The Wizard's Secret

by Rain Oxford

  On the third day, I asked Vactarus to make all magical objects glow. That wasn’t the best idea, because Vactarus had a huge collection of magical objects from Caldaca and other worlds. Nevertheless, we started the whole search over, specifically focusing on glowing objects. Vactarus assured me that even concealed and disguised objects would glow. On the other hand, things that were disguised glowed even if they were not magical themselves.

  One of the strangest objects I found was a small, jewel-encrusted treasure chest. It glowed from Vactarus’s spell brighter than anything, but I couldn’t open it no matter how hard I tried. When I pointed it out to Vactarus, he assured me it had nothing to do with Sonya. He said it had a blood lock on it and was impossible to open for anyone except the person who sealed it. Something about it called to me.

  At the top of the main staircase was a large gargoyle I had passed many times without thought, so it was a bit of a shock to me when I saw it glowing deep, fiery yellow. It was made of stone with a muscular frame. Although it stood on two legs, its arms were longer than a person’s in proportion. Its head was also very large. Its face more closely resembled an animal’s than a person’s, with a very short, smashed snout and sharp teeth sticking out between its dark gray lips.

  Completely caught up in studying its features, I shrieked when it turned its head to study me back. I continued shrieking until I tripped and started to fall down the stairs. Fortunately, I caught myself on the banister and didn’t go tumbling to my death.

  The gargoyle stared at me with his hard, emotionless face. I cleared my throat and approached the gargoyle cautiously.

  “Good evening… I’m Ayden.”

  The gargoyle showed no sign of having heard me, so I stepped back, hoping to get out of sight without turning my back on him. After a few steps, however, I jumped when a hand settled on my back.

  “Careful there, you don’t want to fall down the stairs,” Mira said affectionately. I realized she was right, that I had been about to fall again, but she went on before I could thank her. “I see you finally met the housekeeper.”

  “Housekeeper?”

  “Yes. Like I said, he’s very shy and doesn’t talk much. He’s very friendly once you get to know him.”

  “Okay. I think it’s time for me to call it a night.”

  She smiled brightly and hugged me. When she pulled away, I forced myself to ignore her sweet scent and glanced at her hands. She didn’t have anything in her hands, but I patted my pocket just in case. My money pouch was still there.

  She pouted when she saw me do it. “We’re friends now, and I don’t steal from friends. Sweet dreams.”

  * * *

  I didn’t have sweet dreams, though. It took me forever to fall asleep, because I kept hearing the whispering. When I finally fell asleep, I immediately started having nightmares of being locked away in a cage. It got even weirder when I dreamed of being bound and laid out on a perfectly drawn pentagram with sigils all around. I knew it was perfectly drawn and I knew that it would kill me by sucking out my life… because it wasn’t me lying there.

  I was seeing through Merlin’s wolf eyes and I knew what he knew. I knew he was in trouble.

  * * *

  I woke myself out of desperation, and as soon as I did, the dream started slipping from my memory. By the time I got out of bed, I couldn’t remember what I saw, only that Merlin was in trouble. I didn’t remember why, but that only spurred me to act.

  I grabbed my still-packed bag, staff, and wand before running out of my room and down the stairs. When I passed the dining room, I heard Mira calling out to me, but I ignored her. By the time I got to the ritual room, I’d forgotten that I’d had a dream.

  The ritual room was not like Magnus’s, because although Vactarus had all kinds of magical tools, he kept them in the basement. There were three windows on one wall, filling the room with early morning light. The opposite wall was taken up by a bookshelf full of very common tools of magic, such as candles and chalk. In the middle of the room was the base of a portal already painted permanently on the floor. An identical pentagram inside a double circle was painted in the ceiling right above it. All around the outer circle was a curtain of crystals hanging from strings, which nearly touched the floor.

  “What are you doing?” Asiago asked, coming down the steps.

  I grabbed a box of chalk and got to work on the pentagram. “Merlin is in trouble. I’m going to his world to help him.” I didn’t know why I was so panicked, only that I couldn’t stop my hand from drawing the sigils. “I remember the code for the portal to his world.”

  “Code?” he asked.

  “That’s what he called it.”

  Vactarus floated down out of the ceiling to stand next to Asiago. “What’s going?” he asked.

  “Merlin is in trouble, so we’re going to his world,” Asiago said.

  I would have missed the worry in Vactarus’s expression if I hadn’t been paying attention. I shook my head. “I’m going alone.”

  “I told you I owe you my life and I meant it. I’m with you until I save you or die. What do you want me to do to help get the portal ready?”

  I didn’t bother arguing with him, because I really didn’t want to go alone. Asiago didn’t know any more about this foreign world than I did, but he was somewhat level-headed, albeit morbid. “I just need to draw the right sigils for the portal. If I get one wrong, we could end up on the wrong world or worse.”

  “Or in the wrong time,” Vactarus said.

  I looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Next to world travel, what is time travel? I can’t read the code, but Merlin could have easily added a couple of sigils to land exactly when he wanted to.”

  “So he could have gone back in time to stop the curse from happening?”

  “Only if he is an utter fool. I take it he hasn’t explained paradoxes to you?”

  “He said they could destroy everything… but there was a moon rose blooming and I wanted to pet it, so I didn’t pay a lot of attention. I never thought I needed to know.” Moon roses only bloomed when both moons were full.

  Vactarus sighed. “You know, for an avid reader, you’re not the most intelligent sorcerer I’ve ever met.”

  “I like books. I can focus on them. It’s hard to listen to someone just talking.” I turned my attention back to the portal. The whispers started again, fading in and out like they were trying to get closer and kept being pulled back.

  “Get five candles down and place them at the points of the pentagram, outside the circle. It will help you focus,” Vactarus said. Asiago immediately did so, and by the time the candles were perfect, I was done drawing the portal. “Are you certain this is correct?”

  I wouldn’t let doubt slow me down. This was more important than when I ran away from home to defeat Magnus. I knew the portal was right. “Yes. We’ll be back with Merlin,” or not at all. I stood in the center of the pentagram with my bag, wand, and staff, and waved my wand at the candles, lighting them all. As the flickering light illuminated the crystals hanging from the ceiling, it created the illusion of a waterfall around me. “Wow.”

  Asiago entered the circle, carefully stepping around the sigils.

  “I’m assuming it can send us both. If we get separated for some reason, find the nearest safe place, stay there, and wait for me to find you.”

  “One more thing before you go,” Vactarus said, pointing to a small treasure chest on the bookshelf. “In there is a pendant that was invaluable on my travels.”

  I stepped out of the portal, opened the box, and found a pendant. It was a round piece of silver, about the width of my palm, with a black fish and a white fish circling each other. “What is it?”

  “It’s called the Siren. I got it from a very pretty young lady. She said it was created for the ‘ultimate quest,’ whatever that is. There are two others related to it out there, and they all do different things. This one translates words, even script.”

  “Than
k you. This will definitely be useful.” I went back into the pentagram. The crystals really helped me block out everything outside the pentagram. “Ready?” I asked Asiago. He nodded.

  I cleared my mind, looked down at the pentagram, visualized it being the night sky, and pushed my magic into it through my staff. Like Merlin had taught me, I aligned the stars into the lines. When my energy vanished into it, I braced myself to feel the strain on my body. For a moment, I felt like a heavy pressure wrapped around me from all sides that squeezed tighter and tighter until I couldn’t breathe.

  Then it was dark.

  Part 2

  Merlin

  Chapter 9

  I was born on a world where magic was feared and rare. Wizards were coveted in war and little more than accessories to kings. The kings who were successful in war were so because their wizards were better than the opponent’s. The lucky wizards were gifted with glamorous trinkets from their king, and no one cared that they were merely servants in the castles. The wizards who lost wars were killed, while the ones who were successful were rewarded with a gilded cage.

  Peace was a long forgotten dream by the time I was born. Our world was overrun by fear and famine. Although the kings all owned at least one wizard, they tried to rid all their enemies of magic. Most wizards were killed on sight unless they impressed the right person.

  One day, a small, forgotten, insignificant village was in the way of King Zokkor’s army. By the time they were gone, the village was reduced to ashes. All that was left standing was a dozen villagers, including my mother. There were nine women and three men who were too old for battle. All of the children were taken. Soon after, it was discovered that my mother had become pregnant during the invasion.

  The other villagers assumed my father was a soldier until I was born, for they quickly realized I had supernatural abilities. I learned to speak, walk, and conceptualize things very early in life. Magic was inherited.

  King Zokkor had a number of wizards, so I never learned which one was my father. My mother always spoke fondly of him, as if he was a prince who would return and take her away from this place. She adamantly refused to admit that he was a wizard, saying instead that my father was a demon from another world. This was probably for the best. Although I was feared and shunned by almost everyone in my village, at least the kings never discovered me.

  I worked in the fields with my mother. Some of the girls made comments about me that I was too young to appreciate, but everyone who remembered my birth spoke as if I had horns and a tail. For most of my childhood, I thought I had some kind of physical deformity that only adults could see.

  On my seventh birthday, I began having dreams. They started gently, such as dreaming of seeing a rabbit in the field and then actually seeing it the next morning. Sometimes I would dream of a trap I could use to capture a rabbit, or even bigger game. Then the dreams began turning violent. Even at that age, I knew I would suffer some horrible treatment if I told anyone, so I kept it to myself. It got bad enough where I would fall out of bed or injure myself flailing to escape the monsters in my mind. Although she must have known, my mother pretended it never happened. The rest of the village assumed she was beating me and that was why I had bruises.

  When I was eight, five travelers were welcomed into our village. They brought food, tools, and weapons we had never seen before, but the most important thing they brought was opportunity. Of the five travelers, four were men— a blacksmith, a leatherworker, a carpenter, and a hunter. Since our village was on a major crossroad, it was the perfect location for them to settle down in, because they could provide for the village and sell to all the surrounding villages.

  As the oldest of only three boys in the village, I became the apprentice to Dantur, our new blacksmith. I loved it; it gave me a sense of place in the village. In exchange for teaching me his trade, I would be in his service for ten years. My only stipulation was that I would not live with him, though I didn’t tell him it was because of my dreams. Thus, I spent most nights in the smithy.

  For months, I worked hard and learned everything I needed to be a blacksmith. The new villagers, especially Dantur, were kind to me. Unfortunately, it could never last. No matter how much I wanted to be normal, I wasn’t.

  On an ordinary day, while I was firing a sword, I suddenly felt very ill. Dantur was out of the shop at the time. I remembered dropping something and then all I could see was fire and a battle. Blades clashed, blood spilled, and people screamed. I saw strangers attacking our village with swords and axes that Dantur and I had built. In my dream, Dantur had me guard the armor and weapons while he fought.

  I saw him standing alone as he tried to guard the women and children. There were just too many fighters on their side, and no one but the newer villagers even knew how to fight. The battle was lost so quickly. Three women and all of the girls had been taken by the invaders and four of the adult men were killed, including Dantur.

  I woke surrounded by fire. Someone was dragging me out, and only when the black smoke and bright fire had given way to sunlight did I realize it was Dantur. Everyone in the village surrounded us while the small smithy burned. Dantur asked me if I was hurt and what happened. Before I could answer, the older members of the village told him that I was the son of a demon and this was to be expected.

  Dantur took me to his home and laid me on his bed. I explained everything about my dream with great dismay, certain he would say it was just a dream and berate me for causing the fire. Instead, he listened carefully and without judgment. “Did you recognize anyone from the other village?” he asked when I was done.

  I started to shake my head when I remembered someone. “Not anyone in particular, but one of them had that broadsword with the black leather hilt and the black, twisted pommel.”

  “We made several that---”

  “It had that nick in the tang I was worried about.”

  “Oh, that one. I see. Did your dream give any indication of when they would attack?”

  “It was night. I didn’t see any snow.” I focused harder than I had ever focused before. I opened my mouth to say I didn’t remember anything, but instead said, “The moon! I saw the moon! It was almost full.”

  “It will be full in just a few days.”

  “So you think it’s really going to happen, then?”

  “I know such premonitions are possible for great wizards. I do think your dream will come true. Maybe it’ll be next month… or it might not be for many months.” He stood. “Get some rest.” With that, he walked back outside.

  I heard him as everyone gathered around him right outside the door.

  “Do not fret; Merlin is fine. He has been up working without sleep for many nights. I have unsettling news, though. On my way back from selling in the west, a soldier warned me that Adelard’s village was going to attack us.”

  I could hear the startled gasps. Several voices drowned out others, but they essentially wanted to know how and when. No one asked why; there was too much war for us to be overlooked for long.

  “I can’t be sure, but I do think we have time to prepare.”

  * * *

  Over the next month, Dantur prepared everyone in the village for battle, including the women. Although none of them were trained, the women of those days were tough. When the neighboring villagers showed up to attack, just as they had in my dream, we were still outnumbered, but we were somewhat prepared. The smithy was cleared out, so instead of having me guard it, Dantur wanted me to guard the other children. I wanted to help fight, but I was too little to be of much help. We did lose two women and our eldest man, but we drove the enemy out.

  Life settled down for a while after that, although Dantur always wanted to know about my dreams. In fact, the dreams weren’t as violent. When I was nine, my dreams changed altogether. I started seeing things that didn’t exist in my world. Some of the crafts and weapons could be confused as just foreign, but I saw steam-engine weapons and electronics. The weirdest part was that I someh
ow knew they were all real. I even knew their names.

  When I had a dream in which I stood before a cave at the base of a mountain, I felt very strange for the rest of the day. For the next three nights, I had the same dream where there was a deep voice speaking from the darkness of the cave. When I tried to approach the cave, I was shocked by the heavy waves of heat. I woke from the dream sweating heavily.

  Then, I began to understand the voice, at least enough to know it was directed at me. I told Dantur about it and he let me sleep longer, hoping to make me understand it better. It didn’t work. After a few nights, I finally saw the creature who was speaking to me.

  It was a black dragon. I didn’t see his body, since only his face was visible out of the blackness of the cave. There were two, long, curved horns on his head and smoke billowing from his snout.

  When I woke, I told Dantur about it. Surprisingly, he wasn’t shocked or confused. He said that he knew there were dragons to the north and suggested I listen to what the dragon had to say if I dreamed of it again. That night, I did just that. When I faced the dragon, I asked, “Are you real?”

  “Of course, young wizard. I am Cennuth.”

  “Why am I having dreams about you?”

  “Your powers are developing without direction, and this can only lead to destruction. You need guidance. I can teach you the magic you need to reach your potential.”

  “I don’t want to learn magic. I just want to live in my village.”

  “You cannot remain a child forever.”

  “Why me?”

  “You are destined to end the war against magic.”

  “I refuse. I’m not going to learn magic.”