Chapter 15 - The Shapechangers Library

Chapter 15 – The Shapechanger's Library

Gerard believed that if an enchantment to neutralize the Trinity Devil existed, it would be in the castle library. Narkus only allowed his servants inside when he was present. Gerard had always accepted this without argument, as he’d disliked the place immensely; however, now he wished he had been allowed to visit more often.

The corridors of the great fortress echoed his every footstep as he made his way to the book repository. He received no greetings from fellow servants and offered none in return. An engraving, a pair of hands holding a flaming scroll, identified the room as the one he sought. Making sure he was not watched, he entered it and began his search. Parchments of essays, pictorials, and anthologies made up Narkus’s reading material.

The only way I can keep from spending eternity in the Black Deep is to do something very big and very good, he thought to himself. Even though I didn’t choose this wickedness, I participated in it just the same. The Afterlife counts actions, not intentions.

The one advantage he had over the Trinity Devil was the fact that the creature was conceived through incarnation, and being inanimate, possessed limited intelligence. If he could find a way to turn the Trinity Devil against itself, he could take advantage of its own enormous venom to deal a death blow to the snake. His challenge was to find the spell that would accomplish this.

Thousands of volumes littered the shelves. Gerard thought he would have as much of a chance locating the right spell as he would finding a chameleon at the end of a rainbow. He pored through manual after manual. Although he had become an adequate reader under the instruction of Narkus, the Shapechanger’s writing level exceeded Gerard’s literary skills. With the mass of material available, it could take months to cover even a fraction of the information.

A volume stood out of the shelf with its pages close to falling out. Gerard didn’t find any references to the Trinity Devil in it, but he did find its content fascinating.

The Annals of the Black Bloodstone.

Recorded here is the history of the Black Bloodstone, by Narkus, its rightful owner. On the eve of my eighteenth birthday, I stole into my father Rasturtian’s dungeon and claimed possession of my promised inheritance. My father chased me to this wilderness, but ironically it was a Containment Spell from Acumen that saved me. Now I wait for the opportunity . . .


Hours passed. Gerard could only count on the sleeping potion to last until dawn. He continued to look. Still no luck. As morning approached, Gerard began to panic. He considered returning, covering his tracks, and leaving Tinder’s fate to the whims of the sorcerer. Kneeling against a bench, he furrowed his brow and meditated.

He knew he didn’t have the abilities to match the Trinity Devil’s. He needed something strong enough to beat the serpent at its own game, while not killing himself in the process. He didn’t know of any white powers in the jungle, and questioned if anyone or anything existed that could prevail over the three-headed abomination. With his head telling him it was hopeless, he was ready to admit defeat. Then it hit him.

“Of course,” he thought. “It’s so simple. I was right all along. Although the Trinity Devil is a killer, it doesn’t have a brain the same way a human or animal does. What’s needed is a power greater than the Trinity Devil’s. I know just such an entity and I know how to summon it.”

He took a short amount of time to straighten out the library, thinking it prudent to hide as much of his presence as possible. Hurrying back to his master’s quarters, he checked that Narkus remained curled up under the sheets, asleep.

He approached the carton containing the stone and pulled open the lid without looking inside. Crossing his fingers he whispered, “Astu vita bethu grath Bludstein,” the translation from commontalk of a command ordering the serpent to attack the Bloodstone.

He waited for the spell to take effect. Creeping up to the container, he dared a glance inside. The serpent whipped its closest head towards Gerard and cast spittle onto his face. The Nomad regained his respect for the Devil’s lethal capacity. Disgusted, he wiped off the saliva, grateful it didn’t penetrate his skin.

To his pleasure, the snake’s resistance faded as it struggled to refuse the demand. Twisting and turning, the Devil’s movements slowed as it slithered closer to the rock. Gerard didn’t come any closer to the snake as it failed one final attempt at self-restraint. It acquiesced and bit into the Bloodstone, causing a purple flash to explode as the snake’s incisors contacted the talisman. The aroma of cooked flesh accompanied the sound of the reptile’s carcass sizzling.

Gerard waited for the viper to die. Once it was lying in a smoking heap, he reached in, pushed its corpse out of the way and extracted the Bloodstone.

He’d realized that the only entity more lethal than the Trinity Devil was the Black Bloodstone. As all magical charms have the instinct of self-preservation, he guessed that the Bloodstone would repel the Devil’s assault with a more powerful one of its own. He took the chance that the Trinity Devil’s mental capabilities were too limited to resist his simple spell.

Claiming temporary victory, he grinned to himself over his achievement. Knowing time was precious, he stopped long enough to examine the talisman. It did not seem worth all the fuss at first glance. A black pear-shaped ornament had sides cut in faces around its axis. Five long triangles met at its tip and five shorter ones tailed back to create a pentagonal base.

Gerard replaced the contents of the chest as he found them. He made every effort to prevent arousing the wizard’s suspicion, but if all went well, he only needed to keep his activities undiscovered for one day.

Although a simple will-control spell had worked on the serpent, Gerard realized it would take much more to deal with his master. The Shapechanger wasn’t stupid. Gerard needed an entirely different tack.

#

Opal woke the following morning with Tinder and Major Wright at her side. Gerard led a contingent of guards to their dungeon cell.

“Your presence in the Interrogation Chamber is required,” said Gerard.

“What is he going to do to us?” asked Opal.

Gerard would not answer. Opal took this to be a bad sign. She felt grateful she wasn’t manacled and concluded that the wizard didn’t believe them capable of escaping. They followed stairs chipped into the masonry to the citadel.

A door at the end of the hall with etched pictograms drove Opal to comment, “These hieroglyphics are in the language of the Black Deep,” she commented.

Gerard prompted her and her two comrades forward into the antechamber where murals of mutilated beasts covered the walls.

“The Shapechanger painted these," he said.

She forgot her fear as she marveled at what kind of twisted intellect could imagine these travesties. She recognized that the artwork’s outcome did not stop there. These inspirations manifested themselves into reality through the transformation of the Lost Jungle's wildlife. She remembered hearing the creatures’ horrible cries and the disfigurements they possessed formed pictures in her mind.

Marble statues of animals contorted in agony were scattered over the floor.

“Master also fancies himself a sculptor,” said Gerard.

The old man materialized from out of nowhere. The wizard climbed a throne that appeared as mysteriously as he did and sat down. She had heard of the talent to appear and disappear without notice in her catechism days, but had never expected to encounter it in person. Opal remained standing in front of the Shapechanger along with her two companions.

He wore the same purple gown with crescent moons on it as he had at the hut. Stained stockings above brown, leather boots gave him a weathered look. A sock with a tail dangling behind it covered the top of his head, making Opal wonder if he was trying to be his own court jester.

“Welcome once again, Tinder and friends,” said the Shapechanger. “I am Narkus, Lord of the Lost Jungle. I apologize for the manner in which you were brought here. I feared you were delirious by the time I rescued you, and took the liberty of sedating you for your own safekeeping.”

Opal thought he had the eyes of a liar. Following the lead of the other two, she kept her silence.

“I’ve learned that Acumen has chosen you to be his heir, Tinder,” said Narkus. “I understand the purpose of your mission is to seek him out and become the head of the Order of the Crimson Dragon. But fortune brought you to me first. Although taking his place would be a great honor, it would be an overwhelming responsibility. You don’t know all that it entails. I think I can offer you a much more lucrative proposition.”

Tinder didn’t respond.

“You must understand,” he continued. “The Order of the Crimson Dragon is very weak these days. It’s not capable of governing even a single country, much less the whole continent of Polios. Under it you’ll never have the power you crave. You’ll travel from place to place, working yourself to the bone making speeches and overseeing meaningless ceremonies. This is how Acumen wastes his talent. Is that all you want from the gift you are blessed with?”

Tinder winced. Opal thought Narkus scored a point.

The Shapechanger rose and advanced towards the three, causing Opal’s knees to tremble as he came closer.

“I know many of your dreams, Tinder” said Narkus. “With my help they can come true. You’ll surely fail on your own. If you’re counting on Acumen’s help, you’re too late. He won’t live long enough to give you the tutelage you need. When you entered this jungle you brought with you the ability to work on behalf of the OCD. Our combined strength can overcome Acumen’s curse.”

“Acumen will live long enough,” said Tinder in a submissive tone. “He is too great to mistake his own lifespan.”

“Nonsense,” shouted Narkus. His voice returned to a placating quality. “Acumen does not have that power any more than anyone else. Trust me.”

Tinder shuffled his feet and averted his eyes from the sorcerer. Opal glanced at the major. The soldier seemed frightened by the wizard but maintained his stance.

The Shapechanger faced the troll directly. “I want you to be my apprentice. Once out of this jungle, I’ll rule Polios and you can be the prince of Suva. You can’t resist the chance to stop slavery. Answer me, Tinder.”

Tinder croaked, “I’m sorry. I won’t deny that I wish for some of the things you’ve proposed. But I don’t want to rule through black magic, and that’s all you can offer me. You think you know me but you’re wrong.”

The sorcerer fumed. His body metamorphosed into a purple cloud that filled the room. An apparition of his scepter swung over their heads into the wall, causing the castle to shake from base to pinnacle. A banshee scream was released from the image of a bottomless hole formed on the sides of the room. Coupled with the thunder of the scepter’s bashing, it kept Opal from being able to hear her own shrieks. The evil was so thick she couldn’t move. Her legs went as limp as steamed celery. She turned on her back, closed her eyes and stuck her fingers in her ears.

“If that’s the way it has to be, then so be it.”

Opal made out the hate in Narkus’s screeches. “I tried to persuade you as one gentleman to another. Now I’ll try another method . . .”

Opal understood they were not dealing with any minor conjurer. Narkus was a full-fledged magician. She looked through a crack she’d left between her fingers. Tinder was by her side shielding his face with his hands. The major stood with his back pressed against the rear wall.

“Do whatever you like to me,” whispered Tinder. “I won’t waver. My mind is set, and I won’t change it.”

“No, Tinder,” the Shapechanger’s voice pounded. “I told you I know more about you than you know yourself. I may be wrong about some things, but I’m betting I’m right about others. I won’t waste my time on you. I’ll concentrate on the one you care about most. I’ll incinerate your lady friend, Tinder. I’ll fry her into trollkin toast.”