The King looked next at Gaen. “And you, Warmaster? What is your counsel?”
Gaen shrugged. “The matters of wizards and magicians are beyond my ken, Majesty. I am a soldier, nothing more. This you know. However, I have known Fender for most of my life, and if he believes a danger exists, then I believe it as well. I am fully prepared to undertake a journey to retrieve this magic book.”
“Just a minute!” Jalis interjected. “How do we know this ‘SongMaster’ is telling the truth? How do we know this magic book even exists? We should trust the word of a stranger, and of this Massar, who may be nothing more than a legend himself?” The Prince began to pace. “Foolishness, all of it. We have continuing reports of goblins on the Western front, and Sarth continues to attack our southern border. That is where the Warmaster is needed, not on some wild funj chase for riddles and stories!”
Jared stepped forward and put his hand on Jalis’ chest, stopping his pacing. “Why don’t we give the SongMaster a chance to prove his admittedly wild tale?” he asked his brother. He turned to Joel. “Can you give us a demonstration of your magic?”
Jalis threw off his brother’s hand angrily. “Yes, SongMaster,” he sneered. “Show us this mighty magic, of which our magician speaks so highly.”
Joel was quiet while he thought. He had the feeling that the younger Prince was going to want more of a demonstration than simply lifting a feather. As he thought about it, he reflexively slung the guitar into playing position and strummed a few chords to check the tuning.
The colors began immediately, and he noticed the King’s eyes widening a bit. I have to remember that these people have never heard music, as incredible as it seems, he thought. Then an idea hit him. What if he were to simply play a tune without a specific magical goal in mind?
Without stopping to think about the pros and cons of such an act, Joel chose “Flying in a Blue Dream” by Joe Satriani and began to play. True to the title of the piece, the colors swarming around Joel turned all of the different shades of blue he could think of, and some he had never seen. As he began to lose himself in the music, Joel felt rather like he was sitting in the middle of a fireworks celebration. Lights and colors surrounded him until he could no longer see the others in the room.
Joel continued to play, some part of him trusting that Fender and perhaps J’Mart would keep anything disastrous from happening. Soon he was completely lost in the music, the colors and lights and feelings separating him from the outside world. He closed his eyes and could feel the music surrounding him, insulating him and giving him an incredible feeling of buoyancy.
He was halfway through the song when he felt a touch on his foot. Awareness of the outside world returned in a rush as he opened his eyes and stilled his fingers. As he stopped playing, the colors and lights faded slowly, revealing the room around him.
The first thing he noticed was that he was floating several feet above the floor, and was gradually sinking as the effects of the magic dissipated. The feeling of buoyancy had apparently been more than just a feeling. Joel looked at the other people in the room. The only one who didn’t appear shocked was Fender, but even he was backed slightly against the wall, looking at him with an odd expression. Gaen, Jared and King Peter were staring at him open-mouthed. Jalis, also backed against the wall, had an almost unreadable expression on his face as he stared at the musician. J’Mart was floating next to him, and it was he who had touched his foot to bring him out of his trance.
“I- I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I guess I got a little carried away. I didn’t destroy anything, did I?”
Fender was the first to respond. “No, you hurt nothing, Joel. It was a very impressive show, however.”
Jalis’ mouth snapped shut and he scowled. “Bah! Tricks! Lights and sounds, nothing more!” Suddenly Joel realized that the expression he had seen on Jalis’ face had been fear. The Prince continued, “We should trust this trickery? Rather I think we should chase this impostor out of Beláin and concentrate on real threats, like Sarth.”
Jared, however, ignored his brother. “That was amazing, SongMaster. It was also, if I may say, very beautiful. Whatever strange style of magic you weave, it is impressive, as the court magician said.” He turned to Jalis. “Perhaps, little brother, it might be prudent for you to close your mouth in situations that you don’t understand.” Ignoring the expression of anger that was growing on his brother’s face, he turned to his father. “Father? What did you think?”
King Peter was silent, thoughtful for a moment before replying to his son. “I think,” he said slowly, “that we would be well-advised to listen closely to the SongMaster’s tale, and to Fender’s suggestions. Such power should not be taken lightly. I think –” He was interrupted by Jalis, storming out of the room. Peter watched him leave, then continued as if nothing had happened. “I think the idea is sound that we should send a small expedition after the book. The Duran, it was called?”
Joel nodded, still reeling from the after-effects of his magical experience. Fender nodded as well. “The Duran, according to my location spell, lies somewhere north of the Northern Wastes,” he told the King. “Gaen and I both feel a small party would be more effective.”
The King looked at Gaen, who shrugged. “I have assembled six of my best scouts – those who are not currently on the front. I feel a smaller number will have a better chance of slipping through the Wastes undetected and through any defenses the thief of the Duran may have erected.”
“Wait a minute. Wait a minute.” J’Mart spoke for the first time. “Undetected? Undetected by what? I thought nothing lived in the Wastes!” The little man actually looked a little worried.
“That’s not exactly what Fender said,” Joel told him. “He said they were inhabited, but ‘by creatures best left alone.’” Suddenly Joel remembered that he and Fender were the only ones who could see or hear the Ramiken. He looked apologetically at Gaen and King Peter. “I’m sorry. J’Mart is… uncomfortable with the idea of going through the Northern Wastes and was curious as to who we need to hide from.”
King Peter began glancing around the room as if he would be able to discern where J’Mart was, then stopped and addressed the air. “I forgot about the Ramiken. I’m sorry, J’Mart. I only wish I could see you.” He looked next at Joel. “Your friend is understandably concerned, SongMaster. There are creatures in the Wastes that no sane person wants to meet. Maybe the Warmaster can elaborate.”
Gaen smiled humorlessly. “The Wastes are a blasted land, magician. There are things there that nobody has seen or heard before. Twisted, hunched beasts, poisonous and deadly. Some of them cannot be seen, others only hunt at night. There are snakes there longer than the height of this castle, and there are wolf-like creatures that walk upright and are the size of three men. Being caught by any of them means almost certain death.”
Joel swallowed. “Great. How did the Wastes get that way?”
“Nobody knows – they have been so for as long our history records. There are legends that they are the remains of a battlefield from a war fought before men came to Alera. The legends say that there are poisons in the air and ground that do horrible things to the things that live there.”
That sounded a lot like radioactivity to Joel, but he stayed quiet. Instead he looked at J’Mart. “Satisfied? Now you know what we’re gonna try to hide from.”
The Ramiken did a flip and stood on his head in the air in front of Joel. “Yup. That’s all I needed to know. Luckily, I don’t need food or breathe air. You, on the other hand, may have some problems, not the least of which could be large numbers of savage beasts intent on eating you.”
“Are you trying to make me feel better?”
“Nope – just putting things into perspective. Why? Is it making you feel better?”
“No.”
J’Mart shrugged and rubbed his chin. “Pity. So when do we leave?”
Joel turned to the others, self-consciously aware of how the entire exchange must have looked. “
So when do we leave?”
Jared looked at his father and Gaen. “I vote we leave as soon as possible. I don’t think there is any time to lose. If Gaen’s team is ready, we could take tomorrow to provision ourselves and leave the day after.”
“You’re going with us?” Joel asked the Prince.
“Of course! Not only is the safety of the realm at stake, which makes it imperative I accompany you, I wouldn’t miss this adventure for anything!”
Gaen shook his head. “Your Highness, of course I can’t stop you from coming. And perhaps you should. But I beg you, don’t think of this as a pleasure trip or an adventure. It will be long, hard going through the Wastes and beyond.”
The Prince slapped the Warmaster on the back and laughed. “I’m well aware of the seriousness of the venture, Warmaster. I’ll keep my head about me, never fear. Now let’s go figure out what we need to bring with us on this trek. I’m sure the magicians have some preparations they need to make as well.” He looked at Fender and Joel. “Is that not so?”
“Yes, it is,” said Fender. “Joel, let’s head back to my quarters and take an inventory of what we – or I – might need, since I’m not sure if you need to bring anything other than your guitar.”
Joel nodded, and J’Mart started dancing around on the floor, humming a tune Joel recognized as the tune from The Wizard of Oz. He and Fender headed back into the main hallway as Gaen and Jared went the opposite way, presumably to meet with Gaen’s team and begin to plan for the trip.
They had barely turned the corner and headed for the exit when they heard a crash of metal that made both of them freeze. J’Mart stopped singing under his breath about being “off to see the Wizard” and froze in his tracks as well. “That, Mr. Music Man, is the unmistakable sound of two swords crashing together,” he informed Joel. “Never a good sound. Let’s go see what’s going on, shall we?” Fender began a fast walk toward the direction of the sound, and Joel and J’Mart followed.
The sounds of a fight intensified as they progressed through the hallways and corridors. Joel was soon hopelessly lost, but Fender obviously knew where he was going, as the sounds grew louder. It wasn’t long before they rounded a corner to see Jared and his brother, Jalis, standing several feet apart, swords drawn, glaring at each other. Jalis had a cut above his left eye, but Joel could see it was nothing but a small flesh wound. Jared seemed to be unharmed. Both men were breathing heavily, obviously in the midst of an argument.
“Jalis, listen to reason,” Jared was saying as they approached. “I am not trying to undermine you. Why would I do such a thing?”
“I don’t know why,” growled the younger man. “You’re already the favored son. You’re already first in line for the throne. You already have father’s ear in royal matters. Why indeed do you need to lessen me further, Jared?” He lunged forward, making Jared parry. “The one thing you do not have, however, is a greater skill at fencing. That, at least, I have on you.”
Gaen was standing several feet to Joel’s and Fender’s left. “What’s going on?” Fender called to him.
The old warrior shrugged and shook his head. “Jalis was waiting for us. He was angry and started yelling at Jared. Jared argued, but then Jalis drew steel, and he could not help but do the same to protect himself.”
“But why would he draw on his own brother?” Joel asked Fender.
“There is bad blood between those two,” the old magician responded. “Most of it having to do with Jalis’ greed and feelings of inferiority. Jared has never been anything but a loving older brother, if a bit stern, but Jalis has always chafed at being the younger.” He was interrupted by another clash of steel, making Joel wince. “This is not the first swordfight they have had, nor is it likely to be the last. They will fight for a short while, probably get some cuts and scratches, and then fall back and go their separate ways, none the worse for wear.”
No sooner had he spoken then it was over, though not so peacefully. Jalis feinted low. When Jared tried to parry, Jalis thrust and made contact with Jared’s right bicep, cutting deeply. Jared grunted and retreated, eliciting a crow of victory from his brother. “Crawl away, brother! Crawl away and nurse your wounds. Perhaps the monsters of the Wastes will smell your blood and fear and do away with you. I would rather have them do it than be faced with the task myself. A safe journey, brother,” he sneered.
Jared looked at him. “I would not wish such on you, Jalis,” he said through clenched teeth. “I love you as my brother.”
“Then that is your downfall,” answered Jalis, and spun on his heel and disappeared down the corridor.
When he had disappeared from sight, Gaen, Fender and Joel rushed to Jared’s aid. The cut on his arm was deep, but because it was on the outside of the arm, away from the artery, it was not dangerous. Fender produced a length of cloth and bound the Prince’s arm tightly. “The chief surgeon is going to have to look at this. Why did the two of you fight this time?”
Jared shook his head, his eyes closed – whether in pain or regret, Joel could not tell. “I’m not sure. You know that Jalis still holds this deep resentment toward me and every now and then it comes out violently. I am forced to defend myself, and, as you know, he is a better swordsman than I.
“He is convinced, for whatever reason, that the trip to retrieve the Duran is not only unnecessary, it is a fool’s errand. That is strange enough, but the fact that I am not only endorsing the trip but also going along is driving him mad with rage.”
Joel was confused. “Why is he allowed to get away with attacking you? Aren’t you royalty?” He remembered who he was speaking with and added, “Your Highness?”
Gaen answered for the Prince. “Remember, magician, that Jalis is also royalty. Unless one of them kills the other, this is something that must be settled between them or by their father.”
“What about the Queen?”
“Her Majesty died several years ago.”
Joel suddenly felt very small. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
Jared managed a small smile. “Don’t be, SongMaster. You didn’t know. Though I have often thought that my troubles with Jalis began about the time our mother died, I have not had the time or inclination to explore more fully the reasons behind his change in mood.”
“So we get you bandaged up, then both of you walk away and forget the fight?”
“Aye – something like that.” The Prince shrugged. “For now, I have other things to worry about instead of my little brother.”
“Spoiled brat that he is,” interjected Gaen.
The Prince rebuked him. “Now, Gaen. He is still my brother. I will deal with him later, I promise. Let us go plan for the journey, and let the magicians do their own planning. We leave the day after next!”
Without another word, the Prince and the Warmaster walked away down the corridor, presumably to see the chief surgeon. Joel turned to follow Fender, and they made their way in the opposite direction.
TEN
The next day passed quickly. Joel and Fender spent the morning looking through scrolls for spells for Fender, looking at maps, and talking. In all of the excitement, Joel had almost forgotten that he was in another world, and now that he had the chance, he was determined to find out all that he could about Alera.
Fender filled him in as best he could about Alera’s – and Beláin’s – history as Joel quizzed him. Joel was most curious about the lack of music. “Doesn’t Alera have songs, or chants, or even poetry?” he asked the other wizard. “After all, the first ‘instrument’ discovered and used on Earth was the human voice.”
“Oh, we have songs and chants, of course,” answered Fender. “Those have always been around. But there is no magic in them.” He paused for a moment, and then, in a low voice that was not unpleasant, began to sing.
I do not know the road home
That leads me back to my lady fair
Though I need her touch
As I need her face, like air
“You see, the song may be be
autiful, but that is all. There is no power in it.”
Joel was thoughtful. “I wonder, had someone invented an instrument, if it would have had the same power as my guitar seems to have. Because I don’t think there’s anything particularly special about me or my guitar.”
Fender shook his head vigorously. “I beg to differ, Joel. You may not think so, but you are unique, especially in a magical sense. Remember what I said – that magicians who don’t use spells are almost unheard of. And the power that is displayed when you use your music cannot be attributed to your instrument alone. There is immense power inherent in you.”
“I wish I could feel it. I feel mostly like a kid with a shiny new toy that I have no idea how to use. I’m just guessing every time I pick the thing up,” said Joel, and motioned toward his guitar.
“Nonetheless, you will learn your power. You must. There is a reason, after all, that you had the dream, and that Massar brought you here. I promise I will teach you what I can while we travel.” With that, the two men began to pack, each filling a backpack with various items. Joel didn’t take much more than what he had brought with him to Alera, but he added a few scrolls that looked interesting and some various items that Fender suggested he bring. Fender also gave him a warm, weatherproof cloak made out of a leathery material, telling him that the weather in the North could be cold and unpredictable. For his part, Fender struggled to decide what not to bring. At the end of a few hours he had a stack of scrolls that he was determined to whittle down to a manageable number for carrying. J’Mart spent the morning quizzing Fender about what certain items were and making suggestions to Joel. Most of his suggestions were either completely off the mark or merely humorous, but he had a few that Fender agreed were good ideas. As he had when Joel was readying to leave Earth, the little man acted as if nothing important were about to happen, laughing and joking and acting silly.
SongMaster's Realm Page 12
