Staff of Shigmar: Chapter 15, Part 6

7 July 2026

Last week, in the ongoing serialization of the second book of our epic tale, Staff of Shigmar, we met the most ancient aperu, father of all aperum, Plati, and learned his sad story. This week, we enter the citadel of air, meet the rulers of this realm, and finally enter Shigmar’s actual tomb. . . . (13 July 2015) We remind all readers that this book, Staff of Shigmar, as also the first book, is free for download from Smashwords! Glossary links: Book 2, Book 1

Chapter 15, Part 6

“We know the story told by the maghem,” Felorno noted, “but whether it contains the truth, only Platti knows, and he has not spoken to anyone since the beginning.” Felorno shook his head and led them to the main door into the audience chamber. He stepped through the door, indicating they follow. “My Lord Wethkuro, my Lady Nefora,” his voice suddenly boomed and echoed in the huge hall, “I present the chosen of the One: the green kailu, Master Klaybear, the white maghi, Master Thalamar, son of Kalamar, the klitodweri, Master Telvor, and the kortexi, Sir Blakstar eli kerdu ghebi. They have entered through the proper door, showing the token prophesied; they come to beg for access to the tomb of Shigmar the Great, first and foremost, until now, of all kailum.” He named them as each entered the hall, bowing to the two great thrones at the front of the hall.

“We welcome them into our presence,” boomed the voice of the largest of the potiethro, sitting on one of the thrones at the head of the hall. He was tall, over twenty-five feet, dark gray hair and beard, crowned with lightning. Across his knees lay the storm scepter. On his left sat his lady, greatest of the morosku, shorter than Wethkuro by the height of a tall man, white skin, wispy white hair.

“We should note, my lord,” Nefora said as Felorno led them forward, “that only half of the chosen are here.”

“Of course, my lady,” Felorno said in an aside, “but it would not have been as impressive had I introduced them as ‘half’ the chosen,” he croaked sarcastically.

Nefora smiled; Wethkuro laughed, a sound like thunder that shook the hall. “Well-answered,” he said in an aside to Felorno, who smiled back at him.

Nefora rolled her eyes. “I had so wanted to meet your mate, Klaybear, and the chosen mate of your older brother, along with the mates of the others, who will come in time, but, sadly, only the four of you were allowed to approach us.”

The companions exchanged looks at her words and bowed to Nefora. “We are sorry, my lady,” Klaybear said, “that they could not come with us. My wife is . . . ,” he went on, thinking of the fact that Klare had lost most of her family.

Wethkuro completed his thought. “Your mate is in trouble,” he said.

Klaybear looked up, eyes wide. “In trouble?” he asked. “We left her in the care of my twin brother, watching over her injured mother and sister.”

“Both have died,” Nefora said softly, a hint of emotion in her voice, “and she is in grave peril.”

“As grave a peril,” Wethkuro added in hushed tones, “as is the city of Shigmar.”

“I must go to her,” Klaybear said, looking around for a way out.

“Do not worry,” Wethkuro said, “you will arrive in time, but you must first enter the tomb, where you will find the key you have sought.”

“Although the laws of hospitality dictate that we should take care of your needs and allow you to rest,” Nefora went on, “we must not detain you further, but allow you to enter the final resting place of Shigmar.”

Wethkuro raised the storm scepter and their two thrones moved aside, turning to face each other and the ornately carved door that had been hidden behind them. “You may approach the entrance,” he said, waving them forward. “You should possess the necessary key.”

They stepped forward, and Blakstar started to draw his sword but stopped when they saw, not the vertical slot, but a regular keyhole that looked vaguely familiar. The kortexi grabbed Tevvy’s arm. “The key,” he hissed, “do you still have the key?”

Tevvy looked up at Blakstar, puzzled. “What key?”

“The one I gave you to open the pedestal, back in Kalbant.”

“Oh,” Tevvy exclaimed, “that one!” He searched through one of his belt pouches, looking for the key. “You said I could have it,” he said defensively, “if it opened the pedestal.”

“As long as you didn’t lose it,” Blakstar replied, “or give it away.”

“I’m not a fool, wethi,” Tevvy retorted, pulling his arm from the pouch and tapping his pockets, digging in his cloak and the other pouches on his belt.

“You haven’t lost it,” Blakstar asked, “have you?”

“Of course not,” Tevvy retorted, “I just need to locate the place where I stowed it, to keep it safe,” he said apologetically.

“It was on a chain,” Blakstar hissed through clenched teeth, “did you hang it around your neck?”

“Of course,” Tevvy snapped, forcing a laugh, “it’s around my neck.” He stuck one hand into his shirt and pulled out the ancient key. “See, I told you I had it.” He inserted the ancient key, turned it, and heard the lock click. He pushed the door open.

“And what do you call walking into the bright light on a snow plain?” Blakstar muttered to himself.

Blakstar entered the doorway after Tevvy, followed by Klaybear and Thal. The door slid shut of its own accord; the lock clunked loudly, sealing them inside the tomb.

Come back Thursday when we will return to the battle and fortunes of the seklesi army, on its way to defend Shigmar, and see the new threat our chosen heroes, Marilee and Delgart, now must face. Until then, get a full ebook copy from Smashwords for free! If you prefer print, purchase your copy from the link provided. Good reading!