The Rifts of Psyche by Kyle West (i love reading .txt) 📕

Volsung Academy exiled him. Surely, these people wouldn’t do the same thing, but he wouldn’t be surprised. He had experienced betrayal before, and he already felt the anger building up.

“As for what we do,” Elder Erymmo said, “that is a matter still to be decided. You must accompany me at once to the Elder Council.”

“You aren’t going to send me away, are you?”

On that point, the Elder remained silent. He stood and gestured for Lucian to follow. “Perhaps it is better if we waited until everyone’s in the same place.”

There it was, then. “No need. I can be out of here in thirty minutes.”

Elder Erymmo’s eyes widened. “Don’t be foolish. Come with me.”

Lucian stood on shaky legs and allowed himself to be led out of the hut.

14

Lucian tried to ignore the villagers’ stares as he followed Elder Erymmo through the dirt streets of Kiro, but he couldn’t help but look up at the ringing of a hammer at Kieron’s forge. The blacksmith paused his work at his bench to look up. His expression was grave before returning to his labor.

The path turned from the main drag which led to the meeting hall, instead sloping upward into a tunnel entrance. It wove up a set of stairs until it broke into the open air, a chamber of a cavern with large openings at the top. But at the very center of this chamber was a stream fed by small waterfalls tumbling over the cavern’s sides, and in the center of that stream was an island. A rope bridge led there, and in the middle were a dozen wooden chairs arranged in a circle.

Six of those seats were occupied; four with the other Elders, and the other two by Captain Fergus and Cleon. Lucian didn’t even have the mind to take in the beauty of the grove. Every one of those eyes were staring at him, and the feeling that this was just like the Transcends wouldn’t go away.

It was his bad luck to be the holder of one of the Orbs of the Manifold. All too soon, he and Elder Erymmo had crossed the bridge.

“Be seated,” Elder Ytrib said. “And stop looking like you think we’re going to push you into the river.”

Lucian sat, deciding it would be best to keep his mouth shut. Every time he said something, he only made things worse.

Elder Gia’s plump face was friendly, but Lucian didn’t trust that expression. It could easily be a mask for something else. “I trust Elder Erymmo has briefed you?”

“Regarding the Sorceress-Queen coming after me? Yeah, sure.” Lucian eyed each Elder in turn. If it was going to be a fight, then it would be a fight. Fergus only stared at him disapprovingly, as if not remembering the fact they had fought side-by-side in the Greenrift. Cleon only stared at the ground, his face paler than usual. Like Lucian, it seemed he would rather be anywhere but here. That said, Lucian wondered what exactly Cleon and Fergus were doing here.

“What we have to say isn’t easy,” Elder Ytrib began, “but it’s necessary. It is a brute fact that the Queen’s Mage-Knights and her minions will be here in a week, or even less. We have less than that amount of time to decide what to do. Ideally, we will reach that decision by tonight.”

Fergus shifted in his seat. “Elder. I mean no disrespect, but why have we not summoned the most responsible citizens and soldiers to this meeting? It hardly seems fitting that this off-worlder and former Mage-Knight would have a seat on this esteemed council.”

“They are here, Captain Fergus,” Elder Gia said softly, “because we are the only ones on this moon who know about the Orb of Binding, along with the Sorceress-Queen herself.”

Lucian looked at Cleon, whose face went even more ghostly. Fergus had mentioned it in the Greenrift, which explained Cleon’s presence.

“We cannot risk anyone here letting that information out,” Elder Gia finished.

“As I said before,” Cleon said, “I won’t breathe a word of it. I promise you that on the grave of my parents.”

Fergus scoffed. “There is more honor among rift adders than a Mage-Knight of Dara.”

“Former Mage-Knight,” Cleon corrected. “If you hold my former station against me so much, then why did you let me join the watchmen in the first place?”

Fergus sighed. “Desperation.”

“Enough,” Elder Jalisa said, her voice crackling like a whip. “This bickering avails nothing. We must decide what to do about the off-worlder and his Orb.”

“Simple,” Captain Fergus said. “Give me twenty good men and every mage in this village, and I can escort him to the Darkrift blindfolded and bid him good luck.”

“Fergus,” Elder Sina said, coming out of her silence with a soft voice. “I would not expect such cruelty out of you.”

“It’s not cruel,” Fergus said. “It’s for the safety of Kiro. The Queen is after him, so let her follow him into the Darkrift. Kill two gloombats with one javelin, so to speak.”

“That is the worst possible thing we can do for the safety of Kiro,” Elder Erymmo said. “If ever Lucian falls into the hands of the Sorceress-Queen, she will have a tool so powerful that none can withstand her. We all know what she is capable of with purely her own Psionic magic. Just imagine what horrors she can unleash if she were to get her hands on the Orb of Binding.”

“Then hand the Orb over,” Fergus said, reaching out a hand to Lucian. “I shall make quick work of it. Nothing can stand up to my shockspear.”

“Fool,” Elder Jalisa muttered. “The Orb cannot be destroyed. The Prophecy of the Seven states as much.”

Of all of them here, Elder Jalisa knew the most about Arian’s work. He wondered what she knew that he didn’t, and whether she would share that information.

“Of course,” she went on, “the work is an incomprehensible babble, but under the influence of the Manifold, it is possible to discern some of the reason behind the madness.”

“And what, pray tell, is