Chapter 32 | PoV: Aisha
Aisha turned the page.
Her stomach dropped, eyes widening and mouth dropping. How could this be!? The book said the spell would be on the next page.
She turned the page back and tried to see if maybe it was stuck together.
It was not.
She returned to that new page, or rather, where a page should be but wasn't. It had been completely torn out, only shreds of paper left at the binding. That spell . . . Aisha wanted that spell . . .
Instead was a little note tucked into the binding.
Aisha picked it up and read it.
Looks like someone beat us to this book first. Someone who did not want this spell to be known or cast. For if they did, then we wouldn't be in this mess any longer. So, I truly am sorry, but I hope with your extravagant knowledge that you can piece something from this book.
. . . No pressure.
Aisha did not know who it was addressed to or from whom. Who was the “we?”
Was this note written by the librarian to Aisha, or by someone else for someone else?
Aisha studied the note. It seemed . . . New?
Yet, something made no sense. How would the librarian have known Aisha was coming? When did she have time to prepare this book and note?
Maybe during Aisha's tour around campus? That would give the librarian time, maybe. If she knew Aisha and her essays, and maybe a bit more of the knowledge that Aisha retained. Then it would be a matter of giving this book to her.
. . . Aisha could just look for the librarian.
Aisha closed the book, picked it up, and stood.
She got away from the table, pushed in her chair, and wandered around the library.
It wasn't that big. In fact, it was impossible to get lost in or hide.
Students were still here, whispering to each other or reading.
The librarian was not at her desk at the back of the room.
After scouring the first floor, Aisha went up the stairs to the second. The stairs looked like increasingly tall pieces of stone, evenly cut and melded together and to the floor through thermal magic.
The second floor was actually not smaller than the first. While it appeared to be just a ringed balcony from the first, it extended further out on all sides than the first, as if the upper half of the cavern was larger than the bottom.
Aisha wandered this for a bit. Still, no sign of the librarian.
She headed back to the first floor and approached the nearest group of students.
“Excuse me,” she said. “Have any of you seen the librarian?”
Two of them shook their heads without looking up. The other glanced up at her, but still only shook.
“Ah, thanks.”
Two of the students nodded.
Not a single other word was exchanged between any of them.
Aisha left back to where she had been reading.
Of course she couldn't find the librarian. That would be too easy. Maybe she was elsewhere. She could be eating lunch or on some other errand. Being an aquatic mage would mean being extremely valuable, maybe her free water services were needed somewhere . . .
How dare the librarian flirt with Aisha just to disappear!?
Whatever. It did not really matter anyway.
Aisha found the desk she had been at and slid into her seat.
Now . . . Concerning the contents of the book. It was a history and analysis of the event a hundred and seventy years ago.
The one that kind of covered the world in a never-ending storm and heat.
Apparently, it was caused by a bunch of mages. They had been casting their spells either to end a powerful enemy or because they wanted to end the world. This had been written a generation or two after the events, and the reason behind had already been lost to time.
Thermal mages had caused the world to heat up. Aeolian mages had caused the winds to slice across civilization.
Yet. All magic like this must have an end.
There was no way these mages could maintain spells for a hundred and seventy years while dead.
Unless time had been messed with as well. Someone or someones had stretched the time of the spells into, well, forever.
The scholars did not seem to know when it would end.
However . . . A spell from the temporal class of mages could speed up the residue of the tempest spells enough to get it to stop. A mage that knew how to cancel the spells would work too, but no such person existed, or had existed for a while leading up to the calamity.
A mage . . . like Aisha, perhaps.
The weight crashed down on her. She could save the world.
Potentially.
Maybe.
If she knew that spell inside the book.
A spell which was, conveniently, missing!
It also made Aisha wonder why this had not been tried a hundred years ago or whenever this was written. Surely temporal mages existed back then and could have cast the spell before this page was ripped out.
There must have been more lore here.
Whatever, it did not matter now. Aisha certainly would not be able to figure it out. Not with what was in this book.
Speaking of the book, could she trust it and its methods? Could she trust the librarian?
Aisha did not really know where to go on the whole theory part of it.
Could she be able to craft the missing spell? Where would she even begin?
A rapid time bubble? . . . Something that dispersed?
Aisha thought back to . . .
. . . to that time, two days ago, now. The time when she had snapped the necks of those two mages.
Oh no . . . She had really done that . . .
Um. During that time—no, after it.
She had cast a spell . . .
Hasn't she?
She had been able to use [Temporal Sundering] which froze time and gave her that extra powerful mana-sense. She had felt the temporal mana all around her.
As if she could manipulate it then. As if all of time bowed to her.
She had paired it with something . . . To get through the tempest. To escape it and get back into the safety of the caravan and the bubbles from Fazl and the thermal mage.
Something she did not know how she knew.
What was it? How had it worked? Was it important?
It slipped from her mind.
Maybe if she used [Temporal Sundering] again it would come back to her? Should she try? Right now, maybe?
It had to have a cost, though. One she didn't understand and couldn't negate like her innate ability.
What was it? Her theories hadn't covered that . . .
Ugh . . .
Maybe she already had the key with [Temporal Sundering]. She just needed to find the door. Or the key hole. Or . . . Whatever, stupid metaphor that did not need to be extended beyond the key.
Someone came running up to Aisha's table. Aisha turned around to look.
It was Mutamid, panting and gasping for breath, hands on his knees.
Aisha raised an eyebrow. “Mutamid?”
“That's . . . me!” Mutamid took a deep breath. “They have me . . . playing courier . . . right now, apparently.”
He was really out of breath. Had he run around the whole campus looking for Aisha? Or maybe doing other courier tasks as well? Poor Mutamid.
“Am I needed somewhere?”
Mutamid nodded. “Some people came . . . from above. They're saying Rafiq sent . . . there is a message from Rafiq.”
Aisha blinked at that, immediately. “How did he even know where I went?”
She had only shown the missive. It never said anything about where “Hope” was. How had he found it? She had not even known where it was. Rafiq did have more resources than her, she guessed. Why would he fetch her from all the way over here, though? Why did he need to summon her, specifically?
Mutamid shrugged. “It's urgent. That's all I know.”
“Urgent? From Rafiq?”
That had happened before, when the guards had been gathered for an interview . . . Hmm . . . Things were getting heated in Glorestra. Yet, she also had a target on her back. Why summon her back? Things must have been really terrible . . . Or . . .
“Yeah,” Mutamid said. “Again—I don't know. You'll have to . . . ask them.”
Aisha closed her book again and picked it up. Did she take it with her? Did she tell the librarian she'd be checking it out?
Whatever.
She stood and nodded to Mutamid. It was worth checking out, at least. She took off down the halls with her book, placing it in her satchel.
☆ ☆ ☆
Aisha stepped out of the cave and into the light. It seared her eyes and blinded her before she adjusted. Even underneath a perpetual cloud of dust and sand, the two suns shone through brightly.
There, the caravan she had arrived on still lingered. The familiar four wagons. The two mages and the wayfinder were still there, eating lunch together on the seat of the first wagon.
To the right, four camels stood, not attached to any sort of wagon. Instead, saddles rested on their backs, with three individuals sitting atop. One of each mage. One camel was free.
Aisha walked up to them, not in a particular hurry.
“Aisha Of-Jinan,” the aeolian mage bowed. His hood was down, revealing short, curly brown hair. He had a lighter skin than most, but still in tan territory.
“You are? . . .”
“Ah!” The aeolian mage exclaimed, blue eyes briefly wide. “Where are my manners? I am Kais Of-Sabah. I am contracted as a Glorestrian courier.”
He produced a writ and held it out for Aisha.
She stepped up to him and took it. After a studious search she confirmed it was legitimate.
She handed it back to Kais. He took it back, folded it, and dropped it into a satchel at his side.
“Why does Rafiq need me so urgently?”
Kais exchanged a glance with the thermal mage on the camel next to him.
“. . . Five temporal mages have been murdered today, as of us leaving.”
What? Temporal mages were being murdered? A dozen thoughts ran through Aisha's head.
“Why? How?” Aisha asked.
“Targeted murder, it looks like. The murderer is framing you.”
Aisha blinked. She had to think about this for a minute. Maybe even two. Or ten.
So . . . So . . .
“Let me get this straight,” Aisha lifted her free hand to her forehead. “Temporal mages are being murdered. I am out here, safe, where no one should know where I am. I am not even in the city, as evident, and yet I am being framed? . . .”
Kais nodded.
“So . . . So Rafiq wants me to leave this relative safety, to go back to Glorestra, where it is dangerous for me? . . .”
“Yes. He thinks if you go back, you can clear your name.”
Aisha tilted her head. She rubbed her forehead some more. This and the book was giving her a great headache. A nice, painful throb at the fore of her skull.
If she showed up . . . Where people could see her . . . The murder could just, well, stop. How could she clear her name, exactly? Had no one seen this murderer? Did they look like Aisha?
“How am I being framed? Has anyone seen the murderer? I'm guessing not.”
“No one has seen this murderer, only the corpses. Your name is always spelled out in blood.”
“Awesome,” Aisha said sarcastically. “Convenient. I'm being turned into an invisible serial killer? What are their wounds?”
“A dagger to the neck.”
“I punch people.”
Kais blinked. “I don't think that really matters.”
“I suppose not.”
“So, do you accept Rafiq's notice?”
Uh, no. Sorry, Rafiq's judgment on this one is terrible.
“Give me a minute to think,” Aisha said instead.
She couldn't go, right? What would clear up if she went? It seemed like she would just wander right into the path of the killer. Also the Prince, and whoever else wanted her dead.
She couldn't go back. She was safe here.
Could she go there and find and kill the murderer? To prove her innocence?
No one has seen the murderer. Don't think you will be able to. Six different types of mages. What were the chances this was a seventh? Why were they all re-emerging now?
How much had Rafiq told the couriers, and how much was he waiting to tell Aisha personally?
Temporal mages were dying.
She was stronger.
What if she could put an end to this?
She kind of wanted to investigate the Prince, too. What was he doing? Could she stop him too?
Hmm . . .
What about the tempest? Could she end it?
“Alright,” Aisha said.
“You're coming?” Kais asked.
“Yes, but not with you. I'll leave with this caravan.” Aisha gestured to the wagons.
Kais didn't spare it a glance. “We will be much faster.”
Aisha waved her hand in dismissal. “No. They will have me. We will catch up.”
Kais gave her a perplexed expression, as if she miscalculated. He shrugged. “That's fine. Let's go.”
He turned his camel around and signaled to the others.
They headed back into the tempest.