Wards and Wonders

by Kay L. Ling

  Ertz held up a hand, signaling them to stop, and Tyla felt the sense of dread that was intended to keep folks from coming closer. If they kept going and breached the ward, they’d get welts. Ertz was wearing the gem pendants. He drew their power.

  Tyla thought she saw the air shimmer briefly, but maybe it was her imagination.

  “My feeling of dread is gone,” Raenihel said. “Does that mean it worked?”

  “I think so,” Ertz said. “There is seldom a sign when a ward is deactivated, but the air shimmered briefly, and that may be an indication. Wait here while I check.”

  He made it all the way to the armory door without mishap and motioned for them to come.

  “Ertz has been a great help lately,” Raenihel said. “I’m sorry I distrusted him.”

  When they reached the door, Raenihel unlocked it with an iron key, and then they activated lightgems and went inside.

  The armory’s stone-block walls had a black coating. Ertz touched the wall. “Waterproofing tar. Good idea.”

  Tyla held her lightgem higher. Last time she’d been here, weapons such as swords, spears, and maces had hung from the now-empty iron wall brackets, and wooden boxes with sentient spell books had sat on the low stone shelf.

  “There’s another room in the back,” she said, leading the way.

  The door to that room stood open. Assorted weapons, helms, and leather gear like boots and leggings remained on the floor, left behind because they were poor quality or damaged.

  They began to sift through the piles.

  Raenihel held up a sword. “Serviceable, but the blade has a few dings.”

  Ertz looked over and nodded. “The weapons you took back to Elantoth are better quality and not so easily damaged.”

  “And most of them had gems,” Tyla said.

  “These weapons, without gems, would have been used by Nopes.”

  “We thought maybe breghlin made and used them,” Tyla said.

  “Perhaps, but these look like gnome workmanship and could have been used at Traitor’s Ridge or the Battle of Last Hope. Let’s lay the weapons out in rows so we can see them better.”

  Ertz and Raenihel went through the weapons while chatting about various battles. Tyla had set her lightgem on the floor and was sorting through leather gear, doing her best to tune out their conversation and concentrate. If there was something important here, she didn’t want to miss it. Items could have historical significance even if they didn’t look important, so she drew infused powers for insight.

  She had nearly reached the bottom of the pile when a metallic gleam caught her eye. She shoved aside a pair of leggings, and her breath caught in her throat. It was a jeweled dagger, its blade gleaming with an iridescent sheen. She had seen a knife very similar to this—the Challenger’s blade—Gem Master Jules’s legendary knife. For a moment, all she could do was stare in stunned silence.

  Raenihel was busy telling Ertz about the day the Amulet Team had found wooden relics in a warded crevice, and she didn’t want to interrupt, so she finally picked up the dagger and examined it. A coat of arms was carved on the hilt, surrounded by gems. Her hands trembled. It was her clan’s crest. She held the knife, her fingers touching the jewels, and closed her eyes, drawing gem powers to see what she could learn about it.

  An image immediately formed in her mind. She saw a stern-faced, middle-aged gnome, his dark brown hair and beard shot through with gray. She had the strangest feeling that he was looking into her eyes and knew she was holding the knife, but that was impossible. He had probably been dead for over two hundred years.

  His features rippled and became indistinct, then began to reform, and when the new image came into focus, it was her face. What did that mean? Then the image disappeared, and suddenly the gems under her fingers felt hot. She opened her eyes, and to her amazement, the blade had begun to glow, just as Jules’s knife did.

  “What in Ahmonell!” Ertz cried.

  “By my grandfather’s beard!” Raenihel exclaimed. “Look what she’s found!”

  “I—” She could hardly find her voice. “I picked it up, and I saw a face in my mind. The former owner, I think. Then his face rippled and changed, and it was my own face.”

  The blade’s light faded and went dark, and the gems began to cool.

  Raenihel said with awe, “We’ve seen one other knife that does that.”

  “The Challenger’s blade,” Tyla said solemnly.

  “Only a master knife maker who is also a gem master can make such a weapon,” Ertz said. “And if he made the knife for his own use, it will be even more powerful. May I examine it?”

  Tyla stood and handed him the knife.

  He handled it carefully, first examining the blade and then the hilt. “It has the Anen clan crest.”

  “Really?” Raenihel looked even more impressed than before.

  “The face you saw is surely the former owner and quite likely its creator.” Ertz passed the knife to Raenihel.

  “Why did I see my own face? Do you know?”

  “Were you drawing gem powers when you held it?”

  “Yes. I used intuition and foresight on each item I examined.”

  “That could account for it,” Ertz said, but he sounded doubtful.

  “I can understand her seeing the maker’s face, but why her own?” Raenihel asked. He handed the knife back to her.

  “I know of two cases where a weapon with gem powers bonded with its owner. In both cases it was warded, and no one else could use its powers. Upon the owner’s death, the bond terminated, and the weapon established a bond with its new owner. It’s possible that’s what just happened.”

  “Fascinating!” Raenihel said. “But I’d be afraid an enemy would pick it up and become the new owner.”

  “The knife maker would surely have a safeguard in place. Since the Anen clan’s crest is on the hilt, I suspect this knife will only bond with someone from the Anen clan.”

  “That makes sense, I suppose,” Tyla said, examining the crest again.

  “So, you think the knife’s powers will only work for Tyla,” Raenihel said.

  Ertz smiled. “Shall we test the theory and find out?” He held out his hand and Tyla gave him the knife.

  After a moment, he shook his head. “I don’t feel anything. The gems aren’t becoming warm.”

  “And the blade didn’t glow,” Raenihel said.

  Ertz gave Raenihel the knife. “You’re from the Anen clan. See if you have any better luck.”

  Nothing happened for him, either, and Raenihel looked rather envious as he returned the knife to Tyla. “Well, Tyla, it looks like you’re the proud owner of a knife with gem powers.”

  “If I hadn’t touched it first, it would have bonded with you,” she said, feeling guilty, and yet she couldn’t honestly say she was sorry it was hers.

  Raenihel smiled. “I’m old. It’s in good hands with you. Maybe you were meant to find it.”

  They stood in contemplative silence. Finally, Ertz said, “Let’s finish looking through everything and decide what’s worth taking back with us.”

  This time, they worked in silence. There could be other treasures in the piles.

  When they finished, they had several rows of unremarkable weapons, not worth taking back to Elantoth.

  “It was worth looking just to find the dagger,” Ertz said.

  As they left the armory, Tyla noticed the sun was straight overhead. The hours had flown by. When they’d left this morning, she’d told herself it was a fine morning for an adventure. She had certainly been right.

  Chapter 28

  Kaff crept downstairs and went out to the front porch to watch the sun come up. Despite the beauty of his surroundings, he was not at peace. Slumping in his chair, he stared moodily at the river. The water was smooth at this hour, burnished with golden hues as the sun began to peek above the horizon. Birds swooped low, looking for fish. Kaff folded his arms and frowned, envious of their freedom. This was the only time of day he could
escape from Beniah who kept a close eye on him under the guise of being a good host.

  Beniah’s cheerful banter couldn’t hide the fact that he didn’t like Kaff. It might not be personal, Kaff told himself. Maybe Beniah just didn’t like gnomes. But whatever the reason, it had only taken two days for Beniah’s superior attitude to show through, and Kaff knew he and Beniah would never be friends.

  Every morning, Beniah told Kaff the plan for the day, and Kaff had no say in anything. Most days, the schedule included trying unfamiliar gems and demonstrating their powers. Beniah had started bringing Kaff Dark gems, and that was a problem. Repeated use of any gem, including Dark gems, gave the user infused powers, and Kaff was noticing changes in his thoughts and attitude.

  Still, it could be worse, he reminded himself. He had three meals a day, his own room in a luxurious house, and he was never bored. For the last two weeks, Beniah had paraded him around town, introducing him to important individuals. The local newssheet had interviewed him, and he had been the guest speaker at a number of meetings, sometimes speaking to two groups a day. The Seekers charged admission at his speaking engagements and kept all the IGs, which hardly seemed fair, and he didn’t get as much as a thank you. Being famous wasn’t as great as he’d thought. He felt like S, trapped in a cage, with folks staring at him.

  A few times he had been tempted to escape, but where would he go? Besides, the woodspirits would probably find him and bring him back.

  A stack of newssheets lay on the table beside him. He picked up the top one and scanned the headlines. Predictably, there was another story about the upcoming vote in the Joint High Council.

  Until a few days ago, it had seemed likely that Sheamathan would go to a woodspirit rehabilitation site. Woodspirit leaders had threatened to withdraw support from jointly funded projects like parks and museums, so gnome council members felt pressured to vote for a woodspirit site. But that was changing now. Recent reports claimed that one of The Eight—Marrid—was amassing rare gems, including Dark gems, some of which she had gotten illegally from the Amulet. Kaff knew firsthand that groups like the Seekers were more intrigued than worried by this news, but other woodspirits, especially those who had lived through the Great Upheaval, believed none of The Eight should own Dark gems.

  Kaff sighed. Before long, Beniah and Yomir would probably have him speaking on street corners, telling everyone Sheamathan had been a benevolent ruler. That’s what Kitana Windan had written in Woodspirit News and Views. Her interview with S had created quite a stir. Kaff was still shaking his head over S’s claim that human gem masters had caused the ecological damage in the Amulet. Where did she come up with this stuff? Like all woodspirits, lying came easily, he supposed. He’d learned the hard way that woodspirits told you whatever you wanted to hear and seldom kept their promises.

  Kaff skimmed through the newssheet, his mind wandering to his trial. The judgmentors might be more lenient with him if they understood why he had wanted to learn dark powers. At the time, the Amulet Team hadn’t found a way to breach the barrier, and it seemed logical to try Dark gems as well as beneficial ones. But they were all sanctimonious cowards, and they would never do that. Kaff might have become a hero if his clan hadn’t ruined everything. They had guessed he was S’s kidnapper, recovered her, and thrown him in the dungeon, ending his quest for knowledge. Then, the Amulet Team had found a way to restore the malfunctioning Amulet. Now, they were the heroes instead of him.

  His talks with S had reinforced his belief that Dark gems had their place, and he wanted to learn more about them, but not this way—being forced to experiment for the amusement of others.

  Kaff was still brooding when he heard the screen door bang.

  “You’re up early again.” Beniah dropped into a chair beside him. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, great,” Kaff said listlessly. After the first week he had given up any pretense of being an honorary woodspirit, or happy to live here, but Beniah didn’t seem to notice.

  “I’ll go over our agenda, and then we’ll eat,” Beniah said. “After breakfast, Yomir is coming over with an interesting gem for you to try.”

  Kaff grimaced. Interesting meant Dark gem.

  “At noon, you’re speaking to the Society of Gem Users, and from three to five you’re greeting customers at Magnificent Art, a prestigious woodspirit art shop that sells Sheamathan Beetle sketches. At seven, we have our Seekers meeting, and we’re expecting out-of-town guests. Naturally, they’ll want to hear all about S.” Beniah reached over and thumped Kaff on the back. “Sounds like another full day.”

  Kaff muttered, “I can hardly wait,” and tossed the newssheet on the end table.

  Beniah stood and studied Kaff with a critical eye. “I’m getting tired of that green robe, but it’s better than your tunic and pants. I’ll have to see about getting you a new robe in a different color.”

  Good, Kaff thought as he followed Beniah inside. The last thing he wanted was another green robe to remind him of his days with Elias and the Amulet Team.

  They ate breakfast in the sunny dining room, surrounded by paintings, sculptures, and tapestries, and Kaff thought as he always did that Beniah didn’t deserve all of this. Sometimes Kaff felt like one of Beniah’s collectibles, an interesting object that would be discarded when Beniah grew bored with it.

  Most woodspirits were wealthy, and many had no job or daily responsibilities. Yomir dropped in frequently and was never in a hurry to leave. Today, he showed up at nine with a pouch of gems, helped himself to raaka, and they all went out to the sculpture garden in the backyard. This was the usual place where Kaff and Beniah experimented with gems, sitting across from each other on stone benches.

  Yomir said, “I learned all about this new gem, so you won’t have to use foresight to learn what it’s supposed to do like some of the other gems I’ve brought you.” He held out a mottled red gemstone. “It’s called hegrar, and it’s supposed to give you three times your normal strength.”

  “Lucky you, Kaff,” Beniah said with a condescending smile. “You’ll be happy to try this one.”

  “Come on, take it,” Yomir said impatiently. “Don’t be afraid.”

  Kaff reached for it reluctantly. Virtually every Dark gem had a negative side effect, and the woodspirits never told him what it was. They let him find out the hard way. Then they apologized, laughing.

  Kaff was tempted to say something spiteful, but he didn’t dare antagonize them. He closed his hand around the gem, concentrated on strength, and drew its power.

  Anger burst through him. Terrible, uncontrollable anger that made him want to smash things. He let out a bellow of rage. His face was burning, and he was sweating all over. Blood hammered through his veins. He leapt from the bench, knowing he must look wild-eyed and crazy.

  The woodspirits laughed uncontrollably. Yomir finally composed himself and gasped, “Forgot to tell you. There’s a minor side effect to all that strength—rage. Quick, Beniah, give him something heavy to lift!”

  “Try one of these statues, Kaff. You can march around the yard with it!”

  Kaff’s anger exploded. He grabbed the bench he had been sitting on and threw it at the woodspirits. They dove, and it landed with a crash behind them, splitting in two. They weren’t laughing anymore.

  Beniah scrambled to his feet and held up his hands. “All right. Calm down!”

  Kaff wanted to punch Beniah, and it took a great deal of self-restraint to keep his hands at his sides. His head felt as if it might explode. His heart was racing. If he didn’t let out more of this anger, it would consume him. He kicked over a statue—a woodspirit child with one hand outstretched and a bird perched on her finger. The statue landed hard, and the hand with the bird broke off.

  “Drop the gemstone! Drop it!” Beniah demanded.

  It hadn’t occurred to Kaff to let go of the stone. He was too angry to think straight. With an effort, he opened his hand and dropped the stone. Immediately his rage dissipated and so did hi
s strength. He sank to the ground, shaking.

  The woodspirits approached him warily as if afraid he might attack them. They had never been afraid of him before, and he felt a keen sense of satisfaction at the fear in their eyes. He was in trouble, but he didn’t care. Yomir had known the side effects, so he should take responsibility for the broken bench and sculpture.

  Kaff was surprised when Yomir bent down and held out his hand as if to help Kaff up.

  “Give me the gem,” Yomir said, and backed away as soon as he had it.

  “Don’t sit there scowling. Get up and apologize,” Beniah said gruffly. “Look at the mess you’ve made.”

  Kaff didn’t answer. He had no anger left, just hatred and resentment. He was trembling so much he wasn’t sure his legs would hold him, so he sat, fighting back tears, wishing he could turn invisible.

  “He doesn’t have much control over his powers,” Beniah said quietly.

  “He’s less skilled than we thought,” Yomir agreed in the same hushed tone.

  “I don’t think he’s gem master material.”

  “Maybe not, but I’ve heard dark powers are harder to master. Sorry about the statue and the bench.”

  Beniah waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll pay for the damage with IGs from Kaff’s speaking engagements.”

  Yomir and Beniah started back to the house, and Beniah called over his shoulder, “Pull yourself together, Kaff. You have a meeting at noon.”

  Once Kaff felt better, he retreated to the porch and sat watching boats go by, wishing he could sail so far from these woodspirits that they’d never find him. But he had a tracking spell with orders not to leave Aberell City.

  When he boarded the boat to go to his lecture, he didn’t know how he’d get through the day. He was in no mood to speak to a room full of stuffy, older gnomes about gem powers. They had to know more about gems than he did.

  Despite all this, the crowd listened politely. He talked about Amulet gnomes discovering that they had gem powers and having to learn everything by trial and error since they didn’t have teachers. It would be a long time before any of them were proficient, he said, but they were doing their best. At the end of the meeting, the Society voted to pay any member’s expenses who went to the Amulet to give gem lessons. So he’d done his people a good turn. Not that he cared. No one would thank him for it.