Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

Chaos Shrine

“The storm is what we call progress.”

LIEN

“It’s so … beautiful,” Isabelle gasped.

Relic looked and spoke as if lost in a dream.

“Do you have any idea what this means?”

She nodded.

“Definitely.”

“Do you really?” he asked, surprised.

She shook her head in slow motion and mouthed the word: “No.”

Relic glanced at her and smiled, meaning to turn back to the dazzling walkway before something stopped him.

“Isabelle?”

She pried her gaze away from the colors to look at him.

Relic pointed to her neck.

“You’re glowing.”

Isabelle opened the top of her cloak, withdrawing her necklace, and Relic’s eyes widened as he saw the cinched jadeite shining bright green.

“Did Jace give that necklace back to you after Sand—” Relic started, but Isabelle interrupted.

“What does this mean?”

He paused.

“I …” he leaned closer. “I don’t know. There’s a lot of material in Thean’s record book about precious stones, but I haven’t figured it all out yet. Most of the information feels incomplete, like it’s missing other—”

“We gotta find Jace,” she said, cutting him off again, turning urgently back to the door. Her hand was moving toward the doorknob when it turned on its own, and then opened to reveal Hazel Lien.

“Oh. Sorry,” she said pleasantly, seeing they were just inches away. “I’m Hazel, we sorta met at lunch today. Hope I didn’t startle you.” She was dressed for the elements, and carried a pack similar to their own. “I’ve been told to summon you to Paladin Hall.” Isabelle and Relic exchanged a glance. Hazel smiled, expelling a little breath as she nodded. “It’s the hallway with all the knights.”

“Thank you,” Isabelle said, returning her polite smile as she brushed past and started on to the stairs.

Relic made to do the same, but then glanced back to Hazel. She caught it.

“You wanna know how the ballast was recovered,” she said. “Don’t you?”

“Yeah. That’s one of about a hundred questions I have, actually. How was it all recovered from the ocean floor?”

“It wasn’t. There were no shipwrecks.”

Relic just stared.

“Come again?”

“The Beacon Fleet reached its destination,” Hazel said, laughing a little at the look in Relic’s eyes. “Made it to the continent of Emren. They just weren’t allowed to return.”

“But then,” he stepped closer to her. “How is the ballast here?”

She smiled a little bit wider.

“That’s a very long story, Outrider.”

Relic took a breath and crossed his arms, the lantern still dangling from his hand.

“Well, maybe you can tell it to me. I’m something of a historian.”

Hazel’s eyes narrowed, and while she kept them on Relic, her head turned slightly away.

“I know who you are, Relic.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” she said, then paused, letting the moment linger. “And I’m something of a historian myself.”

“Later tonight, then?”

She twisted to the side and tapped the pack she was carrying.

“Raincheck,” she said, and in a strange bit of timing, a violent gust of wind shook the doors. “Literally, I guess,” she laughed.

Relic made the connection, and when he did his expression was incredulous.

“You’re leaving? ... In this?”

She nodded.

“I am.”

She was bundled up in the gear of a ranger, protected against the ravages of the weather. Only her cloak seemed odd. It was a bright crimson, and looked much thinner than the practical kind demanded by a far-ranging scout. It was closer in style to a robe.

Relic looked on the verge of saying something, when Charles, the skillful toastmaster and head servant from lunch, entered the lobby. His hands were overflowing with parchments as he rushed along on some unknown business, and he nodded at them with an infectious grin before vanishing into a corridor.

The break drew their conversation to a natural end.

“Well. Good luck, Hazel.” He stepped away to let her go.

“Thank you,” she said. “I think we’ll probably meet again soon.”

Relic raised his eyebrows, and a line of curiosity creased his forehead.

“Yeah?” he asked. “What makes you say that?”

Hazel turned to the door and let the storm in, but before passing through it she glanced over her shoulder.

“Just a feeling,” she said simply, and then with a wink added: “The storm is what we call progress.”

Relic’s jaw dropped slightly, but before he could say anything, or even think to say anything further, she had left him for the wind and the rain.

Cedwyn, Jace and Artemus Ward were halfway through Paladin Hall when the door flew open behind them and Isabelle came running in.

“Jace!” she called, spotting him.

He turned around, slightly behind the others.

“Hey.”

Slowing to a walk, she started to withdraw the necklace, but when she saw Artemus looking on with interest, let it go.

“You’re soaked,” Jace said, looking her over.

Her focus shifted back to him.

“You’re very observant.”

“What were you doing?”

“Something with Relic,” she said, ever mindful of present company.

“Oh. You guys alright?”

“Yeah.” She took an extra moment to catch her breath and swallow. “Yeah, we’re fine. There’s just …” She tilted her head down, lowering her voice. “Something we need to talk about later.” When she raised her eyeline again, she noticed Jace was just staring, and a quirky little smile curved her lips. “Are you alright?”

“Me? Yeah, I’m way good.” He motioned her closer with two fingers, bending slightly.

Leaning in, Isabelle raised her eyebrows, a sort of tentative amusement on her features as she turned her ear close to his mouth.

“What?”

Jace leaned closer still.

“You are ... really, extremely gorgeous,” he whispered.

With a mock gasp, Isabelle narrowed her eyes as she looked into his. Their faces were just inches apart.

“You’ve been drinking,” she whispered.

Just then, Relic burst into the corridor and she stood up and back.

“Hey, Relic,” Jace greeted him, having never moved a muscle. He waited a second and smiled. “Not enough light in here for ya?”

Relic glanced down to the lantern, realizing only then that it was still in his hand.

“Just set that down anywhere, son,” Artemus called from where he was in the midst of conversation with Cedwyn. “Only I wonder if you’d be so kind as to keep it away from our knights. I think Charles has reassembled enough of them for one day.”

Relic smiled, a little embarrassed as he extinguished the lantern and placed it beside the door.

“We just saw one of your scouts leaving the mansion,” he said.

Artemus nodded.

“Hazel.”

Relic took a few steps further in, closer to Jace and Isabelle.

“Where is she going?”

“Why … on a mission, of course.”

“What kind of mission?”

“The secret kind, I’m afraid. You may have noticed that becoming an unfortunate theme to your visit so far.”

“Oh. We have,” Isabelle said.

Relic glanced to Jace then, expecting him, perhaps, to help in pressing Artemus further, or at least share in his concern. Instead, he found him paying no attention at all, more interested in examining a loose string at the end of his sleeve.

Artemus extended his arm toward the opposite end of the hallway.

“Let’s remedy that then, shall we? Legis Duchenne is waiting.”

Isabelle smiled.

“Legis Duchenne,” she said, making her way with Jace and Relic to the other two men up ahead. “Still sounds strange to me.”

When the five were gathered, Artemus continued to lead, and the Outriders followed in the empty sight of the knights. The hall was much different from how it appeared that afternoon. The windows were black with night; flooded every so often by a flash of electric blue, and the corridor was warmly illuminated by an unseen ambient light. This too troubled Relic; reminding him of the luminous crystals golden riders attached to their horses. Normally, especially since Westwood, Relic thought, Jace would have noticed the similarity as well.

But he didn’t.

Reaching the end of Paladin Hall, they passed into an immense rotunda where a dozen corridors intersected and led off across gleaming marble floors.

Exquisite tile work covered the walls, depicting mythical beasts in different settings: here, a golden-plumed griffon rose from among majestic redwoods, while there, a pack of cabbits reared vigilantly amidst some desert brush, their slitted eyes gleaming jade. But by far, the largest creature was a thrashing serpent, sea foam glistening on its impeccably rendered scales, as its elongated jaw opened in a howl of dominance.

Though the creatures seemed far apart, the scenes all blended as they rose, the sky taking on the same grayish tinge it bore behind the snapping leviathan. The eye was drawn up through sweeping, storm-whipped clouds all the way to a high, domed cathedral ceiling – and this was covered with a raised panel of a jewel-inlaid map, each detail picked out in priceless gems. Even the dozens of flowers they had seen as they galloped through the fields were not as rich and diverse in color as this single work of art.

Arrayed around the center point of the strange map, a quartz and quicksilver compass, easily the size of a small table, sat on the highly polished floor. As they passed, they saw its needles were pointed due northward. But it was the elegant spiral staircase in the center of it all that Artemus made his way toward.

Again, he was blind to the splendors around him.

Numbed by the years of living there.

“This place is like a maze,” Jace said, and all around seemed surprised, as the speech interrupted a long quiet where only the rain and sound of their footsteps broke the silence.

Artemus didn’t appear surprised at all, answering with the calm casualness with which he constantly carried himself.

“I remember sharing that sentiment myself when I first arrived here,” he said. “But it shrinks in short order. Like anything else, it’s simply a matter of time.”

They were at the bottom of the stairs now, making their way into yet another straightaway, but while this lower section of the rotunda was identical in layout, there was only one corridor, leading north.

Now, the four Outriders stood at the edge of another circular room. The ceiling here was domed stone, but it was not as lavish as before; painted with a delicate symbol, something like knotwork, that incorporated intricate and carefully balanced arcs. Around this tangle was a border of elaborate runes, and the entire thing was exactly as large as the fountain that stood below it.

All around the fountain stood a lavish garden, every flower, bush and fruit seeming amazingly oversized. It was as if everything had been allowed to grow wild on some fantastic, secret nourishment, yet nothing crept across the paths or interfered with any other living thing around it. Trees and berries grew everywhere, and the artificial light shone brightest here. Exotic birds were chirping in the boughs, tempting the onlookers to contemplate a wildlife sanctuary beautiful and surreal.

It went back as far as they could see.

They were mesmerized.

Relic turned to take a step into the place, but Artemus held out a hand, grabbing the Outrider’s arm with such force that it drew attention from the others. The action might have been suspicious, a not-so-subtle attempt to keep them from getting a better view of this spectacular chamber beyond. It was a suspicion that faded, however, when Artemus held out his hand to a large, jacquard tapestry depicting the main street of a quaint little town.

Cult symbols of animals hung from wooden poles, their sharp claws and fangs picked out with red dust. On these streets—

Artemus reached out and touched it. His hand disappeared.

“Please,” he said simply, and then he brought his hand back from within the illusionary stone. “It’s time for your questions to be answered.”

With a single step forward, he vanished through the wall, but his voice could still be heard. “And this time, dear Outriders, that is a promise I intend to keep.”

Cedwyn glanced around at his friends

“Right ...,” he said. “I give it ten minutes before he’s mysteriously called away again.” Then he smirked and was the first to follow.

Relic was next, disappearing past the tapestry without so much as a word or glance back to Isabelle and Jace.

Jace was still, smiling a little when Isabelle looked at him. Again, she reached up to the necklace around her neck, thinking of mentioning what had happened before realizing they lacked the time; so she just smiled back at him instead and took his hands in hers. Facing him, she took a slow step back through the wall, pulling him with her.

Together, they disappeared.

At first, everything fell to darkness, although the sensation was like walking through an open space. Then, as quickly as things had been snuffed out, the light returned, and they were standing in another place.

Until this point, the theme of Lornda Manor could have been described as immense. It was a place of one grand, gigantic chamber after the next. So not a one of the Outriders would have guessed that beyond the secret wall lay nothing more than a small, circular niche. There were no decorations, no aesthetically pleasing trinkets gathered from around the world. The light was from common torches, not some unseen, magical source. The floor was stone, simple and smooth; the walls were the same. In the center of the room was a sturdy wooden table set with a steaming kettle around which several tin cups were placed. Behind it stood seven unremarkable chairs.

“Please, be seated,” Artemus said, gesturing to the table. “This will only take a moment.” He slipped a sapphire from his pocket.

“We’re ready here,” he said into it.

Jace and Relic exchanged a glance.

“Understood,” came a voice from the stone, now glimmering blue.

“Charles,” Artemus went on. “If you would, before raising Legis Duchenne, I wonder if you might raise the others. A brief explanation of what we are about to see is in order.”

“All of them, sir?”

Artemus smiled at the Outriders now facing him from behind the table. He had expected the baffled expressions he found there, but they amused him nonetheless.

“No, no. A few examples should suffice, thank you.”

“As you wish.”

The cobalt sparkle within the precious stone faded away then, and while Artemus still held it in his hand, he was addressing the Outriders now.

“I must apologize for this brief delay, but were I in your shoes, as I once was, I would expect an explanation.”

“Yeah, explanations are good,” Jace said. “And maybe you could use one of them to explain why you’re communicating with sapphires. Jaden said it wasn’t safe out here. Not past Sandia, she said.”

Before Artemus could even respond, all four torches in the room flickered around them, and the one mounted to their right changed suddenly from the color of flame to a deep, unnatural crimson. The wall they had come in through, solid once more, held a torch that shifted to a bright emerald green. On the Outriders’ left, the fire blazed violet.

No one spoke, and even if they could find words in that moment, it was unlikely they would have. Jace was still staring straight ahead, at the torch that had not altered its light in any way, when Artemus began speaking again.

“You are sitting in what is called a Ciridian Communion Vault,” he began, stepping to the front of the room, his shadow cast by the only unchanged torch. “To my understanding, you met Jaden in one, though no two are exactly the same.”

“They were called Communion Vaults,” Isabelle whispered, remembering Relic’s words in Sandia. Spellbound, her wide eyes glittered the reflection of purple flame.

“There was a time,” he held up a finger for emphasis. “A time not so long ago as Ciridian’s fractured memory would suggest, when this chamber was a hub of activity; a means of communication between all the nations of this continent, regulated right here by Jaden. A time of unity, trust, and cooperation. The sapphire you were wondering about?” He tossed it across the chamber to Jace, who, even in his slightly inebriated state, caught it with ease. “It channels the same energies that made instant correspondence possible.”

“Like a portable Communion Vault,” Relic said.

Jace was leaning back in his chair, examining the sapphire.

“She said not to use them out here,” he repeated the point, looking up. “And I hope it was for a real reason, because it would have been convenient as hell if we could have.”

Artemus crossed his arms.

“She was concerned that unfriendly ears would be listening once you got deeper into the Tri-State, and she was right to do so,” he said, his tone matter-of-factly despite the gravity of his words. “I’m also sure she specifically told you that.”

Cedwyn looked down at the table.

“She did. And he knows,” he said, sounding irritated.

Relic shifted in his seat, not the least bit intimidated.

“All of the nations were connected this way? That’s extraordinary.” He paused then, as he always did when initiating an internal debate. “But … I mean, I’ve read some of the ancient ...” He took a second to better articulate the thought. “What ended that? Was this mansion built solely for that purpose? You said this continental communication was regulated here, which suggests this wizardess was like a governor of a sort, and this was an outpost or …”

Artemus held up his hands then, patting the air in front of him.

“Relic, you have a mind not unlike my own, and more often than not, I would go on talking with you until the sun came up. It would be my pleasure, too, believe me. But tonight, time is of the essence, and so, further details must wait.”

“But if you could just—”

Don’t look, or it takes you.

“Please,” Artemus insisted, an empathetic smile on his lips. “You, more than most, know the burdens of time. Tomorrow, I promise, we will sit and talk. But for now, I really must move on.”

Five, six, seven.

Relic melted back into his chair, his shoulders sagging slightly.

Eight, nine, ten.

Jace was still turning the sapphire over in his hand.

“You still call it the Tri-State.” Looking at it a little bit longer, he tossed it back to Artemus.

“Well ... we shall rise again and all that,” he said, catching it.

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

Artemus shrugged.

“Well, that sounds like a you problem, bud,” he said. “And regardless, is beside the point.”

Cedwyn finally looked up.

“Then what is the point?”

Artemus’ response was not given in words, but action, as he drifted around the room. “Morrah,” he said, touching the spot where the wall curved around beside the crimson torch on their right. When his hand touched the stone, the torch grew brighter before a single spark flew from it, hitting the wall and, for an instant, covering it with bright red light. When it faded, the whole of the curve was as a rectangular portal that displayed a room similar to the one they were sitting in.

He continued around the room, reaching the wall behind the table.

“Sindell,” he said, touching the stone. The effect was the same. The wall went all ablaze with green fire, faded, and another room was displayed. He paused for a moment that lasted just a second longer than it should have been, as he kept his attention on Jace with the revelation. Jace did not react at all, which caused Artemus to look away, but Relic did. His eyes narrowed slightly, and it was then he realized Cedwyn was aware of the subtext as well.

After awhile, Isabelle was drawn to something within the visage.

“What’s that?” she asked, leaning forward, closer to the manifestation of the room that had appeared at their back. One of the walls was broken and rent in a jagged opening, letting in the night.

“Most of the Communion Vaults throughout Ciridian are nothing but ruins now,” Artemus casually explained. “The one in Sindell is in the worst shape of all. What you’re seeing is the exterior walls breaking down, the occupied city of Zarponda, and the night streaming in beyond.”

Isabelle was still fixated on it, her body language hardly registering that Artemus had been speaking at all.

“No,” she said, rising to her feet. “There are shadows. In the sky there, see?”

Cedwyn noticed it as well.

“Hmmm,” he mused, twisting in his chair and squinting. “Well it’s a nation of airships, right? Maybe that’s what it is.”

Isabelle said nothing further, hunching over so that her face was only a foot or two from the display.

Jace reached over, placing his hand on her back.

“Iz?”

She didn’t react.

“Isabelle,” he said again, and she moved absently further so that his hand slipped off of her.

“No, they’re not airships. Airships give off light, don’t they?”

She turned back to Jace who just shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

Isabelle sighed, resigned to the fact that her curiosity would go unsatisfied.

At her back, the shadow she had seen in the distance was growing steadily larger, approaching at a ferocious rate of speed. In an instant it was just outside the debris of the wall, and Isabelle turned in time to see the horrible head of a demon crash through the stonework, its jowls opened wide and snapping while two forked tongues lashed the air between jaws full of dagger-like fangs.

Isabelle screamed, standing straight with a start before tripping backward and stumbling.

Jace had noticed the demon before Isabelle, and he prepared himself just in time to catch her. Cedwyn was on his feet as well, drawing his crossbows in a single, fluid action. He fired two shots at the wall, and had swiped both crossbows over his ammunition belts, taking aim again just as his first shots clattered to the floor.

“Demogorgon,” Artemus said, his voice hauntingly calm as he stood near the purple torch on their left. “Or, Winged Creatures, if you prefer.”

Isabelle was shaken, letting out an unsteady breath as she looked up at Jace. After another moment, she let out a tension-relieving laugh. Jace helped her to her feet just as the thing let out a horrible screech, and all four Outriders brought their hands to cover their ears.

“Any chance you could turn it off?” Cedwyn yelled angrily.

The demon’s screech ended as it continued scrambling to get into the structure. Bits of masonry ran down the walls and between the creature’s claws as it scraped furiously, but it did not seem intelligent enough to concentrate on any one spot.

“Just touch it,” Artemus said.

“What?” Cedwyn screamed again, shifting his attention quickly between Artemus and the demon.

“Touch the wall.”

At that moment, Relic stepped forward and did so. Immediately, the green hue of the torch reverted back to normal and the wall was once again just that.

Relic bent over and picked up the two crossbow bolts.

“Why didn’t these pass through the wall?” he asked, looking at Artemus as he handed them over to Cedwyn. “We walked right through it. It’s just an illusion.”

Artemus smiled.

“Actually, it’s a good deal more complicated than that,” he said, apparently amused by the question. Artemus touched the wall he was next to now, and after a flash of purple fire, yet another one of the rooms was displayed, this one a familiar round chamber lit from within by a pure, golden light. It made Relic think of the murals within that seemed to come alive that day. The ones that transported them. It made him think of the color ... red? “Sandia.”

Relic moved back to his chair and sat.

“How are all the torches still lit?” he asked.

Artemus tilted his head.

“I’m sorry?”

“You said these Communion Vaults have been unused for ... however long ...” Artemus smiled, understanding. “If that’s true, then how are all the torches still lit? Even the ones in what’s left of the Sindell—”

“Seriously, Relic?” Cedwyn abruptly interrupted before Artemus could respond. “This is what you’re interested in? Torches and hocus-pocus walls?” He turned to Artemus. “I think we’ve had enough of these pyrotechnics.”

“Indeed.” Now Artemus moved to the front of the room, and he brushed his thumb over the sapphire still in his hand. “I think we’re ready for our meeting now.”

This time, Charles’ voice did not respond. The fire of the torch changed to blue, and Artemus immediately touched the wall, allowing for no more dramatic hesitation; the wall was doused in the flame just as the others had been.

Behind the table, the fact that Jace still had his arms around Isabelle’s waist had gone unnoticed. They were talking too quietly to each other for anyone else to hear. Whatever Jace had just uttered, however, caused her to smile.

“Your breath smells like wine and cigarettes,” she whispered.

Jace grunted in surprise when Cedwyn elbowed him hard in the hip.

“Hey!”

Cedwyn didn’t even make eye contact with Jace. He simply pointed straight ahead. Jace and Isabelle followed the gesture, and both straightened immediately. The room that had appeared was bland, but the scene inside it was not. Maybe if it had just been Aleister Duchenne staring at them from behind a desk, their reaction would have been different. But the legis was not alone; he sat surrounded by a storm of busy officers and statesmen. Chatter filled the chamber, and Aleister looked up over the parchment in his hands.

Isabelle tugged the bottom of her still-wet blouse, straightening it as best she could.

“Hello, Alley Cat,” she said, clearing her throat.

Cedwyn looked down again and massaged the bridge of his nose.

Aleister let the parchment fall from his hands.

“Isabelle,” he acknowledged.

STATIC

Chapter Six  (E) The Counsel of Artemus #2190569 by Dan Hiestand