Wizard Pair (Book 3)

by James Eggebeen

  "You know him," the dragon said. "You and he are tied. I can feel a faint echo of you in his call. Through you, we may yet survive."

  "What do you want us to do?"

  "There is magic that lies deep beneath the earth. You can tap into it, and gain the power to defeat him."

  "What spells do we need to save you?"

  "Go to Rohir to gain power. From there we will guide you on the remainder of your journey."

  "What are we to do there?" Rotiaqua squeezed Zhimosom's hand.

  "It is hidden. You may save us, at a great cost to both Wizards and dragons alike. There is no easy way. Many will die on both sides. If you fail or refuse to help, all of the dragons will die. If you succeed, we will live on. Not as we are today, but we will continue, one day to be reborn. More than that I cannot say."

  "How can we possibly help you? There must be some way to save the dragons without lives being lost," Rotiaqua said.

  "You will have all the power you need to save us." The dragon smiled, showing teeth as long as Rotiaqua's forearm. "The dragon's blood runs in your veins. You are part of the dragon clan. If we die, so do you."

  With that, the dragon lifted its mighty head. It inhaled a deep breath and shot fire into the night sky. Rotiaqua was blinded by the light, but she heard the flap of the dragon's wings and knew that it was gone.

  Rotiaqua reached out and squeezed Zhimosom's hand once more before letting go.

  "Dragon's blood?" Zhimosom asked.

  She peered into his eyes. "I fear you have the dragon's blood in your veins, as well. When we swore our blood oath, I felt it enter your body."

  Hodon

  Zhimosom was in favor of camping outside the city when they reached Hodon, but he let Rotiaqua and Garlath talk him into hiring a room at the White Rose Inn. They arrived just before the noon meal and made themselves comfortable in the dining room.

  "We only have enough funds to stay at the inn one night," Zhimosom grumbled into his ale. "We could have bought supplies."

  "There is not enough coin for supplies as it is. We'll have to live off the land from now on," Garlath said. "Might as well enjoy one night in the inn before we start out again."

  "I still have coin." Rotiaqua fingered her belt.

  "We can't change that at the inn," Zhimosom said.

  "Not at the inn," Rotiaqua said. "But there are factors here, in Hodon, who would be able to. I'll look around for someone who might have the coin. Maybe a lumber dealer or a horse trader. They have lots of coin on hand."

  "You know how I feel about it." Zhimosom still worried that there would be agents of the Baron on their trail somehow, even though they hadn't seen any indication of pursuit since they left the Barony.

  "I'll be careful." Rotiaqua stood up to leave.

  "Now?" Zhimosom asked. "By yourself?"

  "Yes, by myself. I think I'll be less conspicuous if I go alone, don't you?"

  "I'm coming with you," Zhimosom said.

  Rotiaqua just shrugged.

  Zhimosom turned to Garlath. "Are you coming?"

  "Not me." Garlath attacked the roast fowl in front of him. "I'm eating."

  "We'll meet you back at the Inn later tonight," Zhimosom said.

  Garlath simply waved the fowl leg in the air at Zhimosom and turned back to grab another hunk of bread.

  Near the outskirts of town Zhimosom and Rotiaqua found a large building stacked with logs and cut lumber. The smell of pine mingled with a faint odor of burned wood. Sawdust drifted out of it and down the street. Zhimosom watched in silence as Rotiaqua approached the factor.

  "Kind sir, I am looking to exchange some coin. I fear that many cannot change my Golds for me, but you look like a prosperous man. Can you provide me with a fair exchange?"

  The factor was a large man, towering over Rotiaqua. He was wide and powerfully built from all the lifting and cutting. "I could, but I'd need a little bit for my trouble."

  "How much for two Golds?" Rotiaqua asked.

  The factor held out his hand. "Let me see them."

  Rotiaqua fished them out of her belt and handed them over. The factor weighed them in his hand, tossing them up and catching them to judge their weight. "Hmmm... I can give you eighteen Silvers for the two of these."

  "Eighteen Silvers?" Rotiaqua extended her palm.

  "Wait a moment, miss. These are Frostan. Frostan Golds are a little lighter than we use around here. Eighteen is fair. You'll find our Silvers are heavier than you get in Frostan, too."

  "Dala!" he shouted.

  A girl about eleven summers in age answered his call. "Yes, father?"

  He hunched down to look the girl in the eyes. "Run and tell your mother that I need coin to change two Golds ... Frostan Golds."

  "Right away, father." The girl turned to leave, but the factor restrained her.

  "Frostan Golds. Don't forget to tell her they're Frostan Golds."

  "Yes, father." The girl disappeared into the factorage.

  "How about eighteen Silvers and ten coppers," Rotiaqua said. "That should be more than fair if I recall my exchange rates. Frostan Gold's not that light compared to Hodon."

  The factor raised his eyebrow at Rotiaqua. "Were you raised by a factor? You sure know your coin."

  "Father was a cloth merchant," she lied.

  "You have a sharp mind there. How about eighteen Silver and five coppers?"

  Rotiaqua drummed her fingers on the table. She stared the factor in the eye the whole time and didn't look away. Zhimosom saw the factor grow restless under her glare.

  Before either one of them spoke, the girl returned with a small leather pouch. She handed it to the factor.

  The factor hunched down again as he spoke to her. "Did you tell your mother it was Frostan Golds?"

  "Yes father, just like you asked."

  "Thank you, Dala."

  The girl nodded her head and rushed back inside.

  The factor picked his way through the coins in the pouch. He set them on the table, counting out eighteen Silvers and six Coppers. He looked up at Rotiaqua questioningly.

  "I'll take them." Rotiaqua picked up each coin and examined it. She dropped them one by one onto the table, then onto another coin. She selected one and lifted it up, judging the weight of it in her hand. She handed it back to the factor. "Not this one."

  The factor took the proffered coin and stuffed it into his pouch. He came away with another coin that proved to be satisfactory.

  "Thank you." Rotiaqua bowed to the Factor. She turned to Zhimosom and extended her arm. "Let's do a little shopping on the way back to the inn."

  Zhimosom reluctantly followed Rotiaqua through the market. She strolled along poking her head into stalls, fingering merchandise, talking to the proprietors, and engaging in conversations about the weather, the price of merchandise and even the state of the world until he grew impatient and left Rotiaqua to explore on his own. He agreed to meet Rotiaqua at the market entrance when she was done.

  He found a stall where the proprietor sold knives and swords. Zhimosom looked them over wishfully.

  "This knife is the finest steel money can buy." The proprietor lifted a finely crafted knife out of the display and handed it to Zhimosom. "Be careful with it. It's so sharp, it can split a hair lengthwise ... twice."

  Zhimosom looked it over. The handle was carved from the finest ivory, the blade was so shiny, it could have been made of silver, but Zhimosom knew it wasn't. It was sky iron, worked by a Wizard. Indeed, this was a fine specimen.

  "What do you think?" the proprietor asked.

  "I think I could never afford one of these." Zhimosom handed the knife back.

  "What are you carrying?" the proprietor leaned over the table and grabbed Zhimosom's knife before he could protest. The knife had been old and rusty when he received it. He had honed it and worked it as they walked and it had taken on a clear sheen, just like the scythe blade back home. The blade looked like sky iron and the handle had morphed from wood glued together into the fines
t ebony. It was polished to a mirror finish. The knife was perfectly balanced and as sharp as any razor.

  The proprietor took the blade and placed it against his arm. This was the test of any knife edge. Could you shave yourself with it?

  As he set the blade against his arm, a bright red line appeared. The proprietor pulled the knife away from his skin and handed it back to Zhimosom by the black handle, careful to avoid the blade.

  "That's worth more than the knife I just showed you," the proprietor said. "Are you trying to start something? Claiming you're a poor lad, when you carry a knife such as this. Where did you get this?"

  "It's been in my family for years. I got it from my father." Zhimosom slid the blade back into its sheath. He backed away from the stall and turned for the entrance. He ran as fast as he could, dodging patrons as he fled.

  He found a comfortable spot along the road, just outside the market. He sat down beneath a shade tree and waited for Rotiaqua to emerge.

  He noted the shadows and watched them slowly crawl along the ground. After a while, Zhimosom scrounged a piece of soft wood and started carving. Soon he had a nice little pile of chips between his feet and the wood was beginning to take shape.

  "Is that a dragon?"

  Zhimosom looked up to see a young girl. She was about ten summers in age and reminded him of Brill. A flash of guilt came over him and he swallowed hard. "Yes, it's a dragon."

  "Can I see it?"

  Zhimosom handed it over to the girl. She examined it carefully, and then held it out. "Dragons aren't real."

  Zhimosom shrugged his shoulders. “I'm just wasting time waiting for my friend."

  "What's he look like?"

  "She." Zhimosom stood. He lifted his hand to his shoulder. "She's about this tall and has long brown wavy hair. She's about my age ... a little older but not much. She's wearing a blue scarf."

  "The Guards took someone away a little while ago." The girl said. "She wore a blue scarf, too."

  "What?" Zhimosom looked around in panic. "Where did they take her?"

  "To the goal. Over that way, by the court house." The girl pointed down the road. Zhimosom rushed to follow her direction.

  "Mister. Your dragon."

  "Keep it." Zhimosom sprinted down the road in search of the gaol.

  Zhimosom had to stop and ask where the court house was but soon found the gaol out front. It was a stocky short building fabricated of heavy logs mortared together with coarse gray plaster. The small door at the front of the building was flanked by a pair of Guards. Rotiaqua's magic emanated from the cell, but it was muted.

  Zhimosom stopped short when he saw the Guards. He found an inconspicuous spot in the deep shade of an alleyway. He sat down and opened his mind to Rotiaqua.

  "They say there is a reward out for me ... and for you," Rotiaqua's thoughts came to him.

  "What happened?"

  "After you left, I was looking over the goods in the leather shop. Two Guards came up behind me and threw some sort of talisman over my neck. It damped out my magic so I couldn't do anything. They dragged me to this cell."

  Zhimosom heard the fear in her voice. She was stuck and couldn't use magic to get herself out of it. He tried to break the spell, but it was complex and there was another spell shielding the gaol from his magic, too.

  "I can't break you out. I'll go get Garlath."

  "Wait. Don't go."

  "I won't abandon you. I need Garlath's help to get you out."

  "Promise me you won't leave me here."

  Rotiaqua's voice came to him. Her usual good humor was missing. Zhimosom knew she was genuinely frightened. He pushed a sense of calm and assurance to her. "I won't leave you."

  "Be careful. Now that they have me, they know you're around. The reward for your capture is even higher than mine."

  "I'll be right back with Garlath."

  Zhimosom ran for the inn. When he got there, Garlath was napping in the room.

  "Wake up. They have her." Zhimosom shook the Wizard.

  "What? Who? Have who?"

  "Rotiaqua. They have her. She's locked in the gaol. It's spelled. I can't break through. They have her."

  Garlath sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Slow down. Did you say she was in the gaol?"

  "Yes, she's in the gaol ... Near the court house ... It's spelled ..." Zhimosom panted.

  "Slow down." Garlath put his hand on Zhimosom's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "Start at the beginning."

  "We made change at the lumber factor. After that Rotiaqua went shopping. I got bored, so I waited for her outside the market. A girl told me she's been arrested. Rotiaqua's in the gaol and it's spelled so I can't get her out. I can barely talk to her. She's scared, Garlath, really scared."

  "Take me there."

  Zhimosom wound his way back to the court house. When they got close to the gaol, it was empty. The door stood open and the Guards were gone.

  "Where is she?" Zhimosom cried. "What have they done to her?"

  "She's probably in there." Garlath pointed to the stately building that housed the court. "Let's see if we can get inside."

  "Wait! She said they were looking for me, too." Zhimosom grabbed Garlath by the sleeve and pulled him back. "I can't go in there."

  "Hmmm ..." Garlath looked him over. "This would be a lot easier of you weren't so tall."

  "Tall? What's wrong with my height?"

  Garlath waved his hands in the air in front of Zhimosom. A slight gold light shimmered between the Wizard's outstretched palms, growing brighter. It spread out and wafted towards Zhimosom, spreading thin until he was completely bathed in the light.

  Zhimosom felt strange. His face tingled. It was hard to stand straight, so he stooped over. His vision became foggy and his right leg grew numb.

  "If you were shorter, I could have made you look like a girl. If they were looking for a young man, a girl would be the last one they would suspect. Since you're too tall to be a girl, the only option is to mask your youth."

  Zhimosom looked at Garlath. Had the Wizard changed his appearance? He looked at his hands. They were the hands of an old man. He touched his face and felt a long beard and wrinkles. He turned questioningly to Garlath.

  "You look fine. Let's go."

  As they approached the court house, the Guard stepped in their path. "No visitors."

  "We are here as witnesses."

  "Not in this trial. No visitors." The Guard stared at them in challenge.

  "What trial is this, then?"

  "Some Noble Woman who ran off with a Wizard. There are no witnesses in this case. The court is closed. Move on."

  Garlath bowed. "Thank you, Sire." He pulled Zhimosom off to the side of the building and into the shadows.

  "What now?" Zhimosom asked.

  Garlath ignored his question. He stepped to the courthouse wall and circled his hand, rubbing the wall with his palm. A dim gold light followed his hand as he made large sweeping arcs on the wall. The trail of light smeared out behind his hand until a large circle about two spans in diameter formed from the golden sparkles. As the sparkles dimmed, the wall behind vanished. Zhimosom and Garlath were looking directly into the courtroom.

  Zhimosom took a step back. "Can they see us?"

  "No. But we can see them, and hear them. We're still outside of the court house. They can't see or hear us."

  "Order!" the bailiff shouted and everyone stood.

  The Judge entered. He had short cropped hair with streaks of gray and had wrinkles around his eyes from a perpetual scowl. He scanned the courtroom and took his place in front.

  Rotiaqua stood with her hands chained to a ring in the table before her. She had a thick green braided rope around her neck. Zhimosom saw how she stood straight and proud even in chains before the Judge.

  The gavel banged on the desk and the bailiff shouted. "Court is now in session. You may be seated."

  The few people that populated the benches sat.

  Beside Rotiaqua stood a rough looking man dressed
in travel clothes. His hair was dark, almost black, and he wore it long but tied into a single braid that reached the middle of his back.

  "A bounty hunter," Garlath said.

  "A what hunter?" Zhimosom had never heard the term before.

  "Someone who hunts down wanted individuals to get the reward. They're ruthless and ill tempered and care little for anyone."

  The judge consulted his papers. "How do you know this is the girl they seek?"

  "Your Honor," the bounty hunter said. "The girl passed off two gold coins from Frostan this morning. She speaks with a High Frostan accent and she matches the description that the Baron provided."

  "Surely that is not enough to confirm her as his daughter."

  "She has magic, as the warrant states. I used a talisman on her that confirmed it. That is why she wears the rope. It prevents her from exercising her magic."

  The judge looked at Rotiaqua. "What have you to say for yourself?"

  "Nothing, Your Honor. It is a case of mistaken identity. I am a simple girl, who makes her living by purchasing fabric and turning it into clothes for a profit."

  The judge rubbed his chin. "Hmmm ... I see what you mean." He turned back to Rotiaqua. "You speak well for an ignorant peasant girl. Your High Frostan is very pronounced."

  The judge turned back to the bounty hunter. "Any further evidence before I decide?"

  "She was seen in the company of a young man, who speaks with a Low Frostan accent. He meets the description the Baron provided as the kidnapper."

  "You haven't found the man?"

  "Not yet, Your Honor, but we're seeking him. He can't have gone far. He was seen in the marketplace with her just before we apprehended her."

  The judge turned back to the bounty hunter. "The bounty on this one?"

  "Twenty-five Golds."

  The judge whistled. "That's a generous bounty. How about the boy?"

  The bounty hunter lowered his eyes. "I'd rather not say until I apprehend him. I don't want someone claiming the bounty before I do."

  "I see your point. Commission on your bounty for the girl is two Golds and five Silvers - ten percent."