EPISODE 48:
MASTER OF THE BROKEN TOWER
The air tingled as Vash passed through the irregular archway in the tower’s base. It was almost like passing through a curtain of mana. The very air was thick with the currents of magic. Vash felt his Core thrumming in sympathy at the magic that just this room contained.
that Vash thought, taking in the room.
The central chamber was twenty feet across, warmly lit with mage-lamps at regular intervals. Thick carpets covered the plain stone floors. The carpets had vibrant colors and intricate designs, far beyond the skills of an ordinary weaver. They also didn’t show any wear or dirt, as though they were brand new. A few clusters of high-backed chairs, upholstered with a rich dark brown leather and looking comfortably stuffed, stood near high bookshelves that were absolutely crammed with thick tomes. The entire place smelled of old leather, oil, and books.
Vash was so taken by the entry room that he jumped when he heard the stones scraping back into place behind him. He turned in time to see the last few blocks rotating back into position, leaving the wall smooth and complete, without a hint of a door or any other entryway.
“It does that automatically,” Galia said. “Most wizards would forget and leave the door open to anything that wanted to wander in off the street.”
“Are mages normally that careless?” Vash asked.
“Mmmmm…more preoccupied.” Galia said, making a face and searching for the right word. “A lot of us are too busy contemplating the construction of the metaphysical sphere to notice that we’ve burned our toast. Wizards can get obsessive over details. We love problems, but that means we focus on the problem to the exclusion of everything else. It’s hard to find a balance.”
“I’ve known a few mages like that.” Corwin nodded. “One almost walked into a nest of dire rats because he thought he saw some early Malconian writing on a dungeon wall.”
“Sounds like about half of us,” Galia said, flashing Corwin an amiable smile.
“What about the other half?” Vash asked.
“Ambitious, driven, sometimes dangerous.” Galia answered, seriously. “We have a drive to know things. That can lead down some very dark paths, if it’s not tempered with wisdom and a bit of humility.”
“And what kind, would you say, is Master Astinak?” Vash asked, looking at a staircase that lead up from a doorway in the far wall.
“I’ve never met him.” Galia said, shaking her head. “In fact, this is my first time in Amical Falls. My home base is Harper’s Crossing.”
“Oh, you’re from up in the Rampart Mountains?” Corwin asked, suddenly lighting up with curiosity. “I heard it’s far more dangerous up north, being that close to the Palisade Pass.”
Galia shrugged. “I don’t really think so. The Pass itself is so well defended that nothing gets through to Bastion or the western marches. You’ll get the occasional Gnoll pack that struggles through the mountains or finds a path through the Underlands. By the time we find them, they’re starving and turning on each other.”
“Still, there are some amazing old dungeons up there.” Corwin said wistfully. “I’d love to try my hand at the upper levels of Howler’s Hole.”
“Good luck with that.” Galia said with a huff of annoyance. “The Great Orders have been closing down access to the known dungeon complexes. Even the ones without a shadow taint.”
“Really, why?” Corwin asked with a note of disappointment.
“You’d have to ask the Masters.” Galia said. “I’m just an apprentice. They don’t tell me anything.”
“Maybe we can talk about this later.” Vash interrupted, feeling time slipping away.
“Right, sorry.” Corwin said. “So I’m guessing Master Astinak is up at the top of the tower?”
“The Master’s chamber is usually up at the top.” Galia agreed. “But it depends on the Master and the tower. Only way to find out is to climb.”
Vash nodded, starting towards the staircase. “Well, thank you for your help, Galia. I appreciate it.”
“I think you’re still going to need my help, Vash.” Galia called.
Stopping at the arched doorway that led to the stairwell, Vash eyed the opening suspiciously. “Why? What’s going to happen?”
“Wizard towers are tricky.” Galia said. “Climb to the second floor. We’ll meet you there and you’ll see.”
Vash looked back at her, trying to keep his expression neutral, but his doubt was clear on his face. Carefully, he stepped into the stairwell. Then, keeping an eye out for trouble, he climbed.
The stairway wound around the inside wall of the tower, within a narrow passage that only allowed for one person at a time on the stairs.
Vash mused. Then another thought struck him.
Around the next turn, Vash could see another opening into the center of the tower. He put away his questions for the moment and jogged up the last few steps. Turning into the doorway, he saw…the room he just left.
Galia smiled and gave him a little wave. Corwin looked as confused as Vash felt. Frowning, Vash turned to look back down the stairs. Behind him was just the flagstone floor, solid and unbroken.
“I just climbed at least two storeys.” Vash said.
Galia nodded. “You probably went around the tower about twice. Then the stairs dumped you back here.”
“You knew that was going to happen?”
She shrugged, the beads in her hair clacking softly. “It’s a fairly common defense in wizard towers. We call it a Kellover Switchback, though it was likely in use way before Myr Kellover wrote it down. It’s pretty useful for keeping out uninvited guests. But, it’s fairly easy to get past it. We’ll all go up this time, and when you do, keep your eyes closed. Count twenty steps from the bottom and you should be on the next floor.”
Vash gave the stairs a hard look, as if daring them to make a fool out of him again. He re-entered the passageway and closed his eyes. Keeping one hand on the stone wall, Vash counted each step as he climbed. When he reached twenty, he felt his fingertips brushing over a smooth, wooden surface.
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Opening his eyes, Vash saw a heavy wooden door. Brass fixtures bound the door to the stone wall, and the wood had a rich, dark red stain. A bronze plaque hung at eye-height. Vash saw that the Malconian rune was etched into the metal. He knew that the rune was often used in place of the letter ‘a’ in Common Speech, though that use wasn’t entirely correct.
“A for Astinak, I’m guessing.” Vash said.
“Not exactly subtle.” Galia said, coming to a stop on the stair just below him. Just beyond her, Vash could see Corwin carefully climbing the stairs with his eyes closed. Vash couldn’t help but grin at the big man gingerly making his way up stair by stair.
“I think you can open your eyes now, Corwin.” Vash said.
Corwin stopped and did so. The relief on his face almost made Vash burst out laughing. Rather than embarrass him, Vash turned back to the door. “Should we knock?”
“I’d advise it.” Galia said. “It’s usually not a good idea to barge into the office of a high-ranking wizard unannounced.”
Vash lifted his hand, but before he could rap his knuckles on the wood, the door made a soft and swung open silently on well-oiled hinges.
Galia snorted in annoyance. “Well, that’s showy. What’s next, card tricks?”
“I am a very busy man, and I don’t have time to debate with an apprentice about how I choose to open my door.” A voice said from the room beyond. He had the cultured accent of Solaria or Oxthera, but the quick, staccato phrasing of a long time spent in Galadon. “Please, don’t stand in my door gawking. Either come in or go away, your choice.”
Vash stepped into the room, feeling another tingle of magic pass over him. Glancing at the door frame, he noticed several designs worked in brass and inlaid into the wood. On a second look, he felt the slight thrum of mana from them fading as he moved away.
, Vash thought, .
The room’s layout was very similar to the one on the entry floor. Thick, colorful carpets covered the stone floor. Tasteful tapestries hung on the walls next to brass sconces with mage lamps emitting warm hued light. An extensive set of bookshelves ran along the far wall, every inch crammed with heavy tomes or scroll cases. On either side of the bookshelves were a pair of floor to ceiling windows, currently open to let in the late afternoon breeze. Vash noted that the view through the window was significantly higher than the distance he had just climbed.
. Vash thought darkly. Though he used magic through his Talents, Vash knew that the power wielded by a true wizard was something they wrote about in legends.
Vash turned to look at the opposite side of the tower. A heavy wooden desk sat beneath a tapestry depicting the interconnected disciplines of magic: two concentric circles with a triangle touching three points of the outer circle. Iona had tried to walk Vash through the theory behind the diagram, but Vash just remembered something about the cycle of life and death, also something about energy not being destroyed but taking different forms.
Behind the desk, quill pen scratching over a sheet of paper, sat a man in his early forties. His skin was a pale, almost sallow color, and deep shadows darkened his brown eyes. The man wore a skullcap that covered any hair that he may have had, but the wispy beard that he wore was a dull brown with a few errant gray hairs throughout. He wore a dark gray robe with purple trim on his wide sleeves and around the edge of his mantle. Beneath, he wore a purple undertunic that clung to his skinny arms and bunched around the wrists of his thin hands.
Master Astinak glanced up for a moment before gesturing them to approach the desk. Vash crossed to the desk, noting that there were no chairs laid out for guests. Once they were all inside, the door swung closed and latched itself with a soft click.
“Creepy.” Corwin muttered, giving the door a look of distrust.
“Efficient.” Astinak corrected. “If I had to get up to open the door for every visitor, I’d be up and down all day long. This way I can keep working and you can let me know why you’re here to bother me.”
Vash took a deep breath. “We’re sorry to interrupt your work. But I wanted a chance to talk to you about your vote on the Master’s Council tomorrow morning.”
Astinak didn’t look up. “Yes, what about it?”
“It concerns my future with the Wayfarers.” Vash said, trying to keep his phrasing polite. “I was hoping to talk to you about my situation and hopefully get you to vote in my favor.”
Galia looked up sharply. “You’re the Vagabond? The one who came up through the Underlands?”
“That’s me.” Vash said, trying to school his expression.
“Huh,” Galia said, giving Vash an appraising look. “You don’t look like an assassin hell-bent on overthrowing the kingdom.”
“Looks can be deceiving.” Astinak said, glancing up at Galia. “And who are you?”
“Galia Amneris.” Galia said, holding herself straighter. “Magus of the First Circle.”
Astinak quirked an eyebrow. “Amneris?”
Galia nodded and looked uncomfortable. “Yes, he’s my father.”
“I see,” Astinak said, putting his pen down and sitting up in his chair. “Collegium trained?”
“I grew up on the grounds of Osterlan, does that count?” Galia asked.
Astinak remained silent, staring at her.
“I did not receive formal training from the Collegium, no. I had basic instruction from my father until I came of age.” Galia said, her voice taking on a tight, formal edge. “After that, I joined the Wayfarers and the School of the Broken Tower in Harper’s Crossing.”
Astinak frowned and gave her a sharp look. “You? The daughter of Garrett Amneris? You’re a hedge wizard?”
“I am the equivalent of a First Circle Magus of the Collegium.” Galia said, not breaking eye contact with Astinak. “As outlined in both the guidelines laid down by the Collegium and the Guild of Wayfarers.”
Astinak’s frown deepened. “And what is it you want?”
“My master sent me to ask permission to access your archives.” Galia said, reaching into one of her many pouches and producing a tightly folded letter sealed with a dark blue blob of wax. “We’re looking for any reports from Waystation Forty-Two.”
“Forty-Two?” Astinak asked, confusion plain on his face. He cracked the seal on the letter and unfolded it. “That place was closed down fifty years ago.”
“Yes, and now that Dwermothrax is dead, the reports from the Wayfarers who frequented that area would be very helpful.” Galia said, providing some context. “For instance, why Dwermothrax left it alone for nearly a century and then one day attacked without warning?”
“Who knows why dragons do anything?” Astinak said, scanning the letter. “But if you want to go poking through a century of reports, be my guest. They’re in the second sub-basement.”
“Thank you, Master Astinak.” Galia said with a slight bow of her head and shoulders.
Astinak grunted and tossed the letter on a pile on one side of his desk. Then he turned to Vash and gave him a deep frown. “You don’t know the first thing about the School of the Broken Tower, do you? You barely know anything about the Wayfarers. Now you come up here and ask for my help.”
Vash glanced at Corwin, but he looked as bewildered as Vash felt. Beside him, Galia stiffened slightly.
Vash thought, and it felt unpleasantly familiar.
“The Broken Tower.” Astinak said, making a gesture to encompass the building they were currently in. “It came out of the Mage Wars. Wizard fighting wizard over secrets, artifacts, books, anything about magic that they could get their hands on. Rogue mages nearly broke the world with greed and arrogance. In the end, it was only the rise of the Silent King in the west that spurred wizards to end their personal conflicts and work together for the greater good.”
Vash wondered while Astinak continued to pontificate.
“After the defeat of the Silent King, the Archmages feared the Mage Wars would begin again. So, they established the Collegium. A place to not only train new mages, but control the use of those ancient secrets.” Astinak said, his lip curling slightly in distaste. This was a sore spot, apparently. “But those wise Archmages forgot wizards loved secrets, and hated having those secrets kept from them. There was a schism in the Collegium. Those who followed the Archmages and adhered to the principle of the Great Mystery they formed the Towers of Osterlan and controlled the Collegium. Those who thought that magic was a gift to be given to the world, well, they formed a ‘Broken Tower’ and partnered with the newly formed Wayfarer’s Guild.”
“That’s a fascinating tale, but I…” Vash began, but Astinak held up a hand to stop him.
“I’m not finished.” Astinak said. “So, the Broken Tower sought knowledge wherever it could. It especially looked for ways to combat the shadow, as they knew they had not defeated it forever. Eventually they approached the elves to share what knowledge they had of the Drae, the Sorcerer Lords, the Silent King. The Broken Tower was, politely, told to go pound sand. The elves do not share their mysteries.”
Vash felt a familiar sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Then, one night, someone broke into the Broken Tower’s greatest storehouse and research center.” Astinak said, steepling his fingers in front of him on the desk. “They took irreplaceable tomes, several great artifacts, and they killed two of our best researchers. Then they set fire to our archives. The notes and journals of hundreds of mages, all destroyed in a few hours. It took us years to figure out who had committed this heinous act against us. In the end, all we found was reference to a cult within the Vanan elves. The , the ‘wearers of the sheltering mask’. Fanatics even among the elves. Commonly known as the Eth Mitaan, or the Masked Ones.”
It was hard for Vash to maintain his gaze with Master Astinak, but he did it anyway.
“No, Hunter of the First Mask, Vash Ballard.” Astinak said, coldly. “I will not be supporting you in the Master’s Council tomorrow.”
