The Congruent Wizard (The Congruent Mage Series Book 2)

by Dave Schroeder

  Nûd patted Rocky’s neck. “Go get something to eat, boy,” he said. “But don’t spook the wisent herds.”

  Eynon looked at Nûd and winked. From everything they’d seen, the wyvern was a judicious hunter. He’d find a pronghorn or flathorn or some other large mammal for a late dinner. He hadn’t had anything to eat since the pair of goats he’d consumed on the Bifurland flagship this afternoon—and a sturgeon, Eynon remembered.

  Rocky launched himself skyward and circled up to hunt, his eyes already adapted to nocturnal searches for prey, while Nûd climbed on Eynon’s flying disk and the two of them, with Nûd carrying a pair of pillow cases, skimmed down the snow-dusted slope into the basin.

  “Watch out for basilisks,” said Nûd.

  “Speaking of basilisks,” said Eynon. “Why didn’t you warn me about them before I set off to find my magestone initially?”

  “Damon wouldn’t let me,” said Nûd.

  “More of his character building?”

  “I think it was more like destructive testing,” said Nûd. “Any would-be apprentice who couldn’t make it back alive wasn’t true wizard material.”

  “That’s a callous approach to teaching,” said Eynon. “How many apprentices never came back?”

  “About one in five,” said Nûd. “I thought it was cruel, but I was overruled. Damon said any would-be wizard stupid enough to be petrified by a basilisk didn’t deserve to be a wizard.”

  “He let the basilisks kill them?” asked Eynon.

  “I didn’t say kill, I said petrify,” noted Nûd. “Damon would turn failed candidates from stone back to flesh, then send them through the nearest gate to Brendinas or Tyford.”

  “We’ll have to be extra-careful around the basilisks then,” said Eynon.

  “Because Damon is busy with the royal army?” asked Nûd. “Fercha might unpetrify you as a favor to me, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” said Eynon. “I’m going to put us down on the far edge of the circle around the big geyser. It’s close to a field of mud pots, but there are mud pots all over the basin. I remember sensing something that must have been magestone fragments near there, but I was too inexperienced and too worried about basilisks to know what I was detecting.”

  Nûd stepped off Eynon’s flying disk first.

  “How will I know which stones are magestone fragments when I see them?” asked Nûd.

  “That’s right. I’m sorry. You can’t sense them like I can,” said Eynon. “Let me think.”

  Eynon tried the solidified sound lenses that helped him see at night and far away, but neither of those helped. Then he tried varying the quality of the light from the glowing sphere above his head. He made a similar sphere for Nûd.

  At one point as he shifted across the spectrum he saw a flash on the ground beyond the glazed circle around the geyser. He tuned back to focus on that style of light and increased the sphere’s altitude and brightness. Thousands of tiny fragments glittered blue, green, purple and gold near the closest hot spring.

  “That will help,” said Nûd as his glowing sphere matched Eynon’s.

  “Glad to be of service,” said Eynon.

  Then they both heard a slapping sound, like a sandal flapping against mud. Chee started a frantic chorus of chee-chee-chee-chee next to Eynon’s ear.

  “Uh oh,” said Nûd. “We’ve got company. Don’t look directly at them.”

  Basilisks! thought Eynon. One basilisk, anyway. Where there was one, there would be more. He threw up a hemisphere of translucent solidified sound between them and the slapping sounds.

  “Any great ideas?” asked Nûd. “It won’t be easy to gather magestone fragments while we’re dodging basilisks.”

  “Hmmm…” said Eynon. “Basilisks eat us—I wonder what eats basilisks?”

  “Nothing we’d like to meet in the dark, that’s for sure,” said Nûd. “I don’t think Rocky would eat them. They can’t taste very good living in all that sulphurous muck. It’s too bad we can’t just lock them in their mud pots somehow.”

  “Thanks for the great idea,” said Eynon. “My red magestone is great at generating heat. I wonder how good it is at absorbing it.”

  “Oh!” said Nûd. “That could work. I’ll keep an eye on the one that’s out. Why did I leave my crossbow on Rocky’s back?”

  “Because you knew you’d need both hands to gather magestone fragments,” said Eynon. “Let’s get back on my flying disk so we don’t have to worry about the basilisk that’s stalking us.”

  “I’m in favor of that,” said Nûd.

  He stepped onto the disk and waited for Eynon to join him. Soon they were twenty feet above the circle of hard white ground around the geyser. Eynon shifted the translucent hemisphere of solidified sound to track below them so they didn’t catch the gaze of the lone basilisk inadvertently.

  “Nudge me if you think I’m taking too much heat away,” said Eynon. “I want to slow down the basilisks who want to eat us, not kill them all. They must have some role in the natural order in this basin and I don’t want to upset it.”

  “Most wizards wouldn’t care,” said Nûd.

  “I guess I’m not most wizards,” Eynon replied with a smile.

  Nûd grinned, but Eynon couldn’t see him. Their flying disk had drifted to the center of the hard-crusted white surface around the geyser, above a small tower of rock. Eynon looked past the translucent sphere to the field of mud pots and consulted his blue magestone, then drew on the power of his red stone to suck heat out of the top layers of the mud. In seconds, the mud pots stopped bubbling. Then they crusted over and a rime of white, like frozen dew, formed on the surface.

  “You can stop now,” said Nûd, tapping Eynon’s shoulder. “That should do it.”

  “Right,” said Eynon. He shook his head, clearing his mind of the magic he’d just worked.

  The events of the next five seconds did even more to clear his mind, replacing coherent thought with panic. Removing heat from the field of mud pots had triggered the geyser. A huge jet of boiling, mineral-laden water shot up from the tower of rock and caught the bottom of Eynon’s flying disk, sending it a hundred feet higher. Nûd was caught off-balance and fell to his knees, though he managed to grab Eynon’s shins before he fell off. Then Eynon slipped through Nûd’s arms and was gone.

  “Eynon!” shouted Nûd. But Eynon wasn’t there. A gryffon twice the size of a wisent had Eynon’s backpack in his talons and was carrying him north beyond the basin. Nûd didn’t have time for more than a glance skyward, however. It took all his skill to keep the flying disk balanced atop the geyser’s jet and not fall to his death. It was a long way down.

  Chapter 52

  Doethan

  “Come no further!” shouted a wizard from the darkness as Doethan flew close to the royal army’s encampment. “Friend or foe?”

  “If I were a foe, would I tell you?” asked Doethan. “What kind of challenge is that? If I were trying to sneak into camp, would I have a light over my head announcing my presence?”

  “Doethan, good to see you!” said Inthíra from her flying disk. She triggered a glowing sphere above her head now that remaining hidden was no longer necessary. “It sounded like a good challenge, but now that you mention it, any foe would just lie. I’d thought it was you when I saw you, but was sure when I heard your voice.”

  “That’s how I knew it was you, too,” said Doethan as he brought his flying disk alongside Inthíra’s. “You need to implement a system of passwords. We can worry about that later, if the kingdom survives the day.”

  “Always the optimist,” said Inthíra.

  “I didn’t say I thought Dâron wouldn’t survive,” said Doethan, “but if it doesn’t, passwords will be the least of our worries.”

  “Always wise, too,” Inthíra responded. “I assume you’re here to see King Dârio and Master Mage Ealdamon? I can take you to them.”

  “Duke Háiddon, too,” said Doethan “I’ll need help fro
m his people who know the land west of the Tamloch army’s encampment. I’ll also need your help, plus assistance from other trusted members of the Conclave.”

  “Follow me down,” said Inthíra. “I’ll get you to the headquarters tent. Everyone you want to talk to is there.”

  “Be sure to send up another wizard to look for spies,” said Doethan.

  “Always responsible too, my friend,” said Inthíra. “I will.” She turned her head so Doethan wouldn’t see her smile.

  * * * * *

  “That’s quite clever,” said Duke Háiddon after Doethan explained why he needed assistance. “Quite devious, too. It sounds like something you’d come up with, Ealdamon. Are you sure this wasn’t your idea?”

  “Quite sure,” said Damon. “My new apprentice came up with it all on his own.”

  “He claims Nûd gave him the idea, Your Grace,” said Doethan. “The particular solution he selected is all on Eynon.”

  “I’m looking forward to meeting this young man with a red magestone,” said Duke Háiddon. “And that other fellow who inspired him. Nûd, you said his name was, Master Mage? Who is he?”

  “My servant,” said Damon.

  Doethan raised an eyebrow.

  “My associate, really,” Damon revised. “He keeps me organized.”

  “Another wizard in training?” asked Duke Háiddon.

  “More like a close friend of the family,” said Damon.

  “He’s not a wizard, but Damon would be lost without him,” said Doethan.

  “And so might the kingdom, if not for Nûd and Eynon,” asserted the Duke. “Their plan is ingenious. Confusion to the enemy!”

  “Confusion to the enemy,” everyone repeated.

  “Where do you intend to spring the trap?” asked Dârio. “Where the Tamloch army is encamped now, or where they will form up for their attack?”

  “Eynon wasn’t sure, Your Majesty,” said Doethan. “He said that answer was best left to people more experienced with military strategy.” Doethan yawned and covered his mouth then continued. “I’d expect it best to attack them after they were formed up, but before they engaged, though I could see it either way. We’re just not sure we can have everything in place before first light so we would even have the option of attacking the camp, not the ordered troops.”

  “What do you advise, Your Grace?” asked Dârio.

  Damon smiled at the young king. He was learning.

  “I second Doethan, Your Majesty,” said the duke. “It will have a greater impact on their morale to hit them after they’re assembled. If we attack their camp, they’ll scatter and we’ll be rousting Tamloch soldiers out of farmers’ barns from here to the Coombe before they’re all accounted for.”

  “Very good,” said Dârio. “Take the people and resources you require and make the necessary preparations quickly. We want this surprise to truly be a surprise.”

  “I think we can count on that,” said Damon. “I wonder what Eynon will come up with next?”

  “I’d be more worried about that if I were Túathal and Verro,” said Inthíra. “How many wizards will you need?”

  “Six more, in addition to the two of us,” said Doethan. We could get by with two, or four, but eight is even better.”

  “Plus some soldiers to defend us,” suggested Inthíra.

  “But not too many,” said Duke Háiddon. “This little project needs to rely on stealth, not force of arms.”

  “Of course, Your Grace,” said Doethan. “A squad of archers and one with swords and shields should do nicely. Preferably ones who know the area.”

  “I’ll inform their commanders,” said Háiddon. “Let’s get about it.”

  “How can I help with Eynon’s surprise?” asked Damon.

  “Oh no you don’t,” said Dârio. “You’re not heading off over the countryside. You’re sticking close to me so you can focus on your surprise, the one that will let the Roma legions from across the river join forces with us.”

  “Forgive me, Your Majesty,” said Damon with a smile. “I do have a surprise of my own to manage, don’t I?”

  “Yes,” said Dârio with a tone of finality. “You do.”

  Damon bowed to the king and smiled. Dârio raised both eyebrows while Damon turned up his palms in a gesture of acceptance. He’d be ready to freeze the Brenavon in the morning.

  “Inthíra,” said Duke Háiddon as that worthy wizard was about to leave with Doethan. “Redouble the patrolling wizards in the skies. We don’t want to be caught out by any Tamloch trickery.”

  “Of course, Your Grace,” said Inthíra. “We don’t want to be caught unawares while we’re doing the same to Tamloch.”

  “Remember, good duke,” said Doethan. “Our sources tell us that Verro has a surprise of his own planned for us.”

  “More than one, probably,” grumbled Damon. “We all need to stay alert and ready to cope with whatever happens.”

  “And there’s no chance of a good night’s sleep for any of us,” added Duke Háiddon.

  “I’ll be ready when necessary” said Dârio. “It won’t take me long to put on my armor when the time comes.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” said the duke. “I’m counting on you to stand by me to inspire the troops.”

  “I intend to do more than inspire,” said Dârio. “I plan to fight.”

  “So long as you remember you’re a king, not a common soldier,” said Duke Háiddon. “And keep your shield up the way I taught you.”

  “Yes, Your Grace. I’ll remember,” said Dârio. He saw that Doethan and Inthíra were still standing by the door to the headquarters tent. “Hurry, my friends,” said the king. “We’re counting on you!”

  “As His Majesty commands,” said Inthíra. She gave a quick bow and dragged Doethan out of the tent behind her.

  Chapter 53

  Verro

  “We’re clear then?” asked Verro. He was standing by a campfire, fifty feet away from the others, at a large encampment of southern Clan Landers.

  “Yes,” said Fox from the Mastlands. “We come in behind the Dâron royal army while you attack them from the front.”

  “Don’t stop to pillage their encampment,” Verro reminded. “There will be plenty of Dâron loot to go around when the battle’s won.”

  “Of course,” said Fox. “The Clan Landers—we Clan Landers—know our business, even if we don’t march on command like the kings’ armies. The clan chiefs want land more than loot, and that’s what you’ve promised.”

  “I’ll see that you get it, too,” said Verro. “All the way to the Rhuthro valley.”

  “The barony of Upper Rhuthro and Applegarth are to be mine,” Fox asserted, “and all the lands on the west bank up to Flying Frog Farms, including Mastlands.”

  “You shall be a Duke of the Rhuthro, if Clan Landers have such a title,” said Verro. “So long as you and your forces help us crush Dâron’s army.”

  “Just keep their wizards off our backs and we will,” said Fox.

  “Dâron’s wizards will be busy elsewhere fighting off Bifurland raiders and Tamloch’s wizards,” said Verro. “They won’t have time to bother you.”

  “Good,” said Fox, tugging his pointed beard. “A pair of wizards cost two of my brothers their toes and I have a score to settle.”

  “You’ll have to tell me that story over a beer someday,” said Verro.

  “If you’re buying,” said Fox.

  “Gladly,” said Verro. The Tamloch wizard stretched his long frame and regarded the smaller man.

  “I have a personal question for you, if you don’t mind me asking,” said Verro.

  “That depends on the question,” said Fox.

  “You just arrived in the south,” said Verro. “You haven’t been in the southern Clan Lands for a fortnight. Why did the chiefs appoint you as their go-between and spokesman?”

  “There’s a simple answer to that,” said Fox, “and I don’t mind the question.” Fox looked around to ensure other Clan L
anders weren’t close by. Reassured, he continued. “None of the clan chiefs particularly trust each other,” he said. “I’m a newcomer, with a grudge against Dâron. Choosing me meant not choosing one of them, which would have given the chosen chief an advantage. With me, the balance of power among the clans stays as it was.”

  “That makes sense,” said Verro.

  “There’s also the small matter of the south Clan Landers’ accent,” said Fox. “It took me more than a week to understand what they were saying, and they figured I’d do a better job of serving as their liaison to Tamloch since you could tell I wasn’t insulting your mother when I spoke.”

  “Lucky you,” said Verro. He found the dialect of the southern Clan Lands intelligible, if he paid attention, though it could be hard to decipher when they’d been drinking.

  “Not at all,” said Fox with a sly grin. “It was a matter of seizing an opportunity.”

  “Like the chance to gain half the Rhuthro valley?” asked Verro.

  “The clan chiefs don’t care about the Rhuthro,” said Fox. “They want the good farm lands in the Coombe.”

  “So long as they know the quarry to the northwest of that territory is off-limits,” said Verro.

  “I’ve told them, and they’ve agreed,” said Fox. “The clans don’t have much use for rocks—and you do. Why do you want rocks?”

  “It’s a wizards’ matter,” said Verro, “and not your concern if you want to be Duke of the Rhuthro.”

  “Alright, alright, I was just asking,” said Fox. “I hope I’ll find the two wizards who chopped off my brothers’ toes tomorrow. I’ll chop off more than their toes, you can be sure of that.”

  “What do these wizards look like?” asked Verro. “I’ll keep an eye out for them and give you a chance at payback if I can manage it.”

  “That would put me in your debt if you could,” said Fox. “They’re both young—fifteen or sixteen. A man and a woman. He’s tall and thin, with a Coombe accent. I know the woman. She’s Meredith, the daughter of the baron of the Upper Rhuthro, and goes by Merry. She has auburn hair and a smart mouth—she thinks she’s better than the rest of us. Rumor says she spends time with a hedge wizard named Doethan who has a tower on the Rhuthro. She might be his concubine.”