The Dragon Gem (Korin's Journal)

by Brian Beam

  “Looks like the honeymoon’s over,” Max whispered with a snicker. How did he know anything had happened between Sal’ and I? For a cat—I mean, rodent—Max has always been too observant for his own good.

  “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, but I was…distracted. You don’t have to go to the Academy with us. You can stay at an inn while we try to get some leads.” The look on her face hardened. It looked like I wasn’t going to be successful in keeping the hole from deepening. It was also looking like I may have been too quick the night before in judging her crazy-free.

  “Oh, I don’t have to actually go to the Academy? I can just stay at an inn while you all go?” Her voice was laced with angry sarcasm. “Do you really think I can take a step anywhere near Tahron without my father finding out? Do you really think that the greatest, most powerful wizard in Amirand doesn’t have those kinds of resources?” She ended her maniacal tirade with another ear-ringing slap to the other side of my head. “Korin—you—hmphf!” With that, she crossed her arms and looked away with her eyes narrowed and glistening.

  “Sal’, I…look, I have to find Raijom and I don’t know what else to do,” I explained over the ringing noise in both my ears, but Sal’ just continued to stare off into the trees with her jaw lifted into the air and lips pressed tightly together. Soft, pink, pouty lips that I would probably not feel again for a good while, if ever.

  With a resigned sigh, I turned back to our course. “Thanks, Max,” I muttered.

  “Hey,” Max responded defensively, “I was not the one keeping the plan from her.” I heard her grunt her acknowledgement to Max’s statement. I sighed again.

  Til’ was staring at me with a concerned look. “What?” I blurted.

  “You really shouldn’t make wizards mad, Korin,” he said in a lecturing tone.

  “Listen, Til’—” Before I could finish my thought, my body was literally jerked from the saddle onto the ground. Max had nimbly jumped from my shoulder to Sal’s to avoid my painful fate. His timing made it unclear as to which of the two wizards mischievously staring down at me had done the deed. Telis was completely unaffected and kept at a canter down the mountain. Stupid horse.

  “See?” Til’ called behind him as I stared at their backs disbelievingly. I could faintly hear him burst into his trademark chatter. Being Til’, he could be talking about what they had done, why they had done it, or why the sky was blue.

  I gently rose to my feet and brushed dead leaves off my backside—which I had fallen on yet again—and started after them at a fast walk. I could catch up easily enough, but I figured I should stay behind for a while and let Sal’ cool off.

  My thoughts turned to the previous night. Had I really started having feelings for her? At that moment, I regretted the kiss. I regretted letting myself think for a moment that I felt something more than friendship towards her. I was an Alysna—the goddess of love—blooded fool.

  Oh, who am I kidding? I wanted to run up to her and apologize profusely and tell her that we could find another way to find Raijom. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to feel those lips again. I wanted to…who knows?

  For the moment I found myself sulking behind them, hoping that her anger would have dissipated enough for her to at least talk to me when I caught up to them. Maybe she would realize that we didn’t have much of a choice in the matter of going to the Academy. If Max didn’t know how to find Raijom, I was damned sure to not know how either. That left going to the academy our only logical option.

  Around this time, we had made our way to the base of the forested mountain, the trees thinning out as we made our way to the Urdale fields with the McAlwain’s farm just a couple of hours away. I rushed to catch up to a now trotting Telis, having to settle for walking alongside the horse with Sal’ guiding Telis and Til’ sitting on the saddle in front of her. Sal’ continued to ignore me as Max jumped down to my shoulder. Til’ just prattled on about how being in the saddle was much more comfortable than sitting in front of it.

  “Sorry,” Max whispered with an apologetic expression. “I was unaware that you had not yet told her. Then I thought it was funny seeing you get chewed out. Now I just feel bad. We wizards can be touchy. Salmaea even more so.”

  I quickly glanced up to make sure Sal’ hadn’t heard him. The hole was deep enough already. “It’s okay,” I replied with a sigh.

  “She will get over it,” Max assured me. “Look, I saw you guys last night. I know you feel for her. Honestly, I do not know how smart it would be getting too close to her right now.” Max’s expression was condoling. At least he let on to how he knew about Sal’ and I. Sneaky little rodent.

  “You’re the one who always told me I should find a nice girl to settle down with,” I argued jokingly. He was probably right, though. Just being around me put her life at risk. And what if Raijom was successful in killing me? That would not be fair to Sal’. She deserved better.

  Max gave me a wry smile. “I said a farm girl. You know, one that can cook. If Salmaea cooks like she uses magic, she is probably not worth it.”

  I laughed, but cut off short when Sal’ shot an ireful glare at me. Maybe I wouldn’t have to worry about getting too close. I leaned my head closer to Max and whispered to keep Sal’ from hearing. “Max, do you really think we’ll find any answers at the Academy? I don’t want to go unless we have to. I mean, look at her. I expect her to set me on fire at any second. Literally.”

  Max lifted his head, his beady brown eyes meeting mine. “I have been there once before, back before you knew me. I did not find what I was looking for at the time, but I was also a cat who could not let on that I could talk or use magic without becoming a research study. Maybe with some human support, though, we can be successful in finding some leads if they are there to be found.”

  “What were you looking for when you went there before?” I prodded. Max looked away without replying. I dropped the subject.

  The green fields were hilly close to the Sanderon Mountains, but started leveling off after an hour. As the chilly air began to give way to a pleasant late-morning cool, the McAlwain farm appeared on the horizon. From our distant position, I could see there was no smoke coming from the house’s chimney. That seemed strange given the coolness of the day. Surely they’d have a fire going.

  As we neared, I could see the various farm animals huddling together in the corners of their pens. Sheep were pressed into a huddle at the far side of their pen. Cows were pressing into one another against a fence that looked about to snap under the pressure. Chickens clamored over one another to get over their chickenwire fencing. Pigs seemed to be trying to dig through mud to escape. All of the animals were terrified. But of what? My hand hovered near my sword hilt. Something was wrong. I took another look at the animals. Something was very wrong.

  I wasn’t the only one to notice. Max’s body was rigid as he surveyed the area. Sal’ had a hand in her wicker case and Til’ had his dagger in his hand. Telis did not scramble around in fear like the farm animals, but his legs danced around nervously.

  “I can sense something,” Sal’ said quietly. “I don’t know what it is, but it is some kind of magic and it feels…wrong.” Her eyes locked onto the red-trimmed cottage before us. Checkered curtains were drawn closed on the front windows.

  “What do you think, Max?” I questioned.

  “I think we need to be careful. Very careful.” Max’s head tilted quizzically. “In fact, I think we should just keep moving on towards Geeron.”

  “We can’t leave the McAlwains if they’re in some sort of trouble,” Til’ protested loudly from Telis’ saddle. If our presence at the farm had gone unnoticed so far, his shrill voice would have been an end to that. “Korin, we can’t,” he urged.

  “I know,” I replied. “We won’t leave until we know they’re okay.” Remember those morals I have? Well, part of those morals is not letting bad things happen to good people if I can help it. I wouldn’t leave the McAlwains’ farm until I had seen to it that
they were safe. That is, if whatever had the animals in a constant state of spookedness and had put Sal’s magic senses on guard hadn’t already made that task impossible.

  Til’ smiled down at me and Max gave me a solemn nod. Unbuckling the saddlebag flap that held down the sword Menar had given me, I unsheathed the magic sword. If we were going up against something magic, maybe it would make a better defense than my shortsword. Til’ slid out of the saddle, dagger in hand. Sal’ maladroitly swung a leg over the saddle, dropping down to her feet and completing our little army.

  I turned to the group. “Max, Sal’, you guys know magic the best. How should we approach this?”

  Sal’ was the first to respond, but sounded uncertain. “I don’t actually see any magic from out here, so if we want to even have an idea of what we’re dealing with, we’ll have to find it.”

  “I think it would be a safe assumption that the house would be the best place to check first,” Max ventured. “Obviously, I will be the one to scout ahead. I can get in and out more easily than any of you to find out what’s in there.”

  I nodded. He had a valid point. “Alright, Max goes in and we wait. Anyone have a problem with that?” Til’ shook his head vigorously and Sal’ just put a hand out to pat Max’s head. “Okay, then. Max goes in and returns with a report. Max, if you’re not back after a slow count to a hundred, we’re coming in after you.”

  Max gave us all an assured nod and leapt deftly to the ground from my shoulder, scampering towards the cottage, his bushy tail bobbing behind him. Getting used to Max’s squirrel form was going to take a long, long time. He quickly climbed up a post on the porch and scampered up the roof to the chimney. A second later, he was gone. I started counting slowly in my head. One. Two.

  “Korin,” Sal’ whispered.

  “Yeah?” Five. Six.

  Sal’ took a deep breath as if what she was about to say was not going to be easy. “I’m sorry. I kind of overreacted back there. You’re right about going to the Academy. I can’t let my hang-ups keep you from your quest. I just…I just want to be with you until the end of this and I’m afraid that if we go to the Academy, that will be the end of my involvement.” Twenty. Twenty-one.

  Well, at least she didn’t hate me. However, this was not the time for her emotional swings. “Sal’, your apology is accepted, but I’m not sure if this is the right time to deal with this.” Thirty. Thirty-one.

  “I know, but I wanted to let you know I was sorry just in case…” She trailed off, unable to express what I was thinking as well: just in case this was the only time she’d be able to. We had no idea who or what we were up against. Thirty-nine. Forty.

  “Just in case what?” Til’ chimed in, obliviously. Then, his expression turned grim as he answered the question in his own head. “Oh.” His mouth turned up in a grin. “Hey guys, if we can take on dragons and eldrhims, we can take on anything!”

  He actually had a point on that one. What could be worse than a dragon or a minion of the god of death? I gave Til’ a half-hearted smile and mussed his hair. He seemed so much like a child that the action felt natural before I remembered he was an adult. He looked annoyed as he smoothed his long hair with his free hand. Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight.

  My uneasy smile faded. “Listen, Til’. If we find ourselves against anything magic related, I want you to run, okay? Sal’ and Max are wizards. They can handle themselves. This sword should protect me. You would just be in danger.” Although I had been proud of all the little guy had done, his dagger would not do much good if we were up against the magic that Sal’ felt was “wrong”. Sixty-nine. Seventy. Where was that little squirrel?

  Til’ looked at me heatedly. “I’m not running,” he snapped. “If it weren’t for me, that eldrhim would have killed you. I’m not running.” He really emphasized the repeated line. Seventy-eight. Seventy-nine.

  “Alright, but don’t go rushing ahead of yourself. We need to know what we’re up against first.” That’s why we had sent Max ahead. He had been gone long enough to indicate that something was wrong inside the house. That or he got sidetracked by pork chops and gravy. My mind went back to the terrified animals. No, something was definitely wrong. Eighty-seven. Eighty-eight.

  My stomach tied itself in knots, my pulse sped, and my breathing quickened. Ninety-three. Ninety-four. I kept my sights on the house looking for a sign of Max. Ninety-six. Ninety-seven. He wasn’t coming back out. Something was undeniably very wrong. Very, very wrong. Ninety-eight. Ninety-nine. Not a sound had come from the cottage. What had happened to Max? One-hundred.

  “Let’s go,” I commanded. “I’m going in first.” If there was danger in the cottage, I was not going to put Sal’ or Til’ at any more risk than I had to. “Sal’, I want you right behind me ready to attack. Til’ you take the rear and make sure nothing comes up behind us. Ready?”

  I was answered by two resolute nods. Against the cold of the day, I felt myself breaking into a nervous sweat. If anyone or anything had tried to kill or hurt Max or the McAlwains, they were going to answer to me. Gripping the glowing sword tightly until my knuckles popped, I set off towards the front door of the house.

  Once we were all on the porch—Til’ and I with weapons in hand and Sal’ with a hand in her case—I leaned back and kicked in the door, not even testing to see if it was locked. Maybe we could have the element of surprise to our advantage. Splintered pieces of white-painted wood broke away from the door’s latch.

  We were greeted by silence. The dark-paneled entry was empty. All the shelved knick-knacks, books, and Undula’s knitting supplies were all in the same places I had seen them before. The fireplace was unlit and a chill filled the air. Everything looked normal. The only problem was that it didn’t feel normal. I didn’t need Sal’s ability to detect magic to know that something was off.

  “I still see no magic, but it feels stronger now,” she whispered cautiously from behind me.

  Glowing sword in hand, I started forward to peer around the corner into the kitchen. “Korin, wait,” Sal’ screamed as she put a hand to my shoulder. Her hand was ripped away as her body jerked past me around the corner as she screamed in terror. I heard her body slam into something. Til’ then let out a scream of his own as he was also involuntarily flung into the air, flying past me and knocking me forward to the ground as he did so. I heard him grunt as his body thumped against something as well.

  I had been knocked onto my hands and knees, the sword still gripped firmly in my hand. When I raised my head up, I realized that I had been knocked forward into the doorway to the kitchen. What I saw shot terror into my soul.

  Sal’ and Til’ were pressed into the back wall of the kitchen, their bodies turned sideways above the countertops lining the wall. Their heads jerked around frantically and only muffled sounds came between lips that were tightly pressed as if they could not open them. Their eyes held a mix of anger and terror. Movement above my head revealed James, Undula, and Kipp McAwain plastered to the ceiling in a similar fashion. Their eyes were wide with fear. They also seemed to be unable to move their mouths and could do little more than twitch their heads as if wrapped from neck to feet with rope.

  Hovering above the table in the center of the room was Max’s limp squirrel form. He was upside down with his face pointing towards the table as he rotated slowly, seemingly with nothing supporting his body’s suspension. His eyes were closed. Only the movement of his chest indicated that he was still alive.

  I took all of this in with my peripheral vision as my eyes rested on an effeminate man sitting in the wooden ladder-backed chair on the far side of the kitchen table behind Max’s floating body. His smooth, gaunt face was pale with red cheeks as if he were wearing rouge. His skin seemed stretched too tightly over his skull like a pelt on a tanner’s rack. Black hair swept across his forehead and over his right eye. His celestial nose and thin, pale lips rested below almond eyes the same orange as the glow of my sword.

  A high-collared blue coat, golden embroidery swi
rling around the outer edges, lay open, exposing a thin, hairless chest. The coat looked like it belonged on a noble, though no noble I knew of would be caught dead being shirtless underneath it. One hand rested under his pointed chin, while the other tapped its long, black-lacquered fingernails rhythmically on the striped tablecloth, making the man appear bored. His expressionless face corroborated his boredom. I couldn’t put an age to him, but his skeletal features made him look like an elder man on his deathbed. The stark black hair and smooth skin suggested otherwise. He stared directly into my eyes as if we were the only two people in the room.

  Slowly, I rose to my feet, anger welling in my soul. Whoever this man was, he had to be a wizard. Considering that he was binding five humans and a wizard squirrel all at the same time without even appearing to be trying, he had to be pretty damn powerful too. I wondered if this was Raijom finally coming to take care of me himself. All I cared about at the moment, though, was what he was doing to my friends.

  Before I was all the way to my feet, my sword violently escaped my grasp and flew over Max’s tail towards the man. At the last second, his bony hand left his chin and snatched the hilt from the air. My body suddenly locked into a rigid, straight-backed pose. The man calmly laid the sword onto the table and put his chin back into his hand. His eyes never left mine. I could only quiver with rage. I couldn’t move a muscle. I was helpless against invisible bindings holding me in place.

  My body started walking forwards rigidly—not by my own volition—and made its way to the chair across from the scrawny man. I faintly recalled Max telling me that such a use of magic was forbidden and punishable by a life spent in prison. Forcing someone to do something against their will could lead to very bad things. The man before me looked like he couldn’t care less about that.

  The chair before me pulled out without anyone touching it and I unwillingly plopped down into it. The chair slid forward until the bottom of my ribs pressed uncomfortably into the table. My arms were trapped beneath the tabletop.