There had been two more births among the population. That brought the total number of children born since the Night of Burning, when the dragons had decimated the human race, to three.
Well, it's a start, he thought.
All of the population of the village were Changlings and some had feared that the newborns might actually be monsters or some type of mutants.
“They're all just normal kids though,” Virginia said as she filled the bucket.
She looked at Simon with an impish expression.
“But the last one born, Amy, was born with two different colored eyes. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?”
Simon, with one brown eye and one blue since he Changed, felt himself blushing.
“Of course not! I certainly haven't been involved with...”
He stopped protesting as he realized that Virginia was teasing.
“Funny girl,” he grumbled as they walked back to the hall. “Actually, I'm pleased that that's the only evidence of the Change in them. Some kids did mutate into monstrous forms back before the end. I'm not sure what happened to them, considering the anarchy that society descended into. It's quite possible that they didn't survive.”
His friend stopped walking abruptly, the water in the bucket slopping over the edge a bit.
“You don't mean you think they were killed?” Virginia asked, horrified. “Children?”
Simon nodded once, his expression bleak.
“Some people were blaming the Changlings for the loss of technology. Remember how it was? No power meant no water, no heat, no refrigeration, no communications. It all fell apart so quickly.”
He laughed humorlessly.
“We never realized just how fragile our 'advanced' society really was. My buddy Daniel actually hid me at his place in the last few weeks, as my Change became fairly obvious. And I was an adult. Imagine defenseless children in those circumstances.”
They began walking again.
“Well, I don't need to tell you,” he said gently. “You and Eric and the others experienced the brutality of humanity firsthand when you were kept as slaves by that group of mundane humans for almost three years.”
“Yeah. True that.”
Conversation died at that point as both of them became lost in their own memories.
When they reached the hall, Virginia put down the bucket in front of Chief and Simon let him drink his fill before scattering the hay for him. The big horse rubbed his head affectionately against the young woman and she giggled as she was almost knocked over by his enthusiasm. Their gloomy mood evaporated.
“So why did you ride here in this cold, Simon?” she asked as they watched Chief munching the hay contentedly.
The wizard was torn. On the one hand, Virginia was a friend and he was tempted to tell her everything. But until he knew if his condition was permanent, he found that he didn't really want anyone else to know about his loss of magic.
It's as if I have a nasty disease and am embarrassed to tell anyone, he thought wryly.
“Well, the big guy needed some exercise,” he said, stretching the truth a long way. “And I wanted to see how the village was doing. Besides,” he glanced up at the cold blue sky, “we could be looking at a long period of frigid weather. It might be my last chance to ride down for quite some time.”
She nodded, accepting the flimsy explanation equably.
“Well, it was great to see you again. I'm sure you and Clara have a lot to talk about.”
She picked up the now empty bucket.
“I'll take this back to the storage shed,” Virginia said and gave Simon a one-armed hug.
“Thanks for your help,” he told her with a warm smile. “Say hi to the others for me, will you?”
“Of course I will. If you decide to stay over, come by and see us.”
“We can't stay,” Simon said with real regret. He nodded at the stallion. “Chief gets nervous if he's away from his harem for too long.”
Virginia's guffaw of laughter rang through the cold, still air.
“Lucky guy,” she said, chortling, and patted the munching horse, who whickered at her as he ate steadily.
They parted company then with mutual waves and Simon entered the hall again.
His visit with Virginia had cheered him up immeasurably and had, at least for a short time, made him forget his own problems. But walking back toward Clara's quarters, his loss of magic and the chance that he might no longer be a wizard slammed back into his consciousness. By the time he reached her door and knocked on it softly, his depression had settled back in again.
“Come in, Simon,” he heard Clara call out and he opened the door and walked inside.
The cleric was sitting on the couch again and smiled at him tiredly as he entered. She patted the sofa next to her and Simon hung up his coat and walked over to sit beside her.
He was reluctant to hear any bad news but braced himself to learn the truth.
“So, any luck?” he asked quietly.
Clara had dark circles under her eyes and her face was pinched with exhaustion. Whatever had happened, it had taken a lot out of her.
She shrugged at his question.
“It depends on your definition of luck, I suppose. The news is good and bad. I did have a...visitation, I suppose you could call it. Our gods of Order are distressed by the attack on you. For one human to be singled out by their opponents is extraordinary.”
She smiled a bit.
“You angered the dark ones by destroying one of their most powerful servants. The black may have been the weakest of the primal dragons, but it was still one of only five. Now they are lessened. So at least we can celebrate that victory.”
She settled herself more comfortably into the couch and looked at him closely.
“I have some questions, my friend, about the dragons that attacked your tower.”
Simon crossed his legs and leaned back.
“Sure. What did you want to know?”
“You told me about the attack, but you didn't give me many details. I'd like to know exactly how those creatures attacked. Did they try to tear down your home or..?”
The wizard went through the assault in his mind.
“Now that you mention it, I actually remember thinking how odd it was that they didn't do exactly that. So in answer to your question, no they didn't. They circled the tower, blasting it with fire and brushing it with their wings, but they didn't actually hit the building directly.”
Clara nodded.
“Yes. That's interesting.”
“Is it? Why?”
She looked at the window, seeming to watch as several dust motes floated lazily through the beaming sunlight that lit the room.
“Because of what the gods believe has happened to your powers.”
Simon's stomach clenched. Here it comes, he thought.
Clara looked at him and then smiled compassionately. She took his hand in both of hers and squeezed it reassuringly.
“It's not as bad as you believe it is, my friend. At least, I don't think it is.”
She dropped his hand and sat back, speaking slowly and carefully.
“The nature of the dragons' attack is the key. Those two reds were sent to your home, not to kill you, but to render you powerless.”
“What?”
Simon sat up abruptly.
The cleric nodded again.
“Yes. You see, they circled your tower and set up a barrier between you and the magic that the gods have been channeling to you. And then they absorbed it. You aren't powerless, Simon. Instead, your magic had been drained away by these dragons.”
Simon blinked rapidly, thinking through Clara's explanation.
“But if that's true, then why didn't the power return when the dragons died?”
“Ah, now here is where we have to take the gods' explanation on faith, I suppose. Once the magic was consumed, it was gone. All of it. Including your knowledge of those spells that the divine ones passed on to yo
u.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“When the dragons died, did you examine the remains?”
“The remains?” Simon was confused. “There were no remains. The beasts burned up to nothing when they were destroyed.”
“No Simon, they did not.” Clara sounded firm as she said this. “The gods tell me that you must search the spot where each dragon fell. Find their hearts. That is the reservoir of their power. If you can find those objects, and destroy them, your magic will be restored.”
“What, just like that?” he asked skeptically.
She chuckled at his expression.
“Yes, my friend. Just like that.” She held up a warning hand. “But, unfortunately, the spells that were imparted to you by the gods are gone for good. If and when you regain your magic, you will be back to being that young wizard who struggled along to discover spells through research and trial and error. The gift cannot be given twice, so you will have to relearn all that you need to learn on your own.”
Simon was disappointed to hear that he would be back almost to square one with his spell-casting, but his excitement at the thought that he at least wouldn't be powerless for the rest of his life smothered that feeling.
“I can deal with that, Clara. To be honest, the idea of being useless in this new world of ours was, well, devastating.”
Now it was his turn to take her hand in both of his.
“Thank you. And thanks to the gods of Order for answering your prayers. I feel...whole again.”
Clara smiled warmly.
“On behalf of those gods, you're welcome. I did nothing.” She became serious again. “But don't get ahead of yourself. Simon. Remember, you must find these hearts and destroy them. That may not be as easy as it sounds.”
He shrugged that off.
“It doesn't matter. I'll get it done. After all, I have no choice, do I?”
“Not if you want to get your powers back.”
She stood up and Simon hurried to do the same.
“If you want to get back home before it gets dark, I think you'll have to leave now.”
She glanced out the window.
“It will be dark in a couple of hours and I'm sure that you don't want to be riding through the forest at night. It gets even colder once the sun goes down.”
“True enough,” Simon said and he walked across the room to get his coat.
Clara led the way into the main hall and both of them stood for a few minutes next to the roaring fire as they said their goodbyes.
“You discovered the Magic Mouth spell on your own, didn't you?” she asked him.
Simon put on his coat and settled it comfortably before answering.
“I did, actually. Why?”
“Because, once you regain your magic, I'd like you to give me a call and let me know.” She smiled. “It will reassure me to know that you are back to your old self again.”
He grinned as he pulled his mittens out of his pocket.
“That will definitely be on my to-do list.” He hesitated and then tried to express how much he appreciated her help.
The cleric waved off his thanks.
“It was my pleasure, Simon. And to be honest, as a cleric should be, we need you. We need you as an ally in this magical new world. I will admit that the thought of losing you and your magic was frightening.”
Simon looked at her with surprise. It hadn't occurred to him that Clara actually depended on him that much. It was a bit scary, but he was deeply honored at the same time. And he felt a weight of responsibility settle on to his shoulders.
“I understand, my friend. Believe me, I do. I'll call you as soon as I can. And, since I'll be back to being an apprentice wizard again, I'll be working hard to research new spells.”
“Good.”
Clara grinned impishly and then hugged him.
“Take care on the way home. My prayers are with you.”
“Thanks so much,” he said as they walked to the door. “For everything. We'll talk soon.”
And with that, and a wave, Simon left the hall.
Outside, the cold shocked him after the warmth inside and he shivered. Chief had finished eating and snorted at Simon appeared.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said to the horse as he removed the halter and put the bridle back on that large head. He snugged it carefully under Chief's horns. “We're heading home, big guy.”
Simon tightened the saddle and climbed up on the horse. He put on his mittens and they turned and walked slowly toward the main gate.
The streets were empty and he looked around as they approached the wall.
Clara and her people had built something to be proud of here and he wanted to be able to help them protect it. Monsters existed again and it was only a matter of time before they turned their attention to the little town.
So I'd better find those dragon hearts and get off my ass and be useful again, he thought darkly.
He rode through the gate, waved at the guard who was bundled up in so many layers that he couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, and then allowed Chief to break into a trot as they rode up the low hill toward the forest.
They paused at the top and Simon looked down at the postcard picture of the village below. He had to smile at the sight and then he turned and chirped at the stallion, who eagerly began to move, heading for home.
Chapter 4
It was full dark when Simon arrived home, feeling like a solid block of ice. His toes and fingertips were numb and, when he dismounted outside of the back gate, he had to hold on to the saddle for a few minutes until he had stomped his feet enough to regain his mobility.
Even cold and stiff though, he made sure to settle Chief into his stall and rub him down after his hard work. Then he made the big stallion a warm mash of bran with a touch of honey and left him munching contentedly.
The mares had been thrilled to see them back home and Simon gave them all water and hay before he finally left the stable.
The tower was secure and there were no signs of trespassers. He locked the back gate after checking for footprints and headed inside.
Fortunately there were still a few embers glowing in the fireplace and he carefully used some kindling to get a fire started before setting small logs on the flames. Then he lit candles and went upstairs to change into some clean clothes.
The upper floor was very cold and Simon knew that it would take an hour at least for the heat from the fireplace to spread throughout the tower by way of the ventilation system in the walls. So, after he got changed, he went downstairs again, pulled his easy chair in front of the fire, made some tea and bundled himself in blankets, trying to warm up.
Finally he could feel all of his extremities and began to feel warm and comfortable again.
He'd been tempted to search for the remains of the dragon that had crashed into his wall at its death, but the darkness and frigid temperatures dissuaded him. Tomorrow, he thought. I can stand being powerless for one more day.
Simon sipped his tea and stared into the fire, his mind blank of all thought. The crack and spit of the flames was the only sound in the tower, punctuated by the occasional howl of wind whipping around outside.
Isn't it quiet, Simon thought and shivered. He hadn't realized how much life and sound that Kronk and, to a lesser extent Aeris, had added to his life. If they were still around, he knew that Kronk would even now be chattering inanely about his day, while Aeris would drop the occasional sarcastic comment and Simon would be sitting there trying not to laugh.
Amazing how two beings not made of flesh and blood could be so full of life. And more interesting than most people that Simon had ever met, he thought dryly.
I miss them, was his simple thought. If he needed any more incentive to find those dragon hearts and regain at least some of his magic, that thought was it.
He stood up and added several more logs to the fire.
Tomorrow, he thought. Cold and snow notwithstanding, tomorrow he'd start his search. Simon was a
little amused in a sad way to think that even a loner like himself could miss anyone as much as he missed his two little friends.
What do you know? Simon O'Toole actually has a heart.
He laughed aloud at the thought and then stopped as the sound echoed around the room, emphasizing his solitude.
He pulled his blankets tightly around him and headed for the stairs.
Yeah, tomorrow.
The next morning, Simon woke from a troubled sleep to a freezing room. The windows were frosted over and, when he finally convinced himself to roll out of bed and make his way across the room, it took a few minutes to force them open so that he could see outside.
“Oh gees,” he muttered. “Can't I ever catch a break?”
It was snowing. No, that hardly described it. It was an absolute blizzard.
The snow was coming down sideways in an almost gale-force wind and was so thick that the wizard could barely see further than a few feet from the tower.
Great, he thought. Then he sighed in resignation and closed the windows again. This should be fun.
It took some time to get a roaring fire started in the fireplace and warm up the tower and Simon puttered around the kitchen area, making oatmeal and tea for breakfast while he huddled inside a heavy blanket.
Once he had warmed up and eaten, he decided that waiting was not an option. The longer he put off searching for the dragons' hearts, the deeper they would be buried. And who was to say that it wouldn't snow again tomorrow? And the day after that?
No. As unpleasant as he was sure it would be, today would be the day to at least start the search.
He glanced down at the robe he was wearing and smiled a slightly twisted smile. And that meant a change of wardrobe.
Simon picked up a lit candle by its holder and headed downstairs. In the basement, he lit several other candles that hung from the walls and looked around.
The cellar was the same size as the tower above, forty feet square, but on each wall was a closed door made of heavy, waterproofed oak that led to his storage rooms.
Although none of the doors had a label on it, Simon had mentally given them their own names.
Tales from the New Earth: Volume One Page 46
