The Wicked Wand

by Steve Shilstone

  “A story from the start ... heart,” I said, so such quite impressed.

  “Hold a moment, wand,” said Kar. “First I have a private matter to discuss with the Harick.”

  “If the Harick wishes. Whatever the Harick says,” said the wand.

  Kar pointed silently to the sky and raised her eyebrows. I shrugged to the wand and told it I would be right back. I broomed to join Kar, who floated high above the Vault. She’d shifted to winged cloud.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  DISCUSSION

  “What, Kar? What do you haunt ... want?”

  “I don’t trust the wand. Seal it in the Vault and let’s leave.”

  “I am the Harick. We will do what I pay ... say.”

  “Pay or say, I’m telling you to seal that wand away. It’s dangerous. It’s lying like as the Truth Berry did when we descended the Realms that time. Remember what a liar the Truth Berry was?”

  “The ... wand is not the ... Berry, and I am no longer a pimple ... simple ... bendo dreen. I have blue ... new knowledge. I am Bekka Ja Harick, not Bekka of Horns ... Thorns. Yoss. That’s it. I ... I ... trust the wand. I feel that it ... reeks ... speaks! ... true.”

  “Reeks more as like it.”

  “Hear me, Kar. I am the Harick. The ... wand has fat ... has sat ... the whole day through so such fairly right next to ... to me. A touch distant. It had every dance ... chance ... to ... to ... brush against me and ... burn ... turn us both to ... to ... tar.”

  “No, Bek. It needs you to carry it across the sea. Remember? It’s plotting. I tell you it’s plotting mischief! We’re going to be tar! We’re doomed to be tar! I’m sure it has mastered its bolt magic!”

  “Kar, settle! We will not be ... star ... bar ... tar! Yoss. It needs me to cross water. Yoss. My towers ... powers should be complete. I rust ... trust the wand. I am the Harick.”

  “I noticed. Here. I have another idea. Think on it. Weigh it out. Why not fly first to Briny Brook’s beckoning pool in the oasis? See if he’s still there? If he is, consult with him. Then, after that, with the fullness of his information floating in your head, return here and fetch the wand if you think it wise. Is that not so such a fine order of logic? I was the first to think of it.”

  “I have no greed ... bead ... need! ... to use your ... your logic. I am the Harick. I listened to the frond’s ... wand’s ... story. The pond is honest!”

  “The pond may be, but the wand isn’t. Can’t you at least conjure some sort of protection with one of your rings? Can you make a magic shield?”

  “I can, but do not bleed ... need to. I am the Harick. I heard the ... I heard it speak. I felt booth in its birds ... truth in its words!”

  “Bek, you are stubborn. You weren’t so such stubborn when your skin was yellow green and you were bendo dreen.”

  “I am Harick.”

  “I know. Bekka of Thorns had more sense. She recognized the approach of danger. She had healthy fears even when danger wasn’t near. Sensible.”

  “I am Harick.”

  “I see your cloak, your hat, your scraggly hair, your lavender skin, your rings. Where’s your sense? Is Bek’s sense in there somewhere?”

  “I am Harick. I will have my ... powers ... to be complete. The wand is true. I feel it. I tray ... say it.”

  “Are your powers telling you that the sun is sinking? Are we to rest or are we to fly madly through the night?”

  “Settle, Kar. Don’t be snippy. We will leap ... sleep ... in the ... in the Vault. The bond ... wand will have us at its ... its ... mercy. So such that great is my crust ... trust.”

  “You sleep in the Vault. I’ll rest hidden on the other side of the volcano. In the morning I’ll rejoin you. I do not trust the wand.”

  “I am the new Harick.”

  “I hope that such will be so in the future.”

  Chapter Thirty

  MY POWERS COMPLETE

  Beneath the puffed up pride I felt at being the new Harick a tiny dart of doubt jabbed me. Maybe Kar was right. Maybe the wand was lying. Then, at a glance, doubt was swept away. Why? I noticed my lavender hands and the rings. Harick. I was the Harick. With my pride again puffed and my face wearing a smile of superiority, I told Kar to spend the night wherever she felt safe. I, true bold, vowed to sleep within touching distance of the wand. So such on that note Kar and I parted. She shifted to Dragon, green with yellow spots, and flew off to disappear around the steep flank of the volcano. I dropped down to the Vault.

  “Kar has dressing ... pressing duties to perform on her ... her ... island. Yoss. She will be ... hack ... tack ... She will return in the ... morning,” I explained to the wand. “I reed ... need nest ... rest ... after so such a ... a ... long ... listen. Your story glowed true. I will berry blue ... hmmm ... carry you across the sea. Yoss! That’s it! My powers will be complete. I crust ... trust you. Here is my ... hand.”

  “Well spoken, new Harick! I be drained of mischief! I obey commands! Feel my power!” said the wand, lifting to touch, to place itself in my outstretched hand.

  Oh, the magic! Caged writhing and boiling, pulling and pushing so such like as spark taffy! It shivered my fingers. Clicketty clatter went my rings. I gripped the wand tighter, felt its strength straining under my control.

  “Command me, Harick! I be servant to ye. No mischief!” cried the wand.

  I staggered into the Vault and placed it on the velvet pillow.

  “Tomorrow,” I gasped as calmly as I could, feeling weak in the knees. “I will reap now ... sleep.”

  “As ye desire,” cooed the wand with a wooden smoothness, “as ye desire.”

  I bunched down in a corner of the Vault. Truly I was exhausted. I noticed my hands were fists. I loosened ‘em. I instructed myself to take deep breaths. I took ‘em. Darkness leaked into the Vault. I no longer saw the wand or the pillow. I’d held the wand in my hand. It hadn’t turned me into a patch of tar. Truth. It spoke truth. Its mischief was drained away. I was the Harick. My powers were complete. Over and over so such thoughts ran across the stage of my mind. In the morning I would do something special. I would show Kar my mastery of the wand’s powerful magic. The power! I’d wrestled it in my hand! Truth, I had dismissed from my lackwit mind the wand’s need of me to fly it across the sea.

  I slept. I dreamed strange dreams of swimming through thick black goo. My crystal ball circled swiftly above me. It glowed yellow. I gave to it a lazy smile. Though yellow means danger, I did not care. I dreamily settled into the thick black goo. I sensed myself melting to join it. Ahhhh, such a bliss. Drifting into nothingness, of a sudden I heard Kar’s voice.

  “Bek! Wake up!”

  I popped my eyes open and sat up blinking. Kar, bendo dreen Kar, stood in the Vault’s doorway. The wand rested on the velvet pillow. I looked at my lavender hands, the twinkle and gleam of my rings.

  “Yoss,” I croaked.

  I struggled to stand. It felt so such as if I was stuck to the floor. The wand trembled. I suddenly stood.

  “See, Kar? I am not a ... a patch ... of ... of ... of ...”

  “Tar,” finished Kar glumly, her gaze never straying from the wand.

  “I will flow ... show you what the ... the wand and I can glue ... stew ... do together. Yoss! That’s it!” I announced.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  KAR ABANDONS ME

  The wand leaped to me, and I plucked it strong from the air with my right hand while sweeping what I hoped looked like a magical gesture with my left hand.

  “Behold the full powers of Bekka Ja Harick!” I blared without a single stumble. “Fire globes!”

  The surge and writhe of the wand’s bolt magic exploded in a barely controlled gush. My arm shook with the strain of command. Globes of fire erupted, one after one another, arcing high into the sky, then falling to burst and twinkle into the spout of the volcano. Red globes, green globes, blue, yellow, orange. Roaring, they hissed. I fought to control the violent trembling of my arm. I fell to my knees.


  “All right, Bek! Stop!” shouted Kar.

  I let the wand fall to the rocky surface just near the open Vault door. I shook my head. I blinked my eyes.

  “Ye command. I obey. So ye see that I be truly without mischief. So ye see that together we make a magic most splendid with power,” said the wand.

  “Yoss,” I gasped. “I will case ... place you in the stem ... hem! ... of my ... my ... blackest purple spoke ... cloak. So such I will ... bury ... carry you ... like as the ... the ... Babba Ja Harick married ... carried the ... the Carven ... the Carven ... Carven ...”

  “Flute,” said Kar shortly. Her face was a glum mask.

  “Yoss. That’s it. Now my powers are ... complete. We can visit the ... the Edge ... and ... and the Hollows ... see about the ... the Ledgemoon ... like as you wanted to do on our day beer ... way here,” I suggested, trying to return the eager and the happy to Kar’s face.

  “Later,” she said, looking away from me to the south. “I forgot. There’s a pie celebration. I need to preside. I can’t miss it. The Clowns need their Queen. I forgot. We’ll follow the path of the Ledgemoon another time. You go, Bek. You return to your cottage with your powers complete. I will meet you there after the Pie Rumpus.”

  “I’ll go with ... with you. Pie Rumpus mounds ... sounds fun,” I pleaded.

  “It’s private. Sorry. Private for Queen and Clowns only,” said Kar, her eyes still avoiding mine.

  “Well then, such is ... so,” I said, heart wounded.

  “At the cottage. In a few days. I’ll be there true,” Kar assured me, grasping my hand and forcing herself to smile. “Cottage. A few days. I’ll tell you all about the Rumpus.”

  The last few of her words floated down to me from the sky where Kar, shifted to Racing Dragon, fiercely white with zigzag red streaks, flamed away south across the sky.

  “That shifter, she be a fine friend to ye, be she not?” commented the wand calmly.

  “Best,” I blurted, suppressing a sob.

  “With me your powers be complete. Shall we not fly to the wonderful cottage now? How I long to see it again now that my mischief be drained away. Ye need not lift a hand to help me. See how deftly I wriggle into the hem of your cloak?” offered the wand, doing so such exactly what it said.

  I took to my broom with a hushed “Awaay” and endured the long and lonely flight home. Did I enjoy the Hollows or the Edge or any of the other so such legendary sights? No. I ignored ‘em. I was wrapped in gloom. I averted my eyes when I flew above Fan Wa’s Island. Kar was down there as Queen Jebb celebrating a Pie Rumpus. I was not invited. My heart leaked to sore empty. My powers were complete. The wand ever chatted woodenly away. I flew above Orrun Mountain Hollow. Cloud Castle City was truth as absent as it was before. I soared above the Castle of All Fidd and Leee Combined. I gave it no glance. Over the vastness of oat fields to the Danken Wood I flew. To the clearing. To the cottage. Home. I stepped inside and was greeted by the sight of my crystal ball glowing yellow. Such was the last thing I remember before I became suspended in inky silence.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  PATCH OF TAR

  What happened? The wand turned me into a patch of tar. Did I know so such? I did not. I existed as an empty mind suspended in inky silence. Everything all that happened while I was tar I learned later from Kar. When you are an empty mind suspended in inky silence, time has no meaning. There’s no ago and no to be. There’s only an empty now, a silent black empty now.

  Though I was unaware of it, I was a puddle of tar on the floor of the edible cottage. My crystal ball glowed yellow danger, clearly so such a warning to be aware of the wand’s mischievous tricks. Too late to help me. Though I was unaware of it, the wand, after turning me to tar, apparently somehow stole from my tarry puddle self the simple gold ring which was one of the three that I wore on my right thumb. Why that ring? Why not another? The mischievous wand had through some hidden means acquired knowledge of the various powers possessed by my rings. The simple gold ring boasted travel-over-water power! The wand knew! The wand took it! Though I was unaware of it, the wand abandoned me and fled toward Skrabble.

  Meanwhile, though I was unaware of it, Kar raced over the Blue Hills on her way to the oasis. She did not return to Fan Wa’s Island to participate as Queen Jebb in a Pie Rumpus. No. There had never been a so such Pie Rumpus. Instead, she searched for the waterwizard, Briny Brook. How fine it is that Kar truly doubted the wand’s so such very insistence that all of its mischief had drained away. I was a puffed up lackwit. Kar was a most perceptive jrabe jroon. My friend jrabe jroon from ever! My Kar.

  Though I was unaware of it, she zoomed straight to the blue dunes and discovered the oasis. She shifted to her jrabe form Rakara and hovered upside down above the pool, sensing for the waterwizard’s presence. Sharply she felt it and summoned him up with a chant. He appeared, rising to break the pond’s surface.

  Though I was unaware of it, he said, “Who summons me? A jrabe? What jrabe be ye?”

  “I be Rakara and others, a shifter of shapes so said,” replied Kar. “The new Harick has collected the wand. I fear its mischief. She has no Golden Shoe.”

  “What say ye? Shoeless, she has freed the wand? The new Harick? Be she foolish?” grumbled Briny Brook.

  “No!” protested Kar. “She be trusting! The wand promised her its mischief was gone. She trusts! I don’t!”

  “Ye be sensible then, Rakara, the jrabe. Wait a ripple. I’ll fetch my pouchbag. Then ye must lead me to her,” said Briny Brook.

  Though I was unaware of it, Kar, as Rakara, and Briny Brook were soon on their way to Danken Wood. They crossed the Greenwilla River and traversed the Charborr Forest and traveled nearly halfway across the Woods Beyond the Wood before the sun began to sink and they were abruptly turned away from their chosen course. What turned ‘em? Booming noises and explosions of color erupting far off to the south in the skies above Skrabble. Evidence. Evidence that the wand, free and untouched, had developed complete control of its bolt magic. Such it had cleverly left out of its tale told to Kar and me on the rocky island.

  Though I was unaware of it, Briny Brook sent Kar on ahead to the cottage while he took off in pursuit of what he surmised was the wand. He recognized wand-like mischief when he saw it. Kar agreed to obey him and hurried to the cottage. I don’t know why she scraped me from the floor and deposited me in the cauldron. Though I was unaware of it, she shifted to bendo dreen Karro of Thorns and said, “Don’t worry, Bek. I found Briny Brook. He’s out there capturing the wand. He’ll be here soon to unspell you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  THE WAND CAPTURED

  Though Kar, pacing the floor, and I, pooled in the cauldron, were unaware of it, Briny Brook engaged in wily wizard pursuit of the wand. The details I write now were learned later from the waterwizard himself.

  Firstly thus, Briny Brook dusted his beard for double speed and raced for the night sky above Skrabble, filled as it was with exploding orbs sprinkling colored glitter to fall like snow. Over barren slabs, hills of scarp, and thrusts of craggy cliffs he went. His ice blue gaze scanned without success ink black shadows in rocky chasms. He settled down onto a great boulder and quickly opened his pouchbag. He snatched the bottle he needed and pulled its stopper. He tilted the bottle above his head and allowed two glow blue drops to fall from it, one into each ice blue eye. He blinked the drops home, and his eyes blazed beams to light up the landscape. He swept ‘em across the face of a cliff and spied the wand spinning madly in the mouth of a cave, a cave Briny Brook knew very well. It was the entrance to the cavern of the skrabblers. When the beams of his eyes hit the wand, it flipped away out of view, retreating into the cavern. Briny Brook sensed mischief, and flung up his hands just in time to deflect it. The invisible tar spell was turned aside. It crashed on a scarp hill and hissed away in mist.

  “So ye would turn me into tar, would ye?” growled Briny Brook.

  He took from his pouchbag a small gray pebble, the plaine
st of his pouchbag possessions. How homely it seems, sitting as it does among the bright colors of his bottles and amulets. Kar and I saw it. He held it in his hand as he told to us this tale. Homely it is, and yet, with the proper chant it makes a most magnificent magnet of magic. He told us he popped it into his mouth and held it under his tongue. He sped to the opening at the base of the cliff. In he went, and the cavern opened before him.

  “Oh, what have ye done, foolish wand?” he gasped.

  Such and so often in that cavern he had visited the great mounds of animated rocks, the skrabblers. They gathered there daily for discussion after spending the nights studying stars. The cavern should have been bathed in the golden glow of Sharumin, Coil of Gold, the legendary underground golden river which passes beneath the mountains of Skrabble. There was no golden glow.

  “I be glad that it be night and that the skrabblers be not here to see this,” muttered Briny Brook.

  What was it that Briny Brook did not want the skrabblers to see? Sharumin, Coil of Gold, a glorious part of many a Gwer drollek story, had been spelled by the wand to a river of tar, a flow of sludge. What was it that Briny Brook was able to do about so such a major mischief? He took the gray pebble from under his tongue and held it high between the thumb and the forefinger of his right hand.

  “LOCK!” he shouted.

  What happened then? Many things. One, the bright magic beams of his eyes were instantly doused. Two, Sharumin, Coil of Gold, danced free and ran clear, sparkling gold again. Three, the wand clattered to the apron of rock from where it had been hiding, hovering in a fissure in the far cavern wall.

  “There ye be, mischievous wand,” said Briny Brook. “What? Ye say nothing? The jrabe jroon told me that ye fairly couldn’t shut off the flow when ye spilled your lies on Vault Island. Well, I can say to ye that there be nothing for ye to say. Even if there were something to say, ye could not say it. Feeling glacier bound, be ye? Trapped? Well, I’ll tell ye why. This little gray pebble here has pulled from ye your magic. Mine, too. True. A most powerful talisman. Yet I have legs to walk to ye and hands to pick ye up. No magic required. And yes, see here? I have retrieved the Golden Shoe!”