The Bowl of Souls: Book 05 - Mother of the Moonrat

by Trevor H. Cooley

  “Stop!” he exclaimed. The room went quiet. He kissed his mother’s cheek and Jhonate’s lips, then carefully began prying their arms off of him. “I’ll speak with you in a moment. Willum!”

  Willum was holding the axe, his brow furrowed in concern. “What happened, Sir Edge? The imp isn’t responding.”

  “Listen, the imp needs air magic or it will lose its bond with the axe. Is there an air wizard in here??

  “No,” Darlan said. “Locksher and Vannya left with Valtrek about an hour ago. I can call for them.”

  “No, we need air magic now and the imp can’t use mine.” Justan swallowed. There was only one other solution. “Where is my bow? It’s here in this room, I can feel it.”

  Jhonate lifted Ma’am from the side of the bed and handed it to him. “We brought everything you were bonded to. Alfred thought it might help.”

  Justan took Ma’am from her and was relieved to see that it was still strung with the dragon hair string. He unstrung it hurriedly. “Willum, take this bowstring. It’s full of air magic. Tell the imp to take what it needs.”

  “Justan, that is a rare gift,” Darlan warned.

  “I know,” Justan said.

  Willum took the string hesitantly. “Are you sure? I don’t know what it will do.”

  “Neither do I, but the imp helped me. I only hope its enough.” He looked at Jhonate, hoping she wouldn’t be offended that he had used her gift to him in this way. She looked at him with searching eyes, but she didn’t seem angry.

  “I-I’m not sure how to do this,” Willum said. He wrapped the string around the shaft and pommel of the axe and closed his eyes.

  Justan switched to mage sight and saw the bright golden glow of the string flare. Then with a small pop, the golden magic began to flow into the axe. The string’s glow ebbed and faded. After a few moments it was gone all together. The string was no thicker than a regular hair and when Willum tried to unwind it, it broke.

  Justan swallowed. The golden string had been in many ways his most powerful weapon. Now it was gone and the war wasn’t finished. “Was it enough?”

  “I think so,” Willum said. “It’s talking to me now. Actually it’s demanding I go kill some things with it so that it can absorb more energy.”

  “There’s nothing to fight right now,” Fist said.

  “Take it down to the kitchens,” Tolivar said. “See if they need any help slaughtering chickens.”

  Willum laughed. “It doesn’t think that was funny. Still, that might be all it’s going to get.”

  “Alright. Now that’s settled.” Justan said. He folded his arms. “Where am I?”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  “You’re in the Magic Testing Center, dear,” Darlan said. She reached out and smoothed Justan’ hair. “As you can see, your magic was too far out of control for you to stay anywhere else.”

  Justan ran his fingers up to the scar on his chest. The frost covered rune was still there. There was nothing more than a little extra scar tissue to show he’d been shot.

  Justan, Gwyrtha laid her big shaggy head across his legs. You were gone too long.

  “I know.” I missed you sweetie, he assured her. He looked at the others. “How long was I unconscious?”

  “A month!” Fist said. “Four whole weeks we been worried.” He frowned. “I mean, ‘we’ve been worried’.”

  “A month?” Justan couldn’t believe it. A month of time spent walking in circles? The pure waste of it gave him shivers.

  “Your mother has been taking care of you,” Jhonate said. She gripped his hand and her green eyes were intense. “Few other wizards were able to come near you. The rest of us could only visit you if she or Wizard Locksher was here.”

  “Did I hurt anyone?” Justan worried.

  “Not since we put you in here, no,” Darlan said.

  Justan swallowed. “And before that?”

  Darlan and Jhonate exchanged glances.

  “You must have wiped out twenty or thirty of Ewzad’s monsters,” Willum said enthusiastically. “I saw it. It was amazing! Huge towers of ice freezing them or falling on them. Your attack allowed us to get away.”

  “So we lost,” Justan said. He had thought it was the most likely case, but had hoped otherwise.

  “We were at a tactical disadvantage,” Jhonate said. “There were far more of those creatures than we had expected and our archers and wizards were rendered ineffective because of those shields they erected.”

  “I saw them,” Justan said. He hadn’t seen any shields like it before. “I didn’t know they had any wizards on their side.”

  “They didn’t,” Darlan said her lips pursed in irritation. “I would have seen them. Somehow they must have generated the shields in another way. Locksher has been looking into it, but as far as we can tell, they must have had a magical item of some kind that produced them.”

  “How bad were our losses?” he asked.

  “Nearly a third,” Tolivar said. He looked down at the floor as he added, “Over half of the Howlers.”

  “It’s not your fault, Tolivar,” Fist said sadly and Justan could tell they’d had this conversation before. “They wouldn’t stop fighting.”

  “They would have if I had been there,” Tolivar replied.

  “Berserkers always take heavy losses,” Willum said. “Tad the Cunning told us that was one of the reasons the academy disbanded them.”

  “Not while I was in charge!” Tolivar said and for a brief moment his eyes looked like the eyes of the Tamboor Justan had met in Ewzad Vriil’s dungeons, full of pain and rage. But the moment passed. He placed his hand on Willum’s shoulder. “Next time I will be fighting at their side. If I start to lose myself again, I will have you and Samson to bring me back.” He smiled slightly. “Bettie might just cheer me on.”

  “Two thousand men dead.” Justan shook his head slowly. That was more than had died during the rescue of the academy warriors. “How many of our men did I kill?”

  The room grew quiet.

  Jhonate gripped his hand. “Wizard Valtrek’s spy says that Ewzad Vriil was very upset about his own losses. He considered it a major setback. The majority of his changed men were killed, including his commander. He has been replacing them as fast as he can, but the witch has filled the gaps in their lines with goblinoids in the meantime.”

  He let out a slow breath and looked into her green eyes. “How many of our men did I kill?”

  “It . . .” Jhonate’s brow furrowed.

  “None that we know of for sure, dear,” Darlan said, patting his arm comfortingly. But Justan didn’t look away from Jhonate’s eyes. His mother would try to make him feel better, but Jhonate would tell him the truth.

  “There are too many men unaccounted for,” Jhonate said. “We cannot be sure. There has been some talking among the men. Your magic caused a lot of destruction and the journey back to the school was dangerous. There were . . . injuries.”

  “What happened?” Justan asked. He felt sick to his stomach.

  Fist spoke up, gesturing excitedly. “You were spraying cold stuff out of your chest and shooting ice out of your swords! Men were running to get out of the way. Monsters were freezing and breaking to pieces! Then Gwyrtha brought me to you and I pulled you up with me and we ran.”

  It was cold and you were hurt, Gwyrtha complained. She pushed some frantic memories through the bond; memories full of ice and roars and screaming.

  I’m sorry, sweetheart. Justan sent as he rubbed her head. He frowned. “Wait. Fist, did you say you pulled me up with you?”

  I got big, Gwyrtha said.

  “Yeah, she was big enough to carry me and you,” Fist said, smiling. “And Mistress Darlan.”

  “You did that on your own?” Justan asked Gwyrtha. He hadn’t known that was possible. Samson wasn’t able to do that.

  She nodded. I remembered how to get big.

  “I had to ride with them to keep your magic under control,” Darlan said. “The ice pouring from your
chest slowed down while you were unconscious, but it still burst out from time to time”

  “Some men were trapped by your magic,” Jhonate said. “But the wizards with us were able to thaw them. There were a few frost related injuries-.”

  “I almost lost two fingers!” Fist said, holding up his right hand. Two of his fingers were missing their nails, but they looked to be growing back.

  It was cold, Gwyrtha agreed. My tail hurt.

  “However, as your mother said, there is no proof of fatalities,” Jhonate assured him. “When you arrived back at the Mage School, your magic was still flaring out of control. You were taken here instead of the infirmary so that none of the other patients would be in danger. Your mother resigned as mayor so that she could care for you.”

  “Why did you go and tell him that?” Darlan said, shooting Jhonate a glare. She smiled at Justan. “That’s not exactly how it went, dear. I was only provisional mayor. I didn’t want the position anyway and there are other people just as qualified.”

  “They’re still arguing about who should replace her,” Tolivar said, his arms folded. “If you ask me, she is really the best person for the job.”

  “Nobody asked you, Tolivar!” Darlan snapped. “I never wanted to be mayor. I was only doing it for Tad.”

  “Are you sure? You’ve always liked being in charge, Darlan,” Tolivar said. His mouth was twisted in amusement.

  She scowled. “I like it when things get done properly. Sometimes it means that I need to kick a few butts to make sure things happen. That doesn’t mean I enjoy it. I find it damned irritating when people can’t do their job.” Her hand flew to her mouth and she shot Justan an embarrassed glance.

  “Right.” Tolivar chuckled. “Well, speaking of jobs, Willum and I have wall duty tonight. We should get going.” He nodded to Justan. “I’m glad it worked.”

  “Thank you for helping me,” Justan said and looked to Willum. “Willum, thank you for helping. I’m sorry I came so close to killing your imp.”

  “You saved him,” Willum said. “I’m sorry about your bowstring.”

  Justan shook his head. “Just tell him that if he ever breathes a word about the little joke he played on me, I’m sending the Scralag into his world.”

  Willum looked extremely curious, but he just said, “I’ll tell him.”

  Once the two men had left, Justan looked to the others and sighed, “I’m sorry I’ve been so much trouble.”

  “Don’t you worry about it,” his mother said, leaning in to hug him. “You heard what I told Tolivar, this is what I wanted to do.” She kissed his cheek and stood back. “Besides, I have been able to get back into doing things I actually enjoy.”

  “She’s been teaching me magic!” Fist said with a wide grin.

  “Really?” Justan asked, giving his mother a surprised look.

  “We’ve been here in the testing center with you anyway,” Darlan said. “I simply requested the room next door and took over Fist’s schooling while you were . . . away. I figured he could use some training from a war wizard.”

  Justan liked the thought of the two of them spending time together. “How is he doing?”

  “He learns quickly,” she replied, smiling at Fist proudly. “He struggles somewhat with the more scholarly aspects of school here, but he has an instinctive grasp of the way magic works.”

  “I can make my mace lightning!” Fist said.

  “I have taught him some basic war spells,” Darlan said. “He can worry about theory and mathematics and runework after the siege is over.”

  “Wizardess Landra was okay with this?” Justan asked. Landra took her job as assigner of classes quite seriously. No student dared step on her toes and any wizard that tried to override her got the sharp edge of her tongue.

  “She was resistant at first, but we came to an understanding,” his mother said matter-of-factly. “I spoke to Valtrek and we convinced Master Latva and Beehn that Fist is a special case. Randolf and Auger were against it, but I was able to convince Munsey and they were overruled. We skipped this whole cadet nonsense and raised him to rank of apprentice. Then when I brought the decision to her, I told Landra she could burn for all I cared and since I was the one who taught her the job in the first case, there was nothing she could say about it.”

  Justan’s jaw dropped. “You convinced the council to make Fist an apprentice? After a month as a cadet?”

  “It wasn’t easy to say the least,” Darlan said. “I’d forgotten how much the council drags their feet. It took me two whole days to convince them to make the right decision.”

  “You stood before The Bowl of Souls?” Justan asked Fist.

  “That wasn’t necessary,” Darlan said before Fist could answer. “We’re at war here. The advancement ceremony is nothing but a symbol of the Mage School’s arrogance. It’s not part of The Bowl of Soul’s true purpose. They started doing it a hundred years ago to make it seem like advancing in rank was a bigger deal. I find it offensive to tell you the truth. The Bowl of Souls is for naming, not for prancing about in front of.”

  Justan was used to his mother’s long winded opinions, but this one surprised him. If he hadn’t gone through the advancement ceremony, he wouldn’t have dipped his dagger into the bowl. Then again, perhaps that proved her point. The bowl’s purpose was naming.

  “So . . . you took Fist on as your personal apprentice?” he asked.

  “She’s a really good teacher,” Fist said.

  “You don’t need to blow sunshine at me, Fist,” Darlan said.

  “Yes, Mistress,” Fist said obediently.

  “I believe that I am the best teacher for someone of Fist’s talents,” Darlan said. “The main skills he needs to know are healing and fighting. Those are the ways he can be of best use to you. And Squirrel, of course,” she amended.

  As if on command, Squirrel leapt from the headboard of the bed to Darlan’s shoulder. Justan hadn’t realized Squirrel had been there. Darlan noticed his surprise.

  “Squirrel has been keeping an eye on you for me when Fist and I are next door,” Darlan said and reached into her pocket to hand Squirrel a cracker. “Good boy. Now don’t you get any crumbs on me, understand?” Squirrel nodded and began nibbling the cracker very carefully.

  “But if you-,” Justan began.

  “Enough about what we have been up to,” Jhonate said sternly. “Tell me what happened to you.”

  Justan noted everyone’s expectant stares. “Well, I . . . It is a bit difficult to explain.”

  “We know that you were trapped in that rune of yours with the Scralag,” she said. “What were you doing all this time?”

  “For most of the time, nothing,” Justan said honestly. He told them what had happened, only leaving out the part where the imp had him convinced he was a woman. He ended with his words to the man inside the Scralag.

  “Do you think it will work?” Darlan asked. “Do you think you’ll be able to communicate with the elemental?”

  “With the wizard inside it, yes. I plan to work on it at least,” Justan said. “What I really need to do is find out what the key to the book is.” An idea came to his mind. “Mother, the man said something to me at the end that seemed important. He said, ‘Your grandfather would be proud of you.’ Do you know what that could mean?”

  Darlan’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. “I suppose he could have been one of your grandfather’s contemporaries. My father never mentioned having any wizard friends himself. He was a fighter.” She gave a slight smile. “He was always worried that his lack of magic would pass down to his children. He was so glad when I had my awakening, he wasn’t even angry that I burned the barn down.”

  Justan felt a surge of irritation, but he pushed it down. Since finding out his mother was a wizardess, it seemed like all her stories were new. She had hidden so much of her life from him. “Think of it this way, mother. Were there any powerful frost wizards around when grandfather was? Any strong enough to leave an elemental behind?”
>
  She shrugged, “There were a few frost wizards around. None that powerful that I can remember, though. It was nothing like back in your great grandfather’s day. Now he was a powerful frost wizard.”

  “Great grandfather?” Justan’s eyes widened. “You just said he was a traveler. Why didn’t you ever tell me he was a wizard?”

  “I was in hiding. I didn’t want anyone to know magic ran in our family. If you told someone your great grandfather was the great Frost Wizard Artemus, they could have figured out who I really was,” she said.

  “You should have told me,” Justan said. He would have figured it out by now! “You should have told me all of it! I wasn’t a stupid child. I wouldn’t have told your secret!”

  “I was well aware of how smart you were, dear,” she said. They’d had this discussion several times since arriving at the Mage School and it was a sore subject. “Children can’t keep secrets. Believe me, I have seen it enough times to know.”

  “I would have!” Justan grit his teeth. “I shouldn’t have had to wait until I was twenty to find out that my mother was the War Wizard Sherl!”

  His mother’s face went red. “I’m sorry, Justan. I-I don’t know what else I can say.”

  Justan threw back the blankets and swung his feet over the bed. Jhonate gasped and turned away. Justan paused, glad to see that he was wearing his small clothes.

  “Thank you for taking care of me, mother. This is the first time I’ve awoken from an injury to discover I wasn’t completely naked.” He whistled as his feet touched the frosty ground.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Darlan demanded.

  “I need to go see Professor Locksher. Please tell me my clothes are in here somewhere.”

  “They are over here,” Jhonate said. She kept her eyes averted as she handed them over. Justan pulled on his pants.

  “I don’t like this, son,” Darlan said. “You have been through a lot of trauma. You should rest.”

  “I’ve rested for four weeks!” Justan replied. He pulled on his boots and stood as he tucked in his shirt. “This can’t wait.” He hoped she wouldn’t call him out on that. It wasn’t necessarily true, but he didn’t want to wait.