She picked at it until she found the thread she wanted. Tass followed that thread in her mind's eye. It led off into the distance, fading until it was nothing more than the gossamer of a single strand of spider silk, yet with the power of the egg to help her, she was able to follow it back, back to Zhimosom himself.
The old Wizard sat in his chair before the fire in his remote cabin in the woods. Tass knew where he was now. She could drop in and pay him a visit if she wished. She smiled at the thought. How startled he'd be if she simply appeared before him. She toyed with the idea, but thought better of it. She had thought Sulrad an impotent adversary and he'd banished her to Veldwaite without lifting a finger. Zhimosom might do worse to her if she confronted him.
She examined the old Wizard. He appeared to be asleep, gently snoring in his chair, but there was something about him that bothered her. Tass focused and looked more closely at the Wizard's magical aura. It was intense, yet bottled up in spells that she could not begin to fathom. Zhimosom had immense power, but he was expending it at a rate that would have exhausted Tass in the span of a single day. It made Sulrad's most extravagant use of power look almost restrained.
She sniffed around him until she found the single thread she had followed there. The one she sought was jumbled amongst others, as if a snarl of yarn had been cast about the Wizard by a hapless kitten. Carefully, she followed the one she wanted until it was lost within the tangle of spells the old Wizard maintained.
There was no getting around it. She would have to chance it.
Tass formed a spell she had learned long ago, but had never had the opportunity to practice. That was, until today. It was a spell of separation - not the one that was used to separate the magic from a young Wizard, but closely related. She had found it on a dusty old scroll in the deepest reaches of the Temple, one day when she was brooding about some long-forgotten slight.
She gathered her strength to her and combined the power from the egg with her own as she reached out. She still wasn't able to isolate the single thread she wanted, but no matter. If she could break the hold Zhimosom had on the Charm, she could use the Charm against Sulrad, and that was her ultimate target.
She grabbed the small bundle of threads that included the one linking the old Wizard to the Charm and snipped them clean. If she was right, the thread would vanish in a puff of smoke, and the Charm would no longer fight her attempts to draw it to her.
The resistance of the spell was almost physical, as if she were trying to cut a branch from a nearby bush and had underestimated its thickness. She put more power into the spell, willing it to sever the threads. He spell fought back at first, but she knew she was making progress.
A loud twang, like the sound a dulcimer string breaking, sounded and Tass was wrapped tightly in the threads of the spell she had just severed. Her arms were pinned to her body and she struggled to breathe.
"Not again!" was all she had time to utter before she fell silent, suffocating.
Ordinary Girl
Chihon wasn't sure how to take her new-found lack of magic. Lorit certainly was taking it hard, but she wasn't so sure it was a bad thing. She could go back to being a normal girl now. Like she was before Lorit had stumbled into her in the market. Like she had always imagined herself to be.
She decided to return to the chandlery and her hired room while she adjusted to life without magic. She knocked and entered the shop where Uwora diligently worked making candlewicks. The girl looked up and smiled when she saw Chihon standing there. She nodded to the seat across from her.
The shop was tidy and well maintained. All of the wax was regularly scraped off the floor and the place was dusted frequently. Any little amount of dust would affect the way the candles burned, and Brayer's were known for their consistency and control.
Chihon sat down across from Uwora and reached for a handful of threads. Without a saying a word, Chihon braided the soft strands into thick wicks as she'd been shown. She draped the completed wicks over a small wooden stand whenever she finished one. She was quick at it, but nowhere near as quick as Uwora.
"Can't you use magic for that?" the girl asked.
Chihon laughed. Everyone thought magic was simple. They didn't understand that it took a lot of effort to do even the simplest things by magic. Now that Chihon's magic had gone, she was just a girl who had grown up in the market, and had happened to have a few adventures along the way. She sighed. She would have to get used to being just a girl once more.
"I have no more magic." Chihon didn't even look up at Uwora as she spoke. She hoped that Uwora would not question her too deeply about what had happened.
"No magic. I didn't know that was possible. I thought you were born to it."
"I was, but my magic is gone. It happened when they healed me."
"Heal you? Were you sick?" Uwora looked troubled.
Chihon unlaced her shirt and folded back the cloth. She traced the jagged scar that disfigured her skin above her heart. The scar still had a rough dark scab along its entire length.
"What's that from?" Uwora asked. The girl leaned forward to get a better look.
"I was shot with an arrow that had a spell on it. It took a lot of magic just to save me, but in the end, the spells they used to heal me took my magic away so that the arrow's spells could not use it against me. If not for that, I would have died."
"You almost died?" Uwora stopped her work to look at Chihon in horror.
"I told you being a Sorceress was dangerous. When I left here, I was ambushed by archers. I was shot three times by poisoned arrows."
"Did it hurt?"
Chihon winced with the memory of it. "Yes. More than anything I've ever felt before. It was like fire that cut deep into me. I thought I was going to die."
"But you're alright now." Uwora resumed her task, glancing over her shoulder lest her father saw her slacking in her duties. "I mean, you're not dead."
"I'm all right now." Chihon refastened her clothes and picked up another handful of threads. She braided them together and laid the new wick on the stand along with her earlier efforts.
"I'm glad." Uwora focused once more on her task. Her deft fingers moved so quickly, Chihon could barely follow her motions. The wicks seemed to sprout from Uwora's hands like magic.
"So now you'll be staying here longer," the girl said. "Last time, you were out of here before we had much of a chance to talk."
"I'm planning to be here for a while. No quests, no magic. I'm just an ordinary girl who needs a place to stay."
Chihon enjoyed the afternoon with Uwora making wicks and chatting. She slept soundly in her new room, but was wakened the next morning by an incessant pounding on her door. It was Brayer, the owner of the chandlery. "Someone's here to see you."
"Who is it?" Chihon blinked back sleep. It was not yet dawn and she could only just make her way round her room by moonlight as she threw on her robe and slippers. She shuffled to the door and opened it.
At first she thought it was a child. The person standing before her was short, but broad and powerful. Chihon couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl as a thick hooded cloak shaded her visitor's face. Chihon probed for any signs of danger, and immediately flushed when she realized she no longer had the use of her magic.
She stepped back and motioned for the person to enter. She was hesitant, but had not grown so apprehensive that she was afraid of a stranger. She knew a few ways to defend herself that didn't require magic.
"Please come in," Chihon said.
Chihon pulled the chair from beneath the communal table and motioned to her guest and then the chair. "Please."
Scaly hands reached up and drew the hood back. The woman was short and squat, and had pure white hair cropped short. Her eyes were like those of a lizard, with vertical sits open wide in the gloom of the early morning. The scales of her face slid softly aside as she broke into a slight smile.
It was Du'ala.
"You are well?" Du'ala asked. She sat down and took Chihon's
hands in her own. Du'ala's hand was cool, dry and smooth, like a snake's skin. Du'ala's touch was gentle.
"I am well, but as you can see, I am without the use of my magic."
"You have no need of your magic. You have ours now." Du'ala squeezed Chihon's hands.
Chihon wondered what she meant. She had no magic. Not her own, and certainly not someone else's. "I ... don't understand."
Du'ala released Chihon's hands and placed her scaly palm in the air near Chihon's scar. Warmth flowed from the woman's palm and the scar felt like a line of fire on Chihon's skin. The glow faded and a faint power awoke in Chihon. She recognized it as the magic of the dragon's egg.
"Egg Mother," Du'ala stated simply.
"Egg Mother?" Chihon had never heard the term before. She was no mother, and her only contact with the egg had been brief and fraught with pain.
"Mother to the egg you carry inside you." Du'ala pointed to Chihon's heart.
"I don't carry the egg. I was shot while I was trying to rescue it. Some of it is embedded in me, but I don't have it."
"No need," Du'ala said. "You have enough."
"What do you mean?"
"You carry the egg. You carry the power of the dragons now. You must protect the egg." Du'ala grasped Chihon's arm and drew her close until the two women were gazing into each other's eyes. Chihon heard Du'ala's voice in her head. "When the egg hatches, the baby will bond with the first person or dragon it sees. It will be bonded like family. If it bonds with another dragon, they will be family. Like mother and daughter. If it bonds with a human, it will be as the pair bonding you share with Lorit."
"That bond is gone. It's sealed away." Chihon straightened up as Du'ala released her. She was ashamed to admit that she had separated from Lorit. For some reason, she felt Du'ala would judge her harshly for leaving him.
"Not gone ... dormant."
"Will it return?" Chihon felt the flush of excitement. She missed her powers, and she missed Lorit, even though she thought it best that they were separated for the time being.
"Perhaps. Now you are Egg Mother."
"So what must I do?"
"Find the egg. Safeguard it." Du'ala shook one short scaly finger at Chihon. "Make sure that when it hatches, it is in the presence of another dragon. Do not fail me."
Du'ala stood.
"Wait. Stay. I have so many questions."
"I can not. I must leave before the day breaks." Du'ala cackled. "Imagine the talk if the townsfolk saw a dragon fly off."
"What? You can change back to your dragon form?"
"Zhimosom is weakening," Du'ala said. "We can change back to our true form, though it does not last. I flew here to warn you, and to beg your help. Do not fail us, Egg Mother." Du'ala rested her hand on Chihon's shoulder. "We need you."
With that, Du'ala pulled her hood back over her head and walked out the door.
Counter Spell
Lorit sat alone in the study he shared with Chihon. He missed her, and often came to the study because he felt her presence there. Everything there reminded him of her, and it was comforting. She would eventually come back, but until she did, he would sit there and read, catching up on spells that he might never need or use if they couldn't find a way to restore his magic.
Lorit hated being powerless and was comforted to find a small core of magic remained deep within him. It had awakened early that morning. He tried to access it, but it was difficult. He wanted to exercise it and make it grow, just as his own magic had grown in him when his power first awoke.
He held out his hand and thought the words of power that would call forth fire. The tiny core within him sparked to life and a flame no bigger than a candle appeared in his palm. It flickered and died.
"Lorit. You have your magic back."
Lorit turned to see Chihon standing behind him.
"When did you get here?" he asked.
"Just now."
Lorit closed his hand. His skin was slightly warm and dry from the tiny flame. It was hardly more than a beginning student did without effort. "Not much power. I have a little I can draw on, but it's weak."
He really wanted to ask her why she was back, but he held his peace. She would tell him when she was ready.
"Lorit. I just had a visit from Du'ala." Chihon leaned on the arm of the chair.
Chihon was not sitting, but she wasn't leaving either. That was a good sign. "What did she say?" Lorit asked.
"She said the egg is going to hatch soon and that the baby dragon will imprint on whomever it sees when it hatches."
"What? The egg is going to hatch?"
"That's what she said. She didn't say when, though."
"Surely that's not all she said." Lorit knew Du'ala was a woman of few words, but there must be more to it than this.
"She said I have to find the egg and make sure it hatches around the dragons." Lorit waited. Clearly there was more.
"She called me the Egg Mother ... like it was a title."
"How are we supposed to find the egg without magic? How can we do anything? Tass has the egg. We can't even travel to the Temple, much less walk right in there and take it away from her ... and what's an Egg Mother?"
"I don't know. That's why I'm here. I need your advice and I want to consult the library. There must be something there that can help."
"Let's go look." Lorit stood up. Chihon looked healthy and happy. He wanted to go to her and hug her, but he felt that she was still not ready, so he settled for walking quietly by her side.
Together, Lorit and Chihon made their way to the oldest section of the library where the ancient lore was. The alcove was small, dusty and in ill repair. Most of the books were from a time before the dragons left. They were over fourteen hundred summers old, and many of them were crumbling, held together by spells that had been placed on them to preserve them.
"There's nothing here about an Egg Mother," Lorit said after searching through a stack of books.
Chihon sat at the solid wooden table with a volume open before her. "This talks about dragons bonding. It works the same as it does with birds." Chihon laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"Dragons bonding like birds. I just imagined a mother dragon with a train of tiny dragons following it around like ducklings do."
Lorit laughed. Not because the image was funny, but because it was good to see Chihon laugh again. He had worried that she was never going to recover her usual humor. "I imagine that would be a sight to see."
"It says that a hatchling imprints on its mother. That forms a family bond until the dragon reaches the age of sentience." She traced the words on the page as she read. "It can take three summers before a hatchling becomes mature enough to take care of itself."
"I suppose that's a good way for it to work," Lorit said. "We don't let children run free until they're trained. It wouldn't be safe for them."
"Children don't fly and breathe fire."
"That's true. So if the hatchling sees another dragon, it will bond with the dragon for life?"
"Not for life ... well ... It's described as a family bond. Not a mating bond or the pair bond." Chihon's smile faded as she spoke of the pair bonding.
"So that's why Du'ala doesn't want it to imprint on a human?" Lorit wanted to get her off the subject of pair bonding quickly.
"That's what she said. I have to find the egg and make sure it doesn't imprint on Tass when it hatches."
"Any idea how to do that?" Lorit looked up at her. She held the large tome in her hands, tracing the words as she read.
"None." Chihon closed the book. She sat back and looked up at the ceiling. Lorit followed her gaze, but there was nothing there.
"I think we need help." Chihon exhaled a long heavy sigh.
"What kind of help?"
"Zhimosom and Rotiaqua. They know more than they let on. Can you contact them?"
"I saw Zhimosom a few days ago, but I haven't tried to contact him since we lost our powers. Do you think you can still get through?"
>
"Let me try. I've felt a slight amount of power since Du'ala came to see me." Chihon sat back, closed her eyes and her face screwed up with concentration, and then relaxed slightly. She sat silently for a while before she spoke. "They're coming."
"You got through? I thought neither of us had magic."
"The egg. Its power is available to me now. I can tap into it when I need to. It's growing stronger and stronger, ever since Du'ala came to see me. She said I shared the dragon's power now."
"I've felt it, too. I think that's what I was using to raise the fire ..."
Before Lorit could finish, a sparkling cloud formed beside the table. Out of the swirling motes of magic appeared Zhimosom and Rotiaqua. Zhimosom stood tall in his formal robes, his white beard spilling down his chest. He held his staff, gripping the gnarled wood close to the embedded jewel.
Rotiaqua was likewise attired in her formal robes of deep purple. She was shorter than Zhimosom, with hair just as white, but she smiled her perpetual mischievous smile in contrast to Zhimosom's scowl.
"Dragons?" Rotiaqua asked without the slightest courtesy of a greeting.
"Du'ala paid me a visit earlier. She said that the dragon's egg was going to hatch soon, and that I needed to find it, and make sure it hatched in the presence of another dragon - not a human."
"She came here?" Zhimosom smoothed his beard and looked closely at Chihon's face.
"No ... Yes ... She came to my room in town. She just walked up and knocked on my door. She said she had to leave before sunup or else the townsfolk would be frightened to see a dragon fly away."
Zhimosom stroked his beard. "Hmmmm. That's odd." He thought for a while without further comment.
Lorit sensed that the Wizard had more to say. "What's odd?"
Zhimosom turned to Rotiaqua without answering Lorit. "That is likely what the jarring was earlier. I felt my magic snap as a few of my spells were broken."
Master Wizard (Book 4) Page 21
