by Guy Antibes
Jack drew his sword and walked down to the common room. The innkeeper looked at Jack with surprise. “Didn’t you go with your group and their friends?”
“Friends? What did they look like?” Jack asked.
“Like anyone else, except half of them wore gloves. Isn’t that odd?”
Not at all, Jack thought. “The rooms are a mess, but they will return. I will fetch them,” Jack said. He ran back upstairs and found a hiding place for the golden bowl before he left the inn.
Jack guessed Igar Khotes had recovered and finally caught up to them. He walked out to the stable yard. Their horses were gone, but the packhorse and Jack’s mount were standing in their stalls.
A man stepped from within a stall. “We thought you would return,” the gloved-man sneered. He raised his arms and pronounced a trigger word.
Jack felt his head ache and the magic sword tingle. Its defensive magic was at work.
“Where will we go?” Jack said. He had no idea if he was convincing.
“To an associate’s house in the next village. Come with me.”
Jack mounted. The wizard called out the directions while Jack maneuvered through the narrow village lanes. When he was in sight of the village green, still crowded with market goers, something struck him in the back of his head. His last thought was, “Stupid.”
~
Jack woke in darkness, but he heard Quist’s snore above all else. He lit a flame. All four were sleeping in a basement room since Jack could see the undressed rock walls and a stairway leading up.
He took inventory. His sword, wand, seeker cube, golden bowl, and purse were gone, but the gold coin Heros gave him was still hidden in his shoe. Jack’s head hurt where the wizards had used a mundane means of putting him under their control. Other than that, he felt fine. Quist, Tanner, and Helen couldn’t be stirred, but Jack put his hand on Simara’s wrist and felt a jolt as he did it, before he could feel a trickle of his power move into her.
She blinked her eyes open. Her face fell. “Not again.”
“The Black Finger, if I’m not mistaken,” Jack said.
He still held onto her wrist. “Do you feel compelled, right now?”
Simara shook her head. “No.” She looked down at her wrist. “You didn’t…”
Jack laughed. “I only held on to your wrist for a moment. I felt a little jolt before my power began to move into you.”
“Enough to break the spell. You will have to remember that trick. How did you evade their spell?”
“My sword, which I no longer have,” Jack said, “was able to deflect it. The sword did a lousy job of protecting my head.”
“So they achieved their aims, after all.”
Jack nodded. “But everyone is alive. Was your father with them?”
Simara looked upset. “He was.” She quickly brought up her hand and sighed. “He converted me,” she said, showing a few black fingertips.
“See if the black comes off,” Jack said.
She rubbed them on her dress and left dark smudges. “How?”
“I am a wizard’s helper, after all,” Jack said. “Maybe the jolt eliminated both spells.”
Jack looked at his own fingertips and saw similar smudges. “I thought I might be immune,” he said, thinking back to the time in Fasher’s office where the wizard had done something to him.
“It seems as though you might be. We need to get your objects back so we can continue to track Aramore Gant. First, I can wake up your companions.”
Jack noticed that she had said “your” in referring to Helen, Tanner, and Quist. He had her teach him the spell and successfully tried it out on Tanner. Jack crept up the stairs as the other three complained of headaches. The exit was a trapdoor that was locked.
“We will have to wait for them to let us out,” Simara said.
“No, we won’t,” Tanner said. “Teleport, Jack.”
Jack tried it a few times, but nothing worked. “I lost my power,” he said.
“No, you didn’t. Move higher. Someone has pushed something on the door.”
Jack looked at Tanner and nodded. This was his first attempt at teleporting having something on the other side that kept him from moving. He tried to imagine moving three feet above the next floor.
Jack tried to straighten up but hit his head on the ceiling. He was on a trunk in a closet. He slid off the trunk and found himself on the wrong side, so he had to attempt to climb over the obstruction feet first so he could stand when he succeeded. This time he could see the light coming from the bottom of the door.
He didn’t dare light a flame, not wanting anything to catch fire, so he fumbled for the latch and listened for some time, but no sounds were coming from the other side of the door. The latch wasn’t locked, so he opened the door and peeked out, looking both ways. They were in an empty cottage. If he had captured the enemy, Jack wouldn’t be so arrogant as to leave the cottage unattended. He wondered how foolish the Black Fingers were.
Jack pushed the heavy trunk farther into the closet and unlatched the basement door. His friends climbed out. Helen went to every window.
“Our horses are tied up in the back along with two others,” she said. “That means most of the wizards have left the village.” She looked at Jack. “Why didn’t they take you? Aren’t you a Takia’s font?”
“The wizard must have known I wasn’t affected by the compulsion spell,” Jack said. “Someone will be back, that is for sure.”
“Maybe we should bolt your helmet to your head,” Tanner said. “We need to find out which direction the Black Fingers are headed.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Quist said. “They are going after the Serpent’s Orb as well.”
“But they will need the seeker’s cube.”
“Maybe not,” Simara said. “If the patriarch is after a wizard with other objects, he is probably a Black Finger, as well. My father would know where his dwelling is.”
“So we are the trackers, now,” Tanner said. “Let’s get back to the inn before our captors come back.”
Jack and Tanner pulled the trunk over the trapdoor after they latched it before slipping out the back and taking their horses. It was late morning, Jack finally realized. The wizard must have hit him hard. Helen had found the others’ weapons they had on them, including their purses in one of the rooms on a bed.
They found their way out of the maze of village lanes and headed to the inn that was at the side of the Notiz Road. The innkeeper charged them extra for keeping their rooms intact while they were away, but he did serve them some lunch.
“Your friends didn’t come back this way,” he said.
“So we head north,” Tanner said. “Except we go less prepared.” He looked at Jack. “You will need some kind of weapon at the next village.”
Jack nodded. “At least they didn’t take my armor.” He tapped the bundle of physical protection tied to his saddlebags. He also tapped the golden bowl, successfully retrieved from its hiding place in Jack’s room.
“Put your helmet on your head, the next time,” Tanner said.
Chapter Twenty-One
~
T hey stopped the next day at a reasonably-sized town and entered a weapons shop after Tanner spurned the merchandise in the lone weapons stall at the market.
Helen joined them while Simara and Quist bought supplies in the market. “There are some unique designs here,” she said.
“I want my own sword back,” Jack said. “I wish I knew how to imbue.” Jack hadn’t seen how that worked when he looked through his wizard manual, but maybe Simara might have an idea of how he could fortify a nonmagical sword. He kept going through the swords that were available and found two, but one seemed too heavy and the other too light.
“Do you have something between these two?”
The shopkeeper shook his head. “You look like you will still do some filling out. Take the heavier one and grow into it.”
Tanner agreed, but Helen didn’t. “What good does growin
g into a sword mean when you may be having to use it in a week or two?” she said. “For this purpose, don’t think of the future, think of today.”
Jack held the two swords again and decided to follow Tanner’s advice. He would just practice harder and build some muscles.
The shopkeeper gave a price. Jack thought he could use his father’s purse, but it was about empty, and he was reluctant to use so much of the purse Fasher Tempest had given him for his errand This time, Jack wasn’t about to use his Fashers’ money, so he took off his shoe and showed his Soffez coin to the shopkeeper. “How much is this worth?” Jack said offhandedly. It had already done its work getting them out of trouble before, and Tanner still had his.
“All that I have,” the shopkeeper said. “I am a son of the Soffez. I trust you came by this honestly?”
“Heros is a friend, if you know him,” Jack said.
“A cousin twice removed. You would like a sword between the two? I will look in the back.” He quickly returned. “This should work for you. It was made in our city.”
“We have been there,” Jack said. He was very impressed with the sword. It was as shiny as the one his father had given to him for his eighteenth birthday, but this one wasn’t cheap, not at all. He swung it and smiled. “I like it.” He handed it to Tanner.
“Ah, this is a masterpiece. It has the same weight as the heavy one, but more attention was paid to the balance,” Tanner said.
“Let me,” Helen said. “Wonderful. It is still too heavy for me, but this is the one, Jack.”
“How much, now?” Jack said.
“It is yours,” the man said, but Jack couldn’t take such a wonderful weapon.
“At least let me pay for the sheath and a baldric,” he said. Jack walked out with sword that was a better weapon than Fasher’s.. He was anxious to make it even better if Simara or even Quist could help turn it into an object of power.
“You are still a lousy swordsman,” Tanner said.
Jack grinned. “But I will look so good.”
“And you got a bargain nearly as shrewd,” Helen said. “That sword would easily go for fifty crowns in Dorkansee. I’d be jealous, but my own sword is like an extension to my hand.”
“So is mine,” Tanner said. “Yours will always be a burden, I’m afraid, but we will work extra hard to minimize that.”
Jack hadn’t wanted anything ostentatious, but he had to relent when he saw his new possession. The sword sang to him differently than the magic sword. They met up with Simara and Quist and continued to travel north.
They stopped spending the nights at inns but stopped for meals to ask if a group of gloved men had passed. They were always behind the Black Fingers by a day or so.
Jack worked hard every night with the sword sparring with Tanner and then with Helen. He could feel his muscles begin to respond more to this sword than the magic one that he had used before.
“You are near to where you were with the other blade,” Helen said. “Don’t let it get to your head, but I would say you are about average at this point.”
For Jack, that was a victory. He finally cornered Quist and Simara together to ask them about how to imbue his sword.
“I only know the rudiments,” Quist said.
Simara nodded. “I might know a little more, but to imbue, you need to know the spell that will activate the object, and that is where the art is,” she said.
“I know the spell for my wand, but I didn’t need to say a spell for the sword. It did everything on its own.”
“That is beyond me,” Simara said. “I’m sure it is a Fifth Manipulation,” she said. “I only know one or two spells that help me concentrate when studying. Henry knew more,” she sighed, “but he is unavailable for consultation.”
Jack nodded. “I can turn this into a wand, then. Perhaps I can make it light up. The bowl responded to that.”
“But from what you describe, the bowl acted as a focus,” Quist said. “The blade is flat.”
“It reflects,” Jack said. “We can try, anyway. The seeker cube did things on its own, so that is beyond us.”
Simara brightened. “I know I can’t do it, but perhaps you can also try to put in the spell that defends against compulsion.”
“A triple threat?” Jack asked. He grinned. “I like it.”
They talked about the theory of imbuing. It was all between a wizard’s innate power and the wizard’s will.
“An object of power takes a lot of will. You are subjecting an inanimate object to it,” Quist said. “I was never capable of doing such a thing.”
“Neither am I,” Simara said, “but I was around more powerful wizards when they did it, my father, for example.”
“Perhaps a Takia’s font can imbue it,” Jack said smiling. “Should we try right now? We can try to put in the wand thing first.”
They discussed how the spell worked, and then Simara and Quist sat facing Jack, who sat on the ground with his eyes closed and his legs folded crosswise in front of him. He rested his hands on the bare blade of the sword.
“Use your will to put the power of the spell into the blade. It has to be both,” Simara said.
“There really isn’t anything more to it?” Jack said opening his eyes.
Simara shrugged. “That is all I saw my father do and he was able to make simple objects of power. The golden finger bowl was beyond his abilities, but your power is beyond his.”
Jack nodded. “Here goes.” He closed his eyes again and clutched the golden bowl focusing on drawing its power into his body. He could feel tingling throughout his whole body, and then he concentrated on the object and carried it along with his own power into the blade.
All sense of time was lost to Jack as he continued to assemble more power. It felt like the sword was resisting, so he pushed harder and harder until the resistance fell, and everything rushed into the shiny blade. Jack smiled as his mind went totally blank.
~
“I think he still has power,” Simara said. “Yes, yes he does.”
Jack heard Simara’s words as he blinked awake. “How long was I out?”
“An hour,” Quist said. “You fell right back into the dirt and cut one of your hands on the sword.”
Jack looked at his wrapped hand. The sword was in its sheath by his side. He was almost afraid to touch it, but he reached slowly and put his hand on the pommel. Jack smiled as he felt the familiar tingle of power coming from the sword.
He tried to get up and failed. His body was weak from his wizardly work.
“Go to sleep,” Tanner said. “You probably need to rest up and gather some power before you can try to see if the sword works.”
“I won’t. I think I will sleep where I am.”
Tanner and Quist helped arrange his bed for the night, and Jack fell asleep.
He woke up early the next morning feeling much better. Jack used the sword as a cane and got to his feet. He felt much stronger, but still not perfect. Once outside, he did take the sword out of its sheath, and he pointed it at a rock.
“Zap!” he said. A needle of brilliant white light pierced the dawn and bored into the rock. “It worked!” Jack said. He jumped up and down, but he quickly became dizzy.
“Rest up. Don’t stretch yourself today,” Helen said. “You’ll have more time to practice.”
“But I want to get the other two spells into the sword.” He grinned. “I made an object of power,” he sang. He kept repeating it until the others started giving him dirty looks. “I’m sorry. I’m excited.”
“And acting like a ten-year-old,” Helen said.
“How do you know what I acted like then?”
She snorted. “All boys act like that.”
“And plenty of girls, too,” Simara said giggling.
They left after a hasty breakfast, entering into an area with rolling hills.
“The mountains will appear in a few days,” Simara said.
That night Jack tried to imbue the sword with the light spe
ll, but it didn’t work. “What is wrong? I can feel the same buildup inside me, but the barrier doesn’t break. It seems stronger in some way. Are we trying to do too much?” he said.
“Maybe you can only imbue one thing at a time,” Simara said. “My father never told me about an object that had more than one function.
“But the magic sword?”
Quist put a hand to his chin and thought for a moment. “What did you imbue with the wand spell?”
“The blade,” Jack said.
“Then try to use the guard for light. It is shiny enough.”
“Oh,” Jack said. He examined the guard and located three shiny points pointing forward that were large enough to broadcast some kind of light. He stared at the points for a while, imprinting their location in his mind and then he went into himself again, gathering power. When that was done, he thought of the light spell and then forced his power into the guard. He finally felt resistance break down, and he was certain the guard was imbued, but he was so drained, again, that he fell back into the blankets that Quist had him sit on. Jack went to sleep where he fell.
When Jack woke in the morning. He felt sick and had a hard time keeping his breakfast down. By the afternoon everything had settled down so he could try using the sword to light his way. They stopped at another stretch of dense wood where Jack hardly used any power to invoke the light spell. Three spears of light emitted from the guard. Jack used his will to focus them, which he found draining, but doable.
His power was spent again. “I can’t do the next one for a few days,” Jack said.
“Don’t wait too long,” Tanner said. “We should be getting close to the Black Finger wizards, and they are getting close to the patriarch.”
Jack didn’t use his power again for two full days. They had just passed an inn where the Black Finger wizards had eaten a meal. All they had to do was describe Simara’s father. They decided to spend the night. For all they knew, they would catch up to the group of wizards the next day.
