Next Morning, before dawn
The group that gathered near one of the larger gates of the Guild hall was surprisingly small. Just Demarest, Carlisle, Joeline and three clerics including Father Marchal.
"Sir Brightleaf is not coming?" Father Marchel asked. The father was dressed for the road and his horse was waiting patiently next to him.
"Misha is occupied with personal issues," Carlisle explained. "And he is not allowed into the vault." The mage was wearing a good, wool cloak over a simple pants and tunic. Tough and sturdy traveling clothes. In one hand was a bow as tall as he was and on his back was a quiver full of arrows.
"It's only a short trip," Demarest said. "We should reach the forest before nightfall."
"How long will it take to retrieve the item?" Marchel asked. The priest had the sense to not mention the culua by name.
"About a day," was the guild masters response. "The security must be dealt with cautiously."
Madog walked around the Guild master with an odd stiff legged gate. "Hi ho! Hi ho!" Madog sang cheerfully. "It's off to work we go!"
"Is he coming?" Torry asked pointing to the metal fox.
"Evidently yes," Carlisle answered.
"Is that a wise thing to allow?" Marchel asked.
"No," Carlisle answered. "But who's going to stop him?"
A woman walked up to the group who Marchel recognized as the Lightbringer priestess Azaelle Ferame. She had her hair tied tightly behind and the heavy cloak and plain, wool dress she was wearing told the priest that this woman would be their traveling companion.
"Lady Ferame," Guild master Demarest said as he walked up to the two new arrivals. "Thank you for coming."
The priestess smiled and then pointed to her companion. "I will be accompanying you today at Lady Delminie's behest."
The guild master pointed to a middle aged woman wearing a simple, tan dress. Her hair was cut short and did not contain the usual ribbons that most women in Marigund usually wore. "This is Mother Cassandra, she is here on father Harson's behalf."
The Rebuilder priestess gave a curtsy to the Lightbringer. "Welcome Lady Ferame."
Azaelle smiled and curtsied in reply. "Thank you. I'm pleased to meet you."
Standing next to Cassandra was an man wearing the black and white clothing of a Predecessor priest. Demarest pointed to the rabbi. "And this is Andrew Glinder who represents rabbi Arstein."
"Now that we're all here we can start," Demarest said. "We've a difficult journey ahead of us. I must emphasize that we must all keep our silence about this. Speak to no one and try to act normally to avoid attracting attention."
Thankfully the city was still asleep at this hour and the group's journey through town was quiet and quick. Once clear of the city the small party was quickly joined by an unexpected guest. A black spider the size of a wolf scuttled from a grove of trees and joined the group. Azaelle stepped out and patted the creature on the head.
"My apologies," the priestess said in way of explanation. "But I thought it best to bring along some extra protection. This is Thadius. My families trained, watch spider."
"Extra protection is always welcome," Demarest said and smiled.
Thankfully the journey to the forest was short. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when the Forest of Tol Doron loomed up ahead. The morning birds were happily chirping away as the group reached the end of the road. In front of them was a tall pillar of grayish brown stone. As they got closer he could see that the stone was covered with symbols and writing so weathered and worn down by time as to be unrecognizable. Cassandra recognized it as being an old Centli ritual place. Such standing stones were common in some areas.
Behind the pillar the forest loomed suddenly. Tall, old trees towered over everything, their broad leaf covered branches put the world beneath into a permanent gloom. Demarest pulled his horse to a halt suddenly. He wheeled and faced the group. "We are now in Tol Doron. Do not stray from the group and do not attack anything you see. We are guests here so mind your manners."
"Are the woods filled with these Dolmen?" Cassandra asked pointing to the stone monument.
"They are common," Carlisle answered. "The Centli honored these woods long before the empire did. You've never been here before?"
The Rebuilder priestess shook her head. "No. We've only recently arrived in Marigund and never had the chance."
"What do you know of this place? The automaton mage asked.
"An old place, a small forest located entirely in Marigund," the woman answered. "Possibly the center of a magical locus. Best known as home of the Doron wolf. Legend has it that a great forest once covered all of the Midlands in the distant past. Now all that is left is Elderwood, Aelfwood, Herstel Forest and Tol Doron."
The mage smiled. "I'm impressed, most visitors don't know even that much."
The woman blushed. "Thank you but my family have been mages for centuries before coming to Marigund two years ago."
"I see," the mage answered. She did not need to explain that her family had fled to Marigund to avoid being killed.
There was a quietness about the forest that muffled all sounds and dampened all conversation. Leaves crunched loudly under each footstep. Echoing all the louder because of the silence from all else around them. She realized they were in an old place, somewhere that had seen the millenia roll by unchanged.
"I can feel a presence here," the woman said slowly as she looked up at the trees that surrounded them. "This is not an Aelf place but it feels as old as them."
"That which reside here is fairly benign so long as you respect the forest and its boundaries," Demarest answered without really explaining anything.
"Are these woods always this gloomy?" Cassandra asked trying to drive away the oppressive atmosphere.
"Not this gloomy," the Guild master replied. "But the woods are not happy about our being here.."
"Why is that?" The Rebuilder asked.
"It's the place we are going," Carlisle answered without actually naming the vault. "They do not like it being here."
"I can understand that," the woman responded. "But it must be somewhere."
"The forest understands that as well but it's still not happy with it being here," Demarest explained.
"I'm not happy with it being anywhere!" Azaelle commented.
"I'm curious," Marchal asked. "Why here? Why not in the city on Guild property there? Where it can be watched over more easily."
"Do you really want all the most deadly pieces of magic in the Midlands concentrated in a city of over ten thousand people?" Demarest said calmly.
"Excellent point," the rabbi said. "But placing it so far from the city almost feels like we are dumping our problems onto someone else."
"Perhaps it is," Carlisle commented. "But there is no simple answer to the problem. These items must be stored somewhere."
The guild master suddenly stopped cutting off any further conversation.
In front of them was another pillar of grayish brown stone that looked to be the twin of the one they seen upon first entering the forest. Resting on the ground next to it was another stone that looked to be a duplicate of the first. This one covered with earth, grass and leaves telling of it having rested there for many years.
Guild Master Demarest walked up to the standing stone and spoke in a low tone as he touched the pillar in a complex series of gestures. The stone laying on the ground slowly started to shift and shake. After a moment one end rose silently off the ground revealing a deep, black hole.
"Let me be perfectly clear on this," Demarest said in a cold hard voice. "Touch absolutely nothing without my explicit permission."
Thadius stopped at the opening and stood there chittering loudly.
"Smart bug not go into the hole!" Madog said cheerfully.
The guild Master smiled. "He's smarter than the rest of us. He can stay here," Demarest offered. "So long as Thadius stays within thirty feet of Dolmen he'll be safe." The guild master turned and walked down into the darkness. The rest of the group followed.
Cassandra found herself standing at the top of a flight of stairs that disappeared down into the darkness. She stood there for a moment before cautiously continuing. She found herself in a cold and damp stairway lined completely with stone.
The group traveled downward for many minutes with each step echoing loudly in the dark confines of the stairway. The steps ended in a small level area in front of a stone lined doorway. They filed through the opening and into the room beyond.
In front of them floating in the air in front of them was a single sword. It was a common looking blade devoid of decorations other than a faint up sweep to the tips of the hilt. Its point was aimed toward the group and it was floating three feet off the floor. There was nothing else in the room. Even the walls were of bare stone and devoid of decorations of any sort.
Demarest walked past the floating weapon without giving it a second glance. In moments he was though the doorway on the opposite side of the room. The group quietly filed past the blade keeping a good distance away. The weapons silently rotated to keep it's point aimed at them.
The new room they were in had walls and floor covered in art. Everywhere she looked Cassandra saw finely made mosaics and murals done in bright, bold colors. She didn't recognize the style of clothing the painted figures were wearing but all looked to be from ages past. She spotted the figure of an elven woman wearing only a skirt, the figures bare breasts were covered with flowing decorations in dark blue. In one hand the elven woman held a bow. The other hand was reaching for the quiver that hung from her hip.
"Be careful of the floor," Demarest warned. "Step only on the floor stones that I step on." With that the mage started walking across the floor, placing each foot carefully.
Cassandra looked back at the even archer and the figure had changed! She was still holding a bow in one hand but now the other which had been empty now held an arrow. The woman tried to ignore the painted figures and paid attention to exactly where the Guild master was walking.
Another look at the figure showed that the painted elf now had the arrow to her bowstring and seemed to be caught in the act of drawing it back. The woman wasted no time and quickly crossed to the other side of room being sure to step only on the correct stones.
Cassandra paused at the door a moment and looked back at the archer. The figure was back to the way she had been when the woman had first seen her. She turned around and found herself standing in front a stone wall. Looking at it Cassandra couldn't see any trace of joint lines and it seemed to be just a single massive block of stone.
Demarest walked up to the wall and touched it in three places. Then he quickly moved backwards several steps.
At first nothing happened but then a faint crack appeared in the wall down where it met the floor. Quickly the crack ran up the wall, then across and back down to the floor again forming a rectangle about six feet high. The crack widened into a deep fracture as the stone inside it shifted and started to push outward in the shape of the door it obviously was. The massive door started to swing open, moving with a slow ponderousness that was matched by the total silence. Its movement revealed a surprisingly small chamber beyond lit by a bright, white light. There seated in the middle of the room was Madog. "You late!"
"How did you do that?" Demarest snarled. "How did you get in here?"
"I let in!" Madog answered cryptically.
"By who?" Demarest snarled angrily.
"You. You open door, I walk in."
"What?" The leading mage asked, confused.
"What he means," Carlisle responded. "When you opened the door he slipped past you unseen."
"Silly mage so busy watching door he not see me walk past."
"How was that possible?" Cassandra asked. "Are all automatons that powerful?"
"Don't forget that Madog is over a thousand years old," the automaton mage explained. "He has learned a lot of tricks."
The room they were in had walls floor and ceiling of a dark stone she had never seen before. Spaced evenly along the walls were a series of alcoves and several open doorways. Everywhere she looked were runes, emblems and symbols of magic. Most she recognized and some she noted were very powerful. All were used for shielding, warding and preventing something or someone from getting past them. What truly unnerved her was that the magic was all aimed inward. These were not intended to keep people out. They were meant to keep something in!
In one of the alcoves rested a spear. It was almost casually leaning against the wall. This weapon had a shaft of gold inlaid with silver and ivory. The blades themselves were made of mithril hammered, smoothed and polished to a high glossy finish. The final addition was a red metal worked into the very point of the blades. To someone observing it the points looked as if they were covered with blood.
Cassandra's face lost its color and she pointed to the weapon. "Is that Tanach Terea?"
The head mage nodded in response. "Yes, that is City Slayer. How do you know of it?"
She took a deep breath and recovered her calm. "It is hard to not know of a weapon that's killed whole cities. I am from Ilturan which is built over the ruins of Ilturu a city destroyed by that weapon. There are still places blighted by that thing that have never healed. It's said the poison will last for a hundred thousand years."
"I cannot reveal all the details," Demarest said slowly. "But four thousand people died before the guild was able to slay its last wielder. And another forty were slain before it was finally safely placed here."
"I will admit to hearing all the tales of the weapon as a child but never did I expect to actually see it," the woman said. She had to suppress a shiver as childhood nightmares came back into her mind. "Let's get the culua and be gone from here. I'm not curious to see anything else that's here."
Demarest turned and walked along the walls of the vault pausing for a moment at some of the alcoves before coming to a stop in front of a particular one. "Here we are. Item 337."
The group clustered around the Guild master and looked at the alcove. Resting on a stone shelf was a heart shaped object about the size of a large melon. It was all of silver, gold, brass and bronze and was exquisitely decorated with a swirls, circles lines all intertwined into an intense pattern. So tightly were they interwoven that it was impossible to tell where one symbol began and another ended.
"That's it!" Carlisle said flatly. "It matches perfectly."
"Now what?" Joeline asked.
"Now you pick up the item," Carlisle said.
"I have already removed the wards placed there by the guild," was Demarest's comment. "But the culua itself has very powerful wards on it."
"Which is why it's in the vault," the automata mage added. "But if Salona's body accepted you Joeline then her Culua will as well. I sense the same wards and spells on both."
Joeline walked up to the alcove and stared at the item. The young woman took a deep breath and then calmly reached out and picked up the Culua. Nothing happened. "That was easy."
"Hardly," the guild leader said. "The last person to try and touch it was badly burned and almost died. "At that point the item was moved to the vault."
Carlisle walked up to Joeline with a small, gray cloth in his hands. "This is made of the Asural and protected with automata spells. Wrap the cloth around the Culua."
The woman took the metallic cloth and carefully wrapped it around the metallic heart bunching the loose edges together in a knot. When the culua was completely covered the loose edges vanished leaving it completely covered by a cloth that was seamless.
The automaton mage smiled. "Good. That will protect it and keep anyone short of a very powerful mage from getting to the culua."
"Good," Demarest commented. "Everyone out. Let's get back to the surface."
The bright sunlight streaming in through the open doorway was a welcome sight for all of them. Eagerly they all exited the passage and stepped back into the forest. Demarest touched the upright stone column and watched as the entrance slowly lowered back to the ground and sealed shut. The earth and leaves around the stone shifted by themselves and covered the stone. In moments the stone looked as if it had never been moved and lain untouched for centuries.
"We're not alone!" Joeline said slowly.
Carlisle spun about as the words for a powerful fire spell came to mind. He spotted a large shadowy figure standing next to a tall elm tree. The wolf was staring at him with the calm detachment of a hunter choosing it's next prey.
"My God!" Carlisle said in a whisper. "They're Doron wolves!"
"It's a good luck sign!" Someone said.
"It's a bad luck sign," someone else countered.
"Where's Thadius?" Azaelle asked looking around frantically.
Her question was rewarded with a loud chitter from above. Perched on top of the dolmen was the giant spider. Who happily leapt to the ground and crowded close to his owner.
"What do we do now?" Cassandra asked without taking his eyes off the ghostly figures.
"We leave," Marchel responded. "We cannot stop here. Not with the item so dangerously exposed."
Slowly and nervously the group made its way forward as the ghostly wolves walked along with them.
It was a long, slow trip home.
When the group returned all of them were quiet and Carlisle looked visibly shaken.
"What's wrong?" his wife asked.
"We saw Doron wolves," Carlisle said slowly.
"A real Doron wolf?" Gina said. Her face alive with excitement.
"An entire pack," Father Marchel said in a whisper, his eyes wide with amazement. "At least ten. They escorted us all the way from the woods to the city gates."
"They came to the city gates?" The Cardinal asked, surprised.
Marchel gave a short, sharp nod of the head in reply. "The entire city is in an uproar."
"They've never come to the city before," Gina said in awe. "They've never left the woods."
"They left the woods and followed us home," Carlisle said in a cold tone.
"What does this mean?" The high priestess asked, unnerved by the reaction of the mages. She had never heard of Doron wolves but anything that upset a mage as powerful as Demarest was something to be worried about.
The woman shook her head. "I don't know. I spent two years studying the wolves and saw only four."
"It means they are worried about this project," someone said.
"No, if they had wished to stop us using the Culua they would have attacked us," Carlisle said. "And simply taken it."
"Why is nothing involving the Guild ever easy?" The cardinal snapped.
"I have been asking that question myself for years!" The guild master commented.
A few hours later a large group was again in the meeting room. Everyone was silent as the religious leaders slowly filed into the room. The only changes from the last time they had been there was a small table erected in front of the one holding the metal body of Salona. On the new table was a cloth covered bundle.
"Thank you all for coming," Guild Master Demarest said. "Our expedition to retrieve the Culua was successful." He pointed to the cloth covered object. "It rests before you still in its protective covering."
"Was there any trouble?" The cardinal asked.
"Unexpected incidents but not trouble," was the masters reply.
"An entire pack of Doron wolves followed you back to the city?" Arstein asked.
"It did," Demarest answered in clipped tones. "But that was not part of the escort I arranged. They came on their own."
"Did they attack you?" High Priestess Delminie asked in a cold voice.
"No, they just followed us. Never interfered in any way," the mage responded.
"Why were they there?" The cardinal asked. "Protection?"
"Our best estimate at this time," Demarest said slowly and deliberately. "Is that they sensed the power of the Culua and were protecting it."
"That makes sense," Harson commented.
"What of the history of the item?" Marchel questioned. "Where was it before being brought here?"
"We believe the culua was already in the possession of Nevittia Aprontinia, one of the five founders of the guild in the year 151," Carlisle explained. "And passed into guild hands at the time of his death. In the year 405 several people studying the culua were nearly killed and it was decided to move it to the vault."
"So the item sat in the vault since that time?" Arstein asked. "All alone and untouched?"
"Yes," Demarest answered. "It was too dangerous to be touched or even approached."
"So Salona was alone all that time." The Rebuilder priest looked at the Culua. "What must it have been like being trapped in there. All alone for so long."
"I can think of no punishment harsher," the cardinal said. "Then to be trapped alone."
"Unwrap this Culua," the Lightbringer priestess pointed to the bundle of cloth. "And let us see this soul container."
Demarest looked to where Joeline was standing off to one side. He nodded his head and the young woman stepped forward. She walked up to the cloth bundle and touched it on the top. The cloth fell away revealing the beautiful metal heart.
The audience instinctively moved closer to the item for a better look.
"Not too close!" Misha ordered. "The wards on it are still active." From a pocket on his vest the fox took a small bottle and a paintbrush. "Put out your right hand please."
"Why?" Marchel asked suspiciously.
"The wards protecting the Culua are extremely deadly," Misha explained. "I am going to give you permission to touch it without being instantly killed."
"And do you have such symbols on your hand?" The rabbi asked.
"Yes," Misha answered. "They're tattooed on but the fur covers them. Along with several others that I am not sharing with you." With fast, deft and precise strokes Misha painted a series of complex symbols on the back of the man's hand.
The Lightbringer Priestess stepped forward and extended her hand. Suddenly a bolt of bright blue light shot out of the culua catching Delminie dead square in the chest and sending her tumbling to the floor.
Misha let out a loud curse and raced over to where the woman lay on the floor. Delminie slowly and unsteadily sat up. A crowd quickly gathered around her.
"Hold still!" Misha ordered. "You were really hit hard!"
"What happened to her?" Azaelle asked in nervous tones.
"The wards on Salona have never reacted this violently," Carlisle said. "Never."
"Salona doesn't like you," Madog said in a surprisingly serious tone. Then he turned and started to walk away.
Misha grabbed the metal fox by the tail and pulled him back. "No you don't. Explain what you mean by that."
"No." Madog dropped his head and tucked in his tail.
"Madog," Misha ordered in the cold, crisp tones of command. "Explain. She was almost killed."
"Salona not like her," Madog answered. "Salona not like ANY Pintia priest."
"That's understandable," one of the Rebuilder priests said. "After all we've spent the last two months talking about destroying her body and sending her to heaven or hell."
"They smash, rend and destroy everything. Others build. They destroy," Madog snapped with surprising anger.
"Same argument, different people," Valarie Delminie said calmly. The woman seemed a little unnerved but unhurt by the recent attack."They used the same arguments eight centuries ago when the emperor Crepereius declared all Automata abominations."
"This is an old argument," the Cardinal commented. "Dating back to when the first automatons were created."
"They kill my friends," Madog snarled. "They purge. Cleanse. Burn."
"Like the Burning," the Cardinal said in a pained tone.
Harson winced noticeably. "The Centli invasion, the Suielman invasion, the Elf war, the lutin invasion and finally the Burning. Why is so much of Marigund history filled with killing and burning."
"All of history is filled with it," Misha commented. "Not all of it caused by religion."
"Much of it was," Cassandra countered from her seat.
"Indeed," Arstein said slowly. "What we don't understand we try to destroy."
Delminie slowly stood up and gently touched the blacked scorch mark on her blouse. It was right over her heart. Then she looked up at the item that had caused it. "This seemed so clear and simple before. Now it's complex."
"Everything in life is complex," the cardinal commented. "It is not any man's place to decide what to do with a soul, or to even have power over another soul like this. No person has that right."
"We cannot punish those responsible for creating this," one of the Rebuilders added. "The dead are beyond us. We are left cleaning up the mess they made."
"We cannot allow this soul to remain trapped, cut off from the rest of creation," the cardinal announced.
"But also we do not have the right to destroy the culua. Our task is to help souls along to heaven," Harson added. "Not send them there personally. There has been too much death and destruction already."
"Our task is to guide souls along the right path and to help the lost souls of this world. And is there more lost a soul then hers?" Valarie pointed to where the culua was resting.
Only silence greeted her in way of answer.
The four religious leaders looked at each other. No words were needed. They all already understood the question. All the arguments and debates came down to this moment.
The cardinal nodded his head ever so gently. Rabbi Arstein, Father Harson and High priestess Delminie all nodded in agreement.
"If we allow this culua to be reunited with the body," Harson started slowly without taking his eyes off the culua. "We will closely monitor and guide her."
"When will you be ready?" the rabbi asked calmly.
Misha shrugged. "I'm not sure. This must be planned carefully. We cannot take any shortcuts."
"When we are ready," Carlisle added. "All of you will be contacted."
They were not contacted for three weeks. When it did finally arrive the message was brief and blunt. "Be at the Guild hall tomorrow by 4:55am. Expect to be occupied for the entire day and out of contact. Tell no one what you are doing or where you are going."
There are quiet times, times when even a city the size of Marigund sleeps. The complex clock in one of the towers of the Menomenta Gul that ticked away the hours had just finished chiming four am. The streets of Marigund was quiet at this hour. The drunks and revelers of the night before had all found some place to sleep and it was far too early for even the workers who greeted the dawn each day. The only thing moving about were a trio of heavily cloaked figures who made their way down the street. The group had come by a circuitous route that now took them to one of the countless small doors leading into the Mages Guild's headquarters. The high priestess hated such covert maneuvers dismissing them as unnecessary theatrics but in this case she understood the need for them. Some things are best left secret. High priestess Delminie knocked twice on the wooden door.
The door opened, revealing a man dressed in full armor. One hand he used to hold open the door, the other held a drawn sword. The soldier nodded and sheathed the blade. Without a word he gestured the new arrivals inside. When the door was closed behind them a light blossomed revealing the small room they were standing in.
"Welcome High priestess Delminie," the soldier said. "Please come this way. You're expected."
They were taken through a maze of corridors and hallways and finally up a long flight of stairs that ended in a door sheathed in metal. Once through that door they found themselves in front of another door and behind that was yet another door. The group passed through that door and Delminie found herself in a room far different than she had been before. This room was twenty feet by twenty feet and only bare stone. In the center of the room was a table made of steel upon which rested the automaton called Salona. The dozen wooden chairs arraigned around the table were filled with people, all of whom Delminie recognized from the last time she had seen the automaton.
Clustered around the table was Guild Master Demarest, Carlisle and several other members of the Guilds Automata department. With them was Misha and the otter woman Caroline. Perched on the end of the table was Madog. The metal fox was surprisingly quiet and still paying no heed to the new arrivals. His eyes never strayed from the still form of Salona.
Standing off to one side were three people. A woman of middle age with slightly graying hair down to her shoulders. The deep burgundy dress she was wearing had only one decoration, the tightly interlocked rings that were the Mages Guild emblem done in gold.
Standing next to the woman was an elderly gentleman who held the hand of a woman equal to him in age. The older couple was unknown to her. By the look and bearing they were people of some wealth and determination.
Delminie pointed to the three. "Who are they? The younger woman I recognize as a guild mage."
Torrey peered at the two for a moment. "That is Lady Elizabeth Lumas and Lord and Lady Brightleaf. Misha's sister and parents.
"Misha's parents?" Delminie asked, surprised.
"Yes," Torrey responded in a confused tone. "It never occurred to you he might have family?"
"I did not know he was from Marigund itself," the high priestess explained.
"An old family," the priest added. "They are big merchants in the sheep and wool trade. The rumors have it that Misha's great grandfather discovered a fabulous treasure up in the Giantdowns and came back to Marigund to live."
Delminie shook her head. "I've heard THAT tale said about all the big families at one time or another."
The priest shrugged. "What I do know is that he brought that massive, black axe back with him. And it's been in the family since then."
Carlisle walked up to the table and took a deep breath. "Thank you for coming. I cannot over emphasize just how deadly what we are attempting is. We're about to attempt what has not been done in over a thousand years. If events go wrong the damage should be limited to the top, four floors of the tower." The mage turned to Misha. "Are you ready?"
"Yes," the fox man said as he walked to stand with Carlisle. He looked at the assembled mages clustered around the table. "We've discussed and planned this. But there is no way to tell how this will go. Endure it as long as possible but when you feel yourself slipping break the connection and back away."
Carlisle turned to the assembled audience. "Do not approach us once we've begun. We are working with very deadly magic."
The mages clustered close around the table until Salona was no longer visible. After a moment Marchel became aware of a feeling in the air as if it was charged electricity. He was reminded of how it felt during a lightning storm when the very air was filled with the power of the storm. He felt the hairs on his arm standing on end. A soft glow suddenly covered Misha's body and quickly spread to all of the mages.
The room was as silent as a tomb while the mages worked on the feline. The hours passed slowly and no one was sure what time it was. To Marchel the beating of his own heart was like a loud drum booming across a mountain side. Could everyone hear it? Were they hearing it and just ignoring it out of politeness? Some people sat still, while others got up and walked around. One took out a bag and started quietly eating an apple.
Through it all Madog stood as still as a statue. Watching over the process like the gargoyles that glowered down from above the Gargoyle gate leading into the city.
Suddenly Joeline let out a cry, staggered backwards and collapsed to the floor. A dozen people rushed over but Caroline got to the woman first. Second to the prostrate woman was the healer. They stretched the woman out carefully and began to examine her with the skilled movements of a professional healer.
"What's wrong with her?" The cardinal asked keeping his distance and allowing the healer to use her skills.
"Exhaustion," Caroline responded instantly. "Working the magic is very tiring."
"Are you a mage as well?" The rabbi asked.
"No, but I've seen Misha work it enough to know what happens."
"How long will this take?" Marchel asked.
Caroline shrugged. "No way to know but probably all day at the least."
The hours seemed to drag by, each second taking a lifetime. One by one the other mages began to drop out. Some collapsing to the floor where they stood and some managing a few steps backwards first. Finally only Carlisle and Misha remained still intently working.
The glow around them and the table grew in intensity until Marchel had to squint. Then suddenly the glow vanished like a candle being snuffed out. It took a moment to get used to the darkness after the bright light. The priest could see Misha and Carlisle both sprawled on the floor.
Caroline reached Misha in moments and with surprising strength lifted her lover off the floor and gently placed him in a chair. "Misha!" She cried.
Misha looked up at Caroline and weakly wagged his tail. She hugged him tightly and tenderly kissed him. Next to the otter and the fox Gina was tendering to her husband. Carlisle looked to be in no better shape the Misha.
"Are they all right?" One of the Rebuilders asked.
"We'll be fine," Carlisle answered. "Just exhausted."
Misha gave a weak wave of his hand. "It was far harder than I expected."
The cardinal smiled. "I am glad you both survived. Did you succeed?"
"Yes," both mage and fox answered in unison.
All eyes turned to Salona. The metal feline was resting in the same place as before but to Marchel she seemed different. Before it had always looked like an inanimate metal statue devoid of life. But now she felt alive. He peered carefully at her trying to explain why she was different. His eyes saw no change but in his heart and mind he felt a difference.
To Marchel it seemed like forever as the sabertooth just lay there unmoving. The room was utterly silent. No one moved or spoke; waiting for any sign from Salona. None of them was sure what she would do. Would she attack them all instantly? Perhaps she would try and flee? Perhaps she'd do nothing at all. What happens to a soul left alone for over 600 years?
Click! The sound was soft and slightly muffled like it was coming from deep within the automaton.
Slowly the left ear spun about lazily. Then the right ear moved. The two ears flicked about for a moment. The eyes fluttered and then opened wide. Then the massive, metal cat stood up. Her mouth opened wide in a yawn revealing a set of impressively large, sharp teeth. She stretched each of her legs slowly and deliberately. Marchel was reminded of Sprinkles, his own house cat.
"Does she know we're here?" Joeline asked nervously.
The massive, metal head snapped around in the girl's direction and those metal eyes widened with surprise.
"She does now," Misha muttered as his hands tightened their grip on his axe. "No one move."
"She's undoubtedly very confused," Carlisle said speaking softly.
Slowly the metal Smilodon looked at each of the people in the room. Her head moving and her eyes missing not the smallest detail of each one.
"Irtul fuw shun tulano," the feline said in a deep, growling voice.
"Anyone speak old Suiel?" Misha asked slowly.