Possessing the Grimstone - By John Grover Page 0,29
smelled of wild mint and roses. Olani gathered her strength and flowing robes, and strolled across the courtyard.
She crept through cobblestone streets and listened to dripping gutters filling rain barrels. A cat meowed near her, but she couldn’t find it.
The black spires grew closer as she hurried toward them, despite the gnawing pain in her belly. Her legs felt weak, but she pushed herself on.
In the distance, Olani noticed some of the council members, white hair glinting in the sunlight, gathered around stone pillars under a great arch. Nachin was among them. He was in deep conversation with the old men. She wanted to know what they were discussing, and why it wasn’t with her, but she was almost at the spires, and she only had enough strength for one trip.
She pushed their clandestine meeting to the back of her mind, telling herself that she would address it with Nachin at a later time. The stairs to the first spire appeared at her feet. Olani looked up, and ascended.
Sooth-Malesh’s door was closed, but when Olani lifted a hand to knock, it creaked open.
She crossed the threshold to the darkened chamber. “Hello?”
Candles flickered to life around the room, and Sooth-Malesh appeared in a chair within a halo of glowing light. “Young lady, why do you come to disturb me? I am trying to seeour enemies.”
“That is precisely why I am here. I know that you can do much more than just spy on them. Think what it would mean to all of the kingdoms to have an actual battle mage behind them. The strength it would give them would be immeasurable.”
He looked up from his crystals. “Have we not had this discussion already? Does your memory fail you, due to your illness?”
Illness. She was almost embarrassed that her symptoms were that obvious. She thought she hid them well, remaining brave in the face of pain. Then she remembered he was a mage: of course he saw her illness. She held her head high.
“It was a conversation left unfinished. Search inside you. The magic is waiting to return, to join the fight. Do not others define your worth.”
“From your very lips. You should heed your own advice.”
“Again with this? Illness casts its shadow on me. It chose me, I did not choose it.”
“It wasn’t the illness that chose you.”
“Do you always speak in riddles?”
“Only to those who refuse to hear.”
“I prefer to speak directly. Your world needs you, and you have the power in you. Exercise it.”
“Who are you to tell me, Sooth-Malesh, arch mage of Cardoon, how and when to wield my power?” All candle flames in the room surged with a hiss, reaching the cathedral ceiling of the tower.
Olani smiled. “That’s the spirit.”
He looked at her with wonder, and then at the room, studying the candles.
“Show me more…” Olani begged.
“I-I c-can’t… it’s a fluke. A burst in the fit of outrage. I-I…”
“The arch mage of Cardoon, indeed.” Olani turned for the doorway, and the door slammed shut before she reached it.
Sooth-Malesh stepped out of his chair and walked to Olani’s side. “You don’t know what you’re toying with, young lady.”
“I believe I do. And so do you. You can do it. Show me.”
He turned to the candle in the corner of the room. Lifting a trembling hand, he pointed at the candle sitting high on its twisted pedestal. The mage snapped his fingers, and the candle’s flames danced and shot into the air. The fire soared across the room and into the mage’s hands. He redirected the fire behind him, increasing it in volume; it licked at the tapestry on the wall.
Then the tapestry ignited into flames. The smell of soot filled the room. The fire grew, glowing red-orange.
“Put it out!” Olani said with some concern.
“I can’t!” Sooth-Malesh gestured to the burning tapestry, but nothing happened.
Olani ran over to it, grabbing a dusty robe from a vacant chair. Sooth-Malesh followed quickly behind her.
She patted the flames out with the robe until nothing but a trickle of black smoke remained. The tapestry was scorched. She turned to Sooth-Malesh and laughed.
He shook his head and sighed, then he, too, laughed, the soundechoing throughout the chamber.
###
Trumpets blared across every city wall. Pim stared in awe at the great army around him. Thousands of Cardoon men were dressed in their best armor with tones of sliver, emerald, and copper, highlighted with ruby hues, helmets adorned with tassels and plumes, all brandishing their finest weapons, from swords and maces, to halberds and axes.
There were foot