Indeed, the remnants of the charge turned and fled from the plaza. Everyone let out weary sighs.
“I am glad that part is over,” Marak said amidst the silence. “We need to find out what happened to the Qubari army. They can be useful in taking care of those creatures that managed to escape.”
Mistake immediately wove an air tunnel to the city gates. She spoke to Voltak and discovered that the gates were locked. Everyone listened to what had happened the night before.
“You will have to open the gates again,” Marak said to Rejji. “You will need an escort. Choose whoever you want.”
The Astor looked around at all the weary faces. He did not have the heart to ask any of the warriors to escort him. He knew they were all exhausted, although not as badly as the mages.
“Mistake and MistyTrail will escort me,” Rejji announced. “Their blades may be short, but they are fresh and fast.”
“Are you sure?” asked Mobi. “You must be protected.”
“I am sure,” nodded Rejji. “We will move swiftly while the hellsouls are still looking for places to hide. On the way back we will have the entire Qubari army to protect me. Do not worry.”
The Torak grinned as Rejji, Mistake and MistyTrail left and ran towards the gates of the city.
“They will do fine,” he smiled. “Let us regroup in the temple. We need rest.”
The group returned to the temple. They closed the doors but did not barricade them. As everyone sat and relaxed to restore their energy, Lyra walked over and sat next to Marak.
“Why have you hidden your magical talents?” she asked.
“I am from Khadora,” explained the Torak. “Do you really think any of the Khadorans would have followed a mage? They were not ready for that.”
“I understand,” nodded the Star of Sakova, “but there are others that you could have told.”
“I could have told you,” agreed the Emperor, “but I chose not to. I did not wish to deal with remembering whom I had told and whom I had not. It has been my most closely guarded secret. Not even Halman and Gunta knew.”
“Goodness,” replied Lyra. “I did not realize that there was anything that they did not know about you.”
“They do not yet know that I am half Chula,” the Torak revealed.
“Will that matter to them?” asked Lyra.
“Not any more,” smiled Marak. “Nor will the fact that I am a mage. In the beginning, any of this knowledge about me could have caused things to turn out very differently, but now it does not matter any more. The Khadorans must accept the Chula. Perhaps the knowledge of my ancestry is what will make people realize that they need to unite. I do not know.”
“Your use of magic can still remain hidden,” offered Lyra. “Everyone here will remain quiet, except perhaps for the elves, but they will leave soon. I doubt that they will ever return.”
“I hope they do return,” replied Marak. “We will need all of the help that we can get in the coming times. As for my magic remaining secret, I do not have to even ask anyone here not to mention it. I am sure they will not talk about it unless it is already known. I am not sure that it needs to be secret any more, though. It almost feels good for the secret to be ended.”
“I can understand you having the ability,” probed Lyra, “but how did you develop the skills required? Someone must have been teaching you.”
“I have had tutoring over the years,” admitted Marak. “Slaves were the first to teach me. They had no reason to spread the word about my abilities. Lately the Chula have been teaching me. They truly know more about me than anyone. I have always felt that my secrets have been safe with them, more so than my Khadoran followers. The Chula have never let me down.”
“Nor will the Sakovans,” smiled Lyra. “They know that you have been sent by Kaltara as I have.”
“You are blest with the Sakovan people,” the Torak replied. “I have always felt at home in their midst.”
“The vision that you saw regarding Angragar,” asked the Star of Sakova. “Did it come true?”
“It did,” nodded Marak, “and for the better. I saw LunarSigh fall in my dream. I could not tell if she was mortally wounded. I am quite pleased that she was not.”
“Why did you not mention it?” asked Lyra. “Couldn’t we have had a chance to change the vision?”
“We might have,” frowned the Torak, “but at what cost? What if we managed to save LunarSigh, making the vision inaccurate? Would you have been struck down instead? Or myself? Or Rejji? I intentionally watched out for LunarSigh during the battle, making sure her sector was always covered. Yet I had not anticipated a thrown rock. Trying to alter the outcomes of visions is something that we need to talk seriously about. Is Kaltara showing us what must be, or is he offering us a chance to be prepared to alter our fates?”
“A good question,” Lyra frowned in thought. “Were I in your position, I am not sure what I would have done. My first impulse would have been to eliminate LunarSigh from the group, but you present a valid question about the wisdom of doing that. As it turned out, the outcome was quite pleasing. Had I substituted someone else for LunarSigh, who is to say what might have happened out there?”
“For the visions to be of help to us,” nodded the Torak, “we must discover the effects of altering them. I would prefer to experiment with a situation that is less dangerous than the one we just went through.”
“I agree,” replied Lyra. “What is our next step?”
“The Qubari army must search out the last of the hellsouls,” answered Emperor Marak. “Angragar will not be habitable until that is accomplished. Then you, Rejji, and I must enter the prayer chamber here. I have no idea what happens after that.”
“It will be in Kaltara’s hands,” smiled Lyra as she grabbed the Torak’s hand and squeezed it. “I just know that he has brought us together for a noble purpose. We will accomplish whatever he tasks us to do.”
Marak gazed into Lyra’s eyes and smiled broadly. “We will accomplish much together,” he grinned. “Perhaps even more than Kaltara has planned on.”
“Who can say what Kaltara has planned?” Lyra grinned as she put her head on Marak’s shoulder and closed her eyes.
Chapter 14
Love is in the Air
Emperor Marak walked out of the temple and wrapped his arms around himself. The cold bitter wind lifted his cape high as he crushed the frost underfoot. Marak kept his numb ears tuned to the sounds around him as he walked towards the narrow canyon. The wind intensified in the canyon until it felt as if an arctic gale had descended upon him. He pushed the cold out of his mind as he continued through the short canyon. He actually felt warmer when he emerged on the barren wasteland of the mountaintop. He stared down at the trees towering up from below, his eyes searching for any movement. He knew the Chula were down there, but he could not see any of them. He stood and waited.
His ears detected a very soft padding on the stone-covered trail. He walked to the edge and smiled when he saw a Chula coming up the trail. Riding a sleek black jaguar, the Chula came ready to attack. Only when he recognized the Torak did the Chula ease his battle stance.
“What is the Torak doing at Changragar?” asked the Chula warrior. “We were not told that you were up here. How may I serve you?”
“I need a message delivered to Tmundo,” replied Marak. “Changragar is a temple for Kaltara. It must be maintained as one.”
“It is no longer used,” countered the Chula warrior. “The Chula worship wherever they are.”
“It will be used once again,” declared the Torak. “It is to be maintained. Its rooms are to be furnished, its libraries filled with books and scrolls, its kitchens made to heat food. Replace that which is missing. Fix that which is broken. Paint what needs to be painted.”
“The message shall be delivered,” promised the Chula warrior. “I am sure that Tmundo will immediately do what is necessary. Does this mean that we must come to Changragar to worship now?”