Wizard's Blood [Part One]

by Bob Blink

  “More mysteries,” said Jolan as he was handed the object once again. He reached out to give it to Luzoke, who shook his head. “I don’t want it. I don’t like things I don’t understand.”

  Jolan held the object out, and after a moment Nerila reached out and took it. “I’m sure it’s harmless. Maybe we can find out something about the history when we get home.” So saying she slipped it into a bag she always carried over her shoulder.

  “We’d best get moving,” Jolan said. As everyone walked over toward their horses he turned back and destroyed the bodies of the two men and the horse with a touch of intense fire. He’d be damned if he would waste sweat burying the remains of someone that had been part of the attacks that had taken Shyar. Despite his earlier suggestion to kill the final attacker, he looked a little sick as he watched the bodies burn. It was the first time some of them had seen men die first hand, but Rifod and Nerila had good reason to not be concerned about the men that were associated with the group that had almost killed Rifod a few months back.

  Once they had all mounted, they turned as a group and started back-tracking the couple of miles required to return to the path they had been taking when Jolan diverted them to test the following party of wizards.

  “Did anyone get that freeze spell?” Luzoke asked. “Did you see the trees around the spot Jolan and I were standing. They were frozen solid and brittle. The leaves had all dropped off, the trees already dead. Even the rock was bitterly cold.”

  “I saw what he did, but it was above my level so I couldn’t capture it,” Ronoran said.

  Rifod and Nerila had been down out of sight, and hadn’t caught it either. They were only one level above Ronoran anyway, so they might not have been able to catch it either.

  “That’s unfortunate,” said Jolan. “I would like to have had a chance to study that one a bit.” Still, realizing what had been done, he suspected he just might be able to figure it out for himself. He wasn’t bound by the College’s reluctance to try out a few things on his own.

  They had made the turn back onto their intended route and were riding quietly when Jolan slipped back and rode between Rifod and Nerila.

  “You guys did a good job back there,” he said.

  “We probably shouldn’t have let Asari take that second shot, but Ronoran was watching and said we had time.”

  “It worked out well. You have to be able to adapt to the situation, and by letting him bring down the horse we stopped him from getting away. I don’t know how long it would have taken to chase him down otherwise.”

  “Once that last wizard seemed to disappear, even Ronoran wasn’t about to drop the shields again,” said Rifod. “It was good thinking on Asari’s part to use one of his special bullets.”

  Jolan nodded. “Asari has great instincts. He’s kept me alive before.”

  They rode a bit further until Jolan finally raised the matter that had brought him back there.

  “I’m surprised you know about the compulsion spell,” he said. “I thought it was something that wasn’t studied at the College.”

  Nerila smiled wanly. “When we came back from the wedding there was talk that Ale’ald might be using compulsion, but no one seemed to know much about it. It seemed like we should have more awareness if we hoped to be able to counter it, so I started researching it. I didn’t get that far before we left, but I learned enough to know it can be quite effective. It’s a nasty business poking around inside someone’s head.”

  “Tell me,” Jolan said. “I’ve had the pleasure personally from Chuert, and I didn’t like it much.”

  “Don’t worry,” Nerila said. “That man will do as I said, if that’s what’s worrying you.”

  “I wasn’t worried,” Jolan said, although he still had a bit of a nagging doubt. “I just continue to be amazed at the odd little talents that seem to pop up among our group. Also, I just wanted to thank you again for coming. You’ve already proven you bring something to this group that no one else can.”

  With that he smiled and spurred his horse, returning to the front where Asari continued to lead.

  * * * *

  The next week was uneventful, and the land had started to rise steadily as they approached the mountains. Game was plentiful out here, with many streams and a number of small lakes that made for pleasant camping each day. Asari was quick with his bow and kept them supplied with fresh meat. Jolan found the Bintas fruit he liked so much very plentiful here, and would frequently grab one off a nearby tree and eat as they rode.

  They had kept a careful watch, but there was no sign of any other pursuers, and they finally became convinced they were traveling alone, except for the frequent birds and a variety of small animals that scurried through the grasses at their approach. The large game Asari brought back each day seemed to hide at their advance, but somehow he knew where to find them.

  In the distance to their left was a series of truly impressive peaks, still covered with snow although they were into summer now. Rifod said the peaks would remain snow covered all year, the snow on the tops never melting. Off to the right was another range of mountains, not quite as high, with only small patches of snow showing on the highest of the peaks. Ahead there appeared to be smaller mountains, and Rifod said that was where he and his friends had passed through some years before. They would still have a bit of climbing to do, but the path wasn’t anything to be concerned about.

  The next day they started to see signs of old volcanic activity, with large clumps of dark rock poking through the grasses in the fields on either side, sometimes covering a whole field where almost nothing grew. As evening approached Rifod told them of a deep clear lake ahead and they adjusted their path slightly toward the spot he thought it was. Well before sunset they came over a small rise to see the half moon shaped lake spread out before them. It was quite large, and the deep blue water looked out of place in the midst of all the blackened ground, but there was a large green patch on the far side where they could camp.

  There was something about the lake that tickled Jolan’s mind, but he was unable to dig out the memory, and finally stopped trying. He could see where the lava had flowed down the far hill and spilled into the lake on the other side. The rock extended deep into the water until it faded from view. The lava flow had clearly changed the appearance of the lake, partially filling the one side and leaving the crescent moon shape as a result of the cooling rock.

  “Do you really think we’re going to find anything over those mountains?” Asari asked. “Rifod has been pretty certain it’s all desert there.”

  They were sitting on a small hill just behind the camp, looking down on the others and watching the lake. Only one of the moons was out tonight, the middle one, Kinor, and even it was off toward the horizon at the moment.

  “I hope so,” Jolan replied finally. “If not, then. . .” He let the sentence trail away. If not, then what did they have left? He’d said they would go after Cheurt in Ale’ald, and maybe they would, but without some advantage, that was a mission doomed to fail. He was still pondering the matter when Asari nudged him sharply.

  “Look,” Asari whispered.

  Jolan wasn’t sure where he meant, and wondered if someone had found them after all when Asari whispered, “the lake.”

  Deep in the waters, impossibly far down, he could see the glow of lights. It was too distorted to make out any shape or pattern, but it was clearly coming from deep under the water. It was no reflection as he’d suggested to Asari those many months before. Now he knew why the lake looked familiar.

  “Dragon’s Hole,” he said quietly as Asari nodded his head.

  “Another one,” Asari agreed. “It’s like I told you before. The lights shine from the depths far below. Why would there be two?”

  Jolan wanted to respond with his own question. Why would there be even one, he thought, but he simply shook his head.

  They watched until it was time to turn in, but the lights never changed. Asari thought it had to be a sign, but
whether it was a good one or a bad one he couldn’t decide.

  The next day there was no longer any doubt they were climbing into the mountains. Looking back they could see for many miles, and could make out some of the landmarks they had passed on previous days. Ahead their view was restricted to the next mountain, which then gave way to the mountain beyond. They lost the path that Rifod thought he remembered, and after a few false turns got back on to an approach that looked promising.

  “I think we came through on the other side of that mountain,” Rifod guessed when they stopped to water the horses. It was clear he wasn’t certain. It had been a few years ago and they were headed in the opposite direction to what he’d traveled which made things look different. As a group they voted to continue on since their current path looked clear, and after another week of up and down, they stood atop the last peak looking down into the land that extended into the seemingly endless desert beyond.

  The land looked green and inviting for now, but not too far out they could see how the land suddenly started to change. It was smooth and tan as far as they could see.

  “Desert,” said Rifod. “From here all the way to the ocean it’s desert. I researched it once, but the records don’t agree. Some say it was once a fertile area, and something that happened during the war changed the land. Other records suggest it has been a dry wasteland for all of recorded history. The path I took was straight ahead to the sea. You will have to decide from here where we are to look. As you can see, there are few clues and no sign of a great city. I’m sorry Jolan.”

  Chapter 84

  Jolan had never been a fan of the desert, and after more than two weeks of trekking through the dry, barren, and unproductive sands in search of the elusive Ygooro, Jolan hoped he’d never have to visit one again. Twenty-three days now, and no sign of their search coming to an end. His eyes ached from searching the horizon for some sign of something. He wasn’t even sure of what the something was that he was looking for, which was one of the things that made the search so miserable. They all looked for anything that might be a clue that more was hidden nearby, but all they found was more of the endless shifting sands.

  In a few places the ground was hard, littered with a variety of small rocks that caused the horses to step carefully lest they bruise a hoof. In places such as these there might be a few of the small and rugged little bushes that grew almost a foot high and which displayed liberal quantities of long sharp thorns. Jolan wondered how the damn things found enough water to survive out here, since they hadn’t seen a hint of water since coming down off the mountains. Small brownish colored lizards darted quickly from one hidden spot to another, limiting their time in the open expanses, but what they were hiding from he could only guess. He’d seen nothing that should be a threat to them, not even the birds soaring high above that might consider them a meal, and he knew they survived here by eating the numerous bugs that pursued them relentlessly as they wandered across the land. He had no idea what brought the bugs to a place like this. The only other living thing had been the occasional snake, long and thick and deadly looking, and quite poisonous according to Rifod, who knew of them from his previous trip. Perhaps the snakes lived on the lizards and that’s why they were so cautious. At least Jolan had the ring that could cure any of them easily enough. If he were bitten he’d have to let someone else use the ring on him, since he’d learned that he couldn’t use it to cure himself. Anyone with the power level three or above seemed to be able to use the ring equally well. The ring needed a conduit to the power, but didn’t need someone skilled to perform its miracles, as Jolan had discovered the one time he’d used it.

  Most of the land they worked their way across was not hard packed dirt, but thick soft sand, that dragged at the horses hooves, sucking the energy out of them as they made their way across vast expanses of the stuff. Nothing grew in these spots, and the sand looked as if it shifted from place to place at the whim of the winds. Not even the little bushes tried to survive in the shifting sands, which were what covered more than ninety percent of the land they’d crossed since coming here.

  They had been working a grid, criss-crossing the desert in a pre-established pattern hoping to cover as much territory as they could, with as wide a spacing as seemed reasonable. Each time they came to a small rise in the undulating landscape, Jolan hoped that something might be revealed, hiding in the small dip in the desert that had prevented them from seeing it until they reached that particular spot. Of course, it never happened. Each time they crested a small rise, all they could see was more of the endless sands.

  That was what Jolan had come to hate the most. He could see for miles and miles. Sometimes he thought he could see for twenty miles or more. Whichever way he looked he could see there was nothing out there. The city he sought was nowhere in evidence. At the rate they traveled it meant hours had to pass before they could cross the empty land they knew did not contain the place they sought, yet they still had to cross it to get to the next area. Of course, even though their bloodshot eyes told them nothing was there, they could be wrong. The rolling land could actually be hiding what they wanted relatively close by, but hiding it from sight until they were virtually on top of it. He’d read a lot of Louis L’Amour stories as a youth, and recalled the master storyteller had commented that in this kind of terrain you sometimes had to be right on top of something before it would stand out so it could be recognized for what it was.

  Asari frequently raised the battered binoculars that Jolan had given him so long ago, searching carefully into the glare of the sunlit desert, but to no avail. They searched ahead of them, as well as frequently checking their back trail, knowing that a scene looked different depending upon what angle it was observed. Jolan knew the time of day could change how things looked, but they couldn’t view every location at whatever times they pleased. They had to go with chance. He recalled an old windmill out on the plains where he’d often hunted prairie dogs. At some sun angles the tall structure stood out clearly, easy to see from any angle, and at other times of the day you couldn’t see it even knowing exactly where the damn thing was.

  Jolan knew this wasn’t the way this should be done. He needed an airplane so that he could search from above and cover a reasonable area in a short time. They could have searched everywhere they’d been in the last two and a half weeks in a single day with a small plane. He had expected the city to call to him, and pull him in the right direction. Either his ability had failed, or it didn’t work that way, or worse, there was nothing here as Rifod had told him many times in the past.

  Rifod had not said a negative word since they had started the search. All his friends had been more supportive than he had any reason to expect. Each day they arose early looking more tired than the day before, rising without complaint to a meager breakfast and a bit of tepid water. They’d mount their horses and began again a long day of useless searching. The horses were more reluctant than their riders, and had to be pushed hard each morning to get them started again. Then they wandered slowly, heads down in the hot sun. Often the riders had to dismount and make their own way along with the animals, their feet dragging through the tiring sands. At least they were immune to the heat, all except Asari, but he had soldiered on, never complaining, although his shirt was often soaked by the end of the day, and he drank three times as much water as any of the others.

  Today would be one of the better days. They had planned the grid so that every five days they returned close to the mountains. This allowed them to refill water bags from the streams in the foothills and hunt for fresh game giving them something more enjoyable than the dried meat they carried with them. The maps had suggested that the city was closer than two and a half days into the desert, so they were certain they had gone far enough from the hills to be sure they weren’t missing anything. If it was really further into the desert than that, then their task was truly hopeless. Tonight they would sit around the fire and relax after lying in the cooling water of one of the streams
and washing away the worst of the dry sand that had slipped into their clothes and covered their skin.

  “Something off to the south,” said Luzoke and he pointed in the direction he had been looking.

  “Sandstorm,” said Rifod who looked long and carefully in the indicated direction. “Coming this way too. We’re in for another blow.”

  This would be the third since they’d been here. The storms were often fierce, the winds hurling the sands at high speed, and shifting the look of the land when they passed. They set up a small camp and erected anchored shields that they all supported, giving them a large enclosure that protected them and the animals and sat them out. There was no point in trying to ride through one of the storms. Even if they could do so protected, you couldn’t see ten feet. Not only could you lose your direction but you could pass by the city and never see it.

  “How long?” asked Jolan. Rifod seemed to be good at predicting the sand’s arrival.

  “Twenty minutes, maybe a bit more,” he replied after another look.

  “Let’s ride another ten, then set up,” suggested Jolan. “We might as well cover as much ground as we can. It’ll put us that much closer to the hills after it passes.”

  Like the others, Jolan was looking forward to a bit of green and a dip in the waters of the streams.

  * * * *

  This was the worst of the storms they had seen. It had been blowing for more than two hours, and even if it were to pass right now, it was unlikely they would be able to reach the hills before dark. That meant another day on the flat, and when they reached the hills tomorrow they’d have to decide if they wanted to waste most of the day, or simply replenish their supplies and move on.

  Jolan was about ready to admit he’d made a mistake. Even if the city was out here somewhere, they could search for years the way they were going about it and never find it. Without something to guide them, the task was almost hopeless for such a small band.