C7 The Boat and the Village

Chapter 7. The Boat and the Village

The boat rocked back and forth, swaying with the motion of the water below. Kench felt like he was going to lose his breakfast over the rail. He didn’t know the names of anything on this creaking wooden vessel, what was a mast? Port, starboard? Why couldn’t they use left and right? And what’s more, he was a magician. Sure he had never learned how to make a portal, or even how to shimmer from one place to another, but other magicians knew how. The least they could do was make a portal instead of spend so long on an old wooden ship. Hadn’t the humans learned how to travel across water more effectively than this? There had to be a better way than taking a boat to China. Unfortunately, Valera had said this was the only way in or out of the country since the borders were closed.

She had a connection that had guaranteed Kench a tryout for the Far East Martial Federation. Auditions were rare indeed, in fact, unheard of according to Valera. It was invitation only, and featured not just duelists, but all sorts of magic. Anything was allowed: beastmasters, conjurers, demon summoners, elementalists, duelists like Kench, witches with potions, and even people capable of turning themselves into animals. It was rumored that occasionally magical beings that weren’t even magicians competed from time to time.

“You need to learn to keep your food down,” Valera said. She had a transparent bottle containing a translucent liquid. She handed it to him and said, “It’ll settle your stomach.”

“Thank you,” Kench said, taking the bottle from her. He took a mouthful and it had a robust flavor; sweet with a powerful burn. It trickled down his throat, spreading the burning sensation as it went. He felt it hit his stomach and the burn somehow soothed him, easing his nausea. “Where did you get this on a boat in the middle of the ocean?”

“I made it,” Valera said. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m garbage with a wand, but with potions and brews? I can do potions and brews.”

“Well thank you for whatever is in this. The nausea is completely gone.”

““It’s ginger beer, and my pleasure,” Valera said, snuggling into Kench’s chest. He wrapped his arms around her and felt complete. He didn’t know he was missing something before he met this woman. Her wide eyes disappeared in her smile as she beamed up at Kench.

“Valera,” Kench said timidly. “What’s going to happen in this tryout?”

“Well, you’re going to have to perform a series of challenges and simple spells. I can’t do them, but you can. You’ll have to transmute matter, bewitch an animal, and...do you need more ginger beer?” she asked.

“I can’t make it…” Kench stammered. “Turn the boat around!” he yelled to the Captain at the big wheel thing. “Why are you looking at me like that, turn around! I can’t, I can’t do any of that,” he added to Valera. He started to walk to the ship's captain as the boat hit a rough patch of water, upending Kench. He landed hard on the wooden deck.

“Kench!” Valera exclaimed, “Get up, don’t let fear be your master. Nothing great has ever been done when the person was governed by fear.”

Kench blushed and rose to his feet. Valera took his hand and held it tightly, stabilizing him. “I really can’t do any of those things. I know spells that are used in cooking and three spells used in dueling. That’s it! I don’t know any more spells! I can’t bewitch anything, I can’t enchant, I can’t transfigure or transform. I can cook and duel.

“You mentioned that, but when we first met, you said you knew two spells in dueling. Now you know three. Where did you learn the third spell?” Valera asked calmly.

“I don’t know, I just...figured it out,” Kench said.

“When?” she said.

“In the duel with Finnigan. I don’t know how I just willed the magic, and it changed.”

“In the duel with Finnigan, your spells stopped moving in a straight line. They started to circle and tie themselves into knots with his. How did you do that?”

“I don’t know, it just happened,” Kench said, frustrated that he couldn’t give an explanation.

“Well, this will happen too. I know it will. You don’t fail at things you put your mind to,” Valera said.

“I failed to beat Finnigan,” Kench said gloomily.

“That wasn’t a failure, that was a lesson. You finished with the woman on your arm, the crowd cheering your name, and you killed a demon by yourself. You lost in the finals of the tournament that closes the season, ranking you as the third highest duelist next season. Only Finnigan and Garvel Bar, the World Champion, are higher than you.” She finished, running out of breath as she spoke.

“Okay,” Kench said.

“Now, we are going to practice. You said you could bake. I know that with baking you cook some of the ingredients by hand, and others you cook by magic; let’s start there. That seems similar enough to transmuting to me,” Valera said matter of factly. “So, we still have over a week on this vessel, it’s time to begin our practicing.”

“Alright,” Kench said, resigned to his fate. The boat gave another lurch, but this time he was able to prevent himself from falling on his face.

Gulliver recalled his interrogation with Bokamoso, particularly the end. He had to be careful not to remember too far into the past and had to think of Bokamoso as separate from the shadow to keep his memory from fragmenting. Andromeda had healed as much as she could, about as much as Florence had actually, but was much more delicate with Gulliver’s privacy. Gulliver was grateful for that. Sure, she would have to repatch his mind every now and again, but where was the fun if there wasn’t a risk?

Surprisingly, one of the things that helped him think about his past without losing his mind was alcohol. Andromeda had forced him to drink some of his cider when she healed him. She told him she could sense the alcohol in his system and that it was acting as a fluid, facilitating her healing process. That in mind, he grabbed his large wooden mug from the table and took a long draw. It was one of his stronger batches and was doing a terrific job at keeping him together.

Meanwhile, he and Andromeda had been pouring over maps searching for the village of Kokorum. Bokamoso claimed he wasn’t from the village of Vis. Gulliver had visited the tiny fishing village, and it was called Vis, and always had been. Further, the village had contained his mother, the graves of two siblings, and the midwife who had delivered him.

“We’ve been searching these maps for hours,” he finally said to Andromeda. His dining table was plastered with maps, old and new, all detailing the coast of Africa. They had started near the village Vis and worked their ways around the continent. Gulliver looping around to the north, Andromeda to the south.

“Do you have a plan or are you just complaining again?” Andromeda said.

“Again, wait what?” Gulliver asked aghast. Andromeda gave him a playful wink and went back to studying her map. “Oh, you’ve got jokes,” Gulliver said dryly. “I do have a plan. We’re going to Vis,” he said with a tone of finality.

“Why?” Andromeda asked, completely taking the momentum from Gulliver's idea.

“Well...I...cause,” Gulliver stammered. He’d never been questioned in this investigation before, it had always been his. “To look for clues?”

Andromeda looked up at him, a half cocked smile painting her face. “To look for clues? I feel like a character in a children's story when you talk like that,” she said with a laugh. She took a drink from Gulliver's mug.

“Andromeda, you don’t have to come with me,” Gulliver said. “You’re going to have to work out with Zedekiah what happened with Garen.”

“What did you think I was doing while you got the maps?” she asked. “We don’t have to worry about Garen at all. He doesn’t have a trainer, so Zedekiah is reaching out to all the stewards who have done any form of international investigation.”

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“Are there many of those?” Gulliver asked.

“Yes, but Garen has offended most of them. They respect him as a leading member of The Imposition, but he’s never been a part of The Inquisition. Zedekiah thinks he will end up training Garen himself. He also spoke with Yang and they decided that the shadow can wait for now, until Garen has had proper training. Yang said he would use the Chinese Underground to investigate while the stewards played catch up.”

Gulliver thought for a moment before saying, “Clarence.”

A chime sounded and tiny faint blue lights appeared throughout the room. They flickered gently like fireflies through a meadow, then slowly came together. Gulliver found himself staring at Andromeda. She was smiling up with delight, watching the lights. They slowly coalesced, forming one large mass, which took the shape of Clarence.

“Hello, Master Gulliver,” the pulsating blue orb said in his friendly, yet almost robotic tone. “Greetings Mistress Andromeda.”

“Tell me everything you know about the Chinese Underground,” Gulliver said.

“Unfortunately, I must report that there is no record in my database regarding the Chinese Underground,” the orb responded.

“Create a link to the steward’s files and download their information regarding the Chinese Underground,” Gulliver told Clarence.

“Master, you are no longer the head of this investigation,” Clarence said. “As a marshall, you no longer have access to those records.”

“Override,” Gulliver said.

“I’m sorry sir, the magical defensive precautions may completely dissolve my magic, wiping me from existence. If you insist I will attempt, but that is the only feasible outcome.”

“Clarence,” Andromeda said. “I am a high marshal and have access to all records and files at all times, how do I give you my clearance?”

“Merely say the word, and the magic will detect my authorization,” Clarence responded.

“I grant my level of clearance to Gulliver Higginbotham at all times,” she said smartly.

The blue orb faded to a gray color and let off a low humming sound. Gulliver and Andromeda waited for just a few minutes before the ding of a bell sounded, alerting them to Clarence’s completion. Gulliver couldn’t contain his smile, this little being he created was truly his masterpiece. Andromeda caught his smile and raised an eyebrow as if to say she was impressed by Clarence.

“Mistress Andromeda has full access to the Steward’s Guild, including access to the Realm of the Wizen’s records,” Clarence said.

“The Wizen gave me that while I helped him design his Realm. I didn’t know I still had it,” Andromeda said.

“According to all records regarding the Chinese Underground, it is a clandestine organization started over 1000 years ago by common criminals,” Clarence said. “In the last 200 years, it was overtaken by General Yang. Only the leadership of the Chinese Underground knows of Yang's influence. He has used the organization to monitor all illegal activities in China and has apprehended several major criminals through its use. Currently, steward knowledge of the organization is limited to this. Yang estimated to Zedekiah that he should have the premier safely back in China before Garen’s two-week training program concludes.”

“Okay, so two weeks before Yang thinks he’ll have the premier,” Andromeda said. “If he’s right, then in two weeks it will all blow over.”

“In the Realm of the Wizen, Yang told Zedekiah that if the Chinese Underground doesn’t locate Song two weeks after Garen completes his training, he will be convinced that the Steward’s Guild is responsible and he will take it as an act of war,” Clarence said merrily.

Andromeda and Gulliver stared at each other; Gulliver could feel his heart race. He hadn’t been alive in the Great War, but his father and grandfather told him all about it. The magical world had been all but anarchy. The Stewards Guild existed as a group of battle mages with war stories more than an actual government. There was the Healers Sanctum of course, but not much else. The magical community had primarily gone unregulated. China had formed an empire, headed by Yang’s father, Shen. Shen ruled in China for two centuries before deciding that the entire world of magicians should be brought into his peaceful rule.

“We have a month Gulliver,” Andromeda said solemnly.

“I know. They said the last war was carnage. Magicians blood bathed the earth,” Gulliver said.

“Let’s go to Vis,” Andromeda said, finishing off Gulliver's cider. She flashed him a quick smile, then proceeded to round up the papers.

“Clarence, unofficial travel gear,” Gulliver said. The orb whipped around the corner and out of sight. It returned moments later, tendrils of white energy flowing from it, holding Gulliver's trench coat. The other tendril was carrying a brown leather satchel.

“That thing really is impressive,” Andromeda said admiringly.

“Get the strongest cider in a skin for me, and water in a skin for Andromeda,” he said to Clarence. “Thanks,” he added to Andromeda. “It took a lot of hard work to make it happen.”

“Here you are, miss,” Clarence said. “And here you are master. Be advised, your blood alcohol levels are quite close to intoxication. Much more cider and you will find yourself tipsy.”

“Thank you, I’ll bear that in mind,” Gulliver said, putting his waterskin around his shoulder. He put on the long leather coat then the satchel on the opposite shoulder as the waterskin. He flicked his wand, and a worn brown hat came flying to him. He caught it out of the air and put it on his head.

“Really?” Andromeda asked him.

“It’s Sherlock!” he said, taken aback. “Do you have a hat?”

“My hood will work fine,” Andromeda said, putting on her waterskin, then her jacket. She pulled her hood on and looked at Gulliver. “Take us there.”

“Clarence, While I’m gone, monitor all steward channels of communication as well as all steward surveillance for anything that could lead us to Song. We need to find him before Yang does or the Chinese might decide to attack us anyways. Also, try to find out who received the letter from the Chinese informing us of Song’s arrival. Scan the archive for anything that might be useful. They said they sent it, let’s see if it got here,” Gulliver said. “Patch into our wings and notify us if you find anything.”

“Yes, Master,” Clarence said. He turned grey again as he began to scan the steward’s records. Their wings lit up a faint blue, before returning to their usual color.

“I can’t get enough of that little guy!” Andromeda said amusedly.

Andromeda and Gulliver created a portal three miles north of the village. The heat of the African desert was lessened by the dark clouds overhead. The smell of moisture was in the air so Gulliver hoped they would be to the village before the rain.

Once he knew they were almost to Vis, Gulliver said, “When we get there I’ll show you where his mother lives, we can talk to her about Kokorum and see what she knows about it. She was willing to talk once I told her I was investigating his missing persons' case.”

“You pretended to be a human police officer?” Andromeda asked.

“Yes,” Gulliver said. “The village is just over this ridge.”

The village was comprised of about twenty small huts, all circled around a central building. It was close to mid-day, and there was no one out. All of the shops were sitting empty, carts abandoned where they stood.

“Where is everyone?” Andromeda asked.

“I don’t know,” Gulliver said. “Some should be fishing, but there should be someone here.” He glanced to Andromeda and flashed a quick hand signal. She nodded and stepped forward, pulling her wand out as she went.

Andromeda flashed a signal of her own, telling Gulliver to proceed to her right. He withdrew his wand and circled around a cart setup to sell fish. The fish within the cart were fresh, still on ice. Gulliver moved forward, quickly looking inside a hut as he went. It was empty as well. Had they known Gulliver and Andromeda were coming? Was this a trap?

Gulliver reached into the brown pouch at his waist and took out two small marbles, then touched them to the tip of his wand; they liquified and were absorbed. He pointed it into the air and cast his illumination. Almost at once the small white orb appeared before him. He mumbled a hushed incantation and a slight flicker of light emanated from his wand into the sphere. Now Andromeda would be able to see it.

He crept to her and whispered “Yellow for humans, black for demons, blue for magicians, and green for magical beings that don’t fall into any of those categories.” She nodded and pressed forward. The two stewards worked in tandem, clearing their way through the village. One would stop, securing their position while the other moved forward.

Gulliver took the advanced position when the orb over his shoulder changed to a vibrant yellow and shot off around a small hut. He peered cautiously around the hut and saw the illumination crest a small hill and disappear down the other side.

“There’s no one here,” Gulliver said to Andromeda as he broke into a light jog after the illumination. She ran to his side then slowed to match his pace. The edge of the hill was relatively close to the village, and after less than a minute the two were reaching the near side of its crest. They dropped to their bellies and crawled to see over the summit.

A cool ocean breeze hit them, flooding them with the smell of saltwater and fish. The ocean was a bleak gray, matching the clouds overhead. On the shoreline, a small peninsula holding about 100 people jutted out. At the tip of the peninsula was a small boat with a lifeless body laying on it. A little yellow sphere floated above the heads of all of the people on the peninsula save two alone. The corpse, who Gulliver couldn’t identify from this distance, had no orb above it. Interestingly, a short plump woman had a blue illumination.

“She has magical blood,” Andromeda whispered to Gulliver.

“She’s the midwife, the village medicine woman,” Gulliver responded. “Let’s wait for her in her hut.”