“But rocks are not living,” the young boy stated.
Nes’egrinon interrupted, “Well said, young man. Well said.” Bel and Kerlith quickly turned their heads back to the master. Neither knew he was there listening. The mage continued, “Myself, I cannot understand this magic of rocks and crystals. It makes no sense to me. How could it work? There is no life in rock. How can a wizard call forth power from it? It’s dead. Baah. Makes no sense.”
Kerlith replied, “Master, certainly you know that crystal, while not alive, can act as a sort of prism, bending the light that is already in the world, focusing it, concentrating it into a pinpoint.”
“Yes, of course I knew that. But it would be much easier to just go to the source of life instead of bending it, don’t you think? Here feel this.” The old wizard held out his staff. “This staff was cut from a one thousand year old mage-wood tree that still stands today. That tree’s roots go long and deep, thousands of feet down into the ground. I wouldn’t be surprised if all mage-wood trees were not part of the same one tree; its roots go out so far. And this staff, this piece of wood, still contains the form of life of that tree, the body that was full of light, the casing, if you will. The great wizard Lucretius called them atoms and said that they are in all of us and in all things living. Can you feel it? Can you feel the power? I don’t have to search for light to bend and focus. This mage-wood, this casing in my hand is the natural home of light; it feels comfortable there. It wants to be there. When I call for light with mage-wood in my hand it comes readily, even eagerly. But a stone? Light does not belong there. It must be coaxed, forced even. Baah, it makes no sense.”
The young boy wandered off so Bel said, “Master? At Lasaat, Rylithnon said that someday a mage would come who would unite all magic. He said it was foretold. A mage who could harness all of the nine forms, both living and non-living, both of the creature and of the land.”
“Ridiculous. Hogwash. He said that? Foolishness.” The old mage leaned against the back wall of the building, shaking his head and looking at the floor.
Kerlith continued, “I think it was kind of like his personal conquest. Even though he was called to stone magic, he wanted to learn everything about all of the nine forms. He constantly spoke to the other masters about it.”
“What? And he spoke openly of this?”
Bel replied, “Yes, Master. Err… not to say what I did wasn’t wrong. It was. I know that now. But sometimes I think that was why he held me back. Because a student of forest magic somehow was able to speak the magic of life from the book of stone mages. Even though it went terribly wrong.”
“Well, of course it did! It’s not in your nature. It is absolutely, positively unnatural! What were you thinking, boy?”
“I don’t know. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Really? Well don’t have any such good ideas when you’re out with me. Just do what you’re told. If you decide you’re going to do something you haven’t been taught then don’t. A forest-mage doing stone magic, huh! Insane!”
The old mage walked back behind the building leaving Kerlith and Bel in silence.
Muolithnon sang as he walked up to them, grabbing Bel and Kerlith’s attention, “Now check out this shave! Oh yeah! Oh yeah! I’m a clean, slippery fish. Can’t wait for tonight. Apprentice, feel how clean my neck is.”
“I’d rather not,” Kerlith replied.
“C’mon, c’mon, feel it. Right there, right there. Feel how smooth it is.” The mage leaned in closer and tilted his head back.
“Errr… okay?” Kerlith touched his master’s neck and the mage squealed, “Yeah! Did you feel that? Nice and smooth. Yeah! Here, Fifth Year, ahh, Bel, feel my neck?”
“No thanks. I need to check on my master.” Bel hopped up and ducked into the inn.
Bel scaled the staircase, entered their room and busied himself with putting his meager belongings into his sack. A long dark shadow formed near the window as a hawk flapped its wings on the other side of the glass. Bel walked towards it and saw Master Nes’egrinon standing there in the shadows, or at least he seemed to standing there. Or floating. It was hard to be certain in the dim light. The youth blinked his eyes and there he was. The mage stood motionless. Bel knew what he thought he saw, what he thought had happened, and he was in awe. Could it be that his master was the same hawk that watched them out in the front of the building some minutes ago? Bel had heard legends of wizards of old being able to transform themselves into such creatures but he, like almost everyone, thought the legends were false and impossible. No one could do that. He stared at him, their eyes met and Bel realized that he truly was the greatest wizard in all of Hellas, in all of the known lands. Bel looked away; he could not hold the archmage’s gaze. There was nothing mean or condescending in his dark eyes yet there was something there that made Bel feel small and the rest of the world very large, the world that Bel did not know and had only heard rumor of, something there, in those eyes, that had seen too much, a vast land of power and intrigue, war and pain, love and loss, and it made Bel feel insignificant and very, very tiny. He did not fear his eyes but he could not stare into the infinity in them either.
The wizard stepped out from the dark and said, “Fifth Year, tell me what will happen tonight.”
Bel shook away his thoughts. “Tonight? I am not a seer. I—”
“If you had been a seer then I would not have chosen you. I am not asking you if you have seen the future only tell me what you think will happen.”
“I think much like yesterday. Except, I suppose, the ghoul-kind know of this new defense we have so… so they will not come at us in the same way,” Bel replied.
“Go on.”
“Last night they did not fear us so they rallied a full frontal attack assuming that the town would quickly crumble. Now they know that we are here so, perhaps, they will try to take us out first? But they know a mass of ghouls rushing us will not work. Perhaps they will try to sneak in?”
The master rubbed his chin. “Yes, I think you are right. That is what I would do if I were leading them.”
“And we know something else. That they have a leader. At least one leader, anyway. There may be more.”
“Good. Good. Think on this more. We will leave soon, perhaps in the morning, perhaps sooner. Be watchful. Be waiting. Do not let your guard down. And store.”
“Store?” The teen asked.
“Yes. Collect energy. Gather it; call to it. There is light. It is far off, but do not be fooled; there is still light in the lands. Call for it now, while it is day, at least daytime somewhere, and gather the light. Store it. We will need it if they attack.”
“Yes, Master.”
“And one other thing, don’t let that stone apprentice get under your skin. I don’t need you distracted out there.”
“Don’t worry. He won’t.”
Bel told Kerlith what his master had said so they spent the rest of the evening out near the rear of the blacksmith’s shed, away from prying eyes, gathering light. The tiny filaments streamed in, some through the sky and coming from distant lands, others from within the village. Some children took to following the wisps of light around and tracked them to where the two sat, eyes clenched, minds locked in a deep concentration. After a time Bel felt more full of energy than he had ever felt. It was an odd sensation.
“Never done this before, huh?” Kerlith quizzed.
“No. You?”
“Never. Never had to. We were always surrounded by life. Who needed to store it up when it was always so plentiful?”
Bel stood and arched his back and looked down at his hands. They looked swollen, as if something inside was pushing to get out and it still bothered him that some of this energy, this life-force that he now held inside of him, most likely came from the villagers. Indeed, even these small children running around him at his knees bothered him as they cried out, “More lights! Make the funny lights come back! Please!” Though Bel knew they were using it to protect them, s
omething didn’t quite feel right about taking it without asking.
Kerlith broke Bel’s thoughts. “It is near time. Let’s go back to the front. The others must be preparing.”
They walked from behind the buildings to see Muolithnon standing in the center court addressing the people. “It won’t be long, my dear people. We will scatter the ghoul-kind then we will be off to stop this eternal night. Mark my words, I am a mage and do not lie.”
Many of the people on the second floor clapped, especially the women, while the men grunted and filled the barrels with oil. Bel and Kerlith joined him and soon Nes’egrinon slowly hobbled out to accompany them.
“Phew. What’s that rank smell?” the aged wizard asked incredulously.
Muolithnon replied, “What… I beg your pardon. That’s my perfume.”
“Oh that will do nicely. We’ll stink the dead away. What’d you do that for? How are we supposed to travel unnoticed in the forest with you smelling like a barrel of rotten cheese?”
The magician turned and waved to a group of women on a far balcony then replied, “I think the scent is quite nice. It’s not for you anyway.”
Kerlith interrupted, “There. The dead. They’re coming.”
The others looked where he was pointing, at the far end of the forest, barely visible from their location. A horde of dead scrambled through the trees at the edge of the forest, their clothing draped from them shredded and soiled with dirt and dry-caked blood. They moved in a panicked aggression, nearly a stampede, as if they could barely control the urge to run, the blood lust was so strong.
“Yes, looks like they are trying to outflank us. They’re going to follow behind that row of buildings then that would put them about there.” The wizard said, perfume wafting off his arm as he pointed between two adjacent buildings about fifteen paces away. “That will still give us enough time to prepare. There is no way they can get from that opening to here without us seeing them.”
Kerlith said, “Master, when are we going to do the big spell?”
Muolithnon replied, “As much as I’d like to just let it fly right now, it would be much better if we didn’t have to do it at all. It requires a huge amount of energy and it would be nice if we could stay fresh for our journey. Besides, maybe the ghouls have wisened up and won’t attack at all. We’ll see.”
Then they charged; ghouls came running out from the adjacent buildings and it was so sudden that even though the wizards knew they would attack, it caught them off guard. It was a concerted attack, but like Nes’egrinon and Bel had discussed, different than before.
“
“Yes, prepare yourselves,” Nes’egrinon replied.
Ghouls had somehow gained a foothold in two of the buildings on either side of the center court and were massed on the first floors. They ran out in pairs from each building synchronously, flailing their arms and screaming, charging at them from either side. Th smell was hideous, the rank decay of rotting flesh.
Nes’egrinon slammed his staff into the ground sending out a tremor that knocked both ghoul-kind and human-kind to the ground. But the dead quickly bound to their feet and continued the attack. Their eyes were glazed. They wanted blood and wanted it now.
The wizards and their apprentices alternately took turns motioning with their staffs or stones flinging the corpses into the air and away from them; the wizards somehow trying to create a gap in the action so they could organize the love spell but stopping the onslaught, even for a moment, was proving nearly impossible. Windows on the buildings smashed as chairs flew through and more ghouls exited through the first floor windows. Now they were coming at them four or five at a time. Each time they flung the ghouls away, the creatures crashed into buildings or the muddy ground, then stood, shook themselves and straightened out their broken limbs, then returned to the fight. There was no stopping them.
The people on the second floor were pouring oil onto the ghouls below but then the dead reached the landing and pushed people off the balconies or dragged them back inside screaming, kicking, clawing and fighting. Once the dead gained control of the two balconies, one leapt off of it towards them, then another, then another. Bel looked over at Kerlith, a worrisome look in his eyes, as the two began to wonder when they were going to repel the whole lot of them with the love spell.
Bel wiped his forehead, thinking it might be starting to rain, then realized that it was the slathering spittle of falling ghoul-kind.
Nes’egrinon said, “It is time. We need to do this now. They are getting too close,” while he continued to fling away ghoul after ghoul after ghoul.
“Aye,” Muolithnon said with a smile. Then a ghoul landed on him.
“
Bel and his master closed ranks as Kerlith bent over his fallen teacher. “Master! Are you okay?” But even as he spoke Kerlith knew that everything was not okay. Blood poured on the side of Muolithnon’s head and as Kerlith turned it, he saw that part of his master’s ear was missing. It had been bitten off.
Kerlith stood. “Now! We must do it now! The three of us, so I can attend to my master!”
Nes’egrinon looked down at the puddle of blood forming around the wizard’s head and said, “Yes. But breathe for a moment first. It will do no good to release it in anger. It is a love spell after all. Calm yourself. Okay? Okay? Join hands. Gather your minds.”
While Bel and Kerlith closed their eyes and focused, the old master continued to fling away incoming attackers, barely able to keep them away by himself. “Okay, now bring it up. Raise your hands. Bring it up to a crescendo. When you can’t hold it anymore, release it.”
The pressure built higher and higher and Bel felt as if in each moment he couldn’t hold it for one second longer. But he did. He had no idea how he did it but he did. He held onto it even though the pressure was going to blow him apart.
Then Kerlith howled, “Now!” and they both pushed with all their might, expelling it, giving birth, bringing forth life; it burst out of them in a resounding shockwave. A purple, hazy cloud erupted around them and wafted across the village and out into the woods and the ghoul-kind ran in a frenzied panic back into the forest.
Kerlith bent over his master and pushed healing into him, hard.
A grave look on his face, Nes’egrinon placed his hand on the apprentice’s shoulder and said, “Hold, son. Not too much. Be careful now. You don’t want to drain yourself. Not here. Let’s get him into the inn.”
They scooped him up and carried him inside, placing him on one of the dining tables. The room filled with women cooing, some asking if they could help. The frail wizard slammed his staff down hard onto the floorboards, howling, “Out!” A shockwave knocked plates off the walls and cracked plaster and floorboards around them. The women scattered.
The mage placed his hand over the young wizards ear and the two teens placed their hands on Nes’egrinon’s back, feeding their life-energy into him. After a number of moments, the old wizard removed his hand and the wound was sealed, but it had a grayness to it.
“Master, the poison of the dead? How do we stop it?” Kerlith asked, his voice near cracking.
“I do not know,” Nes’egrinon replied as he slumped into a chair and daze painted over his face.
Chapter 9
And Then There Were Three
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br /> “How’s he doing?” Bel asked Kerlith, trying to mask what he was thinking, the grim inevitability that his master would soon be dead.
“Doing? How do you think he’s doing? Look at him. His skin continues to become more and more gray. It’s almost all gray now, head to foot. He already looks dead. I don’t know how he’s holding on to tell you the truth. And, well, he stinks.”
“I know. The smell’s everywhere. Decay?”
Kerlith threw his hands up and clenched down his eyes. “He’s rotting.”
“Hey, calm down. How about you? You don’t look too good either.”
“Well, how good could I be? Here I am stuck in the middle of the woods. Me, an apprentice to a stone-mage. You know our magic isn’t that strong when we get away from our lands. We shouldn’t even be here. And here he lies. Look at him. My master. And what is to become of me? If he dies I am too far along in my training to find another to teach me. Who would take me? Especially after this. There aren’t enough masters for new apprentices as it is. And if I become a second, then what? I’ll be stuck hauling water and pig feed for another year? And I’m not far enough on to try to take the tests.”
“But you have to go on. You have to complete the training. You don’t want to become a second-class village magician, do you?”
“What choice do I have?”
Bel’s voice felt shallow as he stared at the man dying. “I don’t know. What’s it been? Three days?”
Kerlith leapt up and walked to the window and looked out at the street below. “Days? Huh. Hadn’t thought… I guess. It’s so hard to tell without sunlight, isn’t it? I was watching the villagers and how they light the torches brighter during the day—what we call day, anyway—then I got to wondering. How do they know?”
Under the Shadow of Darkness: Book 1 of the Apprentice Series Page 7
