Normally, Aldwyn paid little attention to Gilbert’s paranoia, but there was something about the way the reptilian familiar was licking its lips that made him think that perhaps frog wouldn’t be the only thing on the snake’s menu if it got hungry.
“It’s just over this next rise,” Feynam called out to the coachman who held the reins of the four horses.
The carriage pulled to a stop, and Dalton nudged Marianne awake. She looked at him with a shy smile, then spotted some drool left behind on his shoulder and quickly wiped it away.
“I don’t normally drool in my sleep,” said Marianne, blushing.
“It must be a side effect of Paksahara’s spell,” said Dalton.
Aldwyn had seen these two playfully tease each other before, and he was coming to learn that this was how young boys and girls showed affection.
Sorceress Edna pushed her way out of the carriage first, which was no surprise, since she had complained most of the way about feeling cartsick from the bumpy ride. The others followed, Gilbert making very sure to keep his distance from Feynam’s serpent as he hopped down to the ground.
They all walked from the road to the top of a small hill, where a large grey stone jutted out from the green. It was polished smooth and stamped with a circle with eight lines jutting out from it. Embedded in the ground beyond it was the sunken imprint of what looked like a long-disappeared castle. The massive indentation had four long sides and burrowed several feet deep into the earth. The architectural fossil had now been filled in with the same grass that covered the hillsides.
“This is the cornerstone of the elusive Shifting Fortress,” said Feynam, gesturing to the grey obelisk with his bony hand. “It was left behind as a monument to remind all where the grand tower first stood.”
“And you believe the spirit of Agorus resides here?” asked Loranella.
“Every departed soul has a gateway to the Tomorrowlife,” explained Feynam, “a place of profound importance to them. I am confident this is that place for the mighty architect of the impossible.”
Skylar fluttered from Dalton’s shoulder to the base of the stone. She unrolled the scroll at her feet, then grasped a talonful of silver powder from her satchel.
“Silver dust is a weak substitute for obsidian,” said Feynam. “You’ll be lucky to hold this spell long enough to get any answers at all.”
Skylar seemed undaunted and ignored the elder’s words. She closed her eyes, concentrated, and then started her incantation.
“Agorus, hear my call and speak once more,” she chanted to the sky. She tossed the powder into the air and intoned: “Mortis communicatum!”
Nothing happened for so long that Aldwyn thought Skylar’s spell must have been unsuccessful. But then a bluish mist began to form in the air and curl round the stone. It grew more and more solid, and Aldwyn saw a faintly glowing figure emerge from it. As the spirit became more concrete, Aldwyn was taken aback: what had taken shape in front of him was not a man, but – a beaver!
“I knew it,” said Feynam. “There is no way a bird could cast such a powerful spell!”
“I’m sorry,” said Skylar to the four-legged creature. “I was trying to commune with someone else.”
The beaver looked at her, exasperated.
“You mean to tell me you’ve woken me for nothing?” he said. “I was in the middle of the most peaceful sleep.”
“Perhaps you can still help. Is there a man who lingers by this stone in the Tomorrowlife?” asked Skylar. “A famed architect who goes by the name Agorus.”
“Now you’ve got me confused,” said the beaver. “Are you looking for a man or for Agorus?”
“They’re one and the same,” said Feynam, growing impatient.
“Then you’re out of luck,” replied the beaver. “It’s a shame too. If you had been here looking for a beaver named Agorus, you would have found him.”
The group stared back at him in disbelief. He smiled and gave a little wave.
“You are the famed architect Agorus?” asked Feynam.
Aldwyn had known at once that it was true, recognising that yet again they had made a wrong, very human, assumption – that man was responsible for the greatness of Vastia’s past rather than animals.
“You’re a beaver,” exclaimed a startled Gilbert, giving voice to the surprise that could be read on everybody’s face.
“Well, I should hope so,” said Agorus. “That’s how I left this life, and that’s how I’ve stayed. Although if reincarnation were a possibility, I always wondered what it would be like to come back as a gazelle – a handsome, elegant creature indeed. Now tell me, blue bird, how many years have passed since the Turn? Two, three?”
“A little over four thousand,” said Skylar.
“Huh. Time goes fast in the Tomorrowlife. It seems like just yesterday I was overseeing the team of Farsand lifting-spiders who built the Shifting Fortress. I’m sure you noticed their insignia carved into the stone.” Agorus gestured to the circle on the cornerstone with the eight lines sticking out of it. “Amazing creatures. Ten times the size of regular spiders, with webbing strong enough to carry a boulder. But none of it would have been possible without my meticulous design. And the Fortress – what a miracle of engineering it was, if I do say so myself! Walls as strong as steel, a casting tower that could spread magic from Liveod’s Canyon to the southern tip of the ever-flowing Enaj, and a teleportation globe buried into the glass floor, randomly spinning so the Fortress never appeared in the same place twice, making it impossible to ever lay siege to it.”
“We come with a question in dire need of an answer,” interrupted Skylar. “Is there another way to summon the Shifting Fortress beside the wooden bracelet?”
“Wooden bracelet?” asked Agorus. “I’m not sure what a wooden bracelet has to do with the Shifting Fortress.”
“My bracelet,” said Queen Loranella. “It was a relic possessed by my great-grandfather, the king. I retrieved it from the Sunken Palace during the Dead Army Uprising.”
“You speak of a history I am unaware of. Back in my day, the Shifting Fortress was not summoned by some wooden trinket. There was meant to be only one way to bring forth the mighty tower. Seek the Crown of the Snow Leopard! That is how the First Phylum intended it.”
“Please, slow down,” said Skylar. “First Phylum, Crown of the Snow Leopard… knowledge of these things has been lost to time.”
“The First Phylum are the seven tribes that ruled over Vastia,” said Agorus with an exasperated sigh. Suddenly, his faint glow began to disappear. “The strongest and most powerful wizards of the…”
“Wait, don’t go,” pleaded Skylar.
But it was too late. The mist pulled Agorus away. His voice trailed off as his form dissipated into the Tomorrowlife once more.
“I’m afraid your components were too weak to hold the spell,” said Feynam.
Aldwyn thought there was no need for the elder to rub it in – he could see that Skylar was disappointed in herself by the way her wings slouched and her beak hung down.
“But it was enough time to get a clue,” said Queen Loranella. “The Crown of the Snow Leopard,” she repeated aloud. “If we find this magical item, perhaps the tide can still be turned.”
“In all my years of study, I have never heard of such a crown,” said Sorceress Edna. “And my memory is like that of a steel trap. Nothing escapes it.”
Though Skylar had succeeded in contacting Agorus, they were left with