Hot Obsidian
Шрифт:
Oasis’ adventures in Lumenik Hive made everyone laugh. Like any good storyteller, he knew which words to choose when he saw the audience. He could have easily told the boys very truthful horror stories from his past life if they were in the mood for that kind of entertainment. But for now, he just wanted to cheer everyone up. And he did. Even Kosta and Milian snapped out of their gloomy mood and looked genuinely interested.
When Oasis stepped out of the spotlight, it was their turn to shine. Two wide intersecting circles going through all the map prompted a question about Horas, the magical stabilizers, and there Kosta and Milian, the bookish boys, were the experts.
Excited, Milian even took a dried up diadem fruit out of his pocket and slashed it with his pen-knife to illustrate his story better.
“Imagine that this dry tail here is Hora Solaris and this bump on the side is Hora Lunaris and there is a stabilizing field around each of them. If you leave just one Hora in the world, its influence will cover all the planet…” Milian was explaining, his eyes full of lively interest.
“It’ll detonate,” said Kosta sceptically and rested his head on his hand, thoughtful. “I read that someone had tried that in the past. Things went boom.”
“I know! I was getting to it!” Milian waved the argument aside. “So – hypothetically! – if we leave just one Hora, its influence will cover the whole planet. But if we add another, the tension between them will create a nice belt of a border dividing the planet into two magically stable halves. Intersecting circles don't show that!” That said, he drew a perfectly straight border between the tail and the bump. A crunch followed; two sugary halves of the fruit fell to the floor.
“The canonic way to draw the border has its practical use,” Pai Prior, the only practising mage among the ten, joined the discussion. “The strength of a Hora grows weaker as we move away from it. On the opposite side of the planet, it must be so weak that it fails to stabilize magic at all. And there, between the Horas, their influences conflict with each other, creating anomalies. It’s always good to know where your spells may randomly start exploding.”
“Bravo, colleagues!” Orion snapped his fingers. “You are both right! Let us proceed!”
Scientific lingo mixed with ordinary clowning around did the trick, making everyone involved in the discussion laugh.
Juel and Irin didn’t join in the fun. They sat on the opposite side of the long table and talked about Faizul battle tactics. Orion wanted to comment on the topic by describing said tactics as “Smash them with da ax!!!” but restrained himself. It was neither the time nor the place to add fuel to the fire.
The library had a tall, arched ceiling made from a single dark crystal, black on the inside and transparent on the outside. A balcony going around the crystalline structure offered a great view on the hall below that looked like a deep, sunlit well to the observers. Thanks to the wonderful acoustics of the place, the observers could perfectly hear everything that happened in the library.
Not a single word escaped the ears of ten Kangassks and their father standing on the balcony. They heard Juel’s cruel joke and Jarmin’s crying; Milian’s emotional lecture and Pai’s arguments; all the anger, all the laughter, everything.
Everyone had learned something while watching their own and their siblings’ apprentices that day. Sainar learned even more for he was keeping track of his children’s reactions as well. He saw Abadar frown at Juel’s actions and Lar grin at Orion’s. He saw Eugenia clench her fists when her Jarmin started to cry.
“Father!” Eugenia turned to him when she could no longer keep silent. “You can’t be serious about sending him on a mission! Jarmin is only six! I beg you: wait for a few years or at least don’t send him with the others!”
“My daughter,” said Sainar in a soft but relentless tone and stroked her hair like a little child’s, “everyone is equal in the eyes of destiny. Often, it’s the smallest and the weakest one that gets chosen. Also, don’t you see: he has his own protectors now!”
That was when Jarmin was crying while hiding his face in Orion’s sleeve.
Chapter 2. The liar’s speech
Warriors on the Lifekeeper path are confident and level-headed. They know the difference between love and lust, learning and mindless parroting, truth and lie, loyalty and fanaticism. Warriors of the Order of Hot Obsidian build their lives upon the same foundation. The Order is no place for mindless fanatics!
Sainarnemershghan Saidonatgarlyn. Neophyte’s handbook.
Sainar made his speech right before dawn in a large, dimly lit hall. “They must concentrate on my voice. Yes, my voice, and not on my face…”
Preparing the speech took Sainar a long time. Never before had the man whose words were strong enough to make a worldholder angry had to prepare his speeches beforehand. Whether he spoke as Hansai Donal or in his own name, he always spoke from his heart. Sainar’s words had always been a pure fire: passionate, straightforward, honest, and enhanced with his ambasiath power. But now…
The simple test he had made yesterday changed everything. Watching his children react to the simple events down in the library; having his daughter – Kangassk Eugenia – openly confront him made Sainar reconsider everything.
He raised his children to hate the worldholders and their reign, he taught the Kangassks to trust the Order’s judgement. And faithful followers they all turned out to be, indeed! So what was troubling the great leader now? Just one little thing, so simple but immensely dangerous. The thing he had realized yesterday…
They love their apprentices.
What was wrong with it? The thing is, according to Gerdon’s plan, nine of the ten boys were to be sacrificed to the Hot Obsidian, there was no way around that. But what would happen now if Sainar had honestly told the Kangassks about that? How would they react? Oh, he already knew how!
Sainar may be their beloved father and their fearless leader but eight out of ten Kangassks would turn against him the moment they heard of the purpose their apprentices had been raised for. And whose fault is that? His own. Hadn’t he lectured them about honesty and truth, hadn’t he raised them all as Lifekeepers, hadn’t he been an example of everything he taught? Oh, their sense of justice was firm and true all right! And it would flare up as fast as dry grass does when it meets a fiery spark.