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  The war ship rose back up out of the mists, which was a relief to the small group of men, hand-picked by Grentz. They had been afraid to drop below the cloud bank and into the blighted lands, but Rafe had assured them that it was safe. Then they had been amazed at what they saw. The amber color of the mists, the bright light, the green fields of the prairie far below. There were even a few small herds of animals visible, although they were so far away that they were unidentifiable.

  The men were still relieved when they rose back up through the mists and saw the towering walls of Avondale again. They would follow Grentz into any fight, but most had never expected to ever leave Avondale, and Rafe knew that none had any desire to venture down into the blighted lands. Still, they had done everything Rafe had asked of them, and now he was anxious to get down and see Olyva again. But first, they had to sail the war ship back to the watchtower. The other war ship, now unmanned, still hovered there, which only made maneuvering the vessel into position more difficult.

  Grentz had taken command of the ship, standing on the command deck, shouting orders at his men. There was laughter and cheers as the ship finally glided over the tall watchtower. One of the men tossed the rope ladder down to a group of soldiers standing watch. They caught the ladder and secured it to the tower. Rafe didn’t wait while the other men tossed down additional lines to tie the ship in place. They would also need to secure the war ship to its twin so that the wind wouldn’t blow the ships around and make them collide with one another.

  Rafe felt a tremor of fear as he climbed down the rope ladder. He focused on the ladder, not the wind or the city far below. Once his feet were on the solid stone of the watchtower, he sprinted away, running down the steps of the tower and out across the wall’s wide parapet until he reached the palace. He made his way up to the roof of the palace, where a group of servants were beginning to tie down the thick ropes lowered from the Hamill Keep sky ship. It was a huge vessel, long and boxy, but well crewed. For a moment Rafe thought that a huge, fat dragon was settling over the city.

  The servants turned large ratchets that coiled the ship’s ropes around the thick stone pillars that secured the ship to the palace, slowly lowering the huge vessel until the stairs could reach from the lowest deck of the ship down to the rooftop.

  Rafe saw a few of the servants casting curious glances at him, but he ignored them. He had been afraid that something might happen to Olyva while he, Tiberius, and Lexi made their way into the city. He wasn’t sure if he had been more afraid of finding the vessel smashed to pieces by some huge creature from the blighted lands or simply gone when he went to find them. Now, as the stairs began to slowly lower toward the roof, Rafe felt a huge sense of relief.

  Olyva was the first person down the wooden steps and she fell into his arms. He kissed her, then led her quickly back into the palace, away from the eyes of the many servants working on the rooftop. They passed the earl’s chief steward, who was leading a delegation of servants to meet Olyva’s family.

  “I missed you,” he whispered as he pulled Olyva into a small doorway.

  “I missed you,” Olyva repeated. “What has happened?”

  “Not much,” Rafe said. “Tiberius healed his father, although I haven’t seen the earl come out of his rooms. My father and I captured both of the king’s war ships. So, when we leave, we’ll have a fast ship to take us wherever go next.”

  “That sounds good, although I’m glad to have my feet on solid ground again,” Olyva said.

  They watched as Countess Mauryn and Olyva’s sisters were led inside. It was no use trying to hide that Rafe and Olyva had returned to Avondale. The rumors were already flying, and Rafe could do nothing to dispel them. Still, he felt relieved that Olyva’s family was now safe. Whatever happened next, he wouldn’t have to worry about them anymore.

  “So what happens now?” Olyva asked.

  “Let’s see if we can find Tiberius.”

  “He wasn’t with you?”

  “No, he went to rest after healing his father.”

  Rafe led the way back down to the earl’s personal quarters. Olyva’s family would be given well appointed rooms on the floor below. The earl’s residence had many apartments; some were entire suites with several rooms combined into one single space, while others, like Tiberius’ quarters, were simply a single room.

  Rafe knocked gently on Tiberius’ door, then opened it. Robere was asleep on the bed, still wrapped in the cloak that Tiberius had stolen from Leonosis’ quarters.

  “Who’s that?” Olyva asked.

  “It looks like Ti’s old man servant. I think his name was Robere.”

  “Why is he sleeping here? He’s a servant, right? He shouldn’t be in the earl’s quarters.”

  “No, but I’m sure there’s a reason.”

  Rafe went over and shook the elderly servant lightly. Robere jerked away, bringing his hands up to protect his face.

  “It’s okay,” Rafe said. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

  “Oh, Master Rafe. I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

  “We’re looking for Tiberius. Have you seen him?” Rafe asked.

  “Yes, he rescued me,” Robere said. “He saved me.”

  “That sounds like Ti. Where is he now?”

  “He and a young lady were going to see someone in the city. I can’t remember the name, though. It seemed important.”

  “I’m sure it was,” Rafe said. “If he comes back, tell him I’m waiting for him in my father’s quarters. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, Master Rafe. I’d be happy to.”

  “Rest now. We’ll let ourselves out.”

  They left the room and closed the door. Olyva looked at Rafe.

  “I guess we have a little time to ourselves,” he said with a grin. “Unless you want to check on your family.”

  “No, I’m sure they’re fine,” Olyva said. “But I wouldn’t mind a hot bath and some clean clothes.”

  “I can arrange that,” Rafe said.

  There were bathing houses throughout the city, but also a very nice private bathing house for the people fortunate enough to be quartered in the palace itself. Rafe led Olyva down to a room full of steam and muted voices. There were large public bathing areas for the men, but also smaller rooms with tubs for the ladies of Avondale’s court. Rafe got Olyva towels and helped the servants fill her tub with hot water. Then he stripped down and bathed quickly in one of the public baths. There were a few city officials relaxing in the hot water, but they were in deep conversation and paid Rafe no heed.

  As soon as he was finished, he toweled off, got dressed again, and then went to find Olyva a clean dress. His first stop was to Olyva’s old quarters. She had a small suite, with a comfortable sitting room and a spacious bed chamber. The room was unlocked, the fireplace swept clean. Rafe looked in the wardrobe, but it was empty. He hurried back out and found one of the palace servants. She was a young girl, probably only fourteen or fifteen years old.

  “Do you know what became of Lady Olyva’s clothes?” he asked.

  “She was banished,” the girl said shyly. “Her clothes were taken back to Hamill Keep by her maid. At least most of them.”

  “What about those that were left?”

  “I’m not certain. I heard they were going to be given to the palace maids, but I’ve not seen them.”

  “Thank you,” Rafe said to the girl, who hurried away.

  Rafe decided his best bet was to ask someone down in the servants’ quarters. The palace workers had rooms under the kitchen. They were small rooms, with plain furniture, but there was a large sitting room that the servants all shared. It had a large fireplace and several well appointed sitting areas. Rafe found a bundle of old clothes.

  “Are these the clothes from Lady Olyva’s room?” he asked a servant sitting nearby.

  She was an elderly woman and she was squinting to see the spindle she was working.

  “It is, and some of the earl’s daughters old dresses,” th
e woman said.

  Rafe dug through the bundles of clothes until he saw something he thought he recognized. There were four dresses in the bundle, and he hoped it was the right clothes.

  “Thank you,” Rafe said as he hurried back out with the dresses.

  “Any time,” the old woman said.

  When he got back to the bath house, he had a serving girl take the clothes into Olyva’s private room, and then he waited. After a short while, Olyva appeared. Her hair was wet, and she was wearing a plain, cream-colored dress that hung down to the floor and covered her feet.

  “You look beautiful,” he said.

  A group of serving girls giggled from behind a pillar where they were watching. Olyva smiled, and Rafe extended his hand to her.

  “Why don’t we find something to eat?” he suggested.

  “Okay,” Olyva said.

  Rafe knew that Olyva didn’t need food the way he did. Since her transformation she only nibbled at food occasionally, and then usually just to make him feel better. But Rafe was hungry. He led the way to the feasting hall, where food was being served. They had just gone in and sat down at the end of a long table when a servant came rushing in.

  “Lord Brutas is returning,” the servant cried. “His sky ship approaches!”

  The servants jumped to their feet and went hurrying out of the feasting hall. Many of the city officials did the same. Rafe felt a stab of fear and looked at Olyva, who seemed just as worried.

  “What do we do now?” she asked.

  “We make ourselves scarce,” he said. “And hope Tiberius gets back soon.”

  Chapter 19

  Tiberius

  Ti followed the two older men through the dark streets. It was the first time Avondale felt truly foreign to him. The lights were few and far between, the narrow streets shrouded in gloom. There was a sense of anticipation in the air, but also of danger. Tiberius wanted to know more about magic, and he was willing to risk almost anything to know more about his craft, but he was acutely aware that he could be walking into a trap.

  Magic wasn’t just illegal in Avondale, it was reviled. If people knew he was a wizard, they might riot, just like the people of Hamill Keep did. For all Tiberius knew, the two old men were leading him to mob who were waiting to kill him. Still, the risk was just to himself. Lexi had stayed behind at the old man’s home. If something did happen to Tiberius, she could still escape. She knew the city better than any of them, and now she knew what to expect outside of the city.

  Finally they came to a door with a strange marking. Tiberius could just barely make out the symbol in the darkness and thought it looked like a keyhole. There was nothing special about the building itself—it looked exactly like the dozens of other doors they had passed. Inside they found two candles lit and waiting.

  “The others must all be here,” Pytor said.

  “You go. I’ll bring our guest,” Ennis suggested.

  The candles were long, beeswax tapers. Tiberius could see the hot wax running down the sides. The two men picked up what Tiberius thought would be candle holders, but instead the small metal plates were positioned above the flame and held in place with thin wires. The plates reflected the light down so that their faces were concealed.

  “Why so much secrecy?” Tiberius asked.

  “The Arcanius Brotherhood must be protected,” Ennis said. “We each know one other member, some know two, but no one knows all of us. If we are ever discovered, at least some would survive to keep the truth alive.”

  “And you’re going to tell me this truth?” Tiberius asked.

  “All your questions will be answered soon,” Ennis said as he stepped to the dark doorway that led into another room. “Come with me.”

  Tiberius followed the old man. The candlelight was reflected down toward the floor, and Ennis held it low, so that only their immediate steps could be seen. The room beyond was dark, but Tiberius couldn’t tell the size or what was in the room. And soon they were squeezing into what appeared to be a crack in the rock wall at the rear of the building. They shuffled through the crack, which angled back and forth, before finally opening up into a larger cavern. Tiberius could see the legs and feet of over a dozen men, but their faces were all hidden in the darkness.

  Once Ennis took his place in the circle, Tiberius felt a sudden prickle of fear. He realized that whatever this secret group was, it was well conceived and taken quite seriously by the members.

  “We have a guest,” Ennis said. “Tiberius, son of Ageus, has come seeking answers.”

  “Is he worthy?” asked one of the anonymous members.

  “He has proven himself to me,” Ennis said.

  “And me,” came a voice from across the cavern that Tiberius recognized as Pytor.

  “Then we shall begin,” said another unseen voice.

  Three stones, common stones, yet not ordinary stones, the voices began to chant in unison. Each possessing a unique power. From the Four Orders came the Emerystone, a tool to help all mankind. From the Dark Orders came the Portentstone, a gem to guide the masterful. And from the Nether Realm came the Balestone, the key to enduring vengeance. Three stones, three points of the triangle, three treasures with the power to seal or to lay bare the entire world.

  There was a short pause, then one of the shadowy figures cleared his throat. Once he began speaking, Tiberius could tell the man was elderly. His voice quavered as he spoke, but there was a confidence in the story being told.

  “For eons the Four Orders of magic guided the mystical explorations of wizards. Knowledge was their passion, understanding was what they sought above all else. Their methods were meticulous, their aim was to help all mankind. No kingdom or ruler controlled the orders. Magic was never used to conquer armies.”

  The voice paused, and from across the circle, another voice picked up the story.

  “Among the Four Orders, only the most advanced reached Nativus Magicus, the magic of the elements, the vaunted Fourth Order. They sought understanding of the very nature of the universe and used their power to gain knowledge. Of all the wizards who achieved the Fourth Order, only a few mastered it. The wizard Emerys was one such master. He sought a way to preserve his power and so, after years of practice, he sealed his knowledge in the Emerystone.”

  “The stone was used,” another voice began to speak, “to guide other wizards as they used the advanced magic of the Fourth Order. It held the immense power of the magical realm in check, so that the most advanced spells could be used productively. For an age mankind flourished. Sickness became a thing of the past, poverty was eradicated, and everyone throughout the vast kingdom of Valana prospered. But in the midst of this splendor, a new order arose. They called themselves the Dark Order, the secret wielders of power in the kingdom. They were not wizards, for not all who practice magic are wizards, but they sought to use magic to further their ambitions.”

  There was a slight pause before another voice took up the story.

  “The Dark Orders sought only what could elevate them in the hearts and minds of men. They did not practice the caution or discipline of the Four Orders but instead used magic only for themselves. In time, their greed and vanity drove a secret group within that Dark Order to steal the Emerystone. They used the magic of the Emerystone to seal up the essence of the kingdom’s most proficient seers, creating their own stone of power. The Portentstone could reveal the future, and the Dark Order used its power to defeat their enemies and rise to power in Valana.

  “The loss of the Emerystone left a void in the Four Orders,” continued another speaker. “And a rift tore through the once dedicated and powerful assembly of wizards. Some lost faith in their traditions while others rebelled against their strict hierarchy of magical power. If knowledge was the key to magical power, the disenchanted argued, why were the masters of the Four Orders so slow to share what they knew? So they broke free, following the example of the Dark Orders, and began searching for magical power on their own. Some went mad, and others used the
ir power to bend the innocent to their will. The Four Orders were forced to spend time searching for these renegade sorcerers, and many powerful wizards dedicated themselves to the Second Order, whose central purpose became to protect the innocent.

  “Then came the age of decline. The splendor of the former age was lost, as the rogue wizards began to summon beings from the Nether Realm to enhance their power. There were battles between wizards that destroyed vast cities. The sacred and the archaic were no longer safe. Knowledge from times past was lost, and the Four Orders began to grow weak. A group of wizards began a quest to reclaim the Emerystone and were successful. They sought to use the stone’s power to defeat the renegade wizards, but the stone was once again lost. A rogue wizard used the Emerystone to open a portal to the Nether Realm, where he then sealed the power of a great demon into the third stone of power, the Balestone.

  “The Balestone gave the bearer unrivaled power, but it also drove them mad. And in time, it too was lost. But the war between the wizards raged on, and for a time the discipline of the Four Orders led them to the brink of victory. In a last desperate act of defiance, the rogue wizards use the destruction spell all across the kingdom in one combined, desperate act. Only the power they sought to use was too strong for them, and they, like all around them, were consumed by the power of the spell. The very land was torn asunder, and many fled to the high places. In one devastating blow, the Four Orders were defeated, the Dark Orders were lost, and the renegade wizards were consumed by their own lust for magical power. The kingdom of Valana was ravaged and very nearly destroyed.”

  The group grew silent. Tiberius knew that the great cataclysm had resulted from a war between wizards. And he had read enough from his fragments of The Essence of Magic to know that using spells when you didn’t understand them could easily lead to horrible consequences. The magic of the Fourth Order was not only incredibly powerful, it was also incredibly difficult to control. He understood more about magic and about the Balestone, but he had so many questions.