Wandmaster

by Valerie Kramboviti

  and cruel. Some of us, certainly, will not leave this place alive, and those of us that do may carry the injuries sustained here for the rest of our lives. But the good that we will do if we overcome Ataxios will spread throughout the Realm, and will touch many more lives than ours." There was a pause as the obvious truth in Menoneth's words settled in. "I will ask Gothrik, our military strategist, to take the floor at this point in order to explain our aims and targets."

  "Thank you, Lord Menoneth." Gothrik, a man of middle years and somewhat heavy build, stroked his chin thoughtfully before beginning. "What are our aims? Well, firstly, we must

  perform our duty to our Wandmaster; in other words, to protect him from harm and give him freedom to carry out his task. In order to do this, we must somehow overcome very superior numbers, and I believe Vilma has some encouragement for us in that direction." Vilma smoothed her skirts and said, "My origins are from the wildlands, and my sister and I still have strong links with our folk. We are a proud and valiant race, and I have called on my kin to assist us in our cause. They have just reason to hate Ataxios and his Akryd as much as any, and they have sent forces to boost our numbers. They are many and fearsome, and if you scan the hillsides around us, you will not see them but they are there. They have been marching for some days, like us and are ready to join with us and fight.

  "So, Wandmaster, we are not alone," smiled Vilma.

  "That's good to hear, though I wonder why I am only learning of this now. I would have liked to meet with your people, Vilma, and to have their representative here at our deliberations."

  "I am their representative. What I know and learn, they will also know through our think-bond. It is strong in our blood and we are skilled in its use. I will introduce you to our Firstwarrior, Tharrios, now if you wish." And John was suddenly aware in a mental picture of a strong-chinned, serious faced man considering him shrewdly." There were no words, just a bow of the head in recognition, which John returned solemnly. The image was fleeting and disappeared but left John with a feeling of strength and solidarity.

  "Well, then," he said to Vilma, "I am most grateful for their support and hope that they will come to our aid with minimal hurt to themselves. This situation is deadly serious. It seems to me that I have to perform a near impossible task and I will do my best, but I feel the weight of responsibility for all our lives."

  Gothrik coughed uneasily, and bristled slightly. "Wandmaster, with all respect, your task is simply to defeat Ataxios. Jetham and I will worry about the lives of your comrades."

  "And what of the Akryd?"

  "And she, of course, must be destroyed."

  "And of the Crystal Trove?"

  "That must be reclaimed from the Temple of Athrak and brought into the light."

  "And we know where the Temple of Athrak is, and how to get in I assume?"

  "Well, we will find it when you have dealt with Ataxios." John continued to stare back at Gothrik as he replied,

  "So it's all very simple then, I slay the Akryd, I defeat Ataxios and then I find and rescue the Crystal Trove, is that it?"

  "Erm, yes, in plain terms," replied Gothrik,

  "So you know all the details? Good. Now, you're the strategist. Work out a strategy in order for all that to happen and tell me what it is, because from where I sit, it looks a pretty tall order, even for me, and I will continue to feel responsible for the lives of my comrades until I am satisfied that I have given them at least a chance of survival!" John drew the wand from its halter, and it shimmered in the moonlight. "This and my sword are all I have in order to complete my tasks, and Ataxios knows it. I will not lead you all into a death trap on the strength of my status as Wandmaster, alone. I want a plan; and I want a plan that would give us a chance even if I were not gifted with special powers. Suppose I am defeated by Ataxios, or made into a lo early on. What then?"

  Gothrik stammered, "B.b.but you are the Wandmaster! You can use the power of the wand like you did in Wandguard, from a distance without danger to yourself!"

  "Yes I am the Wandmaster. And Ataxios is….? And the Akryd is….? And how many Lo's and spindlies are there?"

  "All right, Wandmaster John," interjected Vilma. "I think we get your point, sit down Gothrik."

  John began to speak. "I did not want to offend you Gothrik, but I had to know just how carefully you had thought this through. I have a few ideas of my own that I would like to share, and if anyone has anything to add, then let him speak, but I am not going one step farther till we have at least the bones of a good plan." John was speaking in a clear steady voice. "What seems obvious to me, is that I have to stay in one piece in order to be able to carry out my tasks, and I know that it is in Ataxios's mind to make a lo out of me at the earliest opportunity. That would mean he would have me under his control, and presumably the wand also. This cannot happen. Therefore, our number one target is the Akryd. She must be destroyed first, and I wonder if Lord Menoneth can help our plans in this. My Lord, you have met with this creature before. Is there a weakness we can exploit?" Menoneth had been nodding his head in agreement at John's words, but he did not look up. He had been scratching in the dust in front of him with a twig, and his concentration was there.

  "Yes, I've had that misfortune. I have seen the process during which a Lo is created, and you will all remember that my son, Westroth, was made into a lo, though thankfully I was

  not present to see it happen. It is a horrible fate, and I swear that I will not leave this place alive if I do not kill that beast with my own hands, or at least see it done. It is an abomination and a curse on the Realm and it must die." His voice was heavy with hatred, and the hair on John's neck stood out involuntarily. Gilladen reached for his father's shoulder.

  "It has, as far as I know, no weakness, but it is always thoroughly protected and surrounded by guards, which gives me the impression it must have one."

  Vilma agreed. "Hmm, I have heard, and it seems to me a good possibility, that the guts holding the larvae are soft and elastic whereas the rest of the body is shielded with a carapace of tough shell. I don't know if it would kill the beast to have its belly opened, but it would certainly stop it from laying into anyone unfortunate enough to be captured."

  "How can we penetrate the guards to get close enough to find out?" asked Gilladen.

  "I have seen the beast on the Plain of Athrak, and I can tell you that there is a solid ring of lo's around her, all using some kind of hunting beast, like a huge hound, and then there are companies of spindlies around the outer rim of the Plain. I just can't see how we can get close," said John, shaking his head. "Gothrik, can you help us to solve this problem?"

  "As I said before, Wandmaster, you can destroy the beast with the wand. You will not need to approach, but can use the wand's power from a safe distance."

  "I disagree," said Menoneth. "If there is an attempt to kill the Akryd, even if it is successful, it will leave all the remaining lo's and spindlies free to return to Athrak. We need to keep them here in order to weaken the hand of Ataxios. I think your path should be towards Athrak with all speed, away from the Akryd, toward the crystal trove and not into her pincers. Can you open up a channel through the spindlies and lo's to the beast?"

  "I could divert them with a little dust storm, I think," answered John.

  "That would make things difficult for us too," commented Jet "but we could cover our noses to avoid choking I suppose."

  "It would give us another advantage too," said John. "It would be difficult for them to know which man was the Wandmaster if all had their heads covered. They wouldn't know if I were there or not. They will be looking for signs of the wand, so maybe I could conjure up a few fake sparkles to distract them, too."

  "It would mean choosing a beast killing unit, and a support unit that could open up the lines and fight off the lo's and spindlies while the job gets done," said Jet.

  "I've already told you I want that particular pleasure myself," said Menoneth, coldly.

  "I can't
allow you to take that risk My Lord," said Jet "Let me lead the unit!"

  "Your presence will be needed elsewhere, Jetham, you will have all the guardian force to watch out for. Give me three or four good guardians, and we will get the job done. Just keep the lo's and spindlies off our backs."

  Gilladen burst out, "I will come with you father!"

  "You will not! That beast has already ruined one of my sons. It will not have another! You will stay with the Wandmaster and be his closest protector. If you die, let it be in combat, with the Wandmaster's safety your only concern." Gilladen did not reply, but the side of his cheek moved as he ground his teeth in frustration, and he thought about his brother, Wes.

  As the deliberations continued, and the night wore on, the outline of a plan began to take shape. John was satisfied that, with their inferior numbers, they were taking every measure they could to maximize their chances. He was encouraged at Vilma's assertion that the folk of the Wildlands would be boosting their numbers, but Ataxios was all his, he knew that, and he hoped the crystal wand and the extraordinary powers it had bestowed on him in difficult times would be once again granted. But the uncomfortable truth was that he was the instrument of the wand and not vice versa. He would use what was made available to him instinctively and hope that whoever wrote the adventure book he was trapped in, knew that the hero always won in the end and that the villain had to be vanquished.

  The company eventually split up and went off to get some sleep, each wondering what his personal fate would be. John felt alone but determined, and strangely enough, fearless. The drumbeats of battle were stirring his blood and his heart rate must have been high, but what he was feeling was something other than fear, it was the call to arms; the call to duty, and he realized that never in his life had he been in such a position. The Realm was giving him a unique experience, and he was ready. It would, at the very least, make a good yarn, he mused, if he lived to tell the tale. With a rueful sigh, he closed his eyes and sank into a deep sleep, full of gruesome versions of his own death and those of his comrades, with Jazlyn being pursued by Nya and Westroth in a forest of thick trees with no escape. Her voice cut through his agonized attempts to reach her and save her from harm, "John! John, I am close. Hear me!"

  His eyes shot open. This was not a dream; it was communication. He sat up and answered, "Jazlyn!" and he tried to ascertain where she was, and what her condition was.

  Hurriedly, Jazlyn communicated an image of how she and her captors were approaching, and her fear that she was being sold out to Ataxios as a hostage. Then she was gone. He sat up and rubbed his eyes in the brightening grey of the coming dawn, and stood to stretch his stiff legs. There was no sleep now. As he stared into the cloudy east, he saw Vilma standing also, staring in the same direction and moved through the sleeping bodies on the ground to her side.

  "Did she reach you too?" asked Vilma, without looking at John.

  "Yes." Neither said another word, but John placed his hand on Vilma's shoulder, and despite her courage, Vilma's head drooped a little and a long worried sigh escaped her.

  "Your daughter is not a push over, and she will do her utmost to survive this, you know. I believe she is valuable to Ataxios, and that he will do her no harm until he is sure he has me in his hand, so I must make sure that doesn't happen, and if I live, I will get her back. She is precious to me, Vilma."

  "One day, when this is all over, I will tell you my story, John Stone. William Stone was Jazlyn's father, as you know, and yet you are not true cousins. I know a little of your family blood line." John turned from scanning the horizon to look at Vilma and waited for clarification, but none came, so he said,

  "To me Jazlyn does not feel like a cousin. We come from different worlds and had never met before. I only know that I feel complete when she's with me and empty when she's not."

  "My common sense tells me that your union would be a mistake, but on the other hand I remember how things were with William and I, and I know how useless it is to fight against such feelings. But you know you can never be together as you would wish? Even if you both come out of this alive, you will have to return to your own world. You cannot stay. Your life is a candle-flame, which flickers and burns in the Realm at the moment, but it will die here if it remains permanently. It needs to go back."

  "I can live in both worlds!" protested John. "I can go back for a while and then come home to Jazlyn!"

  "Do you think it's that easy? Do you think you can come and go as you wish? It is not in your hands, John Stone; it is not in mine either. Our realities are like two spinning spheres each with a doorway, whose movements are directed by chance, or at least by an intelligence which does not reason like ours, and certainly takes no stock of romance. They move erratically – or so it seems to me, anyway, and sometimes their doorways align allowing certain chosen individuals through into our Realm. You cannot appeal to their sense of justice or to their emotions; they have neither."

  John and Vilma watched the dawn of another day and John wondered if it was all some rule of physics that wasn't in the books they gave you to read at school. The limits of knowledge, he thought, shouldn't be bounded by books anyway; somewhere in all of us there is a little truth detector, which verifies or falsifies, and what he knew now was that despite all his logic, and all the improbability of his situation, he was, for the time being at least, truly the Wandmaster in the Realm of the smoky crystal, and it didn't matter how or why. He also knew that he loved Jazlyn. He needed no other truths. He would do all in his power to get her back, and if the fates decreed that he should then leave the Realm for good, at least he would know that he had given her a future, even though it would be without him.

  After breaking the night's fast, the guardians assembled and crept to the brow of the hill surrounding the huge Plain of Athrak. As they looked down into it, tiny trees and bushes like a child's model terrain for a train set gave a distant, unreal aspect to the scene, and it was clear that they were heavily outnumbered. Vilma assured them that her kin from the Wildlands were poised also for action, and it had been agreed that they would try to counter the outer rim of spindlies, which formed the perimeter defence of their enemies. It was also clear that they would not be able to approach the Akryd easily. They were under no illusions that they had come so close undetected, and their options were few. Their plan seemed inadequate, and their task enormous. John, looking for Ataxios, scanned the far rock face where he had seen during his visitation the bug-headed armoured form of his foe. But the rocks were bare. He sent out mental probes, seeking for confirmation of his suspicion, and then he was certain. Ataxios was not there. He scanned the sky and the plain for flyers, or for anything that could be Jazlyn. No. He could see nothing but the spindlies, the lo's and in the center, the huge form of the Akryd, straining on tethers and surrounded by attentive keepers.

  "Ataxios isn't here," he breathed to Menoneth.

  "Maybe he's hiding somewhere in a cave."

  "No. He's not here," shaking his head decisively, "I can feel his presence like a nettle-sting on my skin, but I'm not sensing anything, and that changes things."

  "We still need to put the Akryd out of action."

  "Yes, but you were right last night. My way lies elsewhere," said John. "I want Ataxios, and if he's not where the Akryd is, then that's even better because he won't get the chance to use her on me like he wants to. The wand in the hands of a lo in the service of Ataxios is not something we can allow."

  "But you can't go alone, Wandmaster."

  "Maybe not alone, no, but I don't think large numbers will help me either. You are all needed here. I would like to take a small team with me and go find Ataxios in his lair in Athrak. That's where he is. I feel it. That's where the crystal trove is and that's where Jazlyn is, so that's where I need to be." Gothrik gave a little smirk, and said, "So much for the plan!"

  John held his gaze and said, "Slight change of plan, only Gothrik. Everything's the same in the Plain of Athrak, but without me. Now, Lo
rd Menoneth, if I may, I would like to select my small band of helpers." Menoneth nodded, and John began,

  "Maylene," the tall, muscular friend of Jazlyn's who had once blushed every time he looked at her, but now teased him easily, having overcome her infatuation, "Joceley" her closest friend, a serious, lean dark haired girl, "Ethan," who was John's k'tchang opponent whenever they relaxed by the campfire, "Honeth" who had been Westroth's friend before his lo'dom and who was now devoted to John, after restoring his friend. "Mandrik", John's favourite sparring partner, "Zak and Todd," the more experienced guardians in the group, who had, in fact been given the mission of finding John and Jazlyn in the woods after their erotic escapade in Kinguard. Finally, "Gilladen." He was Menoneth's firstborn, brother to Westroth and Marny, and the first person John ever met in the Realm. Gilladen had received him at the portal into the Realm and guided him to Wandguard. As their names were called, the guardians fell in beside John, and he noticed Gill regarding him thoughtfully.

  "Any of those chosen who wish to refuse, will not be questioned as to why," said John, and stared back at Gilladen, steadily. None of them moved. Menoneth also looked thoughtfully from Gilladen to John, and having in effect lost Westroth, he was now placing all his trust in Gilladen to restore the family honour and do his guardian duty to protect the Wandmaster. Also, all his trust in the Wandmaster to keep his son alive.

  Gothrik, who now had a straight battle without the intervention of either the Wandmaster or Ataxios was soon in consultation with Jet, planning their attack strategy as the prime target was now the Akryd, and the facilitating of the attack squad led by Menoneth. Vilma's folk were in readiness and waiting for the signal to start their descent into the plain, and were prepared for the surprise John was planning in their aid. John and his companion group were ready to quit and begin their journey to Athrak, and felt both honoured to have been chosen, but pretty sure they would not be returning.