“She told me wizards could travel to wherever they could see,” Jack said, “but she didn’t mention it was teleportation.”
“Wizards are full of surprises,” Gerlock said.
“Hey, Sally, remember when we were on the hill and Drakin arrived?” Jack said. “There was this massive bang and a bunch of wind. I bet that was their arrival.” He turned to Gerlock. “Why wasn’t there a bang just now?”
“I don’t know much about wizardly things,” Gerlock said, “but I believe it is the principle of the same world versus a different world. In the same world, she is exchanging places, but not forcing her way into another world. When traveling between worlds, there is tremendous energy expended, which arrives with you.”
“Ah, I see,” Jack said, but he didn’t. “Sally, you okay? What are you gonna to do while we wait for her to come back?”
“Fortuna is going to start teaching me ranger woodcraft,” she said. “How ‘bout you?”
“Dirl said he would start my weapons training. I guess I’ll see you at dinner.”
~~~~
Already many miles away, Edalwin visualized the gentle hilltop about a mile away, and moved herself there. From this new vantage point she could see the city of Fortress in the river valley below. So much had changed in two hundred years. When she’d last been there, the Fortress of Arameth had stood tall and lonely beside the river, and she’d battled on the wrong side of the struggle. Now the fortress had become a large city, filled with wealth plundered from all the surrounding lands, if Gerlock was to be believed. Seeing it with her own eyes, she feared he’d spoken the truth.
She looked for a discreet location to land, and picked a barn far down into the valley near a main road. Squinting, she concentrated, and was there. It would now only be a few miles to walk before she reached the city. She cut through a field to the road and set off at a brisk pace.
~~~~
Back in Fortress, Councilor Transom skipped the glass and drank deeply from the bottle. His nerves had been acting up ever since he’d received the package. The shackles still hung in his belt bag and were starting to chafe his thigh when he walked. After taking another pull from the bottle, he headed out of his palace apartment and toward the receiving gallery to continue watching for the promised visitor. The two servants he’d assigned to help followed him as he headed down the hall.
Once in the gallery, he took a seat in the chair he’d positioned deep in the shadows of a servant’s nook. It was tedious work, waiting like this, so he once again opened the bag a bit and fingered the shackles, opening his mind to them. Transom’s skill and knowledge of the Third School of magic was unsurpassed, or so he thought. He probed the shackles harshly, then subtly, but could find neither flaw nor any special property in them. The anonymous gifts and directions he’d received over the course of his four decades of public service had led only to further honors, wealth, and ultimately a seat on the Council. He would not deviate from the instructions, but he wished he could ferret out the significance of the shackles.
A disturbance caught his attention in the hall. A woman had just thrown aside a travel cloak, revealing a wizard’s Green beneath. What madness was this, to wear that robe in these halls? Had she just claimed ‘Edalwin’ as her name? Councilor Transom stood so fast he knocked his chair over and turned to his servants.
“Get my guard! Now! And you, get the message sent!”
~~~~
Standing in the receiving gallery, Edalwin waited. She’d assumed that announcing herself would be enough, but now realized that layers upon layers of stewards, bureaucrats, and various politicians stood between her and the Council. It was nearly full dark, and most of the petitioners had left. She thought about admitting herself into the Council chambers, but decided that anything threatening would be taken in the worst possible way given her past. A gong sounded, and a man surrounded by an escort of several armed guards approached. He was of medium height and build, dressed in rich furs and silks, and carried himself like a man accustomed to wealth. He walked up to her, his hand straying to his side to clasp a bag hanging from his belt.
“I am Councilor Transom,” he said. “And you claim to be?”
“I am Edalwin Wizard,” she answered, “and I’ve come to…”
“Yes, yes,” he interrupted, “the great Edalwin, reappearing after centuries, very interesting. And wearing the Green, of all things. I’m sure you have your reasons for dropping by, and we’d all love to hear about them. But given your past, I don’t suppose it would be wise to bring such a powerful person to the Council, now would it?”
Edalwin felt frustration turning to anger, and bottled it. If this was the raw material of the Wizard’s Council, then her worst fears were confirmed.
“I know!” Transom continued. “I happen to be a mage of the Third School, quite accomplished really in spite of my demanding life of public service. If you would be willing to wear these shackles I’ve fashioned, I think we could all feel safe to bring you to the council. Do you mind?”
The man pulled iron shackles out of his belt bag, and held them out expectantly. Edalwin looked disdainfully at the man, and then held out her wrists. No shackles he had fashioned could restrain her, so there would be no harm in playing along with the charade. Clearly, he thought she was a mad woman.
~~~~
Outside on the palace roof, an undersized dragillian spent the day nestled in a warm corner tucked away out of sight. Toward dusk, it saw the message tube put out on the balcony, and roused itself. In moments it had the tube clutched to its belly as it circled higher and higher toward the strong north-bearing winds just below the clouds. It soared mile after mile northward as the land climbed higher beneath it and the fields gave way to forest. Sometime after full dark, it spotted the light of the camp far below and descended, anticipating the dinner it would soon enjoy.
The man with the black robe waited for the creature, and it dropped the tube into his hands as it soared by him to its crate. It landed and waited, and before long a man walked up and tossed in a dead rabbit. The dragillian tore into the carcass with abandon, and did not notice as all the men and other creatures of the camp set out into the forest. It did look up for a moment when it felt the presence of its much larger cousin take to the air, but then returned to its meal.
~~~~
Back in the forest near the ranger home, Sally felt tired, yet somehow refreshed. She’d been crying far too much the past day, and it had left her feeling drained. She was still horrified that her parents probably thought she had been kidnapped, but she didn’t know what else to do. Edalwin was right; she simply could not risk leading that horrible Drakin to her home.
Her day with Fortuna had been a wonderful, exhausting distraction from her troubles. They were heading back to the ranger vale now, though truthfully Sally had no idea where they were. Fortuna led the way, and Sally was convinced the woman could walk blindfolded through a briar patch, which was a good thing since it had gotten so dark. Soon she would be back at their strange plant-built apartment, enjoying a soak in the hot spring.
An alien cry split the night, and Fortuna immediately turned and slammed a hand over Sally’s mouth to silence her. She dragged Sally toward a thick hedge, and the plant seemed to open for them and close behind. Sally couldn’t see a thing. She turned to where she thought Fortuna’s head should be, then leaned forward until her lips touched hair.
“What was that,” Sally whispered, barely louder than a breath.
Fortuna took Sally’s head in both hands and turned it, putting her mouth right next to Sally’s ear.
“Wyvern.”
Sally shook her head, hoping Fortuna would figure out she didn’t know what a wyvern was.
“A wyvern,” Fortuna breathed in her ear, “is like a dragon, only nimbler in the air. They don’t belong here. Something has gone wrong.”
~~~~
At the palace of Fortress, Councilor Transom could hardly believe he had to put up with this woman’s
lunacy, but the note had been very clear that he was to treat her with the utmost respect until the shackles were on her wrists. He tried hard to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, but it was almost too much, having her claim to be Edalwin. Edalwin Stormbringer indeed. The manacles made a very pleasant click as they shut on her wrists, and then did a funny thing. The seams faded away, leaving a heavy round iron band around each of her wrists connected by five thick chains with no discernible way of removing them. Transom made a mental note to study the shackles further.
“What have you done to me,” the woman cried, looking suitably scared for the first time. Transom slapped her hard for all the stress she had caused him.
“Beat her if she remains silent, and even more if she speaks,” Transom ordered the guards, “then throw her in the cell I selected. Remember, she does not exist. If others find out about her, our arrangement is over, and you will have far less gold lining your pockets.”
~~~~
In the hedge in the forest, Sally lay still next to Fortuna as booted feet tromped by. The wyvern called again, and then again. Minutes passed, and Sally counted. She guessed at least a hundred people or things had passed by where they lay. In those moments she realized she was no longer simply scared, but also fed up. Her conception of evil had been far too mundane, too tame. With that came the thought that her hatred of evil had been far too tame as well.
A few minutes later, shouting echoed through the woods. The rangers were being massacred, she was sure, but she held back the tears. At the first noise, Fortuna sprang up and motioned in the darkness for Sally to follow, then headed out of the hedge through a breach that had not been there moments before. Sally jumped to her feet and followed her into the darkness.
~~~~
In a dark cell deep underneath the palace of Fortress, Edalwin threw her will once more at the shackles, but was rewarded again with a fiery pain in her arms and nothing else.
“I’ve been a fool,” she said to the darkness of her cell.
Drakin’s capabilities had advanced, and he had been prepared. Gerlock had only been half right about the council. They were not merely incompetent bureaucrats enriching themselves at the expense of others. At least some were actively in league with Drakin, while he remained entirely hidden from view.
“What have I done?” she murmured to herself. Edalwin’s face and ribs hurt terribly where the guards had beaten her, so she closed her eyes and composed herself, sitting cross-legged on the dank floor of her tiny, unlit cell. She started breathing in slowly through her nose and out through her mouth. Gradually, the slow tempo of her breathing let her move beyond the pain and anger, to a place where she felt full control of her will. Gentle as a breath, Edalwin applied her mind and will to the shackles, probing for a weakness. She would find a way out. She only hoped it wasn’t too late.
Chapter 6
THORNS
THE EAR-SPLITTING bestial cry jerked Jack fully awake. He heard noise coming from the camp, so he hopped out of the warm spring water and quickly dried off. Dirl had worked him hard for hours, and the warm water had done wonders for his aches and pains, and had almost lulled him to sleep. He threw on his clothes, and noticed the small knapsack Edalwin had brought through the Lodestone lying in the corner. Instinctively, he grabbed it and slung it over his shoulder as he headed out into the ranger vale.
The rangers were all standing in a close circle a short distance away. Jack ran over to them, looking for Sally and Fortuna.
“Are we agreed?” Gerlock said quietly as Jack joined the circle. The others nodded assent.
“Where are Sally and Fortuna?” Jack said. “What was that sound? What’s going on?”
“To action!” Gerlock said, holding up a hand to silence him. The other rangers left in five pairs, heading to various points along the outer vegetative wall of the vale. The moonlight suddenly dimmed for a moment, and the cry rang out above them once again.
“Jack, with me,” Gerlock said, running south to the far side of the vale. “I’ll explain as I can, but our lives hang in the balance.”
Jack felt a rage building in him as he ran after Gerlock. Edalwin had said they were hidden. How could she have been so wrong? Gerlock ran straight at the thorny mass of plants and it parted for him. The two of them ran out into the moonlit forest. Shouts rang out far behind them, and Gerlock stopped to listen.
“That’s our distraction,” Gerlock said in a quiet voice. He handed Jack a large, sheathed hunting knife with two leather straps. “Tie this to your belt like mine, on the diagonal so your movement is not hindered. We must find Fortuna and Sally.”
“How?” Jack said as he strapped on the knife. “Won’t they be on the run?”
“Yes,” Gerlock said, “but Fortuna will know to leave me a trail. We just need to stay alive long enough to find it.”
“Gerlock, what’s after us?”
“From what we heard and could sense from the forest, a large, mixed party, perhaps seventy to a hundred strong, and a wyvern.”
“A wyvern? Like, a dragon type thing?”
“A kind of dragon, yes,” Gerlock said. “Think of a massive, flying snake with a pair of powerful legs up front.”
“Against twelve rangers and two kids,” Jack said.
“Yes,” Gerlock said. “It’s worse than that, though. No mage of the First School could bend a wyvern to his will. It would take a wizard to do that.”
Jack’s fear and anger suddenly overwhelmed him, and he felt himself gag. He fell to the ground and threw up. Hot tears stung his cheeks as he emptied his stomach. Rising to his feet when he was done, Jack scrubbed his face with the back of his hand. Gerlock handed him a small bunch of leaves.
“Chew on these,” he said. “They will settle your stomach and, ah, make your breath tolerable. Now, Jack, listen to me. When evil comes calling, we fight while breath remains. But nothing says we have to fight stupid. To be honest, keeping you alive will be a victory.”
With that, Gerlock set off through the forest. As they ran through the darkness, weaving among the trees lit only by faint moonlight that filtered through the leaves, Jack felt lost. He realized the pull of the Lodestones had always been there, orienting him subconsciously. He had never gotten lost before, and now he knew why. He followed Gerlock blindly, and the ranger’s path through the darkness soon left him completely disoriented.
Suddenly two armed men loomed in the darkness blocking their way. Jack could see very little detail in the nighttime forest shadows, but he saw the gleam of a curved sword before Gerlock closed the distance and attacked. The branches of a tree behind them thrashed forward, Gerlock pounced, and before Jack had time to close the distance to help, both men were down. Gerlock pulled his knife from one of the bodies and motioned Jack forward.
They ran on through the night as before, but now Jack kept a hand on his knife hilt. Gerlock paused and examined a bush, then altered their course and continued. They came to a small clearing, and Gerlock froze. Jack pulled to a stop just short of running into him. Confused, he looked around, and saw a shadowy figure ahead.
“Stand back, Jack,” Gerlock said under his breath. “Mage, Second School.”
Jack stepped back and to the left so he could keep the other mage in view. Gerlock brought his arms forward and down, and the trees around the mage whipped their branches toward him. The mage lifted his arms and flung back the branches with a sharp command. Jack stood in the dark, fearing for his life, as the forest became a ravenous beast, tearing at both men as they dueled. Limbs slashed back and forth, leaves swirled about to blind them, and roots lifted out of the ground to entangle their feet. For several minutes they fought with neither mage gaining an advantage.
Gerlock was suddenly staggered by a blow to the head, and the fight shifted against him. He suffered blow after blow and was finally driven to his knees. Jack stood by and watched, feeling helpless in the face of such power. He didn’t think Gerlock could survive another minute, and began trembling with frustratio
n. On impulse, he pulled out his knife and threw it as hard as he could at the other mage. The knife spun through the air toward the mage’s head, but missed him by inches and disappeared in the forest beyond him.
The mage, however, was startled and jumped to the side. As he did, roots lifted and fouled his feet, and he fell to the ground. More roots surged up out of the ground, wrapping him up, entangling his whole body. Gerlock stood, lifted both hands above his head, and yanked down. The mage screamed as the roots jerked him down beneath the soil, cutting off his voice. Immediately the forest stilled, as though the mage had never existed.
“Thanks for that, Jack,” Gerlock said, moving past where the man had stood. “He got in a lucky blow, but luck or not, I was done for.”
Jack stared at the ground as they went past. Nothing marked the spot where the mage had stood. Gerlock paused after a moment, picked up Jack’s knife, and handed it to him.
“The problem is,” Gerlock said, “they know our general direction now. Any other mages of the Second School would have sensed the conflict, or any wizard for that matter, and wyverns have keen hearing. I fear it’s a race now, and I’m not sure what the finish line is. We’re getting close to Fortuna, though, and she probably heard us as well and is heading this way.”
“I’m here,” Fortuna said, stepping out of the shadows toward them. Sally was behind her, and when she saw Jack, she ran to him and gave him a big hug.
The Lodestone Page 4
