Marc thrilled at the thought. “No, but I’d certainly like to.”
Valeria’s eyes widened. “I have heard many tales of dragons. Do they really breathe fire?”
The wizard chuckled. “They do whatever you want them to.”
“Pardon?”
“They exist only in the imaginations of skilled wizards.” Oren suddenly extended his staff to his right, pointing at the treetops. “Look. Over there, above that chestnut tree.”
Following his master’s gaze, Marc froze in place for, several hundred paces away, a great beast flew through the air. Its long, snake-like body writhed with each beat of its wide, leathery wings. Its color was that of dried blood and each massive foot hung low, heavy with wickedly curved claws. Taking a faltering step back, Valeria gasped loudly and the dragon whipped its gaze in their direction.
Oren let out a little cluck of dismay. “It appears we have been discovered.”
Marc’s pulse pounded in his ears. “How does one defend against a dragon?” he asked, his voice almost breaking from the tension. Also alarmed, Valeria slid behind him as the master thoughtfully pulled on his beard.
“A good question for I have never been attacked by one,” Oren said as if casually discussing the weather.
The creature stretched wide its wings, wheeled sharply in the sky and sped straight for them. A chill sweat broke on Marc’s brow and part of his thoughts screamed for him to flee to the safety of the trees. How could Oren remain so calm? “Master! Do something.”
“Why? There is nothing to fear.”
Pulling his gaze from the approaching threat, Marc reached for his weapon but found only empty space at his side; he had left the house without his knife. What about a magical weapon? The Blade? Could it be used against a moving target? Glancing about, he sought shelter.
There was none they could reach in time.
The dragon drew close enough that Marc saw its malevolent eyes; two glowing embers fixed keenly upon him. He watched in terror as its mouth snapped open, spitting out a stream of boiling fire. Whirling about, he did his best to shield Valeria as the flames engulfed them. He braced himself for the searing pain that never came.
“What?” He quickly looked about but saw no trace of the beast. “Where did it go?”
The master began to laugh and Valeria joined him. “Where did what go?” Oren laughed harder.
Marc then remembered the two demons used to scare Portaeus and began to laugh himself. “It’s an illusion. You tricked us.”
“No, you tricked yourselves. I clearly stated dragons do not exist, but you wanted to believe they did. Learn this lesson well. People will often believe what they want to, even after being told the truth.”
“But it seemed so real,” Valeria said, grinning. “I’m impressed.”
The master dipped his head her way. “Thank you. I am proud of my little pet. It is my best illusion.”
Marc wiped the perspiration off his face with his sleeve. “Your pet?”
“In a way. I spent decades perfecting that dragon. It has become a part of me.”
He glanced once more at the now empty sky. “How did you make us see it?”
“I first created the image of the dragon in my mind, down to the last detail. While it may sound simple enough, it is difficult to maintain the needed concentration. If it is not vivid to me, it will not be so for those whom I wish to influence. Then I Pushed the illusion of the dragon into your minds. Pushing is essentially the opposite of probing another’s thoughts.”
“But I didn’t just see it,” Valeria said, “I heard it, too.”
“Illusions can include any of the senses as well as emotions, but images are the most challenging. Also, the more people you wish to affect, the more difficult it becomes.” Oren leaned on his staff and chuckled. “Seeing the two of you react to my illusion was most satisfying.”
“Teach us this, Master,” Valeria asked.
“Yes,” Marc said. “Illusions would be most useful, especially if guile is needed.”
Oren shared a crafty little smile with them. “Exactly. Let us begin the lesson.”
— o O o —
As with all the higher forms of magic, illusion required much effort and time to learn. Marc had meager success but Valeria took to it quickly, first learning how to Push sounds and thereafter making every nearby object talk to him. While entertaining at first, it soon became annoying, especially when it distracted him from his own efforts.
Moving away from the others, he found a quiet place to practice. He tried to create something simple, the image of an egg, but could not maintain it for more than a few seconds because a lightheaded feeling repeatedly came over him. At first he wondered if Valeria was trying something else out on him. No, her illusions—her magic—had a certain texture to them. Using the knowledge he had learned so far, Marc narrowed the sensation down to one of two things—a form of Linking or a thought probe. Again he felt it and immediately opened his magic to observe it. The source of it surprised him.
—Master. Val. Sean is trying to contact me.—
Excited, he quickly Envisioned Sean and found him standing in the doorway of Garrett’s home, holding onto the amulet as he had been told. Reaching out over the miles between them, Marc tried to connect with the stone. Only after focusing all of his mind on the task could he make the stone quiver within Sean’s hand. With a start, Sean opened his fingers and Marc suspended it before the other’s face.
—Can Marc hear me?— Sean asked the amulet, wide-eyed in wonder. Marc made it bob once. Taking a nervous gulp of air, Sean continued. —Thaddeus just left here. He said we have one day in which to swear allegiance to lord Crowe as the new king. He will return tomorrow for our answer. Garrett wants Oren to come right away.—
The news so startled Marc that he lost control over the stone and it fell back to Sean’s chest. Shaking off his lapse, he lifted the stone once more but did not know how to acknowledge the message. Two sets of footfalls rapidly approached, Valeria and Oren. “Master—”
“We have Envisioned it as well. Valeria, use your new magic to tell Sean we will be there by nightfall.”
She quickly looked at the master, eyebrows raised. “I can Push an illusion that far?”
“I believe so. Have the stone speak to him only.”
Valeria nodded her assent, closed her eyes and went still in concentration. Her glow brightened for a short time after which Sean nodded. —Thank you, magic stone.—
Marc released the stone and ended the Envisioning. “What did you say?”
“To make it more special I had the amulet speak in poetic verse. I said:
The magic has heard your words,
and passed along your plight.
Two wizards and a witch will help,
they journey here tonight.”
Placing a hand gently on her shoulder, Oren said, “Excellent use of show, Valeria.” The elder’s pleasure faded to be replaced with unease. “I feared something like this would happen. We leave for Oak Creek as soon as we are packed.”
— o O o —
Grunting, Marc struggled under the load strapped to his shoulders. His pack bulged with the many things the master wanted to take: two monks robes, a week’s worth of food for the three of them, all kinds of dried herbs and medicinal powders, several blankets and skins plus other assorted supplies.
“Too tight?” Valeria tugged on his right strap.
“No, too heavy. Let me help you with yours.”
Valeria faced the large table in the greeting room, picked up her pack and handed it to him. Threading one arm through a strap, she turned so he could lift the other side onto her shoulder. While not as full as his, her burden was far from light. As he adjusted her straps, Oren and Gildas entered the room.
The master briefly examined the packs. With a nod to them, Oren turned to the monk. “We will be off, Brother. Now is the time for you to go as well for this place will no longer be safe. Head north to Bitter Well, the ne
xt village. Seek out Leahenfehr. Tell him what has happened at Oak Creek and that they will not support Crowe.” Oren put his hand on Gildas’ shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Tell him I said Crowe is not to be trusted.”
Marc knew that while Leahenfehr was a decent enough leader, he rarely took advice from outside of his inner circle. Oren counted on using the reputation he had developed over the years to ensure the man would do as he wished. Marc wondered if he would ever be that highly regarded.
Gildas nodded respectfully. “I will do so my friend.”
“Take much food with you and whatever you may need in the way of supplies. Take this as well.” From beneath his robe Oren produced a fist-sized bag of coins, so full that the stitching of the seams pulled taut, and placed it in Gildas’ hand.
“I cannot.” Shaking his head, Gildas tried to give it back but Oren refused.
“Many will kindly give you shelter and food on your journeys. This is for those who will not.”
Gildas drew the bag to his chest and bowed slightly. “You are most generous.”
“No more than our God has been to me.”
“Amen. Thank you for your hospitality, friendship and wisdom.” Gildas addressed Marc and Valeria. “And I again thank both of you for my life. I know now that our Heavenly Father led you to me.”
Marc felt a wry smile grow on his lips. “Then you accept that magic is not evil.”
Gildas smiled and nodded slightly. “I must confess, the magic the three of you command is good. I cannot speak thus for any other magic.”
He chuckled warmly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
With a satisfied grin, Valeria leaned toward the monk and kissed his cheek, causing him to blush.
After their final good-byes, Gildas sent them on their way with a heartfelt blessing. Barely past the gate, Marc realized how much he would miss his friend; the memory of this monk would last for the rest of his life.
“Master, you once said Gildas had an important destiny. Do you know what it is?”
“Yes, but perhaps Valeria can tell us something of his future.”
“I’ll try.” She stopped and closed her eyes, her aura brightening. “He will be well known for many years, centuries even. His writings will be read by great scholars. I believe he will be... an historian.”
“Very good. Will you ever meet him again?”
“Oh, yes. Several times.”
The old wizard leaned on his staff, pride clearly showing on his face. “Even though you are both still new to the ways of magic, your gifts have borne fruit. Let us make haste for the village awaits us.”
— o O o —
When they were about an hour from Oak Creek, Oren led them eastward off the path and toward the northern end of Rocky Hill. Marc glanced at the steep and nearly impassable slope ahead.
“Why are we going this way?”
“A shortcut to save us time.”
Marc knew of no shortcut in this area. The remainder of the path led south around the hill for good reason—it was far easier going that way than trying to climb over it. But that limitation did not apply to wizards.
“You intend to Float over Rocky Hill.”
“Correct. While I would prefer not to reduce the strength of our magic, the need to arrive quickly prevails. The heart of the village lies directly across from this point.”
That sounded fine to Marc. His feet—and back—could use the rest. Following Oren, he and Valeria rose high into the air and drifted toward Oak Creek. He knew being this far above the ground bothered her, but she did not complain and kept up with them. Marc worried about another matter; it seemed certain the test he was to face would likely take place in the next day or two.
What few things he had learned about the coming trial passed through his mind. Like Valeria’s vision of the dagger piercing his heart, and the evil, black-robed man who wanted him dead. Could this be the same faceless specter who haunted his own dreams? Was he part of the test? Marc hated not knowing when the trial would come and what it would be.
“Marc,” Valeria said, enthusiastically pointing downward, “look at our village. It’s very different when viewed from above.”
Releasing his concerns, he gazed at the approaching rooftops. Not many people were visible, but those he saw moved about with a purpose. None were aware of three wizards descending into their midst. A blue-gray column of smoke rose from the hole in the roof of the common house, a sure sign the men were discussing what to do about Thaddeus’ visit. Would they choose to give in to Crowe’s threat, or be making plans for war? If he knew the other men as well as he thought he did, it would be war.
Glancing to the left, he looked at his mother’s house. That struck him oddly. His mother’s house. By now he was so used to living in the home of the wizards that he no longer considered the humble structure below to be his. Had he really changed that much? Looking again he saw his two sisters next to the doorway. The eldest stopped suddenly as if hearing a noise and turned to look directly at him. As she shrieked, he felt fear, then amazement, come from her.
“Marc?” she called out, shielding her eyes with a hand.
“It’s me, Gwen.” He laughed as she began running around, shouting for everyone to look up. Observing her closer, he saw something that truly surprised him. “Master, my sister has magic. It’s weak, but I see her glow.”
“Both of your sisters have magic in them for they are also children of your father.”
Stunned, Marc could not yet voice the next question forming in his mind, but apparently Valeria’s thoughts paralleled his own. “Will you teach them to use their magic as well?”
“There will come a time to do so but their gifts are less than yours and Marc’s. They may never come to know the true secret. Do not speak to them of this for now.”
Gwen’s actions caused quite a number of villagers to come out into the open and stare upward. Some were fearful, some fascinated, but all focused on either him or Valeria. Oren guided them toward the space north of the common house where most of the people had gathered.
—Good show, Master.—
—I am pleased you noticed. This grand entrance will leave no doubt that you and Valeria are powerful in the ways of magic.—
As Marc’s feet touched the ground, Gwen and Stella rushed forward and quickly hugged him, then Valeria.
“You can fly!” Gwen said, nearly squealing in her glee.
He gave his sisters a big smile. “Yes, we can, and it’s fun.” That set them to giggling. The other villagers held back, seemingly unsure about the situation. Garrett exited the common house and came forward to shake their hands. “Thank you all for arriving so soon. Come in and rest as we plan how to defend our homes.”
War it was.
Once everyone had crowded into the common house, Garrett summarized what had been discussed so far. Most of it had to do with different ways to lie in wait for Crowe’s men and what additional weapons could be fashioned in the time remaining. Oren listened patiently to everyone, then spoke.
“Do we know their number?”
Garrett shook his head. “No. We were talking about sending out scouts when you arrived.”
“That would be dangerous, both for the scouts and for the village. Crowe will be expecting that. If the scouts are detected, he will immediately move on Oak Creek.”
Many of the people nodded their heads. Garrett sighed. “That was our concern as well. But we must know how many men he has and where they are in order to plan our attack. Who knows, he might only have a handful. This could be little more than a bluff.”
Ethan stood. “I am willing to risk my life to scout for the village.”
Marc felt Valeria’s concern and took her hand. If any in their midst could successfully spy on Crowe, it would be Ethan. His stealth and hunting prowess were renowned. Marc remembered that many of the hides he and his father had tanned were the result of Ethan’s bow.
“I, too, will scout,” said another.
“I would be honored to do so.” Marc knew that voice well. Donald stood with the other two.
Garret waved for his son to sit. “Only the men are permitted.”
Anger flashed through Donald’s eyes. “What better way to prove I am worthy of manhood.”
Oren rose. “There is no need for any of you to put yourselves at risk. Marc and I will scout.”
Marc’s body tensed at hearing that. While willing to risk his life, it would have been better if Oren had asked him first. Silence filled the space as everyone gave them curious looks.
“As many of you have guessed by now, Marc and Valeria are learning magic from me. They are well on their way to becoming an accomplished wizard and witch.” He paused a moment before continuing. “The magic is not pleased with Crowe or his motives for coming to your village. It is our ally against such evil and will help us in our fight. The magic will allow Marc and I to spy unseen.”
As a murmur of appreciation rose up, Marc saw Donald scowling at him and Valeria. His former friend’s gaze shifted downward, clearly noticing they held hands. Marc could not help but feel the raw hostility that filled Donald’s mind. With one last spiteful glance, Donald moved past them and slipped outside.
Valeria squeezed his hand. —We have to tell him about us.—
Marc gazed at her with sadness. —He already knows.—
— o O o —
After the meeting, Oren told Marc to join him south of the village, near the edge of the great forest.
“I am here, Master.”
“Are we being observed?”
Stretching out his magic, Marc found no one within several hundred paces. “No.”
“The sun has just set and the time is good to see what we can find out about Crowe. Float up higher than you have ever done before. From there you will be able to see a great distance. Look for movements of men on the roads and paths. For once your eyes will serve you better than your magic.”
“Am I to do this alone?”
“My own eyes are too weak for the task.”
“Well, if I can see them, can they not also see me?”
Haunted Tree (The Magus Family Chronicles Book 1) Page 25
