by M. L. Forman
“Master Taylor is wise,” said Virgil. “We will travel with you to the oracle. If, after your visit, you wish to go north to Lord Talbot, we will be happy to accompany you there. If you wish to go some other way, then we will do all that we can for you.”
“You are most kind,” said Rallian, bowing.
With their plans made, Dain began cooking their midday meal. Alex took a seat beside Skeld, intending to ask him what stories he’d been telling. He didn’t get a chance because the rest of the group started asking him questions about his first adventure as soon as he sat down. As it turned out, Skeld had told the majority of the story but had left out a great many details. Alex found himself retelling the story almost from the beginning.
When it was almost time for their evening meal, Alex had only gotten as far as the bandit attack that he and his friends had faced in Vargland. He was starting to lose his voice and said he would have to finish the story another time. Normally, it wouldn’t have taken so long to tell the story, but everybody kept interrupting and asking him questions.
“You have met elves, then?” Rallian questioned, a look of wonder on his face. “They are real and live in other lands?”
“Yes,” said Alex. “Are there no elves in Nezza?”
“We only have stories of them,” said Rallian. “But like many things here, they are stories for children. They say the elves live in the mountains of the far north and in the far west, beyond the desert. I’ve always hoped the stories were true, but I’ve never heard of anyone seeing an elf in Nezza.”
“Elves are hard to see unless they wish to be seen,” Dain said. “With all the wars in Nezza, I am not surprised that no one has seen an elf for many a long year.”
“There is little magic of any kind in Nezza,” said Alex.
“True enough,” said Skeld. “It took us more than a week to summon the geeb we sent to you.”
“And he would not return when I asked him to,” said Alex.
They all fell silent for a time, waiting for Dain to finish cooking their meal.
“You look troubled, Alex,” Virgil said once Dain began handing out plates of food.
“I am,” Alex admitted. “There is little information about Tempe, and I’m not sure how we should start looking for her.”
“I can help you with that,” said Virgil. “I once knew an adventurer who claimed to have met Tempe. He said there was a river flowing into the desert, and if a person followed the river, he would find Tempe.”
“Did he say how far into the desert the river flowed?” Alex questioned, remembering his dream from the night before.
“He did not, but as long as there is a river to follow, we should be fine,” said Virgil.
“True, but rivers that flow into deserts do not always flow out again. With all the trouble Lazar and Magnus have been making, the river may no longer flow into the desert at all.”
“But the riverbed would still be there,” said Virgil. “That at least would be a guide.”
“Perhaps,” Alex agreed. “I just wish we had more information.”
Alex could see that his own troubled thoughts were now bouncing around Virgil’s mind. The Adventurer’s Handbook didn’t say much about Tempe and nothing at all about a river running into the desert. In fact, the book advised people looking for Tempe to take plenty of water with them. It was possible that the adventurer Virgil knew had never even been to Nezza, so looking for a river flowing into the desert might be a complete waste of time. Still, Alex had dreamed about the river, and Tempe’s name had come to him before he woke.
The next morning, Alex was the first one awake again. He wandered away from the group and stood looking west. He was taking a chance going into the desert, but he thought the rewards would be worth any risks.
“Where do we start our search?” Virgil asked over breakfast.
“There is a wide valley leading into the desert a few miles north of here,” Alex said, remembering the landscape he had flown over as a raven. “It is as good a place as any to start looking.”
“And if there is no river?” Virgil asked.
“Then we will find another way,” Alex said with confidence. “I’m sure we’ll find a way into the red lands. Whether Tempe will speak to us when we get there, I cannot say.”
“You mean she might refuse?” Rallian asked, looking from Alex to Virgil.
“Oracles speak only to those they wish to speak to,” said Alex. “But I believe she will speak to us.”
“Then let us begin our search,” said Virgil, sounding bolder than he looked. “If Alex thinks the oracle will speak to us, I believe that she will.”
Once everyone had finished eating and packing, Alex led the group north toward the valley. Virgil and Rallian walked on either side of him.
The valley Alex had seen was actually farther away than he’d thought. By the time they reached the edge of the valley, it was well past midday. Virgil and the rest of his company were nearly worn out, and Dain set about fixing them a hurried meal.
Alex wanted to press on as soon as possible, but he knew he should let his friends rest. He walked toward the edge of the valley alone. It was as if something was calling to him from the desert—a strange voice that he could only feel and not hear. He stood at the edge of the valley and saw what looked like a dried-up riverbed cutting through the red lands.
Something strange caught his eye, and he blinked to make sure he was seeing clearly. Places along the riverbed were shining in the sun. It looked like there might be some water in the dry riverbed after all, but only in spots. As he watched, the shiny spots seemed to move from place to place.
At the end of the hour, Alex got the others on their feet and pressed forward. He had great hopes that the river he had seen shining in the sun would lead them to the oracle.
The ground between the edge of the valley and the river was crisscrossed with dry gullies and covered with large broken stones. Between the difficult terrain and the weakness of Alex’s companions, it was nearly dark before they reached the banks of the river.
“The river is dry,” said Cam, his voice dry and raspy.
“Mostly dry anyway,” Skeld added as he walked toward a small pool of water. “It can’t have been dry for long though, this water is still fresh.”
Alex followed Skeld to the pool and examined it. He didn’t think it was the same one he’d seen from the hills above the valley. He had seen movement, and, as far as he knew, puddles did not move.
“Strange,” Rallian commented as he looked up and down the river. “These pools are fresh, but the rest of the river is dry. I would say the pools were from the rain, but rain is scarce in western Nezza this time of year.”
“If it was rain, the rest of the riverbed would not be so dry,” said Dain.
“Something’s not right here,” Alex said as he looked around.
“You sense something?” Virgil asked.
“I do,” said Alex.
Alex didn’t know how to explain what he was thinking and feeling to his companions, so he chose not to speak at all. He stood watching the dry river as Dain cooked their evening meal and the others made camp. Alex felt like he was waiting for something, but he didn’t know what it could be.
After the meal, Alex returned to watching the river, trying to understand what he was feeling. Something was going to happen, he was sure of it. There was magic at work here, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was or why it was here.
“You should rest,” Rallian said to Alex as the rest of the company were rolling into their blankets. “You have done more than any of us. Surely you need rest more than we do.”
“I am fine,” said Alex. “But I’ve forgotten—I’m carrying your blankets.”
“The others have provided,” said Rallian with a slight bow. “You are distracted, and they have been most kind.”
“Then rest, my friend,” said Alex without looking away from the riverbed. “Our journey may be a long one, and you will need all o
f your strength.”
The empty river filled Alex’s mind. For a moment, he thought he must have been falling asleep, because he thought he saw water flowing in the river. He blinked and saw only the dry sand.
“Please,” said Rallian at last, “you need to rest. Without you, I don’t think any of us will see our homes again.”
“A sad thought,” said Alex, turning away from the river for the first time all evening.
“Perhaps so,” Rallian agreed. “But I will feel better if I know you are resting with the rest of us.”
“As you wish,” said Alex, bowing to Rallian and rejoining the company. “Perhaps sleep will help me find what I am looking for.”
Rallian seemed to relax as Alex rolled himself into a blanket.
Alex, however, did not go to sleep. He lay awake for a long time, thinking about his plan to find the oracle. Then he thought about what was happening in Nezza. He also thought about what Magnus might be up to and tried to imagine what he would do if he were Magnus.
Alex jumped up when the noise came. He looked around, trying to determine where the noise was coming from and what it was. Everyone else was sitting up as well, anxious and alert. Alex realized he was hearing the sound of moving water—and it was coming from the river. He ran back to the edge of the river, stopping before he fell into the water.
“But . . . it was dry,” said Tom, walking up behind Alex.
“Full enough now,” said Dain.
“There is more water here than there should be,” said Rallian. “The western rivers are always low this time of year.”
“Where would so much water come from?” Skeld asked.
“There is both more and less water here than there should be,” said Alex.
“More and less?” Virgil questioned. “How is that possible?”
It was a moonless night. Alex conjured several balls of bright white light so they could see the river better. The river looked almost ready to flood. For several minutes, they all stood watching the water rush by, unsure of what to do next.
Finally, Alex sent his weir lights dashing back and forth across the river, then upstream and down again. He wanted to know how much water was really in the river. This was old magic, and he didn’t think Magnus had anything to do with it.
As suddenly as the noise of rushing water had started, it stopped. There was no sound at all and no water in the river beside them. Once again Alex sent his weir lights dashing about, but the riverbed looked as dry as it had when they’d first arrived.
“This cannot be,” said Rallian.
“Some evil magic,” said Cam. “Magnus has done something to the water so it only flows in spots.”
“Magic, yes, but I don’t think Magnus has anything to do with this,” said Alex, calling the weir lights back to him. “Now I understand the shining I saw before. The river flows in some places, and the water reflects the sunlight. But the magic is like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”
“Why would anyone try to dry up a river?” Skeld asked.
“Perhaps to keep people from following it,” Virgil answered before Alex could. “If someone thought this river led to the oracle, they might want to discourage people from following it. It would be difficult to guard the entire river, so Lazar had Magnus dry it up.”
“This is not a matter to take lightly,” said Rallian. “Dark magic is at work here. We should leave this place as soon as possible.”
“Calm yourself,” said Alex. “We have nothing to fear. This is old magic, very old. This is not the work of Magnus. ”
“Perhaps not, but I would be happier if the river were either all dry or all wet,” Rallian answered.
“I think all wet would be best,” said Alex.
The rest of the company laughed slightly at Alex’s words but stopped when Alex stretched out his staff toward the river. He spoke softly, his mind focused on the river in front of him. He paused, calling up the power of the dragon to help him break this spell. After a moment, he struck the dry riverbed with the foot of his staff and commanded, “Flow free” in a loud voice.
There was a gurgling sound where Alex had struck the sand, and water appeared. Alex pushed his magic outward, knowing that it would have to move along the entire length of the river.
Suddenly a warning from his O’Gash shouted in his mind: Wait! There is something more behind this!
It was too late. Alex’s body tightened like a wire, every muscle pulling into knots and holding him in place. His muscles were so tight he couldn’t even make a sound. The water spread out across the sand, filling the empty riverbed. Alex remained motionless. For a moment, the waters of the river stood perfectly still, and then they started to move. The cramps that had seized him relaxed as soon as the water moved. He staggered slightly, catching himself with his staff before he fell. The sound of the river hid the gasp that escaped Alex, but not the cry of pain that came from Rallian.
“Prince Rallian?” said Virgil.
“I’m all right, just . . . just give me a second,” Rallian answered. He was on his knees, trying to get back to his feet. Virgil and Skeld stood on either side of the prince, helping him to stand.
“What happened?” Alex asked. His own body felt weak.
“I . . . I’m not sure,” said Rallian. “For a moment, when the water started to flow, well . . .”
“You cried out in pain and collapsed,” said Skeld when Rallian didn’t continue.
“A few moments of pain,” said Rallian. “It felt as if every muscle in my body was about to tear itself apart. I’m fine now, I think.”
“Aye, we’ll all be sore and stiff before morning,” said Dain. “Especially if you’re not used to all this walking. Cramps can often take you with no warning at all.”
“Yes, that must be it,” said Rallian.
Alex wasn’t so sure. There was some connection between the magic he had just broken and Rallian. He understood why he had felt the pain—he was the one breaking the magic—but why had Rallian also felt pain?
“Your magic is powerful,” said Cam in an awed voice, looking at the river.
“It was a strange spell—not what I expected,” said Alex, his eyes still on Rallian.
“Freeing the river from its curse and letting it flow freely again is a noble deed,” said Skeld.
“When the desert river flows, and the eastern wind blows,” Rallian recited softly.
“What was that?” Alex asked.
“Nothing,” said Rallian. “Just an old story that has no meaning.”
“There is always meaning in old stories, even if we have forgotten them,” said Alex, more to himself than to anyone else.
“I think we should all try to get some sleep,” said Virgil. “Tomorrow we enter the red lands of Nezza, and we will need all our strength.”
Chapter Nine
The Red Lands
The next morning, Alex woke to the sounds of Dain cooking. While breaking the spell on the river had not been difficult, it had taken a great deal of power. Alex moved slowly as he rolled out of his blankets, worried that the cramps from the night before would return. There had been some other magic at work, something tied to the curse on the river, something very old. His O’Gash had tried to warn him, but the warning had come too late.
The smell of cooking bacon reached Alex’s nose, making his stomach rumble. He pulled his boots on with care, testing his body as he moved. The other magic had been set loose when he’d set the river free. It had caused him pain, and it had also hurt Rallian. There was some link between that magic and Rallian, he was sure of that, but now he could find no trace of that magic.
“So we’ve found the river that flows into the desert,” said Virgil. “Now we must see how far into the desert it flows.”
“Perhaps not,” said Alex, moving toward the campfire. “Tempe may not live at the end of the river but somewhere along its banks.”
“I hope it is not too far,” Cam commented. “Even with a river close by, the desert is a
hard place to travel.”
“A little sun will do you good,” said Skeld. “Our time in captivity has left you as white as a lily.”
“Speaking of lilies,” said Alex. “How is it that your wife, Lilly, let you go on this adventure? You haven’t been married long enough for her to grow tired of you already.”
“I told you, Virgil is Lilly’s cousin,” said Skeld. “He’s the one who talked her into letting me come along.”
“And I am glad that I did,” said Virgil. “If Skeld had not called on you for assistance, we would still be guests in Lazar’s dungeon.”
“And I would be bored at home,” said Alex.
“Better to be bored at home than in the dungeons of Karmus,” Dain observed, handing Alex a plate full of food.
“He wasn’t in the dungeons for long, was he,” said Tom.
“And neither were we, once Master Taylor arrived,” Cam added.
“Please,” Alex said. “I am happy I could help. I am pleased you are all recovering from your imprisonment, but please, call me Alex.”
“Don’t be too hard on them,” said Skeld with a smile. “Few adventurers ever get to travel with a wizard.”
“And fewer still call them by their first names,” Virgil added, putting his blankets back into his magic bag. “I suppose we should make a start as soon as everyone is finished eating.”
“The red lands of Nezza,” said Cam thoughtfully. “I have heard stories about these lands, even in my far-off home.”
“Then you have heard more than most,” said Dain.
“I know a few stories,” said Rallian, a nervous note in his voice.
“Stories to fear?” Skeld asked.
“I would guess that Rallian’s stories are less than accurate,” said Alex. “It seems that most stories in Nezza have been told to keep people from knowing the truth.”
“I’ll not deny that,” Rallian admitted. “Our stories say that all wizards are evil and all magic is black, but I can see that those stories are not true.”
