Chapter 4
All Petitioners, along with their wands, were presented and ready when Jarvis entered the practice room. Jarvis, being the Wand Warden, was tasked with helping the Petitioners become acquainted with their new bonded wands. He was a man of many years and quite learned in the lore of wands and history. He was quite perplexed though when I first appeared in his storage room, so I knew there were limits to his knowledge. His puzzlement and interest in me stirred after seeing Dillard and I match.
Dillard and I lingered along the back of the group but did not escape Jarvis's attention. As he spoke to the attendees, Jarvis's eyes leveled on Dillard and me more often than not.
"Now you are paired with your wands, there are things that you will begin to realize. In particular, the fine nuances of your partnership with an instrument of magic and energy from beyond the physical plain." Jarvis looked directly at Dillard. "Perhaps even one of you will expand into a realm of bonding that few believe possible let alone capable of."
"He's talking directly to us Dillard," I said.
Dillard shook me, trying to will my silence. "Shut up Sparkle." A dog shakes dry the way he rattled his head. "Oh for the love of magic, I'm losing my mind. Why am I talking to a wand?"
"Ssh!," Prudessa whispered. "Must you talk to yourself while the rest of us attempt to convince the old man he can teach us something?"
The graveling of a throat brought Dillard and Prudessa back to attention. Jarvis gave us the one-eye and turned back to the assembly of mages.
"One thing is for certain," Jarvis continued, "Is that your bond will be tested and developed. You must not force the magic, but learn to work in collusion with your bonded wand. If you fail to work as one, even the simplest of spells may allude your abilities."
"Whatever," Prudessa huffed. "Can we just get on with the practice exercises? I have an appointment with the headmistress to discuss my theories on Modern Magic and the acceleration of the principals in metaphysical dynamics of magic."
There's one in every batch, I thought. The know-it-all was indeed a perfect fit for Bane.
"Patience—dear Prudessa—is the hallmark of the accomplished." Jarvis looked as though he had as much patience for Prudessa and her new-age ideas that most older mages felt. "You need to establish a fundamental platform based on proven techniques before you are able to develop your own methods."
With a look of arrogant superiority, Prudessa sauntered away with Bane in hand and began exercising their bond. I had to admit to myself that there was a connection forming between the two that I envied. But I wasn't ready to throw in the tinder. But starting a fire was far off if I couldn't even get Dillard to accept my mind joining his.
Dillard took us to our own practice space where he fumbled and faltered at getting a footing on blending his ability with my power.
Prudessa—on the other hand—flared with flashes of light and energy as she joined her will with Bane. It was slightly obnoxious but admittedly impressive at such an early stage in bonding. When she lifted Bane high above her and called to the air surrounding them, the lift she attained was nothing short of...well, a pain in my wooden underside.
"Not bad for a young upstart eh, Sparkle," Bane said. "Too bad your wizard is distracted with trying to talk to you rather than focused on magic."
"He is talking to me and hears me, Bane. I just have to convince him that he isn't going bonkers."
As soon as I let that information free, the other wands of enough experience began to mutter their shock and interest in the one thing they still believed. A wand and wizard could advance beyond the limits of a general bond and connect on a level that has only been achieved once in the history of wand-lore.
All the whispering and chatter of the wands began to irritate Dillard. I could sense the disturbance, even through the limited bond we were establishing. I reached out to soothe him, and he grabbed hold of my mind for just a tick. It was long enough to cast a spell to silence the voices in his head, including mine.
Chapter 5
How was I to join with a mage unable to see clearly the greatness locked away inside himself, not to mention the fact he's blocked out my voice. The connection was still forming, though slower than I'd hoped. There was yet a chance to make him listen—in his dreams.
That night, as I lay secured in my leather holster on Dillard's belt hung at the foot of the bed, I slipped into his mind. In his unconscious slumber, Dillard's mental block was down. I quickly became a part of his dream state. I remain fortunate it is the only time I had to attempt this. Some things cannot be unseen.
Pulling Dillard away from his illicit visions of Prudessa—yuck—I managed to grab his thoughts. You need to stop ignoring the truth, I thought to him.
"What do you want Sparkle?" Dillard said. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and reached for his belt. As Dillard removed me from the holster, his touch strengthened our connection.
"Accept the bond of our minds Dillard," I said. "This link is far rarer than you can imagine."
Dillard looked me over before shaking his head and began sliding me back into my sheath. "I can't believe you are actually talking to me. Maybe I'm just not meant to have a wand and do magic."
"You'll have to believe it sooner or later. Trust me when I tell you this is a good thing—or can be. In my very long life, I've only ever bonded this way with one magic user—my first bond actually—and it was beyond limits what we could accomplish."
Dillard's thoughts reeled and clouded. I couldn't tell if I was getting through to him. He wasn't blocking me out, so that was a good sign.
"Why me?"
Honestly, I did not know how to answer him at the time, but I had to tell him something. "Because there is something special inside you—something untapped."
"Right!" Dillard chuckled without mirth. "So special that it makes everything I touch turn to shite?" He started pacing the floor of his chamber. Dillard flicked he toward the torches in the room, causing them to flare and putter rather than burn steady and bright. "I can't even turn up the lights."
Dillard tossed me on the bed.
"Perhaps you are trying too hard. Stop fighting yourself—me—and see what you can do."
Dillard seemed to think about my words for a few minutes before returning to me. He pulled me back out and began twisting and waving me about. The sensation was what a human might find dizzying. To a wand, being flitted about without purpose is being a rattle toy in the hand of an infant.
Dillard continued to shake the splinters out of me, trying to force spells. None of his attempts amounted to much more than a few sparks and whizzes. He huffed and slipped me back into my holster before heading off to the day's exercises in bonding.
JARVIS LAID OUT THE session's exercises for working toward strengthening the partnership between each mage and their wand. After demonstrating a few of the spells, he instructed each pair to begin replicating them.
While the rest of each bonded set of wizard and wand worked well through the exercises, Dillard and I had...difficulties. When he attempted to create a fire, smoke streamed from my tip, covering us in a sooty mess. After an attempt to shoot lightning from me, he nearly electrocuted himself.
Energy scattered across his body as I went sailing through the air. Dillard gathered himself and patted down his stringy hair, static crackling. He readjusted his round spectacles and headed for my landing area.
Cursing as he retrieved me, Dillard slumped on the ground and put his head in his hands. "This is hopeless."
"There is always hope Dillard."
"How am I supposed to work with a sentient stick, Sparkle? It's like you are doing one thing and I'm doing another."
"Because you won't listen," I said and sent a shock into his hand. "You hear me, but you do not listen. And the next time you call me a stick, you'll not be sitting right for a fortnight."
"Sorry. I don't mean to insult, but-"
"Dillard," Jarvis interrupted. "Who are you talking to?"
; "Um...Sparkle," he answered and lifted me toward Jarvis. "My wand."
Chapter 6
"Come with me my good man," Jarvis said as he patted Dillard's shoulder. He took us on a winding path through the labyrinth of his shop toward the back. We passed racks and shelves filled with potions and ingredients, books and instruments. If you didn't know where the room was, you could get lost for days searching.
Jarvis led us through a doorway in the back of his shop. His private laboratory and chambers were filled with even more instruments and equipment, but the books on his shelves were far older-looking texts and scrolls.
"Tell me about this link you think you have with the wand," Jarvis said.
"Sparkle," Dillard said without me prompting him.
"Come again?"
"Her name is Sparkle."
"Ah yes, there was no name provided in her background papers. Come to think of it there was little provided in detail of—Sparkle's—origin."
Jarvis continued to provide what he knew about me. I showed up one day in the storage room. Wrapped in dusty and rotting linen covered in dirt and grime. He cleaned me up as best he could and did some cursory examinations to discover what he could about me. He discerned I was made from ancient Rowan—Druid Wood—but he could not find any record of me anywhere.
Of course, he wouldn't find anything on me, since I was in a deep sleep for a century before I woke and realized I had somewhere to be.
After he finished making me as presentable as possible, Jarvis put me in a display case where I sat for years before showing any inclination toward a pairing. The day Dillard arrived, I knew that was the day. Of course, I had no idea it was Dillard I was there for until I impulsively challenged Bane. Then I could sense Dillard's mind touch mine, and the path was clear.
Jarvis pushed through piles of books and materials until he found a dusty old tome. He dropped the heavy book with a thud that rattled the bottles on his table. After thumbing through the pages, he came upon a section titled, Ancient Rowan Wands.
"So, there is little here besides the footnote of the first wands believed to have been made of Rowan wood, but most were lost to decay, destroyed, or missing from records." Jarvis picked me up. "This is a rare privilege."
"Where do you think she came from then?" Dillard asked.
"If she hasn't told you—I suppose you needed her and vice versa. Wands are said to sometimes appear when and where they are needed, or so it's said in ancient wand-lore."
"Sparkle just told me she was sleeping until a few years ago. She awoke to an ancient call—wait she means an impulse—to be here and wait for her next bond-mate. It was an old impulse with a different—a new feeling."
"You are certainly different," Prudessa said from the doorway.
Both startled and annoyed, the bonded-pair of Dillard and Sparkle turned as one mind and snarled. Dillard stopped under Jarvis's warning eye and began to sheath me before Prudessa opened her sassy mouth again.
"So the old stick of yours slept herself into a slumber...she looks like it was a death sleep. And such a fancy holster you have, but it's a bit overkill don't you think. Sort of like putting lipstick on a pig."
Her laugh annoyed me more than the comment, but it was Dillard's added thought that caused the spell to take hold and hit Prudessa square in the forehead. As she dropped Wizard's Bane, her clothing fell to the ground while she disappeared into the falling folds of flamboyant fabric and lace.
A high-pitched squeal emitted with a muffled urgency from beneath the gown.
Jarvis ran to where Prudessa was formerly standing in superior presence. He peeled back the clothes to reveal a make-up painted young sow.
"She's even more indignant as a lipstick wearing pig," I said to Dillard.
We tried not to laugh under Jarvis's disapproving glare, but the wrinkled corners of his eyes and tremor of his lip couldn't hide his urge to bust a gut.
"Now you've done it," Bane said. "You better find someone to reverse this as I'm sure your witless wizard is incapable."
"I don't think I can reverse it," Dillard said.
"What-" Bane started "You heard that, mage?"
"Of course I heard you Wizard's Bane."
Jarvis looked at Dillard with wide eyes and back at Bane. "You're speaking with this wand as well? Remarkable."
Chapter 7
Jarvis sat at his desk thumbing through volumes about impulse-spell reversal. "How did you do it precisely? That is to say, can you recall what was going through your mind?"
Dillard explained how he merely thought Prudessa was the one who was a pig wearing lipstick, not Sparkle. "Sparkle and I just thought the same thing at once. Piggy-Pru."
Knowing that the spell was fueled by impulse and a single thought or image made it easier for Jarvis to reverse and set Prudessa right. He set the squealing Prudessa down and covered her with her own gown. Not wanting to add insult to injury, Jarvis would rather she return to normal with a small measure of modesty.
Jarvis retrieved his own wand forged from an ancient Oak. Thinking for a moment, he then waved his wand over the gesticulating gown before tapping the top and releasing his spell.
Prudessa returned to normal, her squeal morphing into a screech. "I'll see you sanctioned from magic for this Dillard—you dullard."
"Now Prudessa," Jarvis said. "You must realize you entered a private chamber uninvited or announced."
"So, what has that to do with my being assaulted?"
Jarvis scratched his chin and smiled. "You surprised us during an experiment when you entered without permission. These things can happen to trespassers."
After Prudessa gathered herself and her trestles, she stormed from the room and off through the maze of shelves. Her voice faded, but the echoes of Prudessa's discontent remained.
The reverberations of Prudessa's melodious chatter dissipated but was quickly replaced with the uncontrolled laughter of Jarvis and Dillard. I admit I felt a quiver in my core that would have resulted in a jovial chortle, but I knew the ramifications of what occurred. Prudessa wanted Dillard gone as much as Winterbell. And Wizard's Bane wanted to win our private challenge.
"What challenge?" Dillard heard my thoughts.
Having a mage mentally connected meant I had no guard against my general thoughts. I forgot what that was like. I had to explain the circumstances resulting in our pairing.
"So, you didn't choose me outright?" Dillard was both hurt and angered. Even a bit of insult layered within the emotional tidal-wave that flowed between our bond. "You picked me on a bet?"
"No...well not exactly." I had to reassure him there was a link.
Once I recounted the conversation Bane, and I had—along with the argument and merits of balance between bond-mates—Dillard was slightly less perturbed. The damage was done, however, and we lost some footing in our cooperative bond.
DURING THAT AFTERNOON's final exercises, Dillard was distant and inflexible. Every test and exercise became a battle of wills. While I wanted to assert my experience and knowledge, Dillard would overbear me with his new-age methods and practice. It resulted in more unpredictable results, forcing a wide berth given by the other bonded mages.
The more I pushed my point and attempted to guide his magic, Dillard would push back. At one point, a lightning bolt resulted from a simple flick meant to ignite a flame atop a candelabra. Poor Jarvis wouldn't be sitting comfortably for a few days’ time.
The more Dillard ignored the sound of my voice in his head, the more it opened his thoughts to the other whispering of wands. Unable to concentrate on spell casting, Dillard began to shake his head and argue aloud.
"Please be quiet," Dillard mumbled.
More than a few mages turned to witness Dillard's rambling—their own murmurs adding to those of their wands.
"I said shut-up already!" Dillard was glaring around the room, but his eyes were leveled at the wands.
"We aren't talking," One of the other mages said. "What is your malady?"
&nbs
p; "Not you, dolt, your wands. They are rambling on and chattering in my head."
Laughter replaced the shocked silence. The rumblings of madness and recriminations of false declaration to excuse Dillard's ineptness filled the room. More than one wizard remarked about talking sticks and wands just being tools, not sentient beings.
Dillard absorbed the empathic flow of the incensed wands, including me. His thoughts turned inward. How dare they insult their wands. They need to be taught a lesson. A single thought—no command as I remember it— channeled into each rod.
Sparks skated along all the wands, causing shock and wand-dropping pain in all the gathered mages' hands. The laughter stopped. Only the stunned silence from the possibility their wands were somehow controlled by another wizard remained.
"What is the meaning of this?" Mistress Winterbell stormed into the room, Prudessa smirking from behind.
Chapter 8
Chief Mistress Gretchen Winterbell, was the head of the Wand Guild. She was a towering and hulking troll of a woman. Her imposing stature and grizzly features were enough to melt warts off a frog. Many a rumor floated the institution that Jarvis must have mated with an ogre or found her in the rubbish. She was his daughter but nothing like Jarvis—not in form or disposition.
"Dillard Muckledun, you are again causing a commotion, disruption, and havoc in my institution." Mistress Winterbell stepped forward, staggered by the weight of Prudessa's foot on her gown-trail. "Ugh! Get off, you clumsy girl." Winterbell pulled her dress forward and stormed toward Dillard.
"I'm sorry Mistress," Dillard said backing up. "I can't help the voices. They cause distraction when I'm flustered."
Surprised, but not dismayed, Mistress Winterbell leaned toward Dillard. Her towering form casting a shadow that enveloped Dillard's willowy frame. "What voices? The wands?"
The Magical Book of Wands Page 17
