Wizard's Blood [Part One]

by Bob Blink

  Jolan couldn’t see how the man had suddenly become his King, but he wasn’t in a position to quibble. He had the attention of the only man in the Settled Lands that might be able to command the proper responses.

  Dismissed, Jolan bowed and turned to leave, but not before he noticed how intently the prince had been looking at him.

  Chapter 52

  The day after the ball Asari and Jolan visited the chemists to investigate progress with the samples of gunpowder they had ordered. Despite Jolan’s repeated attempts to tell Asari about the meeting, Asari had shown little interest. He’d have thought the King’s interest in Cheurt would have mattered, but Asari seemed more concerned that they had only the single day together this week and seeing to the powder results.

  The testing they could do was very limited, and consisted of placing piles of the various mixtures that had been made up on metal plates in the back room of the chemist’s shop and seeing what they looked like when they burned. Jolan was looking for something that burned very quickly and cleanly, rather than a slow or unsteady consumption. He didn’t know what he’d do if they all looked the same, but perhaps that would be an indication that the specific proportions weren’t that important. The tests at both chemists worked out the same, and Jolan liked the mixture with equal amounts of sulfur and charcoal. They ordered ten pounds of that mixture from each of the chemists for the next stage of testing and set off to look for a place they could make some noise without disturbing anyone. Such a place would be needed for the proposed testing the next week. Unfortunately they couldn’t pick up the barrels today because the metal-smiths were closed. Asari had had a look, and said they looked very good to him, but he wanted Jolan to look them over before he paid for them. They couldn’t use them until the following week anyway.

  Back at the College, Jolan started the week with a long meeting with Ward.

  “Anything new since we last met?” he asked Jolan.

  “No new spells, although I feel stronger. Also, I can sense my mind working its way through the block from Cheurt. I can’t explain it any better than that. Last night I had a bit of a dream of someplace I’ve never been before. I’m pretty sure it was Cheurt’s residence, but it was a bit vague and hazy. Maybe it’ll become clearer with time.”

  “I’ve set up a series of meetings with your independent study instructors. You will meet with one instructor mage each morning for the next several days. Between you and them, set up a schedule for your training, and by the end of the week get back to me. You are free to use the training room we were in the other day. More than anything, push yourself with all of your spells. ALL of them, understand? That is the most important thing to growing stronger.”

  Jolan was a bit surprised that Ward appeared to be encouraging him to continue with the firewrap spell. That was somewhat at odds with the official line, but by now he was realizing the feeling on such things was clearly not unanimous here.

  News of his invitation to the ball had circulated via the rumor mill within the College campus, and some of the older students who had not yet had their chance took offense at the premature opportunity afforded Jolan.

  “They’re giving you special treatment,” one of the student mages complained as he cornered Jolan in the lunch room that afternoon. One or two of the others were more outspoken and critical in their displeasure.

  “Yeah, he’s got some pull with the staff here. I’ll bet his advisor is using him to petition for early advancement. He thinks he’s a big shot because he’s supposedly from Earth and has his ring and staff. I’m not all that impressed, are you?”

  “I was only there because the King wanted to question me about my experiences with the wizard,” Jolan said, trying to be reasonable and defuse the situation. “It had nothing to do with favored treatment.”

  For whatever reason, his adversary had something he felt he needed to prove, and wouldn’t let the matter drop. Jolan finally decided it was best to simply leave, and stood up to leave. As his back was turned to pick up his tray, a solid mass of air smashed into him, knocking him sideways and sending chairs spinning and crashing out in front of him as he fell.

  Just before he crashed into the floor, he felt his shield come up, forming a tight barrier around him and cushioning his impact as he struck the floor. Jolan turned over, quickly using his staff he pushed himself away from the floor, then turned to face his adversary, shield still fully in place. His shield felt stronger than when he had tested it this morning, telling him that the staff was assisting. That meant things had already progressed to a state that was potentially dangerous.

  “Let it be,” Jolan said softly.

  The man he was facing was furious that his backsided slam with the air had so little effect. It made him feel impotent, and in front of all those watching. Without thinking he lashed out with a series of fireballs. He was a level four after all, and Jolan shouldn’t have resisted him.

  The balls of fire slammed into the shield Jolan had erected, causing the air around him to glow fiercely for a moment, before the energy bled away harmlessly.

  Faster than Jolan could think, his mind-staff pair reached out and wrapped the student mage into a binding of solid air, compressed and solid as steel, pulling tight and squeezing the air out of the man’s lungs. He tried to yell, but was so tightly wrapped he could barely squeak. Realizing the man was fast losing consciousness, Jolan wrestled control away from the staff and broke the spell, allowing the man to collapse onto the floor. He hadn’t known about that spell before now, but was glad his response had been non-lethal, although left a bit longer the collapsing band would have likely crushed the man to death.

  “Dragons, but that was fast,” exclaimed Ronoran who had come up behind Jolan after the man had collapsed. “I’ve never seen anything like this happen in all the years I’ve been here.”

  Jolan looked briefly at his friend, then made his way over to the student mage lying on the floor. It took only a moment to verify he was still breathing, then he turned and said. “Somebody go get a medical mage. I don’t know how bad he is.”

  “This means a disciplinary hearing for sure,” Ronoran observed when Jolan returned to stand beside him.

  “He attacked me.”

  “I know. I saw it. So did the others, so you’ll probably be fine. But they’ll have a hearing to decide that. Use of the power for fighting is really frowned upon.”

  Ronoran was correct. A hearing was held that very afternoon. A half dozen instructor-mages called Jolan and his attacker into the hearing room, along with several witnesses.

  “Of course the attacker is at fault,” said one of the instructors after people had had their say. “He will be disciplined accordingly. But Jolan’s response was too strong. He could have seriously hurt the man.”

  “He had to do something,” objected another of the staff. “Those fire balls should have killed him. I don’t know how he managed shields that were able to turn them.”

  “It’s that staff of his. We were told it had some special capability. It probably is responsible for the spell as well.”

  “Maybe he shouldn’t be allowed to keep that staff, at least here in the College?”

  Jolan was tired of all this fruitless conversation. He spoke without being recognized and received a number of frowns from the members of the hearing board.

  “This is ridiculous. Without my staff I would have been dead. I won’t even consider allowing you to try and take it from me. I’ll leave the College before I’d let that happen. I only protected myself, and instead of responding with lethal force, I only used enough force to stop the altercation quickly.”

  This wasn’t completely true. He knew better than anyone that he’d nearly killed the man, but this wasn’t the time to admit that. He’d also had time to consider the spell after talking with Ronoran who said he’d never seen quite that application of power with air. Since Jolan could sense somehow it wasn’t one of Cheurt’s spells, the origin was something else. It also didn’t fee
l like one of the spells that had just suddenly appeared in his mind. This was different somehow. He was quite certain it was something he’d created on his own, an on-the-fly variation of the firewrap spell, using air instead of flame.

  “Some kind of punishment seems appropriate,” said the lead board member, still giving Jolan a bit of a look for interrupting.

  Just then the door opened and in walked Chancellor Vaen. “This meeting is over,” she said. “I can’t believe what is happening here.”

  “There was a fight,” began the chairperson, but Vaen cut him off.

  “I have talked with enough people outside and I am very much aware of what happened. There wasn’t a fight, there was an attempted murder. Jolan, you are absolved of all charges. You however,” and she pointed at Jolan’s attacker, “are in a great deal of trouble. To start, you will be placed on Karonabark for the next month. A formal board of the council will be convened to decide if you are to be formally discharged from the College. Since your attack has criminal aspects, I will leave it up to Jolan if he wants to ask the King’s Court to hear charges against you. You are confined to quarters until I personally send for you. Clear everybody?”

  Scowling, and looking for the expected nods, Chancellor Vaen then turned and left the room.

  Well, Jolan thought. If the rumor was going around that he had pull in high places before, he could only imagine what the rumor mill would be churning out after this.

  Chapter 53

  Asari had found the perfect spot to run their tests, and they were about to see if the barrels would handle the pressure of the black powder that they had picked up from the chemists. The actions hadn’t been ready, which had set Asari to fuming, but in truth they weren’t ready for them yet anyway. Jolan had looked over the preliminary work, suggested a couple of changes, and handed them back to the clock maker.

  “Why did you stuff the barrels with cloth?” Asari asked.

  “I wanted something to resist the pressure buildup. We don’t have any balls made yet for the guns, and I wouldn’t want the balls flying around at random anyway. This will help see if the barrels can handle the explosive force.”

  They had four barrels, all smooth bore. The rifled version had yet to materialize. The barrels, filled with a charge of powder and packed in place with the cloth Asari had asked about, lay on the ground a goodly distance away. Jolan had selected the powder charge by holding a 45 auto round cupped in his hand and poured enough powder to cover the round. He remembered, maybe incorrectly he admitted to himself, that was one way of selecting a reasonable load with black powder. Now all that remained was to touch off the charges.

  “Ready?” Jolan asked and looked at his friend.

  Asari nodded and Jolan used just a small amount of the power to build a flame at the touch hole of the first barrel across the field. A sharp whoomp was heard, and the barrel jumped a bit in place. After repeating the process three more times they went down to look at the results.

  “Shit,” said Jolan upon seeing the results.

  Even without picking up the barrels he could see that all of them were cracked, one with a major split that extended almost halfway down the barrel.

  “Now what?” asked Asari with a dejected look on his face.

  “Let’s take these back to the metal-smiths and see what they think. I’d guess we need to beef up the rear end where the charge is set off. I don’t think we need to make the whole length thicker. That would start making the guns too heavy.

  Jolan was back at the dorms by the middle of the second day of the two-day weekend. Asari hadn’t been good company after their failure and they hadn’t been able to agree on how to spend the rest of the day, so Jolan had returned to the College. He hoped to be able to get started on another aspect of the development. Buris had told him he had the aluminum and had left it for him down in the lab.

  The equipment shop was surprisingly complete, and Jolan was easily able to form thin flat sheets of the aluminum and then cut small squares that he placed in a press to extrude the small cups. The problem seemed to be how to trim off the excess material, without completely ruining the cup in the process. He had more than a dozen of the mangled bits lying on the table in front of him and he had stopped to consider how he might proceed.

  “What are you doing with my aluminum?” asked a soft voice just behind Jolan. The voice was a soft silken purr of tones that felt like a caress as they brushed across his ears.

  Startled by the presence of someone when he’d thought himself completely alone, he jumped in response to the sudden unexpected awareness of the intrusion. Then he turned, the response already escaping his lips.

  “Your aluminum. This was especially prepared for me by Buris. What makes you think it’s yours?”

  “I’m the one who made it for him. He asked me if I would the other day, but was somewhat evasive about why he needed it. Buris isn’t usually like that with me. It made me wonder what he was up to.”

  Shyar slipped gracefully into the chair across from Jolan and looked at him, her eyes probing and intelligent. Amber in color, with flecks of something that looked like bits of shiny metal scattered around inside, they held his own captive as she waited for an answer.

  “I’m working on a special project,” Jolan said finally, trying to be evasive, but unable to think of a clever response.

  “Yes, a weapon. That seems obvious from what I’ve heard about you and the secrecy with which you and Buris have approached this. But why use aluminum? It’s so hard to come by.”

  “I couldn’t think of anything else that would work as easily.”

  “Show me what you’re trying to do. I have been watching you and you seem frustrated with your efforts.”

  So she had been watching him for some time, and he hadn’t had a clue she was around. He’d better learn to be a bit more careful, even though he’d felt secure locked away here in the back of the lab. He picked up one of the best of the small cups he had been trying to make and held it out to her. As she reached across the table to accept the small bit of metal he couldn’t help but be aware of her breasts swelling out against the thin shirt that was normally hidden under the baggy outer garment that now hung open. How had he ever missed that she was female?

  “This little thing is to be a weapon?” she asked with a hint of scorn.

  “No, this is just a small piece of a larger device. But I can’t seem to make it turn out as I want. I get the shape right, but when I try to trim off the excess aluminum, the shape of the cup gets destroyed.”

  “You mean this?” she asked picking up one of the more ragged examples he had discarded on the table and pointing to the ragged edge of aluminum that had flowed up the die from the extrusion process.

  Jolan nodded. “It needs to be flat, basically a small cylinder with the closed end at the bottom. I think I need the metal to be about ten percent thicker as well to give it a bit more structural strength?”

  “Can I destroy this one?” she asked, making Jolan wonder what she was up to. He nodded that it was okay. It wouldn’t serve his needs anyway.

  The bit of metal floated up from her hand and hung suspended a few inches in front of her eyes. Suddenly the metal cup opened up and resumed its flattened shape, a bit oddly shaped from where Jolan had inexpertly trimmed away excess metal. Shyar seemed lost in thought for a moment, then nodded to herself. She plucked the bit of metal out of the air and placed it on the table. Then she picked up a piece of the thick aluminum sheet and examined it. Smiling, she let loose of the sheet, that remained floating in front of her.

  As Jolan watched fascinated, the metal started changing shape. It folded over on it self and melded into a single flat sheet, twice as thick as before, but only for an instant. The metal seemed to extrude, become thinner and wider until she was satisfied. A small square of metal separated from the larger sheet, and began to form itself in front of Jolan’s eyes. Within a few seconds a small, perfectly formed cup of aluminum floated in space between them.


  “How about this one?” Shyar asked, indicating the object she had just created.

  Jolan picked it out of the air and made a couple of quick measurements. Jolan pulled out the iPhone and called up the calculator. After a bit of converstion he was able to calculate what he needed.

  “The opening needs to be .05 inches larger,” he explained.

  Shyar nodded, and took the small cup back from Jolan. It crushed itself and she set the material on the table with the other rejects. Then the flat sheet separated into numerous floating bits which quickly formed themselves into the desired shape. Within seconds Jolan had twenty of the little cups in his hand, all perfectly formed.

  “Is that enough?”

  “I don’t want to be greedy, but I was hoping to get a hundred of them.”

  A quick smile passed across her lips, and she went back to work. It was only a matter of a few minutes and he had the hundred primer cups he’d hoped for.

  “That’s incredible,” he said honestly. “Thank you. I don’t know if I’d ever have gotten there using the press.”

  Belatedly he held out his hand. “I’m Jolan, but you seem to know that.”

  Another quick flash of a smile and she extended her own hand. She had long elegant fingers, and her skin was smooth and warm, tan as if it was colored with just a hint of tanin.

  “I’m Shyar, but you know that also.”

  She hesitated for a moment, and then said softly. “I want to be part of what you are doing.”

  She looked at him earnestly, with just a hint of uncertainty. Jolan realized this was a one-time opportunity. He knew that Shyar didn’t participate in the normal activities outside of class, and it was exceedingly unlikely she ever asked for much. Yet here she was, desiring to participate in his experiment, somewhat doubtful as to whether her quiet request would be rejected. Jolan knew that if he refused, she would disappear like smoke, and he would never have a chance of obtaining her help again. More importantly, he knew he wanted to get to know her. He had reacted strongly to her presence, and already the thought of losing her goodwill alarmed him. It didn’t matter that he was trying to keep the project somewhat quiet. She already knew generally what he was up to, and besides, Buris thought enough of her to involve her. Jolan suspected Buris hadn’t told her what the metal was for because it was Jolan’s secret, not his own.