Dusk fell over the rain-washed city, and with its arrival my vision improved. Others see either poorly or not at all by night. For me, night brings clarity to my rainbow-hued world. A soft rain interfered with my aura vision, but not as badly as the sun, with its over-whelming warmth. Often I wonder if the myths of the necromantic creatures being of my kin come from so many of us being so gifted or cursed. This was the true test of my control. Pelori many hebdoma behind us now, still was more a large town in size, not a city.
Aiming my empty sockets over the city, I saw the truths of the place with my third eye. Like a wax painting left too close to a fire, the precipitation blurred the once clear auras into mingled shapes and colors, both pleasing and revolting. Much like the people, places, and events they come from. They changed as the weeping sky moved its own veils between me and the world. So like the sun's, yet softer across the intervening distance, its folds and ripples changing ever as the moments pass.
My inner gaze found a cold flame on that canvas of light, so bright that it shone clear even through the rain. Large and silver, at least as I remember silver being before losing my orbs. It crackled, even over the distance, to my inner ear, the one that sometimes hears what others never notice. That blaze represented the reason for our journey to this place. That is how I see the life-force of the Grey-Claw-of-the-Night-Sky, Umbradinor, my old friend who perhaps would protect me from the Centurions, or not.
The start of our friendship dated to our younger days, in the Upper Lands of the North. We had met by chance, I seeking bandits who had stolen children, he hunting alone for the first time since his hatching. In joining up to fight those criminals, a friendship formed. But that is another story.
Over the years, I usually spent my first night without the city, sitting in my tent observing the place and its ways, for such oft change in small ways, and I had no wish to be seen as a total stranger in this land of taboos and mysteries. We agreed to this method and place many a decade ago, with the resident seeking the visitor once our informants were contacted. Our most common guises those of merchants, pilgrims or traveling soothsayers. Its easy for one with a true gift to play the latter, so some of our group acted as barkers, calling out my presence and skills. Actually, it was just Ringelius, who was having entirely too much fun and exaggerating my skills greatly. I could not detect
Here in the realms of the Homani, we Numeni stood out like the roses in the weed patches. Only amid others of our kind could a Centurion hide, and even that would be difficult for them. Those who traveled outside our lands rarely were the bigots who would welcome their kind. Cethegor and Didius were sure we had at least two centurions of the Centuria Sinistra still with us. Despite the changes in personnel that Norbanus had made in Pelori. That calagaria was still stalking about, watching me as well. My blood and companions admitted they had no clues as to her leanings. Furius, though, was still agitated about the foul magical workings we had found made of his father's remains. Ringelius was busy keeping the boy on a short leash, as the saying goes, while drumming up some business.
As the leader of the Triarium, Sextus Didius Lorcius held the respect of all our kind, his name linked to integrity and honor, at least until the last few years. Using that reputation, and the bargaining powers of Norbanus, he had been able to talk a wealthy merchant off this spot today How much of that talk would be costing my own coin pouch, I was sure to soon find out. Norbanus has the anima of an accountant, he missed his true calling in life. He would have taken any campsite, not knowing the importance of this one to contacting Umbradinor. Yet, despite my own follies in Pelori, they had gotten me here alive. For that I could not fault them.
I was still not sure Umbradinor would help. The Decuria's arms were long and often hidden in places one did not anticipate. Our meetings here were well known to happen, even if they had been clandestine. For the moment, all I could do was hope the others were right. The part of me my goddesses use did not seem to agree.
Contact came quick and unexpectedly. No sooner than our encampment had been drawn and setup begun, than a voice I knew but shall not name spoke to us from nearby. “Be wary, travelers. It is said that that field is over run with lizards by night.” The message was one used only once before. Rather than wait for daylight, we would have our visitor soon.
One wave of storms passed and another approached. His aura did not reside in its normal spot, on the east side of the community, nor in his bolt hole to the north. No, he lodged in the center of the city, near the Sultan's palace. I could not determine if it was in the dungeons, or in the Emir's quarters, for both were close there. When the glow that marked my friend moved, which led to an understanding of the change.
Many more auras still, some of a similar nature, but less sharp, others like those of the Elemental Spirits. Children, obviously, as Soludrin had intimated back up on our rock seat. I had forgotten that. Despite the building headache from using my third eye, I stared at those flames. They were already distinct from their sire, in color at least. One tinged with the black of the grandsire, three others had brilliance of mage-born in azures, golds and reds. The last made of sickly yellows of early death. Whether Grey Claw knew this or not, I would need to speak with him to ascertain. I hoped he knew, for bearing bad news would weaken my position further. My gift of precognition was known to him, so perhaps he hoped to gain more knowledge of the child's destiny by speaking with me.
I pulled out the five carbuncle stones Soludrin had given me, as gifts for the children. Ringelius had spent a short time as we waited out the race looking over the stones. Searching my memory, his descriptions rose back to mind. All had the colors of the children's auras. A deep star sapphire, the wild flame ruby, two diamonds, one with inclusions of gold, the other pitch black and a topaz of rich amber gold. On Ringelius suggestion, I had kept them wrapped separately since the pass, to let their resonances remain individual.
Curtains of rain closed in again, blurring then hiding the auras of the children from me. Was that dance of the rain a sign? Good omen or bad? I was disturbed by the change from the normal of the past saeculus. The sense that something was out of sorts stayed with me. I could only wait until Umbradinor could arrive.
To ease my pain I asked for tea while concentrating on closing the sight I saw by down to shorter distances. The hand of my nepo set the cup and some other herbs to my hand as I tuned out the world around me., I thought long over what to say. Should I assume he knew not of the sickly child, or wait for him to breach it? The scales in my mind teetered on the fulcrum of conscience, leaving me worried and confused. During my waiting, Furius left, as now two entered. Smell alone spoke of the taint of wet metal and leather told me that two warriors had come in. One had to be Ringelius, but that left me wondering who held the leash of young relative outside.
At length, murmurs from without, and the opening of the flap of my tent raised. The boy spoke in a soft voice, one suited to my acute ears, which his time with me taught him the moderation of.
"Master, there is a Domorushtuun outside, dusky skinned, with gray hair and deep black eyes. He seems to be of middle years for such, but he feels both older and younger than such to me. He has the powerful build of a younger man of the Northern Foothills region, perhaps of the city states of Alogasna or Threndu." The rustle of the entry flap in his hands was loud to me, but those with sight are less attuned to sound then we who tread the path of darkness. I was impressed by his attention to details, making sure those waiting inside new the man to enter. That was the guidance or Didius, Cethegor or Norbanus in the ways of preparations.
I pitched my voice to carry out to the men with my friend "Yes, Furius, show in the man. I will read his fate, and cast the auguries for his children as he desires. But only he may enter, if others invade the sanctity of the tent the readings will be skewed. Those as bear steel or iron they must back off further." I caught that distinctly draconic snort that only a lizard, no matter his form, can make. Grey Claw still retained his sense of humor, I noted.
"Stand off, soldiers! You wear iron, which causes harm his kindred. Since those are the metals by which his power is blocked, his reading for my children will be imperfect . Ten steps is all I ask. Surely the Vizier will understand the need of my having a good augury?" His foot steps without were erratic, powerful but still unguided to any who would not know of his heritage.
The voice was still the rough and rumbling bass that marks him to my ears, It rang with his amusement over his escort's dutiful attitudes. Amusement was a good thing, as one in our party, sitting next to me would not make his trip here enjoyable. The rustling of steel garments tells me that he is obeyed. The interest of the Vizier is troubling for I have never had good relations with those who hold that office. Professional rivalries and the like, the constant bane of the mage, no matter the school or power. Needless to say, I had low opinions about the previous holders of that office, but more over reasons of competence than of style and silly racial prejudices.
The flap opened again, and Umbradinor entered the shelter. As the canvas dropped, my guest settled down across the brazier from me. I offered some tea, herbal of course, and he accepted. We drank for a few minutes in silence, before beginning. I could smell the incense from the burners outside, wafting along on the gentle breezes, as my nephew lit them. The cloves would irritate many, while the green-berry poison would overwhelm the lesser kindred who came too close for our purposes. I deemed from the departure from normal, the initiative must be mine.
"You have more problems, my friend, since my last trip south. At least five of them very new." My voice was low pitched, but the murmur of it would carry to without the tent, allowing the guards some knowledge of their charge's safety.
The snort again, this time strained. He knew, and needed my help as much as I needed his. "I would have sent for you moons ago, my friend, if I thought those fools would let you leave." Somehow, the lizard made his sip sound more like the lapping of a tongue. "How didst thou leaveth the chains of thy captors behind thee?"
"We overthrew the Decemviri.” It was a joke, but it got no laugh. “We tried, at least. I cannot say if we will succeed my friend. The Imperatrix is safe in the hills, or so Cethegor assures me." I took a sip of my tea. A gasp and sputter told me I had struck at an inopportune moment with that comment. Whether it was the concept of my folk in a civil war, or that Cethegor was here, I could not tell.
This pause was shorter. Tidings and rumor ran before me, obviously. "Surprising, that he would take up with thou, after thy last adventure amid the Northern Wastes." Those words stirred the memory of pain in my ribs again. Reminding me of the mistakes I had made over the years.
"Others as well. Norbanus, Didius." Still I sipped calmly, sensing easily the agitation within the one across from me.
The rattle of the copper tea kettle coming off the brazier rack told me he was thinking. Umbradinor was silent only when deep in thought. Water sloshing over the tea holder in his cup was loud, something he normally was silent in doing. My friend was not reassured by my companions. Several sips of tea later, he spoke at last. "Given thy past travels with Lorcius, and the troubles thou encountered, is this wise?"
"Wisdom? Trust me, the wise flee us now." Subtle hints, dancing around the subject of the aura behind me. This time it was a sniff not a snort, one that turned into a very reptilian hiss. The rustle of cloth marked his looking about to find the source of the scent.
The snort he gave told me Grey Claw had a differing opinion of Ringelius' return. “Varamus, Thou hath lost thy mind. That one be not thy ally.” His further slide to the formal speech and use of my family name in the archaic form was a sign of his own agitation.
Despite our long friendship, the bonds of blood are stronger. This stirred an old anger for me. “No, he is not my ally. He is off my kinfolk. I still honor those bonds, even if some of my blood would prefer he had never been born.”
"Listen to thyself, Varamus. Thou forgets that a seer is oft forbidden by those who rule his Fate to see his own end. Thou shalt charge blindly..." His voice trailed off, in regret. Regret of choice of words, regret he had not arrived until that long ago battle was for all purposes over.
I could not leave that lie to fester. "Yes, old friend. Blind men walk where others fear, for we cannot see the perils. But you forget one thing. I know the dangers I face. And I know who chases me. Trust me to try and stay free, and loose no more pieces of myself." My voice was strident, even to my ears. To ease his guards worries, I barked loudly as if bargaining a price. "One hundred dinar! No less can I accept lest the Parcae reject the offering!"
"Thief! But we should not argue for a reading. Very well." Grey Claw knows me far too well, as he spoke softer. "You hope to use his lack of a Fate to break the hold of your Decuria upon you."
Sometimes, one could wish that one's friends were less insightful. "I say I have already. All I wish for now, my friend, is to keep my freedom from those who poisoned me with ferric toxins to keep me weak and compliant to their will."
I let the words sit, and reached out to where the teapot should have been, only to find my cup being taken, and hand gently pushed back. "Let me, Varamus. I do not wish to bandage any more burns on you. Ever, my friend." Behind him, the tent flap lifted as Ringelius and Didius left us, to speak our minds freely.
We each held our cups, waiting for the anger to pass. Sometimes a friend will stir the fires of a passion too much, pushing limits of politeness to their breaking point. The saecula had taught us to use such times to cool those flames within. Surprisingly, Umbradinor spoke first.
"What thou canst perceive, others might catch glimpses of. Yes, thou will attempt to avoid trouble, that I can tell. But Ringelius, Varamus, be trouble incarnate. Casteth thy mind back to our youth."
I laughed, not out of contempt, but joy at some of those memories. "Indeed, he is trouble. Trouble the Decuria, knowing now that he lives, will be wary of. Trouble that walks with me, not into me. Trouble that slayed the Cato. And that blind spot seers have for him has a tendency to mask those around him. You remember the pranks of our shared youth?" This was a touchy subject, for those pranks had more oft gained us all trouble, yet I had to try.
"The Cato's death was his work?" Grey Claw was shocked.
"Yes, and perhaps you are right, lizard. But it could be I am as well. Know this, there is nothing I can foresee about my cousin. Nor can any others. He is fateless." I sighed, and waited. As we both thought on this, something from a corner of my mind came out and danced on the main stage of my brain to my tongue. "He is without a Fate, but that hammer he bears is not. It is destined to be held by a Tsar who starts a new dynasty amongst the Karleekie, Grey Claw."
Short silence, followed by the lizard's own thoughts. "Yes, indeed, but in his hands it becomes invisible to seers. Trust me on that, my sire has long tried to see that hammer, to know which of the stunted ones will slay his old foe with it." His chest rumbled loudly to me, but probably imperceptibly to others, as if he were using that draconic purr to think. Yes, a draconi do have a kind of purr, much like felines.
"Yet I have felt the effects of the Buran Malyot. Not just once, but several times of late. I foresaw the coming of it in a dream in Jugusium, just before he arrived. " I rarely will push back against the Grey Claw of Shadows, for while I am a seer, he is a student of prophecies, and has read many more than I in his own, and his father's, quests for knowledge of what is to come.
"Speaking of thy gift, Varamus, I must ask you to actually use your skills." He shifted uneasily. Draconi had their own seers, but if none would answer him a question, then turning to me meant desperation.
"I will do what I can, but your kind has defenses against precognitions in your blood." Telling this to a priest of the Draconi goddess of shadows was no revelation, not even a reminder. Just a reflexive speech I spoke to any seeking to know their future.
"Do thy best, Varamus. We knoweth the boundaries set forth by the gods." Fatal acceptance in one or a species known more for its arrogance is frightening, I discovered in those words.
"Speak the problem as thou perceive it, Umbradinor. Perhaps I shalt seeth the answer, if that might make thee feel better." He had me talking that way as well. Too much formality was overwhelming me.
The long silence had me wondering if he wished no part of a reading of fates and auras. Two cups of tea later, at last he had composed his thoughts and words for the moment. "Eight claws of winters back, I met a woman here. One skilled in magics, especially those of the Five Elements of All." I leaned back, realizing this was part letting a friend get caught up on his life not stalling in his request.
"Never did I realize that one could feeleth so for one not of mine species. Aisha is very gifted, strong, and of a heritage that can bear young by me. Laugh naught at me and mine folly, wingless child of the sky, for thy kind oft falls for humans as well." He paused to sip a fresh cup of tea. "It was 'til I realized she loved me as well that I found how matched we were. She is not just a mistress of the Elements, but part of them. Jann. Burning Stream clan."
The least of the genies, mixed blood among those how were born of the leftovers from the creation of the world. Jann were long-lived, powerful mages by any standard who were linked by their blood to the magics they craft. While hated in other lands, in Rahab they were the nobles of the land, each title earned and kept in clan hands by service to the sultan. Those of the Burning Stream were water and fire specialists, with a touch of the void in there with earth and air. A powerful and rich clan.
The clan of the current Vizier who advised the Sultan.
"When I found that out, we got married in the ways of her clan. Soon after she became pregnant, in the manner of her kind not mine. The first birth was difficult, but each became easier she said, as did the midwives. But the youngest boy, he is either exploding energy or lethargic." He broke off then. I let it rest for several sips.
"Is he sickly otherwise? I ask not to offer help, but to discern which child you mean, for I see two that you may have called me for." As I spoke, I set down my cup, leaving off filling it.
He choked, spraying his tea into the fire. It sizzled in tune with his laughter. He was obviously clueless as to his child’s problem. "Nay, only the youngest is a problem. The other children are fine. The babe is oft languid, then goes long periods as if containing boundless energy. Mine eldest is merely a scholarly child, as her mother..." His voice started out solid, but as he spoke unsure tremors entered it, for the seeds of doubt had been sown.
"A girl, the eldest and scholarly. Interesting, considering her father's fire for adventure." But a worry to me, something nagged the back of the mind.
"Look, damn thee. Look into her fires, and his. Seeketh an answer that shalt let mine mate and I keep mine heirs." Pain rode the air and roiled in his aura so much the waves pressed
"Come to my side of the fire, please. I will need to look again and your flames..."
"Since when can you see that far?" Disbelief tinged his voice.
"Apparently poisons are good for something. I had to fight so much to see, my ability once free of the toxins is greater than before." This was not a new pride or my old arrogance. It was the simple truth I was still trying to deal with myself.
"Truly?" Still the doubt ruled the Grey Claw of Shadow's voice. " 'Tis over a league from here to there."
Something of my body language must have shown him my concentration to raise up the power again, as much as I could in this place. Softly, I asked my guards to shift aside for my viewing. Umbradinor moved to the side, out of the way, but still not beside me. It would have to do.
I opened my third eye, turning my vision again to his children's auras searching for the things I had missed the first time. It took all my focus to see that far with my inner eye, as I looked deeper and saw the separate ages and powers. The smallest flame was the truly sickly one, the bookishness had hidden the ill from the parents, but it sat there, slowly killing the child, and it had gotten me confused. Worse, their age before was not apparent, the youngest was not ill, merely coping as poorly as the untutored do. I searched my for the words to ease my companion's sorrows to come, and found but a poor choice to use. I sensed the moments slipping and the growing anxiety across the table.
"Your eldest is the truly ill, it looks as if she has some ailment similar to bone-eater. She bears up yet, thinking it to be growing pains, as her sibs have now, but it is not, and in her heart she knows this. It has turned beyond just physical pain, gnawing at her psyche, devouring her self-esteem. Seek the priests of Varew for her, and soon, for her light still echoes in the future."
"And the youngster?" The pain in his voice hurt me, even second hand. He had so been sure, but to have his judgment prove wrong even the once was terrible to him. His pride, as that of all his kind, was immense. Now to give him hope for the other.
"He bears the blood of thy ancestors. In him, the blood of Tragrilom the black, your great-grandsire returns to the Realm. You will be busy keeping up with him." I kept my voice reassuring as I could.
"Is Japi beyond the healers? She is my mate's favorite, to lose her would sorely hurt the woman, perhaps beyond repair of her soul. You are sure I do not need healers of my kind? She shares my blood, so perhaps they would have better skills at the healing?" Only a parent's voice can carry all the hopes and fears, wound into a few brief seconds, and convey them to others so well.
I knew what he asked of me. What the Decuria had wrung from me by drugs and torture. It was something I had only toyed with at times early on. I am at best an untrained seer, one upon whom the gods had hung the mantle and powers after my own folly and failure to understand the limits of my donum. Can any deny a friend what they ask? The warnings and guidance of the gods, those I bear, as best I can. But to seek the future willingly, read the weavings in the tapestry of lives that is the Ars of the Parcae, is not something pleasant. What I wished had no relevance, this was one of many debts I had to pay.
I focused again upon the auras, casting my other vision, the one that saw futures, upon the child in question. Even without eyes, my face contorted into a painful squint, old habits being hard to break. The thread of light that is her future appeared more distinctly, no longer hidden by the then and there, but clear, almost sharp for such perception. But it eluded me.
"She will survive, but pain will be with her for a long while. There is time for the summoning of aid, but not much. As to its source, I..." There is a wash of Power that fills one when the gods speak The powers that guide destiny now speak through me, against my will, but with less than normal vagueness. "Dangers shalt bind thy bookend children. Seek thy father's ally and rival, Bahai-aha-muith, he and the rider of the ass shalt be thy youngest offspring's salvation. But know this now, in saving him, thou shalt lose her, as she finds her true form and destiny."
The hands of the Parcae ebb away, leaving me drained of all but the power to breathe. I felt the fear I had sealed my own doom. Eventually it passed, as the sense of my life stretched ahead of me again. I had not fatally trespassed the gods‘ domain of knowledge.
Yet.
Umbradinor is very familiar with my reactions to a prophecy. His hand held my shoulder gently, supporting me. He waited to speak, holding back his own reaction, until he was sure I would not collapse.
“So Ramali is in danger then. But the threat to Japi be dire? This is no choice, Varamus. This is madness. How can I save both children?” He stirred uneasily. “I am sorry, but this is not the lot any father chooses, to have to decide which child to save, and which to allow to die.”
Time passed, enough for us both to make some decisions. My plans become more solid, as more of the fogs stripped away from the future ahead of me. Those trails shown that took the sea route were less fraught with the shadows of dangers. The ways that touched the lands of Domorushtuu across the sea were dark, I could sense no path at all there. To take the paths of the Grey Desert held more dangers. In my mind a maelstrom of fire, lightning and dust sat there.
I would travel by water, if I could convince Umbradinor to let me. As the girl needed help, and I was headed that way, perhaps?
“I must head east. She can come with us, if need be. By what path I for now cannot see, other than water. Something must occur here first. And in it I see grave danger. You must take precautions, lizard.” At last I sipped the now cold tea, savoring the mints and tangs of the mix. “I looked to the north and south of the Zharnik’s waves, my friend, to the south lies a darkness I cannot penetrate. To the north, well, lets say some new and one old enemy seems to prey upon that path. Not to mention that the sands themselves seemed disturbed, but whether it was normal or other, I could not perceived.”
The Grey Claw of the Shadows pondered these words for a bit. "I shall indeed take precautions. As shall you, old friend. I suggest you take a few days here and arrange transport by ship to the lands held by the bastards of my kind. That is the safest, for the dusts you saw was the madness season come again upon the Lodriken. The Desert of the Shifting Gray Sands is not a safe place, for elf, dragon or any other. Besides, to leave abruptly may call attention to yourself unduly.?" His words asked for more information.
"Perceptive as always, Lizard. But time is of the essence, so the attention drawn by my haste will be nothing compared to the harm the Decemviri could cause back home, or even elsewhere should our land fall.” That was a threat he would understand, for those from the Insulae viewed his species as a nuisance to be tolerated only until they could be exterminated. “Name me a captain with guile and courage, and I shall have Norbanus or Furius make terms with him."
"Yevziva Baladivna and her crew are in port now, and headed towards their ancient homelands.” He said this slowly. Fear for his children still deep in him.
"Another old friend. Now I share your discomfort, this smells of the Parcae, or worse."
He laughed, heartily. "Nay, thy family and I be not in collusion. Tonight is the first contact I have had with those who travel with thou in over two claws of years."
He sighed. "Varamus, you and he together, I trust. But you are asking me to put my daughter, who is just coming of that troublesome age for girls, where they seek some male to bond to..."
An age old dilemma, one only fathers ever faced. He had known in his heart that the girl would soon need to move on, to grow up and leave the nest. But not with anyone with the reputation for disasters in relationships. I could do little to settle that doubt of his. I decided to settle some things now.
"You spoke of meeting the family. Over a meal by chance?"
A snort is all the answer I got. Umbradinor shifted his weight forward, and that aura his kind radiates, that had spurred Gerrae to that great run just three hebdoma before pressed upon my nerves. "You are set upon this course? Can I not turn you aside? For I know as do you, that Ringelius' ambience is a two edged sword, one that can cut its wielder as well as its victim. I recall numerous times when his antics ruined our well-laid plans, to our chagrin. Think hard, and heed me, for I have a bad feel of this."
I sighed. "I am set in my course now, and besides, I need the excitement." I gambled with those words, praying to Fortuna and Befana for their mercy and some luck.
Umbradinor did not speak for a few fingers of falling sand. "Perhaps it is time you met Aisha, and the children.” When he makes a decision, you go with it, or prepare for a lengthy argument. “Come. Yes, you shall sit at our table tonight. For a change we may leave the fugues and double talk we must use out here in the open aside."
Long ago I took up a way of abstinence, which my friend knew of, but something else was at work here. Besides, matertera had said I should eat outside the kalend. I thought long on what all we had spoken of meant, then gave up. Not all could be known to a mind locked in the present. My dietary restrictions of late caused many problems.
Besides, I had a feeling that the Grey Claw intended to make stuffed peppers, a great weakness of mine, and a culinary achievement of his. Some things are not meant to be passed up. No matter the price in coin or indigestion.
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