"We're getting close. It's just around the bend." The guide navigated the cavern, sometimes poling the boat, other times using the pole against the overhead rocks.
They reached another divergent cavern. The water in this one was steaming and bubbling.
"We're going there?" Zhimosom asked.
"No. The water is too hot. If you fell in, you'd be cooked before you could swim to the shore.
"Watch." The guide pointed off in the distance.
A plume of steam erupted from the surface of the water, and crash against the rocks overhead. The water splashed off the ceiling and fell noisily into the lake below. Just as everything settled, it happened again.
Zhimosom sat there fascinated as the water rushed into the earth only to rise moments later as steam. He felt the power within the steam. There was magic in it.
"Do you feel it?" Garlath asked.
"Yes. I do. It's very powerful."
"Can you touch it?" Garlath asked.
"Touch it?"
"Reach out and touch it. See if you can channel it."
Zhimosom reached out to touch the power beneath that steam. He was amazed by the magic of it, as if his tongue were experiencing a new taste or his eyes seeing a new color. It was strange and wonderful. He grasped it, drawing the magic into himself.
Suddenly, the cavern brightened as if the noonday sun had emerged. It was blinding. Zhimosom felt as if he'd grown a span in height. He felt powerful, elated, undefeatable. He wanted to shout with the pure joy of it.
"Control it." Zhimosom heard a voice far off in the distance calling to him.
He ignored the words. The power was too great. He just soaked it in, absorbed it, and made it a part of himself. A blinding pain stabbed Zhimosom behind the eyes as if someone had jabbed a needle into each one. He covered his eyes with his hands and screamed.
The light spell he had been maintaining faltered, plunging them back into absolute darkness.
"Control it. Don't try to absorb it all." Zhimosom heard Garlath's words. He grasped the power, throttling it, choking it off until just a trickle of it ran through him. The light returned, but not all the way back to its former level.
"Remember that flavor," Garlath said. "Memorize the taste of it. You will be able to access it at need."
When they returned to the palace, Zhimosom wanted to see how much of the magic below made it from the caverns up to the pools. Maybe that accounted for the healing properties of the water. He was eager to share it with Rotiaqua, but she was off with the Queen and didn't return until late.
Zhimosom rose early in the morning and knocked on Rotiaqua's door.
"Come see the pools. They're fed by hot springs from beneath the earth. There's magic in them."
Rotiaqua quickly dressed and followed him outside. The morning sun had just started to burn the dew from the grass. The pools shimmered with mist as the hot water met the cold morning air.
"I still feel the power," Zhimosom said. "Can you touch it?"
"I can feel it through you, but I can't touch it directly. Can you guide me to it?"
Zhimosom reached out to her and joined his magic to hers. He reached deep within the earth to the heart of steam that powered the pools. He found that source of magic, tracking it down by feel, by smell and taste. He shared it with her, showing her how he had harnessed and directed it while in the cavern.
"I suppose we'd better get going soon," Rotiaqua said. "We need to get to Amedon and find the right spells now that we have access to this power."
"Garlath says we leave right away. He has been in contact with the Wizards in Amedon. They have begun searching for the spells we'll need to protect the dragons."
"So we leave soon. Will I get a chance to say goodbye to the Queen?"
"Not leave. We're traveling ... by magic."
"By magic? I thought that took a lot of power."
"It does, but don't you feel the power of the pools? We can use that to travel to Amedon. We will be there in no time at all."
"Then I definitely need to say goodbye."
Rotiaqua stood up and turned for the palace entrance.
Zhimosom frowned. "Where are you going?"
"To see the Queen before we leave. There's something I need to do."
"We should leave now. There's no time to waste."
"This is important. I'll be back as quick as I can." Rotiaqua dashed through the door that led to the palace.
Not long after Rotiaqua left to say her goodbye, Zhimosom felt power well up in him. Rotiaqua was performing a spell, and she was drawing from him. He felt the magic of the pools blending with his own as she worked her spell.
He tried to contact her, to find out what troubled her that she needed such power. He felt her brush his touch away.
"Not now," was all he heard in response to his query.
"What are you doing?" Zhimosom asked. He felt the power drain from him and tried to restrain it, to bar her use from it, but she continued. He struggled harder.
"Don't fight me on this!" Rotiaqua scolded him.
"What's happening?" Zhimosom pushed the thought to her.
"Trust me. Please."
He grudgingly relaxed and allowed her to draw power through him. It went on a while before it subsided. When she stopped, Zhimosom felt a tingling sensation. The city had changed subtly, but he could not tell what had happened.
Rotiaqua came rushing back into the room. She looked exhausted, as if she had not slept in days. Her face was drawn and grayish. Zhimosom reached out to her with his magic and pushed power into her. The color returned to her face.
"What happened?"
"I ... fixed ... it," she panted.
"Fixed what?"
"I fixed the city." She bent over, trying to catch her breath.
"What was wrong with the city?"
"The men." Rotiaqua said as if that explained everything.
"What about the men?" Zhimosom didn't like the way this was heading. "What did you do?"
"I cast a spell that will give the women magical powers over the men. No more will the men rule the women. Now the women have magic. They can defend themselves. There will be no inequality, the women will see to that."
"What kind of spell?"
"A subjugation spell. It stops the men from making slaves of the women. It gives them the power to fight back. It frees them to be women so this society can return to normal."
"Are you sure that was wise?" Zhimosom asked.
"Yes. What harm can come of it?"
Before Rotiaqua stopped speaking, the ground began to shake beneath their feet. The palace swayed. The water in the pools sloshed from side to side and spilled on the ground. Cries and screams came from within the palace.
Ryden
Sulrad spent his nights in the study beneath the city. He had suspended the digging in order to keep the workmen from accidentally discovering that he had opened the door. Sulrad didn't need the Baron catching wind that he had discovered a buried treasure room beneath the city. He preferred it remain his secret.
Now that Sulrad had become accustomed to the language written on the scrolls, he was able to read more of them. He could hardly contain his excitement. The message on the scrolls was tantalizing. The writing hinted at a spell that had the power to command the dragons, not just summon them. Only hints, nothing that Sulrad could act upon, but he knew the answer had to be somewhere in the scrolls.
Night after night, he sat behind the desk, reading, researching, cross referencing, until a story became clear. In the days of old, a Wizard had fashioned a charm. The Charm of the Joiner had the ability to store magic, more magic than any one Wizard could hope to hold inside himself and live.
This Wizard had fashioned the amulet out of gold mined beneath the face of the Ice Father. He had enhanced it with the magic of precious stones dug from the caves of fire. The most precious gem, he had stolen from the mines beneath Friega. That stone alone was worth more than any castle or kingdom, for it had the abilit
y to store magic.
The Wizard Skelek had come to own the amulet. He had used it on the dragons during his final battle with the Wizard Endra. The scrolls said no more than that. Skelek had worn the Charm of the Joiner when he departed for Ryden to battle his enemies, and he had never returned.
Sulrad took out a sheet of parchment and laid it on top of the drawing. He carefully traced the lines until he had a copy of the illustration of the Charm. He rolled up the parchment and slid it into his sleeve, but that was not the end of his search. Sulrad knew that there had to be a spell to make the amulet work.
He searched day and night, sometimes forgetting to sleep or eat for days. He grew irritable, snapping at Veran whenever the younger Priest asked him what occupied him so. Finally, Sulrad relented. He would have to bring Veran into his plans.
"I have found tales of an artifact that can help us," Sulrad told Veran. "It will let us solidify the Temple's power and assure our continued ability to carry out the works of Ran."
"What artifact?"
"I would rather not say at this time, but I will be pursuing it. Until I locate it, I need you to take on the day-to-day running of the Temple." Sulrad watched Veran for signs that the young Priest was eager to take on the responsibility. If he were too humble, he would not make a good High Priest. If he were too proud, he could not be trusted with so much power.
"As you wish," Veran bowed his head.
"Veran, I trust you to do this. I must take my leave for a while, but when I return, together we will raise a Temple like nothing you could ever imagine."
"Yes, Father."
Sulrad returned to his studies. The scrolls revealed much, but the spell escaped him. His health deteriorated to the point that even the Baron got word of his condition.
Several days later, Sulrad received a breakfast invitation from the Baron. Sulrad had refused several earlier invitations, but the wording of this one made it clear that it was more than a pleasantry. He cleaned himself up as best he could and made his way to the castle while the dew was still on the grass. The only folk about were the farmers setting up their stalls in the market.
The Baron eyed him suspiciously. "You look like death."
"I have been ill," Sulrad lied.
"Ill? You're a healer, how is it you have become ill?" The Baron laughed as he lifted his chalice to his lips.
"Not ill from disease. I have been studying, researching. I fear I have let it consume me."
"Researching? What can be so important that you neglect your health?" The Baron set his chalice down and leaned in to listen.
Sulrad's heart beat faster. He could not tell the Baron what he had found. "Your daughter, My Lord."
"My daughter? What of her?"
"I believe I know where she is. Where the Wizard who has taken her captive holds her," Sulrad lied.
"Why should I care? I've disowned her. She was your problem, not mine. The last I saw of her was when I handed her over to you for training. You want to waste your time looking for her, be my guest."
"My Lord. It is not your daughter that concerns me. It is the Wizard who has taken her captive. You must bring him to justice. You cannot let him get away unpunished."
Sulrad knew that if he played on the Baron's arrogance, he could secure the Golds he needed to fund the next phase of his search for the Dragon Master's secrets. "He has wronged you. This must not stand. How will you retain the respect of your subjects if it becomes known that you let a Wizard, a young man, abscond with your daughter and did nothing when you found out where he was?"
The Baron shifted in his chair. Sulrad knew Baron Rieck was uncomfortable about his reputation being tarnished. Sulrad pushed the matter further.
"They are still together, My Lord. I can bring them both back. A proper execution would serve as a lesson."
The Baron stroked his chin.
Sulrad held his peace. He was almost there.
"Where is she?"
Sulrad was not going to tell the Baron about his failed bounty hunter who had located them in Hodon. He needed the Baron's help, but had to be careful. "He is holding her captive in Ryden."
The Baron stood up and motioned to his attendant. "I will send troops there."
Sulrad's heart raced. Maybe he had pushed too far. "Would you start a war? You can't send your men into Ryden."
"Did you not just counsel me to go after the Wizard who has taken my daughter?" The Baron waved the Guard away.
"I did, My Lord. But I don't believe this is a job for the army. You could well start a war by sending your knights into Ryden. Send me. I will be able to find them. Your men will not."
Sulrad waved his hand in the air. "The Wizard has bewitched her. Your men would walk right past her and not recognize her." Sulrad smiled to himself. The lie was becoming more valuable with each telling.
"I will go. I will free her and capture the rogue Wizard. I can sail to Ryden, find her, break the Wizard's spells, and bring them both back." Sulrad looked down at his plate so as not to appear too eager. "I will need funds and supplies."
"It's always Golds with you, isn't it?"
"My Lord. I go to restore your honor. How can you put a price on that?"
The Baron sat down heavily and sighed. His face turned hard. "Fine. Let the purser know what you need. If you don't find her, Sulrad, then don't bother coming back."
Sulrad planned to travel by ship to Ryden. He would have to wait for one that could carry him as a passenger. He wanted to take the most direct route. His magic would be diminished at sea and he didn’t want to prolong his vulnerability.
Sulrad continued his studies while he waited. He searched for the oldest scrolls he could find until one day he found it. The key. It was elegant in its simplicity. He berated himself for not seeing it earlier.
It was right under his nose all along.
The amulet could store magic, but it took a lot to power the binding spell on a dragon. Binding a dragon took power almost equal to the magic of the dragon one wished to enchant. He would take the life of a dragon and use its power to drive the binding spell on a second dragon. Only then would he have enough magic to bind a dragon to his will.
Sulrad knew of several binding incantations that might work. He carefully transcribed them into his journal, and spelled it to erase itself should anyone open the book but him. He pocketed the book and prepared to leave.
It was four days before a ship came into port that could take Sulrad to Ryden. He packed his belongings, taking care not to leave anything behind that he might need. Before he boarded the ship, he rushed to the Wizard's study deep within the tunnels. He retrieved a few scrolls he wanted to take with him and tidied up the place. He stopped in the doorway of the study. He was not sure if he would be returning. If not, the scrolls posed a risk. If someone else gained access to the study, they too, would have access to the knowledge he had so carefully acquired.
He looked back on the scrolls; what if he had missed something? He might need them, but if he left them behind, they could be found by another. "Too much risk... No helping it," he muttered to himself. Sulrad raised his hand and created a fireball of bright blue energy. He flung it at the scroll room behind him. Fire washed over the ancient parchment, licking away the knowledge of the ancient Wizard. Sulrad laughed as he closed and sealed the door one last time.
At the port, the captain haggled over the cost of passage, finally settling on one Gold and five Silvers for a hammock in the crew quarters.
Veran was there to see Sulrad off.
"You're the head of the Temple in Frostan now," Sulrad said. "You've learned what it takes to find and sacrifice those with magic to strengthen yourself and the Temple. Take care while I am gone. It may be a while before I return."
Veran bowed his head. "I am honored. I will keep watch against your return. You will not be disappointed."
"Know this. I am traveling by water. Water is a danger to any Wizard. We lose contact with the earth and our powers are significantly impaired.
I don't anticipate any trouble, but one never knows."
"Then why are you traveling by water?"
"Because the trip to Ryden is half a moon by water but two full moons of walking. This will get me where I need to be much faster. Even though I like it not."
"I'll be watching for your contact, should you need my assistance. Simply call for me and I will come, even if I have to travel by ship myself."
"Watch over my Temple." Sulrad turned and stepped on the gang plank that would take him to the next stage of his quest to command the dragons.
The journey by sea was horrible, and Sulrad suffered greatly. He was subject to sea sickness and because his magic was diminished, he was powerless to do anything about it. The days without food added to his already gaunt look until he resembled one of the skeleton statues in the Temple. By the time they arrived in Ryden, he looked like walking death.
He found an inn and hired a room for a moon. That should give him enough time. He spent several days resting from his journey, recovering his strength, and searching for news of a Wizard or Sorceress who knew the old legends.
He heard of an old woman named Theria. She lived on the edge of the city and was said to have the sight. He found her house nestled among the shops and homes on the outer edge of the city. It was well maintained and in good repair in contrast to the surrounding homes.
The woman who opened the door was slight and bent over. She was aged and wrinkled, with a large bulbous nose and crooked teeth. She peered up at Sulrad as she opened the door.
"I have heard you have the sight," Sulrad said.
"That is true. I can see you're a Wizard."
"Priest. I am the high Priest of Ran."
"Don't know him, but Wizard you are." She held the door ready to close it on him.
"I am a Wizard. I have come to seek your advice."
"The only advice I have for you is to leave an old woman alone." She started to close the door in his face.
Wizard Pair (Book 3) Page 21
