:10

When he invited them into his place, Rad tried to appear hospitable. “Come on in,” he said almost warmly. “If you’re hungry, the kitchen’s over there, on the left.” He pointed at the arch near the large energy display in the living room.

“Nice den you’ve got here.” Kia slowly looked around. Her sensors registered every detail of the luxurious apartment. “Especially for a scholar.”

“I work in my spare time,” Rad said irritably, while Mephodi went somewhere inside.

“Is there any point in asking who your employer is?” Kia wheezed.

“You won’t know them,” Rad retorted.

“Kia, I’m hungry!” Aik squeezed her glove. Perhaps he was trying to stave off the quarrel—and he’d surely not refuse a meal. Especially if it wasn’t hair soup.

“I told you where the kitchen is.” Rad glared at them and went to look for Mephodi.

When Kia settled into the comfy chair in the kitchen, she sighed. “I didn’t think I could get that tired.” She was burning to take the helmet off and make a few sandwiches for Aik without sounding or looking like a monster. That would cheer me up ... set my thinking straight. When you start doing, you stop worrying.

“Are you better now?” she asked Aik. This voice, so reassuring.

“Yeah!” The child was doing great without her help. He ferreted out of the cooling cabinets a few cans of first-rate pâté, pieces of day-old bread, and utensils. It was fascinating to watch him arranging them on the table, which reached nearly as high as his nose.

Kia pondered the future. While she wore the suit, she didn’t need any food. It was a life-support system indeed, but in order to use all its functions, she had to pass by her mentor’s base. I need lightguns. A quality jetpack. I can get them only from Dorios. Who else can I trust?

Aik peeked over the edge of the table. “Aren’t you gonna eat?”

“I’m not hungry,” Kia said.

The elf looked fine. His pale face had taken on a ruddy complexion, and his eyes shone with satisfaction. He must have been very hungry. Kia felt that unfamiliar flutter in her chest again. She’d never cared how another person felt up until now.

“Let’s talk while you eat.” She wondered where to begin. “I’ve lost my lightguns and jetpack. We’re on the twelfth floor. Whatever happens, we can’t jump out.”

“Depends on who’s passing under,” grinned Aik, pointing at a dwarf whizzing by in a jet sleigh. “Some fly pretty high.”

Kia ignored the joke. “Do not underestimate danger, Aik,” her modulator wheezed. “We’re trapped here. And the paladins outside won’t let us slip away again! We must hide that blasted coin you’re carrying. These scholars are going to drag us along. Once we escape the city, you can give it to them.”

“I’m not giving it away! It’s my talisman!” The child wrinkled his snub nose, wiped a hand on his sweater, and took the coin out of his pants pocket. His eyes never let go of Kia. Perhaps he checked if she was trying to trick him.

“Come on, Aik! I let you come with me even before I knew.”

“And you protected me when I tried to, um, snatch that wallet. Then you let me keep it, but the paladins took it. It’s their way. They steal from thieves and think it’s legal.”

“It’s just a coin. No point in dying for it.”

The child stared at her, but there was trust in his eyes. “I’m not going to die!” He sat on the floor, slipped his shoe off, lifted the insole with his thin fingers, and thrust the coin deep inside. Then he put his shoe on and sprang up. His head bumped against the edge of the table. It bounced, and the folding tabletop tilted, spilling food and utensils across the floor.

“Aik!” Kia rushed to help him, but the elf simply stuck his tongue out at her, rubbing at the sore spot. He thrust his finger into a can of pâté and smeared it over her visor.

“I’m gonna kill you!” Kia grabbed at him. Laughing wildly, Aik slipped under the table. Each time Kia was just about to catch him, he disappeared and reappeared at the other side.

“Aik, stop playing! I want to talk with you.” Kia wiped her visor clean with a napkin she found next to the kitchen sink. The next thing she saw was the pâté can flying at her helmet, to the accompaniment of an all too familiar raspberry noise. She realized she couldn’t get mad for real. Aik’s beaming face and ringing laughter compelled her to take part in the game or at least bear with it for a while.

“Who’s your daddy now?” Kia flung an unfinished sandwich at him. It hit him bang in the face, and her hoarse laughter came out unnatural and choppy. But the child giggled even louder.

In the guest room, Rad and Mephodi’s conversation turned serious.

“I feel exhausted all of a sudden. Must be the spell I used on that guy ... Raphael.” Mephodi shifted into a more comfortable position on the sofa and sighed.

“Could be.” Rad’s face looked grave. A shadow of concern slunk into his eyes. “The concentration of magic decreases by the day. We’ll soon be getting tired by the simplest spells.”

“And later on, the influx of magical energy will stop altogether, leaving us all but useless,” Mephodi finished, gazing out the single window. Outside, the city looked like a fairyland of varicolored lights. Its life filled him with tranquility—provided he watched it from a distance. “It’s a pity we don’t know the reason for any of this. Nothing happens by chance. Perhaps if we knew more, we’d come up with some plan of action.”

“Perhaps,” Rad said morosely. “But now everything’s just fodder for the army of street warriors. Do any of them know why magic’s going away? They scrawl their silly graffiti everywhere. They don’t care that Solnricht won’t have anywhere to dump its trash soon. You can’t destroy that much trash without top-notch magic.”

“If you try telling the truth to those two, I think they’ll see your point,” Mephodi said gently.

“What, didn’t you watch me trying?” Rad snapped. “The shrimp seems glued to the coin. His talisman, my ... ugh! And that tin can nearly killed me. No! I’ve got other plans.”

Mephodi shot him a surprised look.

“All right, I brought them here alright,” Rad went on more quietly. “Here’s what we do now. I’ll go and bamboozle them. I want you to take over the tin can’s mind and make him make the shrimp give me the coin.”

“Rad! I can’t! On one hand, I don’t know if I can manage that much. That spell depleted me. On the other, I do know that I shouldn’t try. They’ll give the coin back. They will, sooner or later.”

“I don’t care what you know or don’t know!” Rad’s eyes lit up. “I want the coin now!”

“I’m not going to do that a second time,” Mephodi said, quietly yet firmly.

“Even if I beg you to?” His friend’s tone grew more accommodating. His emotions changed like a chameleon’s skin. “You won’t say no to your best buddy, will you? Think about it. This way, you help both me and them. Who knows what harm the coin will get them into. They don’t know zilch about it. They don’t need it.”

While he considered, Mephodi realized he knew nothing about the coin. He’d find out more only after he saw it; and so he sat there quietly. At last, however, curiosity got the better of him. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll try the carrot first. Then we’ll see.” A dark smile sprang on Rad’s face. “Come on, let’s be done with this!”

Kia was trying to remove the splotches of pâté from the kitchen floor and walls. She hadn’t had so much fun in years. In fact, she barely remembered any times like this. She might have played with someone when she’d been very young, but she had no real memories of it. She scraped off the last remnants of a sandwich from a cupboard and turned to see what Aik was doing. A smile appeared under her helmet. The child diligently scrubbed the floor with a wet towel which he’d wrapped around his large sneakers. He wore a serious, concentrated expression.

“What’s been going on here?” The question startled them both. Kia and Aik turned to the arch where the black-haired mage stood, his arms crossed. “I’m waiting for an explanation.”

Kia prepared to answer, but Aik was faster. “We’d opened the window,” the child fibbed. “To let some fresh air in, remember I felt weak ... Then, suddenly, a jet sleigh whizzed outside and blew the food off the table.”

Rad shifted and came out from under the arch. The shadow which had hidden his face vanished in the bright kitchen light. Various feelings battled on his face. “Fine,” he said finally. “Assume I believe you.”

Kia managed to sigh without the modulator giving her away. She glanced at Aik, marveling at his wits. That fairy tale about the jet sleigh was way cleverer than the lie she’d come up with.

“And now,” their host went on, his voice calm again, “after you’ve had your rest and hopefully eaten your fill, it’s time you paid your debt.” He extended his palm to the child. “The coin please!”

Aik stepped back, looking embarrassed.

“You surely don’t think your petty meal is worth as much as this coin?” Kia’s modulator snorted. “We may decide to give it back, but it’s worth at least a hundred gold credits.”

“Don’t you dare haggle with me!” Rad’s eyes tried to burn a hole into her visor. “Darkonus demon it, you’re thieves! You don’t know what you’re getting into. The coin isn’t some useless artifact. I ... had to deliver it to Marat ...” He stopped with an uncomfortable look, but neither Kia nor the child reacted to the name. “... An influential man in Solnricht. My employer’s warned me. It’s my neck on the line!”

Aik blinked in confusion. He looked nearly poised to return the coin, but then he recoiled. He squeezed Kia’s hand as he slipped his feet out of the towel. Apparently he approved of her idea to ask for a ransom.

“There’s another option,” Kia wheezed. “Get us away from Solnricht, and you’ll get the coin without any further trouble.” I’m going nuts! I haven’t got a lightgun and I’m bargaining with a mage! At his place! For his own coin! Her pulse echoed inside the helmet.

Rad walked across the kitchen with an inscrutable face. “I tried the carrot, but these two have got neither conscience nor brains,” he said. Mephodi, who’d been waiting in the shadows of the corridor, stirred. Rad looked at him. “You’ll have to cast the spe—ck!”

Kia and Aik stepped back as Rad’s hands fluttered to his chest. Underneath, his robe was quickly turning scarlet.

“Rad!” Mephodi darted to the body as it slid down the wall. A bolt from an energy fargun hissed past his head and melted a piece of the metal cupboard behind him. The sniper missed once more, shooting the screen instead of Mephodi.

Kia pushed Aik behind herself, clutching his sleeve. If the next one hits ... me or him ...

“Kia, what do we do?” Aik’s frightened voice brought her back.

She spun to the rigid mage. “Let’s go! He’s dead, Mephodi!” she growled. “There’s a child with us!”

Mephodi stared at her blankly, but followed suit, crouching to the floor. She pushed Aik’s head down to keep him from peeking. They crawled toward the bedroom. Just as they reached it, the sound of a shattering window told them that the attackers had broken into the apartment. Kia grabbed Aik and shoved him into the nearest cupboard.

“Hey! Don’t leave me!” the child cried as she closed the cupboard door.

“You keep quiet,” Kia said.

Catching sight of an attacker’s cloak, she froze still. He must be a bounty hunter. Another dark figure crossed the corridor. Kia snatched a kobold totem propped against the wardrobe. It was the only weapon around. Must keep them away from the cupboard!

As soon as the attacker spotted her, she swung the totem at his face. The elf parried with his odd sword: broad and tapering. She stepped back. The cupboard remained exposed, and her heart skipped a beat when its door was set ajar by a peering Aik. The child saw her, grinned, and flung the door open, tripping the attacker, who fell down straight at Kia. This time, she didn’t miss his head. The totem was solid, and the elf sprawled unconscious by the bed.

“Hide at once!” said Kia to the child.

Aik slid under the bed. He peered from there ... and his eyes bulged. Right in front of his face lay the elf’s face, two steely irises staring glassily. A pair of sunglasses had dropped a step away. Aik doubled up, clutching his stomach.

“Are you sick?” Kia shouted, glancing around. “Hold on!”

“I’m okay now,” Aik said and slid farther away under the bed.

“Why there?” the modulator gurgled. The child had chosen the worst hiding place. Kia stepped onto the bed in order to distract the second attacker, who’d sneaked into the room. It was another elf. She tensed. How much magic does he know? She felt oddly pleased when he lunged at her with a sword. It was a powerful blow. Kia parried, but the totem split in two. She kicked her opponent in the chest and hurled him down onto a nightstand. There was a clatter as the elf staggered. A bottle full of honey-colored liquid shattered, its content spilling on the floor.

Kia drove the two pieces of the totem into the elf’s face, breaking his sunglasses, and kicked the sword out of his hands.

“That’s spirit ... it’ll burn!” Aik cried from under the bed. “I’ve seen how it’s done, Kia!”

There was a smell of fire and alcohol.

“Aik!” Kia shouted. The fire already crept along the bedsheets. She saw the child crawling on the floor, away from the bed. She spun and finished off the rising elf with an iron fist in the temple. “Are you okay? We have to get out of here.”

Aik managed a smile, despite his fright. Kia offered him a hand and swung him up onto her back. He weighed so little that she turned her head to check if he’d slipped off. Flames raged across the room.

“Hold tight and hide your head behind the helmet,” she said, rushing out. Passing by the guest room, she noticed a shadow looming over Mephodi. “Watch out!” she and Aik shouted simultaneously.

The young mage turned, raised an arm, and sent his attacker flying at the entrance door. The elf dislodged it from its hinges, and body and door crashed on the landing.

“Wow,” said Aik.

“Keep your head down,” Kia said, heading for the exit.

Mephodi followed them backwards. Rad’s body lay in the corridor between the kitchen and the sleeping room. Kia drew back, and bumped into Mephodi as he shuffled past her. On her back, Aik shifted. As small as a jetpack, she mused. Ugh ... why is this guy standing there like a log?

The answer took the shape of two barrels leveled at them.

“Caught neatly!” The elf’s immaculate teeth shone in a spiteful smirk, reflecting the whiteness of his raincoat. He spun his lightguns around his index fingers, one after the other. “Hands up, and no more tricks.”

Kia did as told. She still didn’t have a real weapon. She’d cast away the totem pieces, and with her hands up it was easier to keep Aik from peering past the helmet. His fingers held her neck so lightly she barely felt them across the suit. Heck. I should’ve grabbed one of the swords at least.

Mephodi raised his arms too: very slowly, suddenly spreading his hands out. A powerful air stream lifted the smug elf, shoved him down the stairs and started banging him against the walls. He dropped his lightguns, screaming in pain. The scholar pushed the elf farther down, but an invisible force stopped the body in mid-air and gently laid it on the lower landing.

“Amateurs.” The cool voice startled the fugitives. The new elf had a dark mantle and long silver hair, cascading down freely, as fitted a mage who didn’t plan to use physical force. On his neck hung a pendant shaped like a semitransparent sphere.

Another damned enchanter. Kia gulped. Mephodi looked worried too. He was probably no match for this opponent, Besides, the guy wore sunglasses. Mages need to make eye contact for magic to work properly.

“Amateurs we are, agreed.” The scholar spread his arms.

Kia used the occasion to cross the several feet to the lift. “It doesn’t work!”

Mephodi gave a lopsided smile, like a surrender signal. He looked exhausted. Just don’t pass out ...

Helior stretched its first rays through the windows. In the corridor behind them, the fire was turning into a conflagration. It was getting hotter and smokier.

All at once, Mephodi’s gaze cleared up. His face filled with color. “Behind me! Right away!” he told his companions. “Helior!”

Two steps away from his body, a lavender field started shimmering. Kia slowly retreated behind him toward the emergency stairs. The elf who lay under the staircase propped himself up. He groaned and sank back on the floor.

“Don’t peep,” Kia whispered to Aik. She walked with her back almost pressed against the wall.

“That’s one mean scholar there! Shall I do away with him?” the elf in the white raincoat said. The silver-haired mage gave a sly smile but kept silent.

“He shouldn’t be a problem for you, Valerion,” the other one went on. His sunglasses and hair reflected the light of the rising sun. “But he is self-confident, even for a senior!”

Kia stopped short. If their attackers looked for someone, it was definitely not Mephodi or herself, because the hitmen were ready to kill them both.

There was a crackle, and the energy beam fell apart on touching the field around Mephodi.

“Creative!” the silver-haired elf said. “I wonder if it’ll stand up to heavier fire?”

Kia slid another step closer to the corner. Helior’s light, which flared against the two elves’ sunglasses, and the smoke from Rad’s burning apartment gave her an advantage. She didn’t want to abandon Mephodi, though. He was kinder and more humane than any other thinking creature she’d met, but Aik was in danger too. She slipped into the smoke, but didn’t run any farther, waiting to see what would happen to the young mage.

Two more elves came up the stairs. Their leader told them to shoot at Mephodi, but the result was the same as with the first blast. The bolts disintegrated with a crackle against the lavender glow.

The scholar glanced around and whispered, “Show time is over.” Then he strained as if he was pushing something heavy. The spell he said swept the elves away and drove them into the opposite wall, much like bass relief ornaments in a temple.

“That was amazing!” Aik said.

“Let’s get away first, give compliments later,” Kia wheezed, putting him down on the floor. Her back might not protect him while they went down the emergency stairs.

Aik’s face was serious and thoughtful. They started climbing down. Mephodi turned around for a last gaze at the burning apartment. “Forgive me, friend,” he said. There were tears in his eyes, but Kia attributed them to the smoke. She certainly wouldn’t cry for a pal like Rad.

In the early morning, Solnricht’s streets glittered under the rays of Helior. Two solitary figures in track suits jogged along the path in the nearby park. Kia lifted Aik on her shoulders again. The child looked gloomy and sleepy. Nevertheless, he grumbled that he wanted to get down because he had his own legs and could use them.

“We need transportation,” Kia said.

“Close by ... there’s a station,” Mephodi gasped out. “A scarlet exclamation point ... Rad ... All that was left ...”

Kia closed her eyes for an instant. She could still see Rad’s bloody trail along the wall.

“I suggest this one!” She tossed her head and pointed at a crimson powermobile. “Let’s see if we can open it.”

With a soft buzz, a small picklock emerged from the armored sleeve. Kia’s hand skillfully slid along the edge of the semispherical window. There was a hiss. Quietly and quickly, the window opened.

“You steal also ...?” Mephodi swayed his head, letting the thought trail off. Kia peeped into the compartment. There were only two seats and some baggage space.

“That was worth watching,” Aik said.

“How many crimes ... yet?” the mage whispered.

“As many as it takes to get away from this blasted megalopolis,” Kia rumbled. “Don’t see why I should be defending myself. While young children are forced to beg and steal so they can fill their bellies.”

She carefully removed Aik from her shoulders and placed him on the small baggage platform. “You’ll have to sit here. Are you comfortable?” she wheezed, a bit more kindly.

“It’ll do!” The child smiled, stretched, and turned out to be just small enough to fit.

“Try and get some shut-eye while we travel,” Kia said, sitting in the driver’s seat. Mephodi sat down next to her, closing his eyes. The window slid down with a quiet hiss. The engine turned on with a buzz. The mobile jerked and set off.

“Do you have ... a driving license?” Mephodi breathed.

“What for?” she growled. “I’m better than a race car driver, and as for the rest ... I’ve got a mighty mage by my side.”

Aik giggled. The scholar’s lips twisted upwards for an instant. Or did I imagine it? Kia wondered, bringing her eyes back on the road.

“Where’re you taking us?” Mephodi said, rising slightly.

“Far away from here.” Actually, I haven’t got the foggiest.

She was fleeing without destination or purpose, as she usually did when things got tough. Her mentor had advised her to steer clear of the base until she’d made sure that she’d “thrown everyone off the scent.” A prison release cost a lot, and he got mad when he had to spend credits on such things. Besides, he’d never welcome three fugitives. He didn’t like children, and Aik—

This cannot be! Kia snorted quietly. She wanted to keep the young elf. She couldn’t chase him away. He was so tiny she’d barely felt him as she’d carried him, and yet he’d survived on the street. Didn’t he deserve better?

“I don’t know,” she wheezed, swerving sharply. The feelings roused by the child’s presence dragged her back to her own past. Her eyes smarted. How many times had she asked herself why? Why did the other children have everything, and she, nothing? Why did they go to school, and she stole and slunk around? Why did she get to have no dreams, slumbering in any miserable spot she could find?

“I’m taking you to a safe place,” she said resolutely.

Mephodi was staring at her dark visor. Had he guessed she was a woman? “A safe place that ... you don’t know yourself?” He turned away and groaned. “Wait! Turn right. We’ll go to the institute. Reachut Fadgnal will shelter us. I trust him completely.”

Kia turned off in the direction of the institute, but when she considered the offer, she slowed down and growled, “Aren’t you being a patsy? The institute is the first place they’re gonna look for you. Your friend is dead. This reachut, how can you be certain that he still likes you?”

“I told you I trust him!” Mephodi’s face was twisted with tension. Well, at least it’s better than thinking about ... Rad.

“Besides the paladins, we’ll also have to deal with those elves,” Kia said. “What were they? They looked like bounty hunters, but there was something wrong. Their clothes were off-the-rack, and they were going to kill you. They were looking for something.”

“Those elves will not trouble us any more,” Mephodi said coolly. “Otore’s trademark,” he muttered, but then seemed to reconsider. “I don’t suppose the paladins will find us so early in the morning. They’ll investigate the dorm and private lodgings first, and that’ll take them quite some time.” He turned to look at the silent child, who’d curled up into a ball and seemed asleep. “Besides, we’re finally going to find out what the deal is about this coin,” he said quietly.

The coin, is it then? You can’t take your mind off it either. You’re not a bully, unlike Rad, but you’re a miserable enchanter. Must keep an eye on you. I won’t become a laughing stock, like that quadronor. “If Aik gives you the coin, can you discover its purpose?” she said aloud, turning her visor to Mephodi. She drove slowly, and they were still some way from the institute, so she had enough time for a last-minute change of plans.

“I’ll do my best,” he said, pressing the tips of his forefingers together.

The mobile turned left and moved sluggishly along a sandy road. Abandoned run-down sheds lined its sides. Kia parked right next to a metal structure covered by yellow rust and turned to Aik.

“Why did we stop?” the child mumbled drowsily. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes with his fists hidden inside the baggy sleeves.

“The coin is still on you, isn’t it, Aik?”

The elf muttered something across a long yawn.

“Aik?” Kia urged him. He closed his eyes. “You must let him see it.” Her voice sounded a bit more sharply than she’d wished.

“Okay, fine!” Reluctantly, Aik slipped off his shoe. He took the coin out of its current shelter and passed it to Kia with a hurt look.

“We aren’t going to take it away, I promise you,” Kia said.

“He’s probably already forgotten how he came by his talisman.” The blond mage gave the child a stern look. “Besides, he has no idea about the danger that surrounds this coin.”

In fact, they all did now. Rad had died because of the coin. People were after them, because of it, not their petty crimes.

Mephodi reached out to Kia.

“Careful what you do,” she said.

The scholar turned his expressionless gaze to the small object. He ran a finger across the engraved image of a temple and closed his eyes. Immediately, his body convulsed. His face contorted in pain. He cried and dropped the coin, while somewhere at the back, Aik was screaming, fully awake now, “What happened? Kia, tell me what happened!”

“What happened?” the modulator echoed.

“I do not know,” Mephodi breathed. His face relaxed, then grew puzzled. “The coin seems to be protected by a spell preventing me from reading its inscription. My gift is extraordinarily uncommon. Protection against such a gift must have been done for a good reason.”

“Give it back!” Aik shouted. “I don’t get sick when I hold it. Give it back to me!”

Kia picked up the coin and handed it to him. The child hadn’t slept during the night; no wonder he was acting grouchy.

“Get some rest, Aik,” she said. “Try to sleep as much as you can. We won’t bother you anymore.”

Mephodi was massaging his forehead. “We have to go to the institute,” he said with conviction. “At least there we stand a chance to find the answers we need.”

Aik had cached the coin somewhere and curled up as before. Kia glanced at him through her visor. He’s a dot of a child. What am I gonna do with him? He’s not a toy. I can’t chuck him if I get tired of him. Darkonus demon it!

“Are we going?” Mephodi stared at her expectantly.

“I guess you’ve made your point. Let’s get to your blasted institute,” her voice rumbled.

Log 2.3

4 Helior of the hot season

Solnricht, the landing in front of Rad’s apartment, 05:30

Valerion opened his eyes and tried to stir. A shrill sound bored a hole into his brain. His breath drowned in an icy stream. He was literally driven into the wall of a lift landing. The water spouted from the ceiling. He knew that as soon as he recognized the shriek. The fire alarm system!

Recalling the past events, he strained to focus his mind and magic power. He managed to break free and fell to his knees, in the midst of gushing water, wet plaster and bits of bricks. He set to extinguish the smoldering fire. Several short spells let him regain his senses. His long shadow loomed one last time among the water jets, and in a few seconds, the fire disappeared.

Out of the unrecognizably blackened apartment filed three elves, blessing Darkonus (and his mother) between wheezes and coughs. They had all hidden their eyes behind sunglasses. The others, whom the scholar had ‘engraved’ into the wall next to Valerion, were also coming to. Romelion swore at the enchanter. When he slumped onto the floor, released from the grip of the wall, he cursed Helior’s rays and reached inside his mantle for a spare pair of sunglasses. His eyes relaxed, but he calmed down fully only when Valerion whispered urgently, “I sense movement on the stairs!”

“Someone’s coming up,” Noterion confirmed. “Must be the fire-fighters.”

“It’s not them,” said Valerion. His auditory sensors detected a familiar sound. He couldn’t mistake the rattle of hobnailed boots. “Upwards!” He headed for the emergency stairs.

The others followed in silence. Romelion, however, couldn’t hold his tongue very long. “They’re quick on the uptake, the rotten paladins. Darkonus take them! They nosed us out fast, too fast,” he muttered, sliding his hand along the metal rail. He spat out and glanced over it.

Two city guards waited downstairs.

Valerion, not one to waste time grumbling, cast a spell to push over the large stone flowerpot adorning the staircase. The crash sounded satisfactory.

“The others are inside the apartment. Get back down the stairs!” Valerion said.

“Excellent. Back and forth,” Romelion groused but followed him and the rest back to the street.

They passed by the two paladins lying unconscious among soil and flowers, sneaked out of the building, and turned down a dirty back alley.

“I’d call this operation a failure.” Zomerion tossed his violet hair back.

“And how,” grunted Valerion.

“The damned kid was a scholar! Hasn’t got a degree yet, and look what he did. He almost did us in,” Romelion grumbled.

“I thought I’d eliminated him before you broke in. I’ve never missed a target before,” Zomerion said dryly. “I saw three people. I killed the one wearing the institute uniform.”

“There were two scholars,” Valerion said through gritted teeth.

“And the tougher one remained!” Romelion added. “A puny scholar getting the upper hand on Kaela’s darling ...”

‘Kaela’s darling’ stopped in his tracks and turned his sunglasses on Romelion with an expression that kept the other elf silent for a long time.

Valerion had offered Kaela to do the job alone. It had been her idea to transform him and the attached unit into Higher Elves—to “carry out the assignment cleanly.” And it had failed, just as he had expected. Valerion knew from experience that all combatants created in the Hatcheries by the standard quick procedure exhibited defects. He called them ‘abortive copies.’ When all was said and done, they possessed not even half the skills of those from whose cells they’d been made. Valerion had watched recordings of the blood donors’ drills. He’d listened to stories of their feats and accomplishments. Yet the Hatcheries had never hatched even one great warrior whose skull would be worthy of the Higher Priestess’s throne room.

I worked my way up myself, that’s why she respects me. Because she doesn’t know my thoughts. Valerion smiled thinly. He looked at the light skin of his hands. She cast a spell on me, but what good has it done? A Higher Elf for a single day! As a child, he’d dreamed of being fair-skinned and of his eyes not fearing the light. He’d also dreamed of being magiported: a particularly rare and complex spell allowed only to the highest army ranks. The spell that Kaela had used to send them to Solnricht. He’d found out that magiportation caused dizziness and stomach spasms. What becomes of dreams ... He peered around uneasily as another alley took them away from the center of the megalopolis.

His five companions still didn’t dare speak.

“We start from scratch now,” Valerion said wryly. “We’ll find them, but this time I want you to be much more careful. Unnoticeable.”

“Of course,” Romelion grinned, and tried to pick his nose unnoticed, hiding his face with his hair. Valerion’s lips stretched tight.

Log 2.4

4 Helior of the hot season

Solnricht, the East Center expressway, 06:10

The crimson powermobile glided past the truck crawling up the slope and sped up. The Tin Man handled the leather steering wheel expertly. He’d switched to sports mode: the highest gear. Mephodi turned his eyes from the driver to the sleeping child. “You should perhaps slow down a little,” he said at last, pressing the tips of his forefingers together.

“Don’t fret,” the modulator rattled. “I’m familiar enough with these roads. I know where to slow down.”

Mephodi sighed and looked out the semicircular window. The mobile turned right. They were entering one of Solnricht’s arteries. The street lights on both sides went out in pairs—as if the mobile turned them off.

The scholar bit his lips. For him, the road back was blocked. If the paladins captured them, he would be charged with crimes he had not committed. They’ll sentence me, too. We left ... Rad ... and the other bodies. So much for our bright future. And those elves, I hope they don’t turn up again. Hopefully, the paladins caught them. They were bounty hunters. But why the sunglasses? During the night?

He turned to share his impressions with the Tin Man, but the other was faster. “That’s the institute, no?” the modulator growled, as a hand pointed at the fortress towering above the nearby buildings. Its architecture, ancient and imposing, stood out among the rest. Although the institute had been built long before the other structures, it now looked out of place.

“Of course!” Mephodi snapped. “Aren’t you from Solnricht, Darkonus—” He stopped dead. The scarlet exclamation point had flashed in his mind.

“I’ve grown up here, but a person could’ve gone to one of the satellite campuses, couldn’t they?” the Tin Man wheezed. “I know there’re several of them. Excuse me if I’ve stepped on your toes.”

“You haven’t.” Mephodi hesitated. It was the weaker scholars who went to the branches as a rule. “I hope I haven’t offended you either. We’re too tired all of us.”

“Right,” nodded the helmet.

They slowed down since they were passing through the institute garden. The Tin Man drove past two jet sleighs parked in the grass. Mephodi peered around. Customarily, there would be so many vehicles around as to hide the garden from sight. “What day’s today?” he said, not taking his eyes off the glass.

“Helior,” the driver said, indicating the switch-board display. “The fourth Helior of the hot season, to be precise.”

Mephodi barely restrained himself from slapping his own head. He’d forgotten yesterday had been the second of the three weekend days; they had to wait another day before they could see the reachut. They didn’t have that much time. The paladins must be already searching the dorms or even his apartment.

“Let’s stop here,” the Tin Man said. They were near the fortress gates, and the stolen powermobile could remain concealed behind the alva plantations surrounding the park in front of the institute. Mephodi stared at the familiar figure mincing among the shrubs.

The driver turned the engine off. The hatch hissed open overhead. The child jerked up, banged his head against the low ceiling, and groaned drowsily.

“Reachut Fadgnal!” Mephodi struggled out of the coupé and rushed to the old man.

The reachut stopped picking fruit off the purple bush. “Mephodi, I am glad to see you!” He held Mephodi in a fatherly hug and smiled kindly. “How do you fare, young man? Why are you not taking a rest today?”

“I’m fine, reachut,” Mephodi lied unwillingly. He looked at the purple fruit in Fadgnal’s hands. “Are you gathering alvae again?”

“Indeed, my son.” The old reachut put the alva into a pouch hanging on his belt. “They soothe the nerves and ameliorate pain. Old age is an ailment for which not even the greatest mage has found a cure.”

Mephodi closed his eyes momentarily. The reachut was afflicted with some illness but would not talk about it.

The old man craned his neck to see the powermobile behind him. “Would you like to introduce me to your companions?” He beamed at the elf, who’d pressed his nose against the glass dome. The child drew back, crawled onto the front seat, and leaped out, following the driver. His sparkling eyes, though sleepy still, examined the old man curiously. The man in the silver suit placed a shiny glove on his head.

Mephodi bit his lip. Only now did he realize he didn’t remember what the Tin Man was called, and the child’s name suddenly slipped his mind. “This is ...” he faltered, extending an arm toward the silver suit.

“Kia.” The wheezing voice from the modulator made Fadgnal raise an eyebrow. “Please forgive me for not making eye contact. This is a life-support suit, and I can’t take it off.”

“I see,” the old mage muttered. He turned to the child, who was stretching and yawning, at the same time. “And this young fellow here?”

“Aik!” The elf made a grave face, produced a pair of sunglasses from his deep pocket, and put them on importantly. He stuck up his nose and repeated proudly, “Just Aik, and you?”

Fadgnal burst into guttural laughter. He laughed for a long time, staring at the miniature kid, and finally wiped several tears out of his eyes. “I have always been fond of children,” he said. “They can cheer up even an old man. I am Fadgnal, Aik! Just Fadgnal, an old and tired reachut.” He turned around and led them toward the main entrance. Mephodi’s expression had told him more than any words.

“Where did you get that?”

Aik looked up at Kia. She was pointing at his dark glasses, anticipating the answer.

“Found them!” The child smiled foxily.

“Found?” the modulator wheezed.

“Yep, on the floor, when I helped you beat that elf,” Aik said importantly.

Kia’s laughter gargled out. A decent life, she thought ironically. Why does it bother me he steals? Or that he enjoys it? For him, it’s play—like it used to be for me. Darkonus demon it, isn’t it better to stay a child? The world: a big playing ground. And no worries.

“He might be dead,” Aik said a little more seriously. “That elf, he didn’t seem to breathe, when I picked up his glasses. They fell under the bed, bang next to me!”

“Nah! Don’t worry about that.” Kia squeezed his neck with her silver glove. At least you mustn’t worry. I’ve done enough wrong myself.

Ahead of them, Mephodi and Fadgnal chatted warmly, like father and son. She took Aik’s hand and quickened her pace, to keep up. The child trotted at her side, supporting the sunglasses with his free hand.

They strode across the tall gates into a vestibule with a colored marble floor. Kia’s eyes struggled to see the ceiling. Opposite them stood a smiling elf with a neatly trimmed goatee. He greeted the reachut respectfully, nodded at Mephodi, and examined Kia and the child with the curiosity of a veteran doorkeeper.

“My guests and I are going to work on a new project,” Fadgnal said. “Today is a day off, but should anyone inquire about me, let us assume I am not around.”

“Of course, reachut!” The doorkeeper bowed with a smile.

Fadgnal led them along a spacious corridor. Kia held Aik’s hand, as he looked around, tripping along. The reachut briefly explained that they were headed for the Tower of Theoreticians, and that the Institute of Magic was a very ancient edifice (“He means a building,” Kia whispered to Aik), which had survived two entire ages. That was the reason for its architecture looking different from any other in the megalopolis. Out of the main hall, Fadgnal said, six towers rose toward the sky. Five of them contained the halls for teaching various disciplines, and the sixth, the central tower, was the theological one.

Aik asked for more details. He must have thought the institute had been built for giants. The ceiling was so high above that he looked like a bug scurrying along the wide corridor illuminated by lights embedded in the walls.

Fadgnal elaborated happily. It turned out each tower belonged to a different faculty. The northern tower housed the Theory of Magic faculty. The western and eastern ones held respectively the History and Natural Science faculties. The two southern towers prepared elementalist scholars, that is, the ones who studied the natural elements of the world. They were the most numerous among all scholars. Theologists studied in the central tower and were given certain privileges. “For instance,” Fadgnal considered his audience, “they are given priority when applying for paladins. As for the rest of them, they become clergymen.”

“And everyone picks what to study ... at will?” Aik marveled.

“Precisely,” Mephodi laughed. “At first, I chose natural sciences, the elements.”

“But he advanced his knowledge by taking classes in all faculties, and both his talent and diligence set him apart,” Fadgnal added.

“Look at all the energy displays!” Aik pointed at the monitors lining two long tables. They were now walking past a spacious but almost empty room. “Why do mages need them? Don’t they have magic?”

“They do,” smiled the reachut. “But in our age, a mage cannot depend solely on magic. And these,” he nodded at the monitors, “they were donated by a dwarven corporation, but most of them do not function. They wasted too much power from the general supply.” He cleared his throat.

Yeah, Kia smiled. Donations from dwarven corporations are quite suspicious, as charity goes.

“Two boys from the third grade decided to replace the main flat crystals inside the screens with ones of their own making,” Fadgnal carried on. “Unfortunately, nothing came of that. The monitors stopped functioning entirely.”

Kia’s modulator wheezed. Aik giggled, and Mephodi gave him a cheered up smile.

“What happened to the boys?” Kia asked.

Fadgnal frowned slightly at her modulator. “What may have happened?” His eyes probed her suit from head to toe again. “They were not expelled because they had excellent grades: a rather singular occurrence nowadays. Nevertheless, part of their scholarships were frozen in order to redeem the repair fees for the monitors.”

“A just decision,” Kia wheezed; the modulator couldn’t quite disguise her irony. “Those boys weren’t to blame that the donation had been faulty in the first place.”

“The supreme reachut’s decrees are law, and no-one may question them.” For the first time since they’d met him, the old man permitted himself some sarcasm. Clearly, he didn’t care for the supreme reachut. Reachut Magentorf, though head of the whole institute, possessed minimal magic skills. It was an open secret; even Kia knew. “Even if it is unjust, if Magentorf has ordered it, we must obey.”

“He’d been recommended from on high, after all,” Mephodi mumbled.

When Aik made no comment, Mephodi went on, “Magentorf is arrogant and flaunts his connections all the time. Rad used to ridicule him often. You see, he enjoyed comparing him to a ross fly. Brrrz-mmmmm ...” Suddenly he cut himself short, and his eyes dropped to the colored tiles.

The corridor seemed endless. They passed by labs for everyday skills and all sorts of weird-sounding sciences. Aik kept begging Kia to read what the door plates said. The child was confused to find out that the magical institute had started teaching subjects that had nothing to do with magic.

“Not all reachuts like this, Aik,” Mephodi explained. “The more liberal ones, such as Fadgnal, believe it will benefit us. New knowledge is always a benefit, but as a whole, our curriculum needs reordering.”

They found themselves in front of a massive wooden door.

“How many stairs did we climb?” Aik said. “Guess I should have counted them.”

“I have brought you to the library, young inquisitor.” Fadgnal laughed.

“There’s a self-service mini-bar next door. Another genius fancy of Magentorf,” Mephodi said in a riled voice. “Some of the books in the library have gained a flavor, smell and color.”

“Notwithstanding, the library is where I and my best scholar,” Fadgnal caught Mephodi’s shoulder, “spend most of our time. Now you can take a rest and have some refreshment, in case you are hungry.” He said the last part kindly enough, but Kia understood he wanted to be left alone with Mephodi.

She also wanted to say a few words to Aik in private.

Aik opened the cooling cabinet and wrinkled his nose. He pushed his sunglasses up sulkily. “Blech, pâté again!”

“Don’t you dare think about playing that game,” Kia wheezed out, but he lazily closed the cabinet and sought the comfort of a large old armchair. He yawned noisily and stretched.

“You’re tired, I know,” Kia said. “Still, we have to clear up a few things. These people are very kind but they care only about the coin, Aik. I have no weapon and no backpack. I can’t protect you. Can’t protect myself, for that matter. I must go back to the base. To my—”

“So you do work for someone!” Aik cried.

“But I don’t have to anymore!” Kia leaned over him very carefully. She was afraid of frightening him. “I’m considering buying myself off, Aik. We can ... I don’t want you to ...” The modulator wheezed and fell silent.

“You don’t want me to steal anymore?” The child stirred in the armchair and pulled the sunglasses down onto his eyes. “No way! I’m a perfessional!”

“It’s ‘professional’!” Kia grated. “You can’t read! I saw that you can’t, and you’re so smart.”

Aik stuck out his tongue, but he put little heart into it.

“Do you understand you must go to school? You must live a normal life. Sleep in a bed, and not wherever you end up for the night!”

Kia clammed up; the topic made her voice quiver with uncertainty. The child pulled his baggy sweater over his nose, fiddled with his sunglasses and pretended he was falling asleep.

“You’re not funny, Aik!” Kia said. “We must decide what we’re gonna do. We’ve gotten ourselves into a mess which can cost us our lives. Why don’t you give them the blasted coin, and then we can be rid of Solnricht!”

“Why should I trust someone wearing a mask?” the child rumbled in an altered voice from under the sweater. He pulled it down, pouting with his thin lips. “Mephodi seems nice.”

Kia swallowed sand. Why should you trust me ... Do I know? And can I keep you? If she ever mustered the strength to leave him, she’d see his gaze in the eyes of every child along her way. For as long as she lived.

“You don’t always need a reason to be nice to someone,” the modulator wheezed.

Aik raised his sunglasses on his forehead and smiled. “You can read, right? Not just the plates—can you read everything?” he asked enthusiastically.

“I can,” Kia said. “At the base, they taught all mercenaries how to. It’s a precautionary measure. Whoever knows and can do more is better at surviving.”

“I won’t go to school!” the child announced happily. “You can read. You’ll teach me! Then I’ll become a mage and will come to this ... Fadgnal. He’s nice! I think he likes me.”

“Don’t be so rash in judging who’s nice and who’s not, Aik,” said Kia sternly. “Not everyone who treats you kindly is kind-hearted. I want to help you but I tell you everything I think. I say it even when I see you don’t like hearing it.”

“In this voice!” Aik giggled and pointed at the modulator. “It can’t be real.”

Kia wanted to say that wasn’t what mattered at the moment, but just then, Mephodi walked in, followed by the reachut.

“I just learned that you found these sunglasses in the apartment,” the scholar began directly. “You took them from Rad’s place. Would you mind telling me where exactly did you ... filch them from?”

“I found them!” Aik protested, taking off the sunglasses and hiding them behind his back. “When that awful elf with the scary eyes fell by the bed. If Kia hadn’t—”

“Why did you think his eyes were scary?” Fadgnal interrupted him.

“Well, they were. All bloodshot and with horrible silver pupils. I know about these elves. They’re called Dark and live underground, but that one had white skin.” Aik winced. “Enough to make you sick!”

“Dark Elves!” Fadgnal said. He and Mephodi exchanged glances. “It is precisely as I expected, but what do Dark Elves seek here?”

“Perhaps what I have,” Aik threw in importantly.

“Will he allow us to see the coin again?” Mephodi asked Kia. He looked plainly reluctant: having to ask a pilfering kid to show them his loot, and through an intermediary too.

The child pouted. He yawned jerkily, and his long lashes fell down over tired eyes. “Aik doesn’t allow!” he muttered, shuffling in the armchair.

“And if I promise to return it immediately?” said Fadgnal courteously, hardly swallowing his laughter.

“I’ll think about it!” Aik got up sluggishly, rummaged around a pocket, his arm sinking in almost up to the elbow, and handed the coin to the reachut. “He gets sick when he takes it,” he said, pointing at Mephodi.

“Hmm.” Fadgnal weighed the coin, placing it on his left hand. He grasped it with two fingers and brought it to his eyes, squinting. “I recall seeing it for the first time nearly seventy years ago.”

“The same coin?” Mephodi said.

The old man nodded absently. He started pacing to and fro, gripping the coin. His eyes wandered between it and the scholar and his companions. “I had just completed my degree in Theory of Magic and was preparing to apply for a reachut’s position at the institute. The day they brought this coin, I was sitting right here, in the library.” He motioned at the next room. “I was looking over the required tests. Leonard, a dear friend of mine, who studied theology, dragged me outside, insisting that I should hide inside the niche located in the hall of the Higher Council of Magic. He himself had secured a hiding place in the vicinity of the Central Circle—”

“With all due respect, reachut, could you fast-forward to the purpose of the coin itself?” Kia wheezed. “Perhaps we haven’t got enough time to listen to all the feats of your youth.”

Fadgnal’s angry look confused her. Did I go too far? Can an experienced mage see through this visor?

“This,” the old man raised the coin high, “is the key to a place regarded by many as a fount of knowledge capable of changing our entire world. No coin but a key ... Of course, the place I am referring to cannot be found on any modern map. It is the Temple of Nekros.”

“Who’s Nekros?” Aik cried. “Why does his name sound kind of ... nasty?”

Mephodi and Fadgnal exchanged looks. The reachut nodded at the scholar.

“Nekros was an ... ex-scholar,” Mephodi began. “He graduated from this institute and began searching for ways to reanimate a dead body. In short, he succeeded, but in the process he turned himself into an undead, though one holding exceptional power. He is regarded as a god among the walking dead, but he is destined to eternal suffering. I have no clue what parts of this legend are true.”

“And the temple? Where is it?” Aik’s vibrant voice came as a welcome change in the silence that had set in.

“Nobody knows the precise location. After they brought the coin-key to the institute, the council dispatched a special fellowship to seek out the temple. They guarded the key with spells of the highest level, yet it disappeared shortly after it had been discovered.” Fadgnal sighed, resting his eyes on Kia’s visor. “Someone found a way to steal it. It is an outright wonder that the key ended up with you by theft, of all things.”

The child kept staring at his hand. Fadgnal passed the coin to him. “The only clue we have about the temple is that its whereabouts are in the Dead Woods. The closest city is Niddo. Five years ago, I received a map which appears to be accurate, but I cannot attest it.”

Fadgnal walked out of the room, leaving Kia to her puzzled thoughts. Aik blinked and huddled in the deep armchair. He’d probably fall asleep again, but the old man came back quickly.

“Here it is!” He produced a tattered scroll. “It indicates the location of the temple.” He handed it over to Mephodi and settled himself into the farthest armchair.

“What are these arrows?” Aik pointed at the corner of the map, peeking over Mephodi’s sleeve.

“They show the world directions,” Mephodi said.

“I brought you a map but forgot the compass ...” Fadgnal went out again, and returned even more quickly, bringing a small metal box along.

Aik waited for the young scholar to open it and asked, “Will this show us where we should go?”

“It will help us gain our bearings.”

“This temple ...” Aik stretched, spreading his baggy sweater all across the armchair. “Is it so important?”

“The coin has had a strange story,” Fadgnal spoke from where he sat. “It was taken from us, but obviously has not benefited the thief. Poor Rad, as far as I could make out from Mephodi’s tale, purchased it from a desperate mercenary at a fair price. He made arrangements to deliver it to a certain not-too-reliable politician, who would probably win more voters over with promises of restoring magic through uncovering Nekros’s secrets. Subsequently, Rad lost the valuable object shortly before losing his own life. However, the coin has clung to you, and that is quite remarkable, Aik. Even in prison, where paladins do not leave valuables on any inmate, it stayed with you. Now our politician and his cronies do not know who possesses the coin. Should they find out that paladins and Dark Elves have been embroiled in this affair, they will give up their claims, since they are still smaller than ikkis compared to the other claimants. All that befell you last night is astonishing, and as we know, there are no accidents in this world. Magic grows weak. The key to the Temple of Nekros may prove to be our only hope for enlightenment. Even if we cannot set things straight, it is proper that we at least try to fathom out what is happening to our world.”

“To risk our lives for this?” Kia wheezed. “No, thanks! I’m doing fine without magic. And I have more pressing worries than looking for a forgotten temple on a map that’s probably fake.”

“Indeed.” Fadgnal smiled sadly. “The fate of the world is of far less significance than hiding from the paladins until your next crime. I shall not force you into a decision. Everyone has the sacred right of choice.”

Kia sighed, suppressing the urge to start screaming. Mephodi stared at her accusingly. Aik’s brilliant eyes were also fixed on her visor. Whatever he might say, the child seemed to rely on her help mostly. She’d been the only one to promise she’d protect him. I told him he must study. He agreed ... I’m bound already. Can’t take hope away from him ... They’ll catch me! Sooner or later, the paladins will. Aik will be left on the street, and Mephodi ... he will get lost, looking for the disappearing magic. But he’s a powerful mage. He can protect us. At least before magic has run out. I hate it!

“Count me in.” Kia lifted her arms in surrender.

Aik’s eyelids dropped in relief.

“Excellent!” The old man got up spryly. He went to Mephodi, squeezed his elbow, and carried on in a fatherly voice, “You must depart immediately, my boy! Your powermobile is stolen, and paladins are pursuing you. I shall exert all of my powers to lead them astray. Leave Solnricht, abandon the powermobile, and find a place to get some rest. The child is very tired.”

When they walked out into the corridor, Mephodi chose to lead the way. Perhaps he wanted to think over things.

Fadgnal had given them a direction, but was that actually help? The situation must be grave, Kia thought. Magic is in danger. Otherwise, the reachut wouldn’t send us to that temple ... not his favorite pupil anyway. We must be his last hope.

Aik shuffled gloomily behind Mephodi, turning now and then to make sure Kia followed him. Staring at his thin back, she tried not to plan his future. This is going to delay things a bit. Mephodi’s with us, this mission ... I’ll be able to think it over along the way. I’ll get close to the child. Haven’t got credits to raise him, they’ll all go for my ransom. But I’ll have time. Guess that’s what I need right now.

“I know who you are.” The auditory sensors picked up the quiet whisper from behind her. She started up, turned round, and saw the reachut’s kind face. There was no condemnation in his eyes now. Only compassion. “I won’t reveal your identity. You will yourself, when you are ready.”

Kia peered around. Mephodi and Aik hadn’t heard anything. She sought the reachut’s eyes again and found the sparks of wisdom gained over decades.

“You cannot hide forever, Kia,” he whispered. “You cannot live in fear and lies because of your past. Everyone walks the road to her own future alone, yet the people whom she meets, and grows fond of, are crucial. They are part of that future. Take care of them.”

The visor gave the faintest of nods. Kia turned back, caught up with Aik, and walked side by side with him toward the exit. The child turned his drowsy face to her and smiled sweetly.

“You’ll sleep as I drive,” she wheezed very softly. “In fact, you and Mephodi are gonna have some good rest in the mobile—and then we’re gonna look for a safe shelter. Adventures can wait for a night.”

They arrived at the main entrance. Fadgnal broke away from the group and opened the door with the “Doorkeeper” sign on it. The small room was occupied by the guard with the goatee, now wearing black headphones. Several plastic boxes were scattered on the wooden table next to him.

“We are leaving, Eroy,” the old mage said softly and crossed his arms in anticipation. The doorkeeper responded nothing, merely turning idly. But as soon as he saw the reachut, a respectful smile sprang to his face. “Reachut Fadgnal!” he said brightly, removing the headphones. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. Was listenin’ to a hyper cool dwarven band ... Are you done with your work?”

Fadgnal looked at the box with the music chip. Its cover was graced by a picture of five slovenly dwarves.

“They rock,” Eroy nodded happily.

The old mage smiled benevolently. He felt glad young people were quick to forget. Eroy seemed to have no recollection of the recent conflicts between elves and dwarves. “Wonderful!” Fadgnal tapped the elf on the shoulder. “We still have some tasks outside. Will you please open the door?”

“O’course, reachut!” Eroy sprang to his feet and spun to the numerous rows of buttons on the switchboard behind his chair.

“And I would like you to bear this in mind,” Fadgnal said as he walked out. “I am willing to accept you at any moment. My faculty has a place for another bright young man. Do not squander your time like this.”

The elf nodded and punched a combination of numbers on the buttons. Then he raised a hand toward the boxes on the table and arranged them, with a spell. Another spell “summoned” the headphones to his palm. Outside, the reachut sighed. He had often noticed Eroy’s facility for using magic, yet the young man did not appear inclined to serious studies. He is wasting his gift at a time when few possess it to such a degree. Well, criticism would be of no avail. Today’s youth did not take advice or reproach favorably.

Mephodi and his companions waited in front of the open gate. I cannot go with them. Alas! I am too old for this quest. Mephodi, Mephodi ... I wish I had a son like you. And I wish I could give you more—now, in the hour of your greatest need ...

They hurried toward the garden. Mephodi, who strode first, suddenly stopped short. His back stiffened. Aik stole a glance at Kia just as she saw what was going on. They raised their hands against the barrels of the energy quickguns leveled at them. Three paladins grinned at them cynically.

“There they are! Our valiant fugitives,” said quadronor Raphael. His voice hissed with sarcasm. “Only, their numbers have shrunken by one. Seems like you couldn’t reach an agreement with your fourth pal and chose to weed him out?”

Mephodi clenched his fists, but Kia’s hoarse voice beat him to the answer. “It wasn’t we who killed him!”

The quadronor glared and waved the quickgun in her direction. Instinctively, she reached for her empty holster. Aik frowned and slipped his sunglasses on.

“Did I not instruct you earlier how to address me, you piece of tin?” Raphael passed the quickgun to the paladin on his left, drew the long sword from the scabbard on his back, and pressed its tip against the base of Kia’s visor. The orange crystal embedded in the hilt, shaped like a sun—the emblem of Helior and the city watch—flared against her visor. Kia didn’t flinch. Only her eyes rotated furtively toward Aik. He seemed calm too, looking at the blade through his sunglasses. Kia remembered that a boy once gave her quite a lecture on how paladins’ swords absorbed the bolts of energy quickguns through some sort of electromagnetic field.

The tip of the sword glided toward Mephodi.

“And you, scholar, don’t even dream of influencing me in that way. I saw you’ve studied well, but do you know what this is?” With his free hand, Raphael pointed at the circlet on his head.

Mephodi nodded. “Dwarven gadgets. A diadem for blocking external mental waves,” he said dully.

“You must think I’m a fool!” The quadronor bristled up at Mephodi, brandishing his sword. “You think I can’t see the truth, even if you hand it to me on a silver platter? No, my dear friends, you are mistaken!” He stopped swinging the sword, drove it into the earth, and leaned on it. “I figured out at once that an ordinary scholar couldn’t possibly be such an expert in magic unless he studies in the heart of the Magic Institute. I didn’t bother checking the branches at all. Of course, we had to go around the dorms, we wasted a little time— Must I remind you that you’re under arrest?”

Aik had peered around. He was probably looking for Fadgnal.

The gentle voice arrived before the reachut himself. “And would you mind telling us what are your reasons for detaining them, son of Leonard?” Fadgnal walked out of the shadow of the gate. His long white beard swayed in the morning breeze.

“Reachut Fadgnal!” Raphael gave a surprised but respectful bow. He pointed at the three arrestees with his sword. “They have committed a number of crimes! First: civil unrest and petty theft in Spak’s tavern. Second: prison break bringing discredit upon an officer—namely, me. Third: homicide! They murdered their companion and set fire to his apartment. Fourth ... hmm, they nearly murdered two paladins with a stone flowerpot. Fifth,” Raphael spread his entire hand out, “vehicle theft. Should I go on?”

“No need for that.” The old mage waved a hand. “I do not deny part of their guilt. Escaping prison and stealing the powermobile are grave offenses, yet—”

“The homicide and assault on paladins are even graver offenses, reachut!” Raphael protested.

“But not committed by them,” Fadgnal said. He looked around and went on more softly, “The murderers were Dark Elves.”

Raphael barely managed to contain his laughter. His two mates rapped nervously with their heavy boots. “That is not possible, reachut,” he said respectfully. “The City Watch would not allow Dark Elves to wander around.”

“If they’re so stupid as to wander in their natural skin,” Mephodi spoke at last. “These elves had modified themselves to such an extent that—”

“They had nasty eyes!” Aik propped his sunglasses with a forefinger.

“I supposed you’d manage to catch them,” Mephodi finished. “I’d nailed them to the wall with a complicated spell, but obviously they found a way to extricate themselves.”

Raphael grunted and grew thoughtful. For the first time, a shadow of doubt flitted across his face. “And I’m supposed to believe you?” he said theatrically. “It sounds very much like you’re messing with me.”

“Raphael!” Fadgnal’s voice was threatening, and his eyes blazed with fire. “Tell me, lad, would I lie to the son of my dearest friend?”

“Forgive me, reachut,” the quadronor said. “I would never doubt you, but them ... how can I trust them?”

“They speak the truth,” Fadgnal said firmly, sliding his gaze over Mephodi, Kia and Aik. Then he asked them to give a detailed account of their attackers.

“All right ... they’d be hard pressed to make up anything like that, these thieves,” Raphael muttered to his team. “At least the reachut would’ve exposed their lies.”

“Confirmative, quadronor!”

“Move on!” Raphael motioned at the patrol cruiser. “You must call in reinforcements right away. Give them a full description of the suspects.”

Reluctantly, the paladins got into the car.

“Well, now I’m being suspected of collusion and corruption. There’s a first!” The quadronor scowled.

Fadgnal watched the cruiser leave and turned to him. “Perhaps they will succeed,” he said, without much conviction.

“The City Watch always succeeds, reachut,” Raphael said in a hurt voice.

“Please do not blame an old man for his skepticism,” smiled Fadgnal. He looked around at all four of them. “Now come with me to the garden. I have an idea that, one would hope, will bring forth something good.”