Penelle closed the door and moved to the dressing table where she sat and cast a scrying spell upon the mirror. “I am positioned within the council building and will be soon, sitting our proper seat,” she spoke to the witch in the mirror. “There is also a development,” she continued.
“You do not seem concerned, what is this news?” the crone asked.
“The boy, Shuran, is being tried tomorrow for Anzillu. He will not allow himself to be executed, but he is up to something for certain. I will make sure I am the one to administer the test and draw his blood,” Penelle said with a smile.
Penelle arrived at Isten’s room, dressed in a low cut fitted dress of deep emerald green. The dress flattered her youthful appearing figure and made her red hair appeared
on fire in the firelight of the torches in his room.
“You look stunning,” Isten said.
She smiled and took the chair he offered.
“I assume that the blood you took from Salmetu was used to achieve this transformation?” Isten asked as he sat.
“Right down to business then?” she said. “Yes, but it was not a transformation. It was used to remove a curse that has kept us from leaving the restorative mists of the swamps. This is my true appearance with the curse lifted,” she said, making a seductive shift in her position.
Isten nodded approvingly at her. “Tell me of this curse. Who placed it?” he asked.
“The curse is as old as we can remember. The history of it is lost to time I am afraid,” she lied. “How do you plan on getting a seat vacated on the council? A member is not likely to volunteer.”
“The matter is being seen to. It is past time a certain member retired, I am just moving that decision along,” Isten said. “You will be seated by cycle’s end.”
“May I attend the trial tomorrow?” she asked sweetly.
“I am afraid that only current council members are allowed to attend, beyond the accused and he that stands as witness.” Isten replied with a sympathetic tone.
“Perhaps I could stand as A’Su? I am a trained physician, someone must draw and test the blood,” she offered.
“Yes, that would be allowed. I will make the arrangements,” Isten said raising his goblet of wine in salute.
***
A knock came to Nagutan’s door. He slowly raised from his chair to return the ancient book he was reading to his desk. He picked up a cloth and used it to cover the vessel of blood on his desk. “Come!” he called.
“Councilman Nagutan, I have brought your dinner from the kitchens,” the young soldier said.
“Where is my normal attendant, I do not know you?” Nagutan said.
“He has fallen ill and asked that I stand his place this night.” Nagutan was not fooled.
“Put it on the table near the fire.”
As the guard passed with the tray of food, Nagutan reached for a vile on his desk, followed him, and took his seat. “What seems to be the young man’s trouble? He seemed in top health this morn?” he asked as he poured a drop of the vile contents into his soup when the guard turned away.
“Something he ate likely. He complained of a sour stomach,” came the rehearsed response.
The soup foamed as Nagutan stirred it. “And was it he who shared that I was a member of the council, or the one who sent you with a poisoned meal?” Nagutan asked.
The soldier reached for his sword but was not fast enough.
“HAZA!” Nagutan spoke and the solder was held fast in place. Only his eyes moved, darting around trying to figure out what had occurred. “You think an old man unable to defend himself?” Nagutan asked as he rose to his feet and approached his would be assassin. “You are not the first to attempt to kill me boy! And will not be the last.”
Nagutan moved to his bookshelf and removed a tome. The shelf slid aside to reveal a chamber on the other side. With a wave of his hand, the statue form of the soldier slid into the room.
“You stay put now and do not move!” Nagutan chuckled to himself. “I will decide what to do with you later.”
“Master, what is this about now? Have you stolen another man’s woman again?” the imp joked.
Nagutan chuckled at the jibe. “I may be old imp but I still have a way with the ladies! No, this is a move of desperation. Someone wants my seat on the council and I will give you one guess who,” he said.
“The kashshaptu?” the imp asked.
“Most certainly, and that fool Vardoran is trying to give it to her.”
“She has a claim on a seat, why kill for it?” the imp asked.
“She has claim yes, but even so there must be a vacancy. Nine seats fill the council and there is no precedent for removing a member who is in full capacity.”
“That did not stop the humans from removing members after the Lalli Mah.”
“That was different, they dissolved the original council when the races could no longer agree on how to handle the mixed bloods, and the fear of their power. Humans remained and took up the vacant seats. The governing rules were altered and then came the Anzillu trials of the Sikil Mah. It was a dark time in history and they look to bring that all back.” Nagutan was getting angered. “Not while I am still around!” he said.
“Why do you finally act master, after all this time?” the imp asked.
“Things are different now, Shin’Ar has returned.”
Morning arrived and Shuran was eager to get a look at the Great Council. Shuran did not have to wait long. It had been light out for only an hour when two guards came to retrieve him.
“Ready?” Mallick asked.
“As ready as I can be. I had a visit after you left last night,” Shuran said.
“Speak quickly we have not time to dally!” Orian said.
“An imp came on behalf of his master, Nagutan. He warned me about letting some woman get to my blood. Find out if you can who this Nagutan is.”
Mallick nodded and as they left the cell he said to Shuran, “Try not to bleed.”
They entered the trial chamber to find a long table with nine empty chairs. Guards lined the walls behind the table and flanked the door they just entered. Another door beside the table opened and eight council members filed in and each took a seat leaving the center chair vacant.
The last member walked in, Shuran recognized him as the man who came to see him the day before. He paused before approaching the table when he looked at the member at the far end. He seemed surprised and the councilman noticed.
“Vardoran, is there something wrong?” the councilman asked.
Shuran turned his head to Vardoran. He was shorter than an average man; he had some dwarvish features, could this be the same Vardoran, Moona and Codger’s son.
“Nothing, good to see you about Nagutan, you have been hold up in that tower for some time now,” Vardoran answered.
Shuran now looked at the man called Nagutan to find him looking back with just a slight smile. Something is amiss here, Shuran thought.
“Let us get on with this,” Vardoran said.
“You stand accused of being a mixed blood weaver. Speak your name and prepare to be tested!” Vardoran said.
“My name is unimportant if you are to execute me. I will tell you my name when you have completed you test,” Shuran said.
“You will tell us your name!” ordered another member.
“He has the right to hold his tongue,” Nagutan said.
Vardoran was seething. “So be it!” he said. “Bring in the A’Su!” he called.
The doors opened and the woman from the night before came in with a tray containing instruments. She placed the tray on a small table, brought out by a guard. A second guard moved a chair over and pushed Shuran into it.
“Hold still,” the woman said. Then she whispered so only Shuran could hear her, “I can see that you pass the test, but I will require a favor when next we meet.” she smiled.
“Penelle… proceed!” Vardoran said.
Penelle rolled up Shuran’s sleeve and tied a long string tightly around his upper arm. “Make a fist,” she requested.
Shuran clenched his fingers closed around the green gemstone that he had been holding when they came in. He forgot he even held it until now.
She thumped his inner elbow several times and probed for a vein with her finger. She lifted a tube with a small animal quill affixed to the end. She jabbed the hollow quill into his arm.
Shuran focused his thoughts on the blood that flowed from his vein, warping it.
Penelle began to look excited, Shuran noticed. Her gaze widened as she stared into the blood pooling into a waiting vessel below the crude tool funneling blood from his arm. She continued to let it flow and Shuran was starting to feel discomfort and strain from weaving the transformation into his blood.
“Enough! Penelle get on with it, you have more than is required!” Nagutan commanded.
Penelle regained her composure and pulled the quill from Shuran’s arm and handed him a bandage to apply pressure where she stuck him. She moved the blood to the table and put a glass rod into the blood and then moved it into another glass jar containing a clear liquid. She stirred the rod around, waited to see what would happen. The liquid in the container turned pink.
“He is human!” Penelle said with a look of confusion.
“What?” Vardoran roared.
“He is human!” she repeated louder.
Vardoran shot up from his seat and quickly crossed the room to examine the test results. He probed the contents with the Essence.
“Impossible! I have seen this pattern before. It belongs to that weaver boy from Birchshire!”
Shuran just learned two things from what he just heard. Foremost, Bastien was alive. Vardoran referred to him in the present tense. Also Vardoran was in league with the Order if he knew of Bastien. Shuran was angry.
Vardoran turned to him. “Who are you?” he demanded. Vardoran stared into Shuran’s eyes and watched them flash over with rage.
Shuran stood from the chair and stepped back to join Mallick and Orian who discarded their assumed costumes.
“I am Shuran, son of Dalgon and Sulura, friend to Bastien of Birchshire. What I am is the Shun’Ar reborn!” he yelled. Shuran spared a glance at Nagutan who nodded slightly and gave him a smile.
“What you are, is a dead man!” Vardoran lifted his hand to cast a spell.
Shuran did not wait for him to complete it. He reached into the forces that twisted the gug-lined wall to his side and shifted them. Instantly the wall burst outward and Shuran, Mallick, and Orian ran through as a ball of fire hit the wall beside them.
“Move!” Shuran said. “I cannot find a line leaving the island. We need to get away from these gug lined walls!” he yelled.
“How did you get Codger back to the boat before?” Mallick asked.
“I was down on a lower level near the main entrance. The construction there is ordinary stone.”
They ran through corridors avoiding soldiers and knocking down apprentices who were leaving rooms or walking the halls.
Every hall they went down led to another intersection. They were running blindly without direction.
“STOP!” Shuran yelled.
Mallick and Orian skidded to a halt and turned to Shuran. “What is it?” Mallick asked.
“This is pointless, hold a moment,” Shuran said and closed his eyes. He reached out with elemental Earth Essence. He was able to map out the academy halls, at least those outside the concentrated area where gug was mixed into the stonework. He searched for a path to escape quickly.
“Shuran Shin’Ar! Hurry they are coming!” Orian said.
“Got it. Follow me!” Shuran took off down the hall with two of his Zidu’Si at heel. He led them down halls and stairs until they reached a dead end. “I do not understand!” Shuran said looking at the wall coming up. He started to probe the wall as he approached only to stop short when it began to slide open.
“Inside! Hurry, questions later!” Nagutan whispered.
After the three of them passed through, Nagutan waved his hand and the door sealed behind them. With another pass of his hand, he activated a rune that disguised the door as a solid wall.
“Now then, shall we go up? You will find it easier to exit from my towers; I had them built long ago from basic stone. There is a balcony as well,” he added with a wink and directed them up the winding stairs.
“Nagutan is it?” Shuran asked.
“Yes, that is my current name. And you are Shuran Shin’Ar!” Nagutan answered with a bow of his head. “Questions when we reach the top, I am too old to climb and concentrate on conversation together.”
They reached the top of the tower stairs, where the wall slid back and they entered Nagutan’s tower room from behind his desk.
Shuran looked around to see nothing remarkable about the room. The furnishings were modest but there were paintings, tapestries, and various pieces of ancient artifacts.