by Mike Shelton
Roland decided that he would have to fight this evil man himself—holding him off—until the others succeeded. That was his duty. He would have to wait for his body awhile longer.
Roland grabbed his physical head once again and pressed his hands to it with force, saying, “Tam, keep my body alive. I will return.” He heard his voice come out in his bedroom as only a soft whisper.
Tam gasped and said, “I will, Roland. I will.” The man had tears in his eyes.
Then Roland let go of the physical world and felt himself rushing back into the darkness.
“Aaah, there you are,” the deep, dark voice said as it came closer through the darkness.
Rather than a flash of light, Roland now saw a dark spot, darker than anything else he had ever seen. It absorbed all the light around it. But Roland stood his ground and pulled all the magic at his disposal into himself. Then he reached his mind out to find the lights and pulled power from each one of them, for he had to hold off this evil.
Out of the darkness swirled a man, taller and broader than Roland, dressed all in black. The man’s face was shadowed, and tendrils of black power snaked around him and reached toward Roland.
“High Wizard,” the man said as he nodded his head, “we meet at last in person.” This statement was followed by a mad laugh. “Well, at least, as much in person as this place affords us.”
Roland could hardly move. The slime of evil power flowing off of the man was the hardest thing Roland had ever borne. The days Roland had spent locked in the room below the Citadel were easy compared to this. But there was one thing that Roland had now that he didn’t have then. His magic.
“I am Rodric Ekhart, the rightful wizard king, the last true king of Alaris,” the voice boomed. “And the Sentinel, the Chameleon, and the General are my children. They are preparing the world for my return.”
Roland shivered and pulled in more power. In this magic realm, there was no limit to what power he could hold. Each speck of light that his mind touched gave him power—he instinctively knew who each one was, and he took from them what he needed now. Roland hoped they didn’t mind. There was Bakari, Alli, Tam, Mericus, King Darius of the Realm, Emperor Alrishitar from Gildan, and High Wizard Danijela Anwar of the Wizard Conclave in Arc. He had pulled from all of them and from so many more—all his wizards and apprentices at the Citadel. Then Roland felt Breelyn and lost his concentration for a moment.
Her magic is dark now. He pushed this thought to the back of his mind. A problem for another day.
Roland began to glow in the darkness, his magic spreading out from his body.
Rodric put his hand up to block his eyes, “It’s not possible,” the wizard king said. “You can’t be that strong here. It’s just not possible.”
“Well, I am!” Roland pushed out his power toward the darkness, illuminating the area around himself.
“No!” Rodric yelled and pushed back at Roland.
Roland’s brightness dimmed momentarily, but he pulled more power into himself. Then voices came to him—of wizards that he had pulled from—warning him, pleading with him to not take any more. And Roland realized that he had now reached a limit. To take more power would hurt his friends. His current power wasn’t strong enough to vanquish the darkness, but maybe it would be enough to buy some time.
Rodric screamed in a low wail and said, “How can you be this strong?”
Roland smiled and pushed all the power he held toward the dark apparition. As it hit the ancient wizard king, the man howled with an eerie, nonhuman sound that tore into Roland’s being. Roland pushed harder, and the darkness began to recede. It faded back into the single point of darkness, getting smaller and smaller.
Now, in answer to the man’s question, Roland cried out, “Because I AM MAGIC!” And, with that, Roland threw the last ounce of his magic at Rodric, and the black point blinked out.
Roland sank to his knees, all his magic depleted. He scooted backward, trying to get farther away, but he knew that physical location had no meaning here. He stopped moving and reached back into his mind. His magic had all been exhausted. He hoped it would be enough for now.
Reaching farther into his mind, Roland saw a small spark, and he smiled. His magic wasn’t altogether gone—because he was magic.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
After surviving the ordeal out at sea, Bakari needed a day of rest to recover. Governor El’Han had bidden him farewell earlier that day, with the reiterated promise of getting King Darius to help. Bakari was sad to see the governor leave. He had been a good friend.
Now Bakari sat across from Breanna and Liam at a corner table in the library at the White Island Wizard School. The twins had been gracious enough to give him a tour of the facilities earlier that day. Then Bakari had requested to meet with the headmaster, but the twins had not been able to discern his whereabouts.
Liam furrowed his dark brows in concern as he said, “Headmaster Penrose has been gone a lot lately.” He looked over at Breanna, and Bakari noticed her shaking her head at Liam.
“What, Breanna? It’s true. Something is going on here,” Liam said.
“Nothing is going on, Liam.” Breanna tossed her long, brown hair to one side. “Don’t bother Bakari with your delusions.”
“Was that thief stealing books imagined? Or, were those missing Cremelinos imagined, Breanna?” Liam’s face was red. Turning to Bakari, Liam continued, “No one takes me seriously. Just because…because…”
Breanna put her hand on Liam’s shoulder, and he stopped trying to speak.
“I am sorry, Liam,” Breanna said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I know you see things that some of us don’t see. It’s just…we have known Headmaster Penrose our entire life. He’s a good man.”
Liam took a deep breath and then said, “He is a good man, and that’s the point. He has not been acting like himself lately.”
“I wonder if it could be him,” Bakari wondered out loud, his mind racing with the possibilities.
“Who?” Breanna asked.
Bakari glanced carefully around the library, wondering how much he should tell them. His eyes lingered on the tomes longingly. It was quite a collection, almost as big as the Citadel’s. But the Realm had not been closed off from the rest of the world for the last one hundred and fifty years, so Bakari was anxious to look through them.
“I’m on a quest,” Bakari began. “There is a dark magic in the southern kingdoms that we need to find out how to combat. A man called the Chameleon takes on the appearances of others and has caused trouble in multiple kingdoms. Just last week, the Chameleon hurt the new king of Elvyn and took our magic away for a time.”
Bakari stopped short of mentioning his own need to find the new dragon and its rider. He had the impression that he was looking across the table at the rider himself.
Liam leaned back in his chair and blew out a long breath as he turned to his sister, as if to say, I told you so.
Breanna smiled and shook her head. “All right, Liam. You win again. Tell him what you have seen.”
Liam opened his mouth to speak. But something strong intruded upon Bakari’s thoughts. His mind was immediately seized by something not of his own doing. He grabbed his head and moaned softly.
Breanna reached across the table, placing her hand on Bakari’s arm.
“Bakari, what is it?”
“My head. Someone is trying to pull power from me.” Bakari opened his eyes in a squint and glanced up.
“I’m going to look around,” Breanna said and was instantly on her feet looking around the room.
Liam was just as alert as Breanna, but he stayed seated. Then he mumbled under his breath, “I guess I’ll stay here and keep an eye on our new friend.”
Even in Bakari’s painful state, he could feel Liam’s sadness at not being physically able to join his sister. Earlier, on their way around the school compound, Liam had ridden around on his Cremelino so as not to slow them down with his lame foot. And, inside the buildings, he
had used a crutch to help himself along.
A new wave of pain crashed into Bakari and sent his body slumping back in his chair. Someone was pulling more power from him. How was that possible? Bakari closed his eyes and drew more power to himself—but the more he pulled in, the more that was taken away from him.
Bakari heard Liam yell out. He tried to make sense of things, but his mind began to grow fuzzy, and he couldn’t think clearly. Putting all his efforts into it, Bakari tried to push himself deeper into the stream of magic. Finally, he was there, in the dark. Far ahead was a bright golden light standing in front of a dark presence.
It was Roland. What was he doing?
Bakari’s body began to shake. His magic was leaving him at an alarming rate—being sucked out of him and toward Roland. He tried to breathe, but even that was hard.
Roland, stop! You’re going to kill me.
A brief lightening of the drain helped Bakari to be able to concentrate once again. With a sudden flash, he felt the presence of Jaimon, the youngest dragon rider. Jaimon was far to the south. Another brief flash, and he saw Alli in a room he did not recognize. As the head of the dragon riders, Bakari had a special connection to the riders, but Alli was strong, and her presence always showed up in the stream of magic also. Bakari didn’t know what that meant.
Roland. No more! he yelled out in his mind, and he saw the bright light of Roland flood out and engulf the blackness in front of him.
As soon as that had ended, Bakari felt a small bit of his strength return. With his physical eyes still closed, he looked around the magic stream. Maybe he could find Abylar. Bakari was so exhausted, but he pushed on anyway. He tried looking west, the last place he had felt his dragon. And he thought he felt a brief spark of the bond.
Abylar!
Dragon Rider! said the familiar voice in his mind. Help me!
Bakari felt the pain from the pull to help Abylar, but before he could do anything else, he was swept farther south and away from his dragon.
No! he yelled in the darkness.
“Bakari!” Liam said, trying to wake him.
Bakari tried to open his eyes, but his power was still so weak that he couldn’t seem to escape the darkness, so he just flowed along with wherever it was that had taken him.
Seeing that a small spark of light stood in front of him, Bakari instinctively reached for it. It had a familiarity. Without warning, he found himself inside an ornate bedroom. Looking around, he gasped as he saw the back of a woman’s head.
I shouldn’t be in a woman’s room! Bakari thought to himself.
The woman was standing in front of a tall mirror, but her body blocked Bakari’s view of her face. She was almost as tall as him, with mostly black hair—only a small spot of blond sat on top. Her dress, too, was black on the bottom and up one arm, with the rest a dull white that continued to darken further, right before his eyes.
Bakari felt something familiar from the woman. He knew he shouldn’t be in her room, but he took a step to the right to see her face more clearly in the mirror.
Breelyn! he gasped. No, it couldn’t be.
The woman tilted her head to one side and turned around, as if hearing Bakari’s voice. Her once beautiful and flawless face now held a dull and stern look, and her blues eyes were now black and hard.
Oh, Breelyn! Bakari stepped up and tried to touch her arm. He couldn’t connect with anything solid, but a blackness flared up around her as he grew near.
Breelyn’s eyes refocused for a small moment, and a flash of blue ran across the black.
“Bakari?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper, pleading.
Before Bakari could do anything more, a man walked into the room without knocking. The man’s eyes sent a shiver down Bakari’s spine, and he stepped backward.
“Are you ready, my dear?” the man asked, his voice deep and commanding. “Ready to gather our army?”
“Yes, General.” She nodded and began following the man out of the room. With one hand still on the edge of the doorframe, she turned back. A lone tear dripped down her face.
Bak? she whispered so soft that Bakari hardly heard it before the door closed.
He willed himself out of the scene and stood once more in the darkness of the stream of magic. He tried to find his way back to his body. But, after walking aimlessly for who knows how long, he stopped and dropped to the ground. He was so weak.
“Bakari!” called a faint voice.
Bakari brought his head up. Who had called him?
“Bakari?” the voice called again.
It was Liam. He was sure of it. So Bakari stood back up with renewed hope. A light grew brighter in front of him, and he walked toward it. In the brightness, he saw the outline of Liam, who stood before Bakari with a look of surprise on his face. Liam reached his hand out toward Bakari’s. When their hands touched, Bakari felt a mental connection with the young man, feeling and knowing all that Liam felt and knew. The transfer of information happened in mere moments.
Then, suddenly, Bakari was back in his body again. He opened his eyes. He was lying on the floor of the library, next to the table they had been sitting at. Breanna had a look of concern, and Liam just stared at him with astonishment in his eyes. Then Bakari motioned for them to help him sit up.
As Breanna helped him back up, she said, “Are you all right?”
Bakari sat up and leaned his head against the wall to gather his wits. “I’m fine now. Just weak.”
“I couldn’t find anything in the library causing problems,” Breanna said.
Bakari grimaced. “I know. It wasn’t here. It was my friend Roland, pulling power from me.”
“Some friend,” Liam said, still staring intently at Bakari.
“He had a good reason, but still—not much control.” Bakari moved to stand up, and Breanna and Liam helped him to his feet and back onto the chair.
Everyone sat quietly for a moment, allowing Bakari to collect himself. He still felt incredibly weak. He could barely hold his eyes open. Almost all of his magic had been drained from him, and then his vision of Breelyn had hurt him deeply.
Oh, Breelyn! What happened?
He glanced up at Breanna and Liam. Liam was staring at him with questioning eyes. Bakari smiled as he realized that whatever connection Bakari had made with Liam upon their contact—all the knowledge and feelings he had felt from Liam—the same must have happened in reverse. He wondered how much Liam had learned before their connection was severed. Bakari had been taught to shield his thoughts from others at an early age. Without Liam’s help, though, Bakari didn’t know whether he could have escaped the magic stream or not.
“Thank you, Liam,” Bakari said. “That was amazing. I didn’t know you had that much power.”
“Me either.” Liam smiled. “I just kept going deeper. I guess, since we are both wizards of the mind, we connected easier.”
That made sense to Bakari, but he supposed there was another link also.
“Is it true?” Liam asked, looking intently at Bakari.
“Is what true?” Breanna said. “What do you mean, Liam?”
Liam ignored his sister and asked Bakari again, “Are you a dragon rider?”
Breanna gasped and covered her mouth.
Bakari felt he could trust these two, and he needed their help, so he said, “I am not only a dragon rider, I am the Dragon King.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The next morning, Bakari sat up in bed in the private room he had been given. He supposed that, for Liam and Breanna, being the children of the king afforded them some privileges. Though, judging by their personalities, Bakari guessed that they didn’t push it very often. He eyed a table by the wall with a full platter of food on it. The mixed scents of breads and sausage wafted by his nose, and he found his stomach grumbling.
Bakari took stock of himself and discovered that he felt refreshed from the second ordeal in as many days. Being drawn into the magic stream by Roland had brought more questions than answers:
What kind of trouble was the High Wizard in? What had happened to Breelyn? And was Abylar all right? The questions seemed endless, but the answers were even more elusive.
Getting out of bed, Bakari walked over to the platter of food and grabbed a few sausages, popping them into his mouth. They were still warm, but not hot, and tasted delicious. He poured himself a glass of a sweet-smelling juice and grabbed a few slices of a bread smothered in frosting.
Looking down, he noticed that he was in different clothes. He hadn’t remembered changing. He blushed, wondering who had changed his clothes.
A few minutes later, Liam knocked on the door before poking his head into the room.
“Good. I see you are awake,” Liam said as he limped in, holding a cane at his side.
“Thank you for providing all of this. How can I repay you?”
“No need for that. Rank does hold a few privileges.” Liam smiled. “Speaking of rank…”
Bakari knew what Liam was referring to. He supposed Liam had a multitude of questions regarding Bakari declaring himself the Dragon King. He knew that Liam had seen into his mind, but he didn’t know how much Liam had seen. Too much knowledge too quickly could be overwhelming.
Ignoring Liam’s implied questions for now, Bakari implied one of his own: “You were about to tell us about the headmaster yesterday. You seemed to have reservations about his recent actions.”
Liam scowled for a moment, as if knowing that his questions were being brushed aside. But Liam had received enough training, Bakari guessed, to be diplomatic about it. Much more training than Bakari had ever received about court etiquette.
Liam limped back out into the hallway and looked right and then left. Then he crooked his finger at Bakari and said, “Come with me.”
Bakari grabbed a blue cloak that was lying on a chair by the door. The color reminded him of Abylar. He took a deep breath and calmed his mind, then followed Liam down the hall. At the end of the corridor, they turned and soon came to a significant-sized gathering room.
