Foundling Wizard

by James Eggebeen

  “How’s he doing?” Yerlow asked.

  “The spell seems to be lifting, but he’s not responding yet.”

  “Maybe he just needs a little rest now,” she said. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep yourself? You can start again in the morning, when you’re rested.”

  Chihon looked at Lorit. He was fast asleep. She ran her hands ever so gently above him, feeling for the web. “I think you’re right. I can’t feel the web anymore.”

  “Come,” Yerlow said. “You can sleep in the workroom. I’ve prepared a blanket and pillow for you.”

  “I think I’ll stay here,” Chihon said. “Lorit may wake. He may need me during the night.”

  “I’ll bring you the blanket then, so you may be at least a little comfortable.” Yerlow departed and quickly returned with a thick blanket and a fluffy down pillow. “These should make you more comfortable,” she said.

  Yerlow guided Chihon to the blanket and stroked her hair as she lay down. “Rest up, dear, tomorrow will be a new dawn.”

  Chihon fell fast asleep as Yerlow soothed her.

  Over the next few days, Lorit regained consciousness for longer and longer periods of time. Chihon sat beside him, willing him back to health and strength. He muttered in his sleep and occasionally cried out in pain. It was those nights that Chihon sat up and comforted him.

  “They killed Onolt,” he sobbed. “She was just a little girl. She never did anything.” He would grab at his chest and cry out in pain, thrashing about as if trying to escape someone who was cutting him. Suddenly, he would stop and begin sobbing until it finally subsided and he quieted.

  During his calmer moments, he explained to her what he felt as he lay captive. He was certain the priests had killed his sister and his mother. He grew more angry and bitter about it as he recovered. Gone was the happy optimistic Lorit she’d met weeks back in Trickby. Lorit seemed older, harder, as if his happiness had died with his sister.

  Sulrad sat behind his desk, impatiently awaiting the arrival of his summoning. Only Vorathorm had the nerve to make him wait, and one day the man would tarry a little too long.

  The air shimmered and twisted into the shape of the High Priest. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Vorathorm said as he materialized. He casually took a seat across from Sulrad, dropping into the chair as if it were his office and not Sulrad’s.

  “The web has been broken,” Sulrad said without prelude or introduction. He looked at Vorathorm, waiting for the High Priest to react.

  “The wizard has broken free of the web? How was he able to do that? I destroyed the pairing when I dispatched the girl. He should have spent the next two seasons slowly dying in that crypt.”

  Sulrad smiled. It looked like Vorathorm had been paying attention after all.

  “Father Taiez did not provide a lot of detail. He sent an Under Priest to report the failure. There was very little to be garnered from him. He did indicate that it was strong wizard’s magic that destroyed his carefully laid spell.

  “I thought you had handled this situation. Have you failed me?” Sulrad asked, eying Vorathorm with a challenging look. He hoped the High Priest wasn’t going to let him down like so many others had.

  Vorathorm looked slightly ashamed. “I handled the girl. That should have been enough to prevent this. Lorit should have been shielded from any wizardly interference while he expired. No strength short of the pair bond should have been able to penetrate that web.” He shifted uncomfortably in the chair. “With the sister gone, who could have located him, much less broken the web?”

  “That’s the heart of the matter, isn’t it?” Sulrad reached for a stack of papers on his desk. He lifted one of them and handed it to Vorathorm. “My spies tell me that he had a girl with him at Bebrook. She was also with him at the courthouse when he testified, and she was still with him at the campsite when he was taken.

  “It seems that I can trust no one to do a proper job with this. Do I have to spell everything out for you? It would be rare indeed that he and this girl are paired, but until we get our hands on them, we must treat them both as a threat,” Sulrad explained. He kept his shields at full strength throughout the conversation. Vorathorm was a superb tool, but like a sharp knife, one had to take precautions or risked serious injury.

  “So, they have not been able to locate him?” Vorathorm asked. He flipped through the papers as he spoke.

  “He may still be in Trickby,” Sulrad said. “I scarcely believe he could have gotten far. Even with the web broken, he must be weak. Find him and destroy him.”

  Vorathorm stood up and bowed slightly. “As you wish.” He stepped back to the center of the carpet where he had first appeared and quickly vanished.

  Chapter 12

  “Chihon?” Lorit called out. “Chihon? Are you there?”

  He sat up in a strange bed. The stone tomb that trapped him was gone and had been replaced by a heavy comforter. He looked around the room in a panic before he remembered where he was.

  “Lorit?” Chihon called from the kitchen. “I’m in here.”

  Lorit sat up in the bed, wrapping the blanket around him. He was still weak, but regaining his strength more and more each day. Chihon entered the room carrying a plate filled with bread and cheese slices and a cup of steaming tea.

  “Here,” she said, offering it to him. “Your breakfast is ready.”

  “Did you have the dream again?” she asked.

  “I did. Not so vivid this time.”

  “Good. Zhimosom and Rotiaqua say they can feel your powers again.”

  “This is a good thing?” he queried her.

  “They were worried about you,” she said. “They didn’t believe that you were still alive. They were completely unable to sense you using any method known to them.”

  “But you were. I felt you reaching for me.”

  “Yes, I could,” she said.

  Lorit questioned her at length about what she’d done, and what the web was like that had enmeshed him. He reviewed the remedy she had used reading and studying her spell book. He even borrowed more from Gareb and read those, too.

  “I don’t speak words or create potions,” Lorit said one afternoon. “I just do the magic.”

  “Maybe the words help,” Chihon said.

  Lorit opened the palm of his hand. “Incendo ignio,” he whispered. A small flame appeared just above his hand. He could feel the heat of it, but it did not burn. “Incendo exstinguere,” he said quietly.

  The flame vanished and his hand immediately cooled. He stared at his palm again and willed the fire into existence without a word. It appeared just as readily as when he spoke. He extinguished it just as easily.

  “It does not seem to make any difference.”

  “Maybe it only helps when you really need it,” she said.

  “Advolo ad mea,” he said, stretching his hand out toward the plate Chihon had placed on the table. The cheese lifted from the platter, wobbling slightly, and then drifted toward his hand. He grabbed it out of the air and took a bite of it before tossing it back. The cheese obediently floated back to settle squarely on the plate once again.

  “Did they have any idea who would do something like this?” Lorit asked.

  “They think that it was the work of the temple. Not your local priest, but someone high up in the temple hierarchy, or a combination of very powerful priests.”

  “I need to get going,” Lorit said. “I have to find out who did this and repay them for their kindness.”

  “You’re still recovering your strength, Lorit. You need to rest at least another week.”

  “A few more days, no more,” Lorit said. “I have to get going.” He lay back in the bed, wrapping the blanket around him and was soon fast asleep.

  Lorit woke in the middle of the night. It was pitch dark. He felt the call of Zhimosom pulling at him. He relaxed and allowed the wizard to appear.

  The old wizard materialized, sitting in the familiar chair in his study. He was surrounded by books
stacked on the floor and table. He leaned forward into the light of the candle.

  “You’re looking better, son,” he said.

  “I’m feeling better,” Lorit said. “I need to find out who did this to me.”

  “Yes, I know you do. It may be dangerous, as you have not yet come into your full powers, and you are still weak from your trials.”

  “I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

  “I understand,” the wizard said. “You will need to learn and practice a few more things if you wish to survive this quest you have set for yourself. It would do no good to find the priest who did this, only to fall under his spell once again.”

  “What do I need to learn that I haven’t already learned?” Lorit asked.

  “You need to learn to counter spells such as the one you were captured with. You also need to learn how to shield yourself and those around you even while you sleep.

  “You were overcome and physically assaulted while you slept,” the wizard explained. “Fortunately, they did not recognize the significance of the girl, or she would have been taken along with you. Had that happened, I fear that you both would have been lost and the temple would have won.”

  “Show me what you have in mind,” Lorit said. He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back in the bed, waiting to see what the wizard had to say.

  The wizard picked up his staff and used it to heft himself out of the chair. He walked around the desk and stood before Lorit. As he stretched out his staff, Lorit thought that the image seemed more solid than usual. The wizard raised his staff. With the blunt end, he jabbed Lorit in the chest.

  Unprepared for the physical impact, Lorit jumped when the staff contacted him. He’d expected the vision to be insubstantial.

  The wizard approached until he towered over Lorit.

  “Do you require an object lesson?” he demanded. “I could do more than simply tap you with my staff.”

  He pulled out the chair and seated himself with a heavy sigh. He leaned over and pointed at the candle, which ignited, filling the room with light. The wizard’s study faded, leaving Zhimosom sitting at the table in the bedroom.

  Zhimosom looked over the untouched dinner that Chihon had prepared for Lorit. He picked up the cheese and examined it as if inspecting it for flaws, then took a bite and placed it back on the plate.

  “Are you ready to learn a few things now?” Zhimosom asked.

  “Yes,” Lorit said, sitting at attention on his bed. “How did you get here physically like that?”

  “That, you will learn later. For now, we must concentrate on developing your ability to protect yourself even when asleep.”

  The wizard carefully described the techniques that Lorit would need to protect himself. Until now, he’d maintained shields for specific purposes, like when he wanted to remain invisible as he had in his excursions through the temple or jail. Now he learned how to raise and maintain protective shields without even thinking.

  The wizard repeatedly poked and prodded at him with his staff, as Lorit became more and more adept at the various forms of physical protection. Finally, he stepped back and asked, “Are you ready for the real test?”

  “The real test?” Lorit asked. “What is the real test?”

  Zhimosom raised his staff and mumbled words that Lorit could not hear. The dream of his confinement suddenly became real. He could feel the ropes tightening around him, squeezing the breath out of him as they coiled tighter and tighter.

  Lorit panicked. This was his nightmare become real. He struggled to breathe and remain conscious.

  “Calmly. Don’t fight it directly,” Zhimosom reminded Lorit.

  Lorit felt for the spell. He grasped at the imaginary ropes that encircled him, drawing tighter. He panicked as they tightened and threatened to suffocate him.

  “Don’t fight it. Remember your lessons.”

  Lorit tried to relax. He stopped fighting and felt a slight loosening of the ropes that bound him. He recalled the words Zhimosom had taught him to help focus his will. “Vincula et libera me,” he said. He could feel the bonds slipping away. “Vincula et libera me,” he repeated.

  The bonds fell away and Lorit was able to breathe freely once again. The old wizard sat passively on the chair, watching him struggle. He had watched with a diligent eye throughout Lorit’s ordeal, absently stroking his long white beard.

  When Lorit was free, Zhimosom spoke. “That was respectable, my boy.” He leaned forward in the chair and once again jabbed his staff at Lorit. Lorit felt the tip of the staff hit his shield and stop short.

  “Respectable,” Zhimosom repeated. “Are you starting to develop a little humility yet?”

  “Yes, mighty one,” Lorit said.

  “Don’t mighty one me. Your powers are great and growing rapidly. Soon, you’ll come into them at their fullest. If you’re not careful, you’ll be a target for every priest from here to Quineshua.”

  The wizard stood up from the chair, once again leaning heavily on his staff. As he stepped backward, the study from which he had emerged reappeared. He stepped behind his desk and seated himself in his usual place.

  “Take care, my boy. You have a quest ahead of you that many would fear to undertake.” He looked down at the large book opened in front of him.

  “And look after Chihon,” he admonished Lorit. “You will come to depend on her heavily if you remain steadfast in your quest.”

  “I’ll look after her,” Lorit said.

  The wizard’s image faded from view as the candle flickered and extinguished itself, plunging Lorit into darkness.

  In the morning, Lorit woke to the sound of Chihon entering. She looked at the empty plate on the table. “Did you wake up and eat last night?” she asked.

  “No, it was the wizard,” he said.

  “The wizard? He was here?”

  “Yes, he was here. He was right here in this room.”

  “What was he doing in your room?” she asked.

  “Jabbing me with his staff,” Lorit answered. “He insisted that I learn a few advanced shield techniques. Then he put that binding spell on me, the one the priest used.”

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “At first I was caught up. It was the nightmare returning. I was suffocating and I couldn’t breathe until I remembered what he’d taught me. Then it was simple.”

  “What happened then?” she asked.

  “Then he just walked back into his study, took his seat, and told me to be careful.”

  “He was here in this room?” she asked again.

  Lorit pulled up his shirt to expose several round red marks on his chest. “Real enough for you?” he asked.

  Chihon had just finished preparing breakfast when Lorit arrived. He seated himself and slid the chair under the table. Gareb joined them just as Lorit poured himself a mug of tea and began loading up his plate.

  “I hear we had a visit from the mighty one last night. Imagine that,” Gareb chuckled. “One of them right here, in our own house.”

  “What did he want?” Chihon asked. She dropped a thick cloth pad on the table and carefully placed the pan in the middle.

  “He wanted me to learn a few more shield techniques,” Lorit said. “At times, it was quite a painful lesson.”

  Gareb rubbed at his chest. “I think I recall one or two of those,” he said with a smile.

  “He also thinks he knows who was responsible for my imprisonment and the death of my sister,” he added with a frown. Lorit picked at his food, slicing one of the sausages into thin slices and shoving them around his plate without actually eating them.

  “Who was it?” Chihon asked. She was concerned for Lorit. He’d lost his cheerful demeanor in the crypt. She kept hoping that something he learned would bring it back.

  “He thinks it was a priest by the name of Sulrad. He’s one of the high-ups in the temple at Quineshua.” He halfheartedly picked at one of the sausage bits. “I fear we have a long journey in front of us.”
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  “Going to Quineshua, to the temple?” Gareb asked. “Those temple priests are a bad lot. Quineshua is the center of their religion, their stronghold. It can’t be a wise decision to take them on directly like that.”

  “I didn’t start this quarrel,” Lorit said. He waved his hand in an easterly direction, jabbing at the air with his fork. “They started it.”

  “Ever since that day in the high pasture, when I first materialized that apple, they’ve chased me down, tortured me, imprisoned me. They killed my sister and my mother. They killed Ardser. They seek out young wizards and interfere in their lives before they get a chance to decide anything for themselves.”

  “It sounds dangerous,” Chihon said, looking worried. “Are you sure you are up to the task?” She feared that he would take off on a dangerous quest before he was ready. He had narrowly escaped their clutches, and she didn’t want to lose him. She felt the bond growing stronger between them. It scared her and excited her in a way that nothing ever had before. She could draw on his power when she needed to and cast spells that she would otherwise never have imagined possible.

  “I don’t know if I’m up to the task yet, but I have to do something. I can’t simply stand by and let it keep happening.”

  “They’ve already had you in their powers twice before. What makes you sure that you’re not walking into a trap?” Chihon asked. “Why did they leave you alive when they killed Onolt?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it was to torture me even more by letting me live with the guilt.

  “Zhimosom says my powers are growing. They’ll soon be at full strength. If I’m not ready to take them on now, I never will be.”

  “Your powers may be maturing, but there is learning that you’ve not yet had time to acquire,” Gareb said. “It’s winter and travel to Quineshua will be difficult. You’re welcome to stay with us as long as you need. By spring, you’ll be properly prepared for this quest.”