Secret of the Sunstones, Part 1: The Wanton Kingdom

Chapter XXII : Flight & Seizure

Premorn of Primoris, Second Day of Autumnmoon

By the time Rosa fled the Archives, the entire Royal Guard was on her trail. She depleted heavy amounts of manna sneaking past blockades, finally reaching the streets of Niedam. She felt weary and out of breath. Had the palace been earlier in dispatching its scholars, she would have never made it. Her first instinct was to head north to intercept Bram’s trail, but there was something she had to do, first. She couldn’t leave without warning Jean.

Her window of opportunity was short. She had perhaps less than an hour before search parties spilled into the nearby townships, closing off her escape. She kept close to the shadows and avoided open spaces, careful not to leave behind any witnesses. Fortunately, the early hours had few others except drunkards and houseless transients.

As she neared Jean’s abode, she thought about Cedric and hoped for his safety. She never expected to change his mind, much less that he would risk everything for her. She prayed that his position as Grand Craftsman was strong enough to protect him.

When she reached her old professor’s residence, she glanced once more over her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t followed. She used the back door, closest to Jean’s sleeping quarters. After three successive knocks and several moments of eerie silence, she tried again. Still no answer. She dared to use a spell, but she had to be careful. Scholars had the ability to sense manna. Any sufficiently powerful magic would alert her pursuers. She directed her meager spell at the keyhole, imagining a small twist, a spark, and a flash of light … and the door opened.

She kept her voice low. “Master Jean, are you home?”

As soon as she crossed the threshold, she felt the spectral chill of an AMF. For a brief moment, she feared that Angkor’s scholars had found her, and dear old Jean had already succumbed! She struggled in vain, only to watch the sconces along the walls flicker with small flames.

A voice called out. “Rosa, it’s you! Thank the heavens!”

She let out a pent up breath, relieved to see Jean awake and unharmed. He released the AMF, and she felt the buzz, tingle, and warmth of her magic return. She hugged him. “Master Jean, forgive me. I should not have entered without your permission, but this is an emergency!”

The old tutor raised his hands calmly. “It’s all right, my dear. I too expected the enemy to have already reached us. But I’m grateful that you made it here, first.”

Rosa couldn’t help but gawk. “But, Professor, how did you know?”

Jean sat in a nearby rocker and motioned for her to join. She sat in a wicker chair, which had a blue pillow with stars on the seat. In between her and Jean was a small wooden table, and atop the table was a stack of old papers. Jean sat close, slowly drumming his fingertips.

“You didn’t think the Archives was without a mechanism for guildmembers like myself to monitor, did you?”

He asked the question so calmly. Her cheeks flushed. Of course, as Head Librarian, he could have easily watched over her progress.

“I admit, I’m quite pleased with how thorough you were. You even found the old journals. Sadly, your discovery might have cost you dearly. And I’m afraid I can’t undo what’s already been done.”

Rosa shrank back, finding it hard to tell if Jean was proud or disappointed. “Professor, you knew? But, how? They were incomplete. They—”

“Were missing some pages,” he finished.

Her eyes went straight to Jean’s fingertips, which continued their mechanical drumming. They widened as soon as she realized what was directly underneath them. “How did you get those?”

His face was wearier than usual. “I used my Guild privileges to remove them, of course. I suppose you’d like to read what is written?”

Rosa could think of nothing else. “Yes, of course! But … first I want to know what’s going on. How long have you known?”

Jean let out a deep breath. “I’ll tell you. But we must be brief, since there’s such little time. The king’s scholars will be here in minutes, and there’s much I must explain before you go.”

“Before I go?” Rosa couldn’t bear to leave a friend behind twice in one night. Especially with the guilt she already felt for Cedric. “Master Jean, I refuse to leave without you.”

Her old tutor stopped his rocking and learned forward. “Rosa, I forbid you from debating me on this. At least, not this time. Right now, there is knowledge that I must pass on, and while the burden it places on you is immense, there’s no one else I trust. I can only blame myself for that, I suppose.”

Jean’s regret was palpable. Rosa had never seen him so despondent. “I’m sure you did what you thought was right.”

The old man shook his head. “I was a fool. I thought I could keep the knowledge hidden deep within the Archives. I was afraid, you see. I thought if I came forward and exposed what Vance had written, others would be tempted to repeat his experiments. I couldn’t bear to let that knowledge escape. Better for it to die along with Vance himself.”

Rosa was dumbfounded. Jean must have known about the journals for a long time. But to a scholar, such a discovery was a priceless treasure. To hide it out of fear would suggest something truly apocalyptic. She wondered what kind of experiments the man could have performed.

“Professor, what did Vance do?”

He lowered his head in disgust. “You’ll find out soon enough, my dear. As for my tragic error, it seems the worst kind of villain stumbled upon the volumes that I thought I had locked away. A man so perverse and ambitious that he brought his newfound information directly to our king.”

Rosa knew exactly who he meant. “Virgil Garvey.”

“Precisely,” Jean acknowledged. “At first, I doubted that Richard had the appetite to gather these artifacts. With just Virgil’s word to go on, any promise of power could very well have fallen on deaf ears. And without the strength and commitment of our military, I doubted Virgil would ever succeed in procuring a sunstone.”

He leaned back and shook his head. “Of course, I was wrong once again. I underestimated Richard’s avarice, as well as Virgil’s ingenuity. It seems our king sent one of his own Gnostics to Minoa to seize their sunstone by force. On a holiday, no less, when security was unusually light. Virgil strategized a perfect heist, with a man who, I believe, is none other than your lover, Abraham Morrison.”

Rosa felt a surge of vindication. Jean’s account matched what she heard from Bram, and it fit her intuition perfectly. “Now that Richard has one sunstone, he’ll surely go to war with Koba and Kitezh to obtain theirs!”

“Right again,” Jean agreed. “It made sense to target Minoa, first. After all, there’s not much political downside to invading an impoverished village on the other side of the Great Ocean. But, now that he’s had a taste of the sunstone’s power, I fear nothing will stop him from pursuing the others.”

Rosa paused. “There’s one thing I don’t understand. If Virgil found Vance’s journals, how did you end up with the pages?”

Her professor gave her a toothy grin. “I recovered them from the Archives, you see. Mister Garvey was first to tear them from the bindings, but I presume he was unhappy to discover that he couldn’t leave the Archives without the Guild knowing. Instead, he transcribed a copy and left the originals. Later, I took the pages for myself. Using my Guild privileges, I removed them without alerting the other librarians.”

Rosa was crushed. This meant that Jean had the pages the whole time. He could have saved her so much trouble, but instead he left her to toil all day on a meaningless search, which put Cedric in danger and wasted hours that she could have spent reaching Bram.

She couldn’t even face him. She turned away, trying to hide her tears. “Why … why didn’t you tell me all this from the beginning? I thought you believed in me?”

Jean shook his head. “No, Rosa, you misunderstand! You are more special and deeply gifted than you will ever know. You have the potential to become one of the greatest sorceresses of all time ….” He trailed off for a moment, seemingly overcome with emotion. “But this isn’t about courage or talent. It’s a task in which your life—nay, your soul—will be at constant risk. If I am guilty, it’s that I’ve cared too much. I never wanted you to have to carry this burden.”

Rosa was at a loss. “I don’t understand!”

Jean grasped the pages and held them before her. “Then read these, so that you shall understand.”

Rosa grasped them tenderly and quickly read through Vance’s entries. As she did, her heart raced, her hands trembled, and her eyes glazed over.

Jean surely noticed her dread. “Now do you see why I came to fear this research?”

Rosa tried to work her voice, but she was shaken to the core. “Is there any doubt, Professor? Any chance that these entries are delusional, or … of a sick mind?”

“None,” he stated decisively.

Rosa squeezed out a slow breath, too overwhelmed to speak.

“Quickly, now!” Jean roused her from her shock-filled daze. “Now that you know the truth, you must flee.”

She steeled her nerves and stood up. “Yes, professor! You can count on me.”

Before she knew it, tears streamed from her eyes. She couldn’t help it. She was about to leave her cherished professor to face the king’s judgment, just as she had done with Cedric. The burden had already begun, and it was terrible.

“I know you can do this,” Jean told her. “Be brave, and we’ll see each other again. I swear it!”

Rosa embraced her professor. She was angry, but she knew that Jean wasn’t fit to travel through mountain passes or grueling desert climates. He couldn’t come with her, even if he wished it.

“Hurry, now! The scholars will be here any moment!”

“Yes, Professor,” she promised. But as soon as she uttered the words, the room darkened, and a presence loomed. Rosa’s eagerness was replaced with fear.

A voice spoke from the far side of the room. “How touching. I’m sorry to say that Angkor’s scholars won’t be visiting today. I’ve called off the search, now that I’ve found you myself.”

Jean rose from his chair like a man thirty years younger. “Virgil! You dare set foot in my home?” The old sorcerer raised his arms to recast his AMF, but Virgil brushed it aside like a gnat.

A magical backlash hit Jean like a wave, nearly knocking him off his feet. But, in a surprisingly agile move, he rolled to the side and grabbed an object from the table. Rosa recognized it as a totem in the shape of small figurine. It emanated intense magical energy. Grasping it tightly, Jean rose to his feet and cast a ray of pure white light. Sanctus Lux, perhaps the most powerful spell of sorcery ever known.

The chancellor raised his own hand and uttered an incantation, sending the bolt upward through the ceiling, incinerating everything in its path. An explosion of broken wood and shattered glass sprayed debris across the room.

Rosa shielded her face, but it didn’t stop splinters and shards from flying into her forearms. Fortunately, the ray missed the main structural beams. Aside from a gaping hole in the roof, the building remained intact. Once the dust settled, she looked to the far end of the room where Virgil stood, completely unharmed.

“So,” he noted with a devilish smile, “it seems you have a magical aid of your own. But it will take more than that to stop this!”

The chancellor reached inside his cloak and grabbed onto something. With an outstretched forefinger, he cast a spell using magic forbidden to all others on the planet.

Rosa’s body froze. “Professor,” she mumbled with effort. “I can’t … move.”

Jean also seemed to struggle. “What …? Interdicta … but how?”

“You expect me to answer?” Virgil retorted. “I’ll be taking the girl, now.”

“You … underestimate me … Mister Garvey!”

Jean flexed his powers through sheer strength of will. His bony fingers extended, and his voice uttered ancient words. Despite Virgil’s inexplicable powers, Jean cast a force that blew Rosa straight through the roof. She shot upwards, traveling at great speed. Soon enough, Virgil’s hold on her waned. Reacting quickly, she cast a spell to slow her movement before crashing to the ground.

It softened the blow considerably, but the impact still left her legs sore and her knees skinned. It took some effort to get back on her feet. Her poor, soiled dress was covered with dust and broken glass. Even so, she didn’t want Jean’s sacrifice to be in vain. She bolted down the street, kicking off her heels, and ran as fast as she could.

She uttered words of magic, hoping to accelerate her escape, but she was shocked to find the return of the AMF. She screamed, terror running through every vein in her body. Then … an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion. She forced herself to move, but each step was agonizing. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed. In seconds, she fell into a deep, magical sleep.