Wizard Rising

by Toby Neighbors

  He bowed low to the ground and Zollin laughed. He was beginning to trust the old man, but he wasn’t quite ready to let his guard down completely.

  “We have the ability to help young wizards understand their powers, to demonstrate techniques and improve their skills. But it isn’t easy. To see others so full of power and potential without any real desire for it, to see them waver like autumn leaves with every breath of wind, knowing that I have the answers, that I know right from wrong, that I could do so much good with their gifts is very difficult indeed. I’ve spent most of my life secluded. It’s just easier that way, not to mention the Torr would rather see me dead than let my power be wasted teaching others rather than controlling them.”

  “How long have you lived here?” Zollin asked.

  “I don’t know, fifteen or twenty years. I was living in a separatist community in the Rejee Desert before that. But I got so sick of the heat I moved here. The winters can be hard, but I love the snow and the cool climate the rest of the time. And now I have a student, if only for a short time. It feels good to be useful again. That is your gift to me, that and these succulent pork ribs. I shall enjoy them thoroughly.”

  “Good,” Zollin said with a smile, “they weren’t cheap.”

  “Ah, well, when you learn to transform lead into gold, you won’t care so much about money,” Kelvich said.

  “You can do that?”

  “If you know enough. Magic is all about what you know. If you know how something works, you can fix it. If you know enough about the properties of two objects, you can transform one to other. We’ll get to all that.”

  “Today?” Zollin asked. He couldn’t help but think of what he could do with limitless gold.

  “No, not today, and wipe that silly grin off your face. That kind of power takes years to hone. Just knowing you can do it doesn’t make it happen. You have to have a lot of control. Now I won’t lie, you’ve got power. Your raw potential is amazing, but you’ve got to apply yourself. It’s like finding a gold vein in the mountains. You wouldn’t take the flakes that have fallen to the ground and just leave the rest buried in the rock. You’d dig and buy equipment and work that vein until you had unearthed every last fragment. That’s what you’ve got to do.”

  “Why?” asked Zollin. He didn’t disagree, although the thought of that much work didn’t sound appealing. But he wondered why Kelvich was passionate about him learning.

  “You just do. It’s your destiny.”

  “I don’t believe in destiny,” Zollin said.

  “You were destined to have that power and you’re destined to use it. You just don’t know it yet,” Kelvich said. He threw up his hands. “Wait, wait, I see your questions, and trust me, you’ll get the answers, but we have to start at the beginning. Now, the most powerful magic user is a wizard,” he said with a flourish. He had finished working on the pork ribs and took a seat at the table.

  “Wizards can have the powers of every other magic user, but they don’t all come naturally. Some begin with a bent toward one discipline or another, but with study and practice they can become proficient in all the disciplines. Beyond that, a wizard is himself a source of magic. And some have more power than others, but just like a muscle, it must be developed. What I see in you is a person of incredible power, but most of that power has yet to be tapped. I’m sure that’s why the Torr was pursuing you—it wouldn’t do to have a wizard who can challenge their power roaming around.”

  Zollin was shaking his head. “I’m no challenge to anyone.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short,” Kelvich said. “But let’s not worry about that right now. I want to work on some basic skills you need to master.”

  They worked all afternoon on simple spells, like discerning direction, levitation, projecting light, and binding things together. Kelvich refused to let Zollin borrow power from his willow belt or staff, and even though the spells were fairly simple, he was soon soaked with sweat and trembling with fatigue. Kelvich fed him sparingly, forcing Zollin to strain and work harder than he ever had. Even with his father, Zollin had always been able to stop and take a break when he needed it.

  When the ribs were finished cooking, Zollin ate more than his share, then rode back to the inn and had supper again. He fell into his bed exhausted, going to sleep almost instantly. He heard Mansel stirring around in the predawn light and groaned. He knew he needed to get up and rarely had trouble rising in the mornings, but he felt as if he had just closed his eyes a moment ago. He was seriously considering just rolling over and going back to sleep, but then his stomach growled. He couldn’t believe how hungry he was. He rose slowly and dressed quickly, then joined his father and Mansel in the common room. When Ellie brought them a bowl of fresh milk with bread crumbled in it, he ate without tasting the sweet breakfast. He was about to head out when Ellie returned with a roll of parchment sealed with a strange wax seal. He looked up wonderingly.

  “Master Kelvich,” she said politely, before turning away. She was still a jolly girl, but she seemed to have lost all interest in Zollin. Mansel certainly noticed the fact and made a snide comment, but Zollin didn’t hear him. His attention was on the roll of parchment. It was tiny, hardly big enough for one line of print. It said, “Come on foot.”

  It was a curious request, one that Zollin couldn’t quite understand, but he guessed he could walk out to the sorcerer’s cabin.

  “What’s the note say?” Quinn asked.

  “He wants me to walk instead of ride out today.”

  Mansel laughed, but Quinn frowned.

  “Are you sure that old man is right in the head?” Quinn asked.

  “I think so.”

  “Well, you better get going if you’re walking all that way.”

  Zollin rose quickly from the table and grabbed his staff. He stepped out into the yard of the inn as the sun was just peeking over the mountaintops. He set out at a brisk walk. The snow was packed hard along the streets, and he didn’t have much trouble making his way, but the cold from the snow made his breath sting in his lungs. He kept up a brisk pace, but still it took over an hour to reach the cabin in the woods.

  “You’re late,” Kelvich said.

  “You told me to walk,” Zollin said.

  “I told you to come on foot. I never said walk.”

  “What… you wanted me to run all this way?”

  “That’s right,” Kelvich nodded. “For you to be all that you should be, you need to strengthen your body as well as your mind.

  That morning they practiced defensive spells. Kelvich tied Zollin to a post so that he couldn’t move. His hands were secured behind the post as the sorcerer threw small, bean-filled sacks at Zollin, who practiced catching the sacks in the air before he was hit. He was exhausted by mid-morning from his long walk and the constant practice.

  “I need to rest,” Zollin complained.

  “Push yourself,” Kelvich said, throwing another bag, which made it past Zollin’s defenses and hit the helpless wizard on the shoulder.

  “Why? I’m too weak to stop anything. Please let me eat something. I’m about to pass out from hunger.”

  “Hunger is weakness. Don’t let it control you.”

  “Everyone has to eat,” Zollin cried.

  “Not you—you’re not like everyone else.”

  Another bean bag made it through his defenses and hit Zollin on the head. He was getting angry, but he felt so weak, so tired. He was trembling despite the bonds that were holding him to the post. He focused on the ropes, imagining them snapping and setting him free. He pushed the thought out, but the ropes were too strong without the aid of his staff and willow belt. He slumped, getting hit with another bean bag.

  “Come on, you’re not even trying,” Kelvich complained.

  “I’m too exhausted.”

  “No, you’re not. You only think you can’t do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Whatever you can imagine,” Kelvich said, hurling another bag.

  Z
ollin pushed the projectile off course and it flew wide. He was straining at his bonds again, trying to break them, but he was too weak.

  “You can do this. You haven’t even begun to tap into the reservoir of power inside you.”

  “I’m using all I’ve got,” Zollin said.

  “No, you’re only using the overflow.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “And I can’t explain it to you,” Kelvich said. “You have to discover it. And you need to find it soon if you’re going to survive.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll see,” Kelvich said. Then he turned and walked into the cabin.

  Zollin was relieved at first. He expected the lesson to be over, for Kelvich to come out and untie him. His mouth watered as he thought about the food they would share over lunch, perhaps the rest of the pork he had purchased from the butcher in the village. But the Sorcerer never came out of the cabin. Zollin yelled at the old man, begged him to help, but he was alone.

  Snow began falling shortly after midday, and a cold wind seemed to rush down from the northern mountains. Soon Zollin was aching with cold, his hands stinging, and the wooden post felt like ice to his back. His arms and legs grew stiff from the lack of movement. The snow soaked his clothing until he was shivering uncontrollably. He tried again and again to break the bonds, but he just couldn’t do it. Finally, as the afternoon waned, he fainted from exhaustion.

  When he woke up, he was in the cabin, wrapped in warm blankets, his clothing drying near the fire. He was so tired that he could hardly move. He looked around the room and saw Kelvich sitting in a rocking chair, his feet near the fire, dozing. He wanted to be angry, but he was just too weak.

  “Food,” he managed to croak.

  Kelvich stirred, “Ah, you’re awake. Good, I’ve got some broth here for you.”

  Zollin wanted meat, not broth, but he was so weak that Kelvich had to help him to a sitting position. The warm liquid was the most delicious broth Zollin had ever tasted. He spooned the broth down and looked up. He felt better, stronger, but not well. His arms and legs still felt heavy. His stomach was full, but he was still hungry.

  “It’s best not to rush things,” Kelvich said.

  “It’s best not to leave me tied to a post in the freezing cold,” Zollin said bitterly, his anger returning with his strength. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but I don’t like it. Don’t ever leave like that again. And another thing, I’m not practicing without my staff and my belt again.”

  “I understand your anger,” Kelvich said, his tone as mundane as if he were discussing the weather.

  “No, I don’t think you do,” Zollin said, standing on shaky legs. “Until you’ve been left helpless in a snowstorm you don’t know how I feel.”

  “You weren’t helpless.”

  “Let me explain how this magic thing works,” Zollin said, his voice getting loud. “I can only do so much without rest. Every time I use magic, it drains me. I need time to rest and recover. I trusted you, but I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “Good, you shouldn’t trust me. I would have thought that was clear from our last lesson.”

  Zollin was confused, but he was too angry to ask questions. He was tired of all the cryptic threats and hints about greatness. He was just a regular wizard, as if there was anything regular about being a wizard. He stood on shaky legs.

  “I’m through,” he said, even as he closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning. “Give me some dry clothes and your horse. You can pick it up from the inn the next time you walk all the way into the village.”

  “You’re in no condition to go anywhere,” Kelvich said. “Besides, the snow is still falling and the trails will be filled by now. You can stay here until it clears.”

  “No, I’ve had enough. I’m leaving.”

  “If that’s your decision, I respect that. I’ve got some clothes in that cubby in the back room that you can wear. Help yourself.”

  Zollin made it about halfway across the room before the dizziness and his shaky legs got the better of him. He fell to the floor and lay still. Kelvich closed his eyes and waited for the wizard to stir.

  When Zollin finally felt like moving, he managed to roll over. The sorcerer’s indifference to his plight infuriated him. He wanted to scream and shout at the man, but he didn’t have the strength to back up his threats. Besides, his anger obviously didn’t faze Kelvich. He struggled back to his feet and managed to sit at the table. There was bread and cheese laid out, and Zollin helped himself. He ate ravenously and waited for Kelvich to object, but the sorcerer seemed to be asleep in his chair.

  The dull gray light that managed to pass through the thick clouds was fading quickly, and the snow was falling heavily. It wasn’t quite blizzard conditions, but the amount of snow falling was substantial. Zollin knew that, as weak as he felt, he would never be able to make it back to the inn that evening. When he felt strong enough, he walked slowly back to the room at the rear of the little cabin. He stayed close to the rough-hewn log walls so that he could steady himself when he felt dizzy. He found a bed in the back room and fell across it. He wrapped the blankets tightly around his fragile body and fell asleep.

  Chapter 21

  “He should have returned by now,” Brianna argued.

  “He left on foot, remember?” Mansel said. “I don’t think you’d want to walk home in all this snow.”

  “He might have gotten caught out in the storm. We should at least go make sure he’s all right.”

  “If we go out, we’ll be the ones getting caught in the snow,” Quinn said. “The paths are filling back up and it’ll be a while before we can make our way to the forest again.”

  “So we’re just going to sit here and do nothing?” she asked.

  “No, of course not,” Quinn said. “We’re going to drink ale and tell stories and stay warm by the fire.”

  Brianna leaned down close to the master carpenter, her voice strained but quiet.

  “He’s your son. Don’t you even care about him?”

  “I raised him to know better than to go wandering around in a snowstorm.”

  Brianna wanted to scream at him, but Quinn seemed unfazed by her. She didn’t want the whole town to know that she was worried about Zollin, and the inn was still full of people who had come in to ride out the storm. She tried to act like a typical little sister, but she couldn’t stop worrying when he hadn’t returned the night before. She had waited in the common room all day, but he still hadn’t arrived. She wanted to go to her room, but she was afraid he would return and she wouldn’t know it. It made her angry to see the common room full of people without a care in the world. She wanted to pace but made herself sit at the table next to Mansel.

  Quinn was worried too, but he knew he couldn’t help Zollin now. His son had changed so much in the last year. He had never been fond of wizards, not that he had ever known any, but magic was just too strange for his mind to grasp. He liked things he could see and feel. He had been a good soldier and was a good carpenter, but those were things he could see and touch. He understood how wood worked, how it was strong with the grain, weak against it. He knew how to frame a house and build a table, but magic couldn’t be seen or held in your hands. He had seen Zollin do things that boggled his mind. The constant danger they had been in and their need to reach a safe place were the only things that had kept him sane during the last few weeks.

  He thought back to the summer and fall in Tranaugh Shire. He wondered if he should have spent more time with his son. As Zollin had grown and matured, Quinn had treated him more like a hired hand than a son. The boy had so little skill with his hands that it had seemed natural to let him take on the chores around their cottage that Quinn detested. He had thought that Zollin was spending time in the woods around their village playing, as he had as a young boy. It was obvious now that something had been different, but at the time he just hadn’t seen it. He wondered how he would have felt if Zollin had come
right out and told Quinn that he was a wizard. Would he have been supportive? Could he have helped somehow? Those questions nagged at his mind as he drank his ale and laughed at the exaggerated tales being told around the room.

  Still, even though he hated that Zollin had changed, that he would never be a carpenter like himself, that he would never see his son settle down and marry, have children, and enjoy a peaceful life, he had to admit that his son had skill. He doubted very much, after what he had seen Zollin do, that a snowstorm would get the best of him. He was sure that Zollin was in the woods with the old man named Kelvich. At least that’s what he told himself, over and over as he smiled and laughed and tried to pretend that his son wasn’t on his mind at all.

  As the night wore on, the crowd at the inn grew rowdy. Brianna wanted to leave but forced herself to stay. She noticed a man who had entered from the kitchens. He was tall and thin, wearing a dark cloak dusted white with melting snow. He had thick gloves and tall, heavy boots, but he seemed to move like a shadow and made no noise, at least none that could be heard over the drunken townsfolk. He saw Brianna watching him but ignored her and caught hold of Buck the innkeeper’s arm as the man was moving back toward the kitchen to refill his pitcher of mulled wine. The two spoke in whispers, and Brianna saw that Buck was nodding in her direction. The man moved back against the far wall and seemed to melt into the shadows. There were lamps in the big meeting room of the inn, but the fire was so bright in the fireplace that none had been lit. Some light spilled from the kitchens but not enough to see the man clearly. He stayed in shadows as the night wore on. At one point, Buck brought the man a pint of ale and a bowl of stew, but Brianna noticed that no one else went near the man. She wondered if anyone else even knew he was there, but at one point she saw Ollie, the innkeeper’s wife, dart a scornful glance in the stranger’s direction.