Chapter 20

“He was in his bedclothes?” Adana exclaimed. “I would have died on the spot.”

“He was sober,” Zuri said with a shrug. “He is a Governor after all, full of bloodthirsty politics, expert on reprisals, and practitioner of subterfuge. I didn’t even have to resort to personal bribes, such as healing his liver. What is it that famous puppet of the king’s jester always said? Egad!”

“I used to love those puppet shows,” Adana said wistfully. “A traveling company hasn’t been seen here in years. Are you going to do something about that as well, Mr. Miracle Worker?”

“Not directly, to be serious for a moment,” Zuri said, twirling the amber liquid in his short glass. “Now that I’ve spoken with the Governor, I believe you will see an increase in customers for your establishment. If I were you, I would consider building out the bar and offering some of these local brandies and the like. Maybe even have bottles for sale.”

“You know locals who are willing to sell to the likes of me?”

“The day is still early, and we have not paid enough attention to the other things between a man and a woman. The day is young. Would you fancy a day trip to a nearby homestead?”

“What other things?” Adana said with a raised eyebrow.

“Long conversations about this and that,” Zuri said with a hint of a smile. “With our clothes on and good boots.”

Fifteen minutes later, Zuri led Adana and her bodyguard out the west side of the city to a track south of the government road to Premia. They walked twenty minutes down the trail before encountering the first homestead. Zuri called out a greeting and an older couple appeared. Zuri blessed their fields. After a brief conversation and directions while they stood on the trail, Zuri led his charges to another homestead down an even narrower path. After the blessing, the husband and wife sat with Adana negotiating over casks while Zuri played with the three children. Having learned their letters and their numbers, they wanted to show off to their guests what they knew.

Two homesteads further south, Adana again sat with an older woman and her two grandsons as they discussed casks and tuns and barrels. The woman insisted on serving them her fresh flatbread and her seasoned bean paste. Adana was delighted with the lunch, while Zuri drank long draughts of water to help get down the paste. After another conversation about the merits and techniques of bean paste, Zuri led Adana and her bodyguard back to the city.

As they emerged into the first blocks of the western edge of the city, Adana expressed disbelief that such riches had been near and yet she had not known. She peppered Zuri with more questions of who and how to get more all the way back to the inn.

Zuri ate by himself that night but did have a familiar bed companion. In the morning, he made his goodbyes before hoisting his pack and staff. The temple was empty. Taking his seat in the chair, Zuri called forth the Ahsa and searched for his destination eastward. Several choices presented themselves, but only one felt like Covanera. He tapped the globe and stick.

“This must be Greenvale,” Zuri said as he rose from the seat. The opulence of the room was stunning with tapestries on the walls and long cushions on the benches in the congregation while the chairs in front had arms and cushions. The Chayre sat on a raised platform behind a wooden railing of smooth golden wood. He let out a long low whistle.

“Who goes there?” yelled a robed figure running into the room. “This is the holy temple, and no one is allowed in here without permission.”

“Well, then,” Zuri said in his soft voice. “I had best ask for permission.”

The figure ran up to the front and onto the pulpit. “Who are you? Wait. I know you.”

Zuri waited a moment. “Hello, Emil. I passed through Covanera two years ago, I think. You gave me enough coin to buy a bed and a bed warmer for the night. I never got to thank you for your small kindness.”

“Zuri. Your name is Zuri, and you were banished from the start,” Emil said. “How did you get in here?”

“How is not relevant at the moment,” Zuri said with a sad smile. “Did you get a promotion from the West Temple?”

“No,” Emil said, violently shaking his head. “The Gura-sho and my Senior decided someone had to stay behind and man the temple. All the rest of the lot went to Lewa Ilu for the Centennial Convocation.”

“There is no such thing as a Centennial Convocation, Emil. Surely your Gura-sho and your senior knew that little fact.”

“They are confused and concerned; I’ll give you that. The order was signed by the Patriarch, the Provost of the Seminary, and the elder Gura in Lewa Ilu though.”

“Have they reached the Capital yet?” Zuri asked.

“Probably another week, if there is not an issue changing out horses,” Emil said. “The Capital is far. Still, what are you doing here? Begging for another night’s stay?”

“Mind your manners, Emil,” Zuri said. “I’m not the naïf you met a couple of years ago. In fact, I’m no longer a Gura, but something much, much more. Go ahead and examine my aura.”

“Augh, the brightness hurts my eyes,” Emil said. “What are you?”

“Pardon the maudlin nature of my response, but I am the proof of your worst doubts about your chosen profession when you lay awake at night next to your lovely wife. I am the proof that almost everything they taught us was fake and what was not fake, the Gura did not have the slightest inkling as to why.”

“What?”

“The rite of transformation is true, and it is the most ancient rite of the tradition, Emil. The arcane dance that everyone but me ridiculed, it is absolutely fundamental. Too bad most of the steps have been forgotten. Everything else they taught is bullshit.”

“How? What? Why? You’re insane; you’ve taken a turn into delusion.”

“How did I get into this room, Emil? I did not sneak in through the constables, the locked gates, and the barred doors.”

“I don’t know, but there is a rational explanation.”

Zuri laughed. “There is no rational explanation in the Gura world. There is a reasonable one, but it belongs to the Ghura.”

“Ghura?”

“I found our ancestors, Emil, or rather, I found our origins,” Zuri said. “It took me about a year to gain First Mastery of the Ghura and I am now First Master Zuri. Since you are here, I’m announcing to you first that the time of the Gura is ending and the epoch of the Ghura is returning.”

“Are you taking drugs? You’re telling me this out of the goodness of your heart?” Emil said with his arms crossed.

“I am repaying a kindness with a kindness. You want proof, as any educated man would.” Zuri extending his staff to the man. “Take hold of the staff; it does not matter where you grab it.”

Reluctantly, Emil extending his arm and grasped the staff. Zuri ignited the staff with Ahsa, watching its golden glow suffice the length of it. Emil went stiff immediately as he felt the power course through his body. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing came forth.

“You passed the rite of transformation, Gura. Now you feel the power you were transformed to control. Hold it. Tame it.”

“I, I can’t,” Emil said, finally wresting his hand from the staff. “My entire body jangles with pain. What was that?”

“If you cannot control it, there is no reason to burden you with the information,” Zuri said, his disappointment rising. “You can see the auras of every living creature and that will have to suffice.”

“I don’t think the gura-sho Gura-sho could manage that staff,” Emil said.

“Yeah, political expertise is not a substitute,” Zuri said. “The staff probably would have killed him in his arrogance. His pride probably wouldn’t let him drop it.”