Storm Phase – 12
In this epic fantasy, a young wizard with a mysterious destiny, a cat-girl ninja, and a diary that turns into a bat-like creature journey through worlds of monsters and mayhem.
On tired, shaking legs, Turesobei trudged up the steps of the High Wizard’s Tower as fast as he could manage. He was over an hour late for his lesson, despite having skipped dinner. A sliding door led into the top floor's single room. The scene painted on the rice paper panels depicted a goshawk, the symbol of the Chonda Clan. After drawing a few breaths to compose himself, he stepped inside and bowed twice.
Kahenan sat cross-legged on a cushion in the room's center. His eyes were closed. His face was serene. Turesobei sat on the empty cushion three paces across from him and waited to be acknowledged. Speaking first would not go well for him.
A warm summer breeze drifted through the open windows, carrying the scents of sleeping honeysuckle blooms and ripening plums. The ferns growing in the giant pots along the room’s edge rustled, and the bamboo chimes hanging in the windows thunked and clattered. In the nearby lake, hundreds of frogs added their voices to the night’s chorus of crickets and nightingales.
Minute after minute passed, and still, the old man said nothing. Not a single muscle on his face so much as twitched. Clearly, Kahenan wanted him to be patient and reflective. He was probably supposed to think about the mistakes he had made today.
The only error that concerned him was having made a fool of himself in front of Awasa. Yet again. And that, surprisingly, wasn’t his biggest concern. Out of every three thoughts that raced through his mind, one was about embarrassing himself in front of Awasa and the other two were about the creature. He was worried about Lu Bei. He needed to get back to the book and make sure it was safe. He needed to learn more about the creature and where it came from.
And why should he care about failing Kahenan or Master Kilono, anyway? Why did he always have to rush about doing everyone else's bidding? No one ever let him arrange his schedule or do what he wanted for more than a few minutes each day. Even during festivals, he had to spend half his time taking part in boring rituals.
If they would just give him some freedom, then he could be a better student, a better grandson. Maybe then he wouldn’t mind being forced into the life of the clan’s next high wizard.
After what seemed at least an hour, he grew tired of this game. Sure, he could have meditated like he was supposed to, but he was exhausted and distracted, his thoughts bouncing between Awasa and Lu Bei. Who was she taking to the festival? And what was he going to do about the creature? Was Lu Bei still in his book form, or was he rotaming free? Did she actually like this other boy or was she trying to make him jealous?
He struggled with his anger, holding it in check as long as he could. Which turned out to be only a few more minutes. He had to get the book from the library, and he desperately needed food and rest.
“If you're not going to teach me,” he growled as he stood up, “then I'm going home!”
Kahenan's eyes opened, and anger blazed within them. His mouth tightened, and his cheeks flushed. Thoroughly stunned by having riled his normally unflappable grandfather, he immediately sat and bowed his head.
“Sometimes you are an impudent fool!” Kahenan shouted. “Just because I allow you to speak your mind at ease with me, does not mean you are free to be disrespectful.” He closed his eyes, and lines of strain creased his face. His chest heaved with labored breaths. “I would wonder what has gotten into you lately, Sobei, except that you are a teenage boy and angst and impertinence need no further explanation.”
“I am sorry, Grandfather,” he muttered, now ashamed by his outburst.
Kahenan shifted, muttered a curse about old joints, and released his anger in a long, exasperated sigh. He looked suddenly old and fatigued, though a spark of anger still simmered within his eyes, waiting to be stirred again.
“I have had a long day of difficult summonings and bindings. I am tired, and I thought that since you had had a stressful day as well, we could sit together and share some quiet meditation. I see that I was wrong. Apparently, you require no rest and centering. Apparently, your spirit feeds off insubordination and arrogance.”
“I am sorry, Grandfather,” he repeated.
“Your mother has spoiled you, your father is never here to discipline you, and I am old and too lenient. Nevertheless, I know you have been taught better. No one else would dare to behave in such a way. Your attitude is simply not tolerable. You have been given a rare blessing to express yourself and treat your elders almost as equals. But you are taking advantage of this privilege. I would have kicked any other student out of here by now. Permanently.”
Turesobei bowed and touched his head to the reed mats on the floor. “I am deeply sorry, Grandfather.”
“You say that so much these days that I am not sure you mean it anymore.” He waved a hand at him dismissively. “Go. Eat. Get some rest. Then return here to clean the entire workshop — at first light. Tomorrow I am going to work you until you know fatigue in every possible way.”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
He walked to the door and paused. Kahenan always had one more thing to say.
“I received word from your father. A hawk delivered the message this afternoon.”
With a giant smile spreading ear to ear, Turesobei spun around. “He’s alive!” His father was always in danger. “Will he get home in time for the festival?”
His excitement lightened Kahenan’s mood somewhat. “He is doing well and riding fast. He should arrive tomorrow evening. But do not rejoice too much. If you do not accomplish all the tasks I set for you tomorrow, you will have little time for seeing him.”
“I swear to do everything you ask. Without complaint.” And he meant it.
“Then see that you get some rest. I am going to have to be harsh with you tomorrow.”
Turesobei turned toward the door and hesitated as the sense of relief in seeing his father again washed through him.
He should tell Kahenan about Lu Bei…
“Sobei, what is on your mind?”
“I…” He turned toward Kahenan. “I…”
He quashed the notion. He couldn’t bring himself to share Lu Bei with anyone else. Not yet. The book was connected to him, and that was his mystery to solve.
“Sobei?” his grandfather repeated.
He remembered then that Kahenan had a key to the library, not that a wizard needed one. “I need to get into the library. I left my spell books there this afternoon.”
Kahenan scowled. “Spell books should not be treated so lightly. If they fell into the wrong hands…”
“I left them tucked out of sight on a high shelf. I was running late for arms practice, and I figured my books were safer there than on the practice field.”
“I suppose that’s reasonable.”
“So you will let me in?”
Kahenan shook his head. “I’m old, tired, and ready for bed. You can get your books on your way here in the morning.”
“But…”
“We both know you are too tired for studying tonight. It can wait.”
Biting his lip, Turesobei continued to stare at his grandfather.
“What is on your mind, Sobei?”
He had just remembered something that had occurred to him while he was slumped over on the practice field, gasping for air and wanting to vomit even though there wasn’t anything in him, all while Kilono was urging him to get up and continue his routine. “That dream about Chonda Lu…”
“Did you remember something else?” Kahenan asked.
“No, but I remembered that I’ve been having other strange dreams over the last few weeks.”
“What kind of dreams?”
“Strange ones. Not quite nightmares, but unsettling. I dream about people I’ve never met before, people that I know intimately, people that I miss terribly. Now that I’ve dreamed about Chonda Lu, I think maybe those were people that he knew and not people my mind invented.”
“Can you recall anything specific?”
“I vaguely remember some of their faces, but I don’t know who they were or why they were important to him.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it then,” Kahenan replied calmly, though Turesobei thought there might be a tremble of concern in his grandfather’s voice. “You are nearly an adult. It is natural to have dreams that echo a kavaru’s past wielders as you age. In your case, that means reliving a few of Chonda Lu’s memories. Do not fret over this. And by all means, if you remember anything specific, write it down.”
Turesobei lifted his amber kavaru by its chain and stared into it. “Tell me again, Grandfather, why you gave me Chonda Lu’s kavaru.”
If the records were accurate, no one had used the stone during the four centuries since Chonda Lu’s death, which seemed highly unusual given how scarce kavaru had become and how this was the most prestigious stone within their clan.
Normally, a wizard selected a kavaru when he began training, choosing the stone that resonated with him the best, if more than one stone was available, which wasn’t always the case. But Turesobei had been given his stone soon after he was born.
He had asked this question before, only to get a vague response, but now seemed a good time to ask it again. And maybe this time, given the dreams and the fact that Turesobei was a few years older than the last time he’d asked, maybe Kahenan would tell him more.
Kahenan walked to the north-facing window and looked out at the lake. “It is hard to know who will have what it takes to be a wizard until they are old enough to show talent and make the decisions that must be made to dedicate themselves to the work and to the life.” He turned and flashed a fleeting smile at Turesobei. “But Chonda Lu’s stone selected you. How could you be anything but a wizard?” Exhaling a deep breath, he turned back toward the lake. “It seemed right for you to always have the stone with you, for it to become part of you.”
“How did Chonda Lu’s kavaru choose me?”
“A prophecy said the stone would one day select its bearer. And the night before you were born, I saw you wielding it in a dream. And when I placed the kavaru upon your chest, less than an hour after you emerged from your mother’s womb, it glowed. And it continued to glow until sunset on the following day. So there could be no doubt that you were the one who should bear the stone. Why it selected you and no one else, I cannot say.”
“I still haven’t seen this prophecy.”
“And you will not until you succeed me in this role. It is for the eyes of the High Wizard only.”
“Even though it’s my stone.”
“Even though,” Kahenan said with finality.
Not one scrap of new information. Turesobei sighed. He didn’t like the idea that he had never been given a choice to become anything but a wizard, all because of a dream and a prophecy he had never read. But with Chonda Lu’s book appearing out of nowhere and the little creature confusing him for its master, it was hard to deny that he was the one who should have the stone.
“Grandfather, do you know if Chonda Lu had a fetch? Not a demon, but a small creature that served him. Perhaps one he made himself.”
“A construct? I have no idea.” Kahenan spun and focused his keen eyes on Turesobei. “Why do you ask?”
“Just … just a small scrap I remember from the dream.”
“Hmm. I do not recall reading of such a thing before. What did the creature look like?”
“It was small, maybe a foot tall, and it had amber skin and wings. It looked kind of a like a cross between a bat and a house cat.”
Kahenan’s face fell into a deep frown. “I… I have never heard of such a creature.” The old man’s eyes narrowed, and Turesobei shivered. “Away with you now. I am exhausted, and we have a lot of work to do tomorrow.”
***
Having first made sure no one was anywhere within sight, Turesobei sprinted toward the limestone wall. When he was only six paces away, he chanted the command phrase for the spell of prodigious leaping and jumped. On a good day, he could have cleared a ten-foot wall.
But he was too tired for that, and the wall was higher than he had thought. He slammed into its side with a hard thump, but before he fell, his fingertips caught hold of the top. Aching and probably sporting a few new bruises, he climbed up and then dropped into the garden of the locked but unguarded library.
He crept up to the back door and placed his hand against the lock. Forming the correct intent and the proper runic symbol in his mind, he whispered the spell of unlocking. After a decisive click, he slid the door open.
Intoning the spell of the flickering flame, he summoned a small, hovering sphere of fire. He set it to a strength no greater than a candle, not bright enough to draw attention and just enough to see where he was going. He could have cast the spell of darksight, but the only version he knew was of little use inside on a moonless night. In a normal response to his spells, a barely noticeable mote of light appeared deep within his kavaru.
He made his way to the shelf at the back of the library and was relieved that the head librarian hadn’t found his books. At a thought, the fire globe he’d conjured floated in closer. Setting the other books aside, he picked up the ancient diary. The book trembled as the runes on the cover began to glow in sync with his kavaru.
“Not now,” he whispered. “We’ve got to get home first.”
The runes faded. Lu Bei had heard him.
As Turesobei headed toward the back door, the book shivered, and the runes flared again.
“I said not now!” he hissed.
As the book launched out of his hands and spun around, hovering in the air, a withered hand grabbed Turesobei’s shoulder.
“You have some explaining to do,” said a tired voice he knew all too well.