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The Enchanted Emerald (The Enchanted Stones Book 1)

Page 7

by Donald Craghead


  Upon delivering his message, without waiting for a response, Pot-Face turned to flee the embarrassing situation. Unfortunately, he failed to uncover his eyes before racing from the room. With a substantial thud, he ran full speed into the wooden frame for the door. He hit the floor, and lay sprawled on his back, with a cloud of dust floating up to cover him.

  “It would appear you have an admirer, Sarah,” said Michael, as he watched the dust settle over the fallen man.

  “Don’t you think we should help him? He’s out cold.”

  “He’ll be all right. Let’s go see what Toby wants.”

  Outside, near the now-cold campfire, Thomas and Oliver were waiting. They had been up when the runner had returned from Everett. Thomas’ pack was fully loaded, and the two men were ready to travel.

  “Get the sleep out of your eyes, kids,” called Oliver as they approached. “It’s time to travel.”

  “What about breakfast?” replied Sarah as they approached.

  “We’ve got cold venison and bread,” Thomas answered. “We’ll eat on the way. We should be with Everett in about two hours.” The four said their good-byes to the weed-people. Even PotFace had managed to show up for their departure. The knot above his left eye was gaining prominence as they wished each other well.

  Two hours later, the four were nearing the summit that Thomas had pointed out the morning before. The travel was easier here; the forest was thinning out, as well as the underbrush. The hillside was lush with the thick golden grass of summer. Several large oak trees were at the top of the hill where Everett kept his camp. As they reached the campsite, there was sufficient evidence that someone was staying there, but there was no sign of Everett. The four looked around the camp for clues that might tell them in which direction he may have gone.

  “I thought he would be here, waiting,” said Thomas as he looked around the clearing.

  “Maybe he is out hunting somewhere,” offered Oliver.

  “I don’t hunt, young man,” came a disembodied voice.

  Everyone began turning in all directions to find the source of the voice. All except Michael.

  “Hello, my old friend,” he said. “It is very good to see you again.”

  Sarah, Oliver, and Thomas turned to look at Michael as though he had lost his senses, and was speaking to the air. They saw that he was looking up. Following his example, they turned their gazes upward, toward the top of the nearest oak tree. There, floating gently among the upper-most branches, was the aged magician.

  He sat in the air with his legs crossed, hands folded into his lap, as if he were resting on solid ground. His plain brown robe constantly tugged at him as the wind swirled softly around the master. He was indeed a roly-poly little man, barely reaching five feet in height. He must have been nearly eighty years old, if appearance could be trusted. What sparse gray hair he had left was flowing loosely in the gentle wind.

  “Good Lord, I’ve never seen him do anything like that before!”

  “I meant to spare you the fear everyone feels toward magicians, my large gentle friend.” Everett spoke to Thomas as he slowly floated to the ground from his perch in the air.

  As he settled to the earth he spoke to everyone. “I believe now, however, that the time to hide magical abilities has come to an end. We face a great challenge, and the only chance we have is magic.”

  Once on firm footing he turned to Sarah. “Even more important to this old world is beautiful women. You must be Sarah.”

  She stood there in stunned silence, as though her feet had taken root. Her mouth open in surprise.

  “Perhaps I have rushed things a bit,” Everett continued as he turned to Michael. “Would you be so kind as to offer introduction, Michael?”

  Little response was given to the introductions that were made.

  “Please, please,” implored the old master. “We have many things to discuss, and it would be so much easier if more than one person was capable of speech.”

  “Right,” Oliver managed, nodding toward Sarah. “Forgive us, we have never been exposed to magic in any aspect, let alone being approached by a man floating in the air.”

  “I’ve never seen you do anything like that either,” said Thomas, his voice redolent with astonishment.

  “I’m sorry,” Sarah put in. “I’m pleased to meet a friend of Michael’s.”

  It seemed that once the dam of surprise was broken, the questions and comments came in a torrent. All began to speak at once. Michael and Everett were able to stem the tide of conversation just long enough to move to the center of Everett’s camp where they could continue in relative comfort.

  It was past noon by the time they had settled in comfortably, and talked about the attack on Michael and Sarah, as well as the twoday trip into the mountains.

  “Well, it seems you have all had a very busy couple of days. In light of what I have heard, Michael and I need to come to some conclusions. However, there is information that directly involves Michael, which he is not aware of as yet. If the three of you would be so kind as to prepare a bit of lunch, I would like to take a stroll with my young magician.”

  Once Everett had steered him from the camp, Michael was quick to object.

  “I know what you are doing, you tricky old man. You’re going to try to convince me to join you in getting the ruby back from Acantha. I’ve already told you I’m not interested. As long as I have the emerald, her power is limited. I’m willing to keep it, and make sure she doesn’t take it. That’s all!”

  “Oh, Michael! Surely you have more intelligence than that. Surely I have taught you better. Do you really believe she will allow you to go your own way unmolested? She wants that ring, and she will stop at nothing to regain it.”

  Michael’s lips were compressed into a slash of a straight line, his jaw jutting outward in defiance.

  “It’s a terrible thing I have to do now, Michael, but I see there is no other way.”

  Everett sat on the hillside, and overlooked the high rolling hills that passed for mountains in this part of the country. He indicated Michael should join him. When they were both sitting, and Everett decided his friend had calmed down sufficiently, he began to give him a history lesson.

  “You have asked me before why I gave the emerald ring to you to protect,” he began. “You were at least astute enough to realize that it was odd for the lesser talent to be entrusted with such power. I refrained from a more detailed explanation at the time simply because you were not ready for it. You must know the truth now, whether you are ready for it or not.”

  Michael pulled his gaze from the beauty of the deeply-wooded mountains to study his old friend.

  “You sound ominous, old man. You taught me as well as possible at the enclave, and I learned much from you. What could you have possibly been able to hide from me that would cause such strain?”

  “The sins of their fathers,” muttered Everett to himself.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Nothing.” Everett waved his hand in the air as if to dispel his last statement. He looked back kindly at Michael. The two had been friends even before Michael was old enough to speak his first words. The old magician was deeply saddened that he would be the instrument of his young friend’s pain.

  “I really must learn to dispense with these dramatics. Michael, the reason Acantha is so strong with the ruby, and why you could be so strong with the emerald, is because of who you are.

  “If anyone else controlled either of those rings, or both, the enhancement of their power would be negligible. Only someone of your bloodline can call on the powers of the two rings.”

  Michael was quiet while he considered the information just given to him by his teacher. He could understand what he was being told, but there was something that did not fit. There was some reason why what Everett told him could not be true. He had it, he knew what was wrong.

  “That can’t be right, Everett. There must be others that can call on the talismans. Remember, it was you that taug
ht me that these same stones were used in the Magicians’ War. There was a magician back then that used the stones in concert. That was one of the acts that nearly destroyed all of mankind.”

  “Precisely,” said Everett quietly.

  Michael jumped to his feet. His face was deathly white, as if all the blood had run out of him. He staggered and nearly fell under the weight of this terrible knowledge.

  “No!” he yelled. “No. Not one of my ancestors. It wasn’t one of my ancestors that did that!”

  “It’s true, Michael. I’m sorry it had to be told to you this way. But think, lad, why of all the places in the world these stones could be found, why are they here? Why are they here, in the same place you are? Your parents knew the truth. That’s why they were at the enclave. They died before you were even old enough to know them, but like the other descendants of the terrible man that did this, they vowed to protect the world from it ever happening again. Now it is your turn!”

  “Destroy the rings!” Michael shouted. “Destroy them now, and it will never happen again!”

  “That’s been tried, my young friend. They cannot be destroyed. No power has been found that could do it. Now, perhaps, you can see why you must come back with me. Why it must be you. Only you can call on the powers of the emerald. Only you can regain the ruby from Acantha, now that it is holding her so firmly. Only you can awaken the emerald.”

  “No! No!” Michael cried. He was nearly pulling his hair out in his struggle to accept the blame for his ancestor’s dark deeds. Yet another guilt to carry. “I don’t believe it,” he wailed as he ran down the hill.

  “Ah, my young friend,” Everett whispered to himself, “such a burden for you to carry. Such a burden...It’s not fair, but no one can carry it for you. If only I could!”

  * * * * * Many miles to the south, Acantha was once again bent over her nefarious bowl. She had watched Michael’s progress through the Cruz Mountains closely.

  She had witnessed the attack by the weed people as it happened. At first she had hoped this wild-looking group would solve her problems. It soon became evident that she was viewing a farce. This ludicrous gathering of human refuse was incapable of sustaining thought, let alone maintaining a concerted effort. Michael and his group had reached Everett; that pious little gnome showing off with his meager powers!

  “You have given knowledge to me as well, I must admit. Not just anyone could do what I plan. I was chosen. The power is my natural destiny. You have no right to try to take it from me!”

  She watched as Everett made his way back up the hill toward Michael’s friends. She felt he may succeed in recruiting Michael, with this latest gambit.

  “No matter, old fool,” Acantha continued to herself. “Croom is on his way, and you will be dealt with!”

  Everett halted nearly in mid-stride. He raised and cocked his head at an angle as though he were listening for an elusive sound.

  With a shudder, he shook his head and continued to his camp. CHAPTER 9

  Michael was unaware of where he was running. He was just trying to run away from the truth. Of course it was true. All of it was true. He had been around magic long enough to know that what Everett had told him was more than just possible, it was probable. A talisman that could channel power for one person was quite often completely dead to the touch of others.

  Perhaps deep down, he had touched upon the possibilities of the enchanted stones being keyed in only to Acantha and himself. Why else would have Everett given him the stone, rather than keeping it himself? Everett’s greater power enhanced by the emerald would have been enough to defeat Acantha.

  He could have figured that out weeks ago, if he had let himself. But, he wouldn’t. So, he had run. For weeks he had been running. Now he had Sarah. He had thought he could just settle in a sleepy little village, ignore all of his problems and maybe they would go away. They wouldn’t.

  Now Sarah. What about her? He truly loved her and would die trying to protect her if that’s what it took. But to go back and look the prospect of that death in the face....

  Could he just go on running? He was putting Sarah in danger by allowing Acantha to pursue him unchecked. He was sure Acantha could find them no matter where they went, and he would not only have to protect himself, but Sarah as well. She had no talent that would save her life. She was a beautiful girl, perfect in every way; but she was not a fighter.

  He brooded for hours as he walked morosely through the forest. He was lost in thought and failed to notice the beauty of his surroundings. The sky was beginning to darken when he finally reached his decision and began to make his way back to Everett’s camp.

  Sarah leaped to her feet as Michael came into the light of the fire. He was exhausted and emotionally drained. “Michael, you’ve been gone so long! I was worried about you.”

  He smiled as he moved into an embrace with her. “You need not have worried, Everett is able to sense me within certain distances. If I had been in trouble, he would have known about it immediately. But I appreciate the fact that you worry about me.”

  “You have made a decision, haven’t you?” she asked. “Yes. Everett has convinced me. Acantha’s threat must be dealt with. He and I will be going south in the next couple of days.”

  He could not bring himself to tell Sarah the reasons behind his sudden change of mind. There was too much guilt involved to tell her about his ancestor that had destroyed a civilization, and had nearly destroyed mankind. Too much shame.

  “Wonderful news, Michael,” interrupted Everett as he approached. “I knew when the time came you would make the right decision. There is really no other recourse, you know.”

  “No, wait just a minute!” flared Sarah. “I don’t want you to go away. I don’t want you going into that danger. What about us? What about our plans?”

  “That’s just the point, Sarah, if I don’t go to the trouble, it will come to me. As long as that’s true, we won’t have the chance to live out our plans.

  “Besides,” he added, “I won’t be going alone, Everett is coming with me, and he will be able to teach me how to control the power of the emerald.” At least I hope he will, he thought to himself.

  Sarah pulled away from Michael. After walking a few steps, she turned to face him once again. With fists propped defiantly against her hips she announced her decision. “Then I’m going, too!”

  He stared at her with his mouth agape. “Not a chance, Sarah!” he said, once he had regained control of his surprise. “There is no way in the world I would let you do that. We’re not talking about a pleasant walk in the woods. O.K., you want me to admit to you that it’s dangerous. Well, it is; and that is exactly why I can’t allow you to come along. How much chance for success would I have if my mind was on your safety rather than on the situation I was walking into?”

  Big Thomas walked over to Sarah just as she was preparing to object again. “You’re not going to change his mind, you know. But, if it will make you feel better, I’m going along. I’ll watch over him, and make sure he comes back in one piece.” Thomas then turned to Everett and Michael. “Now, I’m sure I don’t have to explain to you two why I would be a help to your adventure. Nobody knows rough terrain the way I do. Besides, when we get there maybe I will be able to find some heads to bash in. I haven’t had a good tussle in a long time.”

  It did not take much convincing for them to see the wisdom of taking Thomas along. However, Michael would not change his mind as far as Sarah was concerned. She was to stay behind with Oliver as her protector.

  That night around the campfire, the conversation was as subdued as the mood. Sarah’s silence was due in part to her anger with Michael for his refusal to allow her to join the quest. She was also trying to formulate a plan that would force them to take her on the journey.

  All talk of the coming journey had finally ceased. The darkening of the night sky was complete now, and their thoughts were turning to sleep. Everett’s attention was elsewhere, however. His head was cocked to the si
de in deep concentration.

  “Something is wrong,” he said, quietly.

  “What?” mumbled Oliver, as he was roused from near sleep. “What did you say?”

  “Something is wrong out there,” replied Everett as he stood staring into the enveloping darkness.

  “I see what you mean, Everett,” replied Thomas, as he got to his feet.

  “What are you talking about?” inquired Sarah. “I don’t hear anything, it’s as quiet as could be out there.”

  “That’s just what I mean,” replied Thomas. “There’s always night sounds in the woods, but now there are no sounds at all.”

  Everyone in the group stood as they grasped Thomas’s remark. There should be noise of some sort. No one except Thomas was sure what form those night noises should take, but they all were aware now that the night was unnaturally still.

  “So what is it?” whispered Sarah. She was surprised to hear herself being controlled by the situation so much that she was brought to a whisper.

  Before anyone could offer an explanation, they were hit with the stench. The overpowering smell of rot rode through their camp, carried by the night breeze.

  “Oh, my God,” cried Sarah, as she recoiled in disgust. There was no escaping the putrid odor seeping through the camp. She did what she could by covering her nose and mouth with her hand as she knelt to the ground.

  That was the only response anyone had a chance to make before the quiet was shattered by the sudden onslaught of charging wild animals.

  So sudden was the charge, the two magicians, student and master alike, were taken completely by surprise. The once peaceful camp was stormed by fleeing animals. As though escaping from a raging forest fire, all manner of beasts fled side-by-side from the unseen danger. Normally natural enemies, wolves, bears, deer, boar, even small ground squirrels, charged down upon the startled group.

  As Everett raised his hands to form the magical spell that would protect his friends, he was struck a glancing blow from a small deer that was wildly racing through the middle of the camp. Michael gave a shout born of terror as he saw a crazed boar, muzzle flecked with foam, head thrashing from side to side, aiming his flight straight toward Sarah.

 

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