Wizard Rising

by Toby Neighbors

  “Ooohhhh!” said the stranger who had attacked Zollin. The man staggered to his feet and Zollin pretended to be unconscious. He heard the unsteady footsteps of the man as he approached. It took all of Zollin’s strength and concentration not to breathe. He didn’t want the man to stab him again, but he was hopeful that the man would pull the knife out and allow Zollin the chance to heal himself.

  “Guess it was handy I finished you quick,” the man said. “You might have caused some problems and that’s a fact.”

  Zollin braced himself for the pain of having the knife ripped free, but the man moved away, leaving the young wizard alone on the floor of the common room. He heard the kitchen door swing on its hinges as the stranger left. It was now or never, Zollin thought to himself. He rolled onto his side and vomited on the floor. Then he reached up and grabbed the table, pulling himself to his knees. His instinct was to bend over double, but leaning forward at all sent waves of excruciating pain through his whole body. He stayed rigidly straight even as he felt the muscles in his back threatening to cramp. He managed to get to his feet, but his legs felt incredibly heavy. He felt like he was carrying heavy timber for his father as he staggered along the wall. If he could just get far enough down the hallway, his father would help him. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and close his eyes. Even lying down on the rough and dirty hallway floor would be heaven. The pain was intense and every step was a monumental task. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, and he was bleeding freely now—he could feel the blood running down his waist and legs.

  Finally, he reached his father’s room. He pushed on the simple lever handle, but the door was locked. No, he thought, it can’t be locked. Then a truly terrifying thought crossed his mind. He had been absent from the inn for three days. Perhaps his father and Brianna and Mansel had left. Perhaps they had gone out looking for him and were away. He could die here, alone, in the hall of the inn. He rattled the lever, but it held fast. His knees buckled and he dropped to the floor. His back cramped and he fell back, the agony in his stomach too much to bear. The world went black.

  Chapter 24

  Brianna woke with a start. The door lever was shaking. Someone was trying to get into the room! She started to cry out in fear but bit her tongue. She rose and moved quietly over to Quinn to wake him.

  “I hear it,” he whispered. He rolled out of bed and approached the door with something in his hand. It was dark and Brianna couldn’t make out what it was. “Get ready to light that lamp, but keep it covered. I don’t want them to know we’re awake.”

  Brianna’s hands were shaking, but she managed to get a red-hot iron from the stove, its tip glowing red. She covered the lamp as she lit it, then nodded to Quinn. There was a thump outside the door and then all was quiet.

  Quinn removed the locking bar and slowly opened the door. He waited for a moment, but the hallway was dark. There was a form lying on the floor. Quinn knew there was nothing else to do but reveal the lamp. If there were assassins in the shadows, uncovering the lamp would only make him vulnerable, but he couldn’t sit locked in his room, either.

  “Uncover the lamp,” he said.

  Brianna pulled up the shade and the pale light seemed bright in the darkness.

  “Oh my God!” Quinn said loudly. He dropped what was in his hand and jumped into the hallway. “Get that light over here!” he shouted.

  Brianna hurried forward and almost dropped the lamp when she saw Zollin. His face was pale and wet with sweat. There were dark stains on his stomach and down his pants, not to mention the handle of the knife that was protruding from his stomach.

  “What do we do?” she asked, her voice shrill with fear.

  “I’m not sure,” Quinn said.

  “Dad?” Zollin said. His voice was weak, and Quinn bent over him. “Pull out the knife, I can fix it.”

  “What? Are you insane?” Quinn responded.

  “I can heal myself, so pull it out slow. Don’t let me black out again.”

  “All right, hold on,” Quinn said.

  “What?” Brianna asked. “What did he say?”

  “He says he wants to heal the wound, but he needs me to pull the knife out. Come on, let’s get him in the room first.”

  When Quinn pulled Zollin across the rough inn floor into the room, Zollin thought he would pass out again. But the pain had sharpened his senses, and as his father knelt over him again, he was able to concentrate on the tip of the blade.

  “Go ahead,” Zollin whispered.

  The blade started to move and Zollin clenched his jaw and dug his fingernails into the wooden floor to keep from screaming. Finally, the knife blade eased out of his stomach. Immediately he pulled at the edges of the punctured stomach and focused on healing.

  “Wait a second,” he muttered as he imagined the tissue mending together again.

  Immediately the pain lessened. It was still agonizing, but he could tell it was working. Once he felt sure his stomach was whole again, he nodded at his father. Quinn pulled the knife as slowly as possible, and Zollin used his power to heal anything that felt out of place. Finally, the blade passed through the muscles of his stomach. Zollin felt the fibers of the muscle and imagined each piece pulling toward the others and finding its mate. When the blade pulled free, he laid his shaking hands on the torn skin and healed it as well. Then he looked inward, searching for anything he had missed. The pain was only a memory now, but still fresh in his mind. There was blood in his guts, but the organs were working and everything felt whole. He would need to consult the anatomy book or speak to Kelvich about the blood, but he felt that everything would be all right.

  He opened his eyes. Quinn had bent down over him, his eyes full of worry and doubt. Standing over him was Brianna, her black hair falling in beautiful spirals all around her face. There were tears on her cheeks and nose.

  “I did it,” he said. “I’m okay.”

  “Are you sure?” his father asked, the worry still evident in his voice. “Gut wounds are almost always fatal.”

  Zollin lifted his hands and wiped away the blood from his stomach.

  “Look,” he said. “It’s finished.”

  There wasn’t even a scar where the knife had cut him.

  “That’s unbelievable,” his father murmured.

  “Oh, Zollin,” Brianna said, a sob catching in her throat. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She dropped to her knees beside Quinn and took one of Zollin’s hands. Then, without waiting for him to answer, she bent down and laid her forehead against his neck. She shook as she cried, but she was quiet, and Zollin patted her head with his free hand until she calmed down. When at last she sat up, it was Quinn who spoke.

  “Damn,” he said. He was holding the knife that he had pulled free of Zollin.

  Brianna looked up and saw that it was exactly like the knife the strange man had laid on the table before them that morning. She cringed at the thought of that man with his cruel eyes hurting Zollin, and then the realization that she was right popped into her mind.

  “I told you—”

  Quinn raised his hand. “I don’t want to hear it,” he said. “Zollin, did this man say anything to you?”

  Zollin was still on the floor.

  “He was a stranger. Tall and thin.” Quinn nodded his head so Zollin continued. “He said his boss was angry, and then after he threw the knife at me I slammed his head into the fireplace.”

  “You killed him?” Quinn asked.

  “No, I didn’t have my staff and I wasn’t strong enough. He was only out for a few minutes. Then he said it was good he had taken care of me, that I could cause some problems. He left the inn through the kitchens.”

  Quinn swore for a minute, and then he picked up what he had dropped—it was a knife just like the one the man had thrown at Zollin. He tucked it into his pants and told them to wait for him before slipping out the door.

  “Help me up,” Zollin told Brianna.

  He was afraid the pain would return wh
en he moved, but it didn’t. He stood up and walked a bit, then sat on his father’s bed. He was tired, but the relief from the pain was so great that a sense of euphoria swept through him. He smiled.

  “Quite an evening, huh?” he joked.

  Brianna looked at him aghast and slowly she smiled. Then a giggle, and then they both laughed. Zollin, his clothes ruined, looked sickly and weak. Brianna’s face was puffy and red from crying and lack of sleep. They stared at each other and laughed.

  Quinn silently crept through the common room and into the kitchen. He checked every room, closet, and pantry, but the assassin was gone. He checked the back door and found it unlocked. There was a fresh trail in the thigh-deep snow, but Quinn knew it was the wrong time to track down the assailant. The man was returning to the mining camp, and then the miners would return to the town. It wouldn’t be pretty, but at least he knew what to expect. His first priority was to keep his family safe. To this point, he had done a poor job of it, but he would remedy that soon enough. First he had to erase the evidence that Zollin had been attacked. It wouldn’t help him convince the town that standing against the miners was a good idea if they were terrified of Zollin. He returned to his room.

  “Well, he’s gone,” Quinn said as he closed the door. “We need to get you and this place cleaned up.”

  “I’m afraid I won’t be much help,” Zollin said. “It’s all I can do to keep my eyes open right now.”

  “I understand. Let’s get you to your room.”

  Quinn pulled Zollin to his feet and walked him out of the room. He opened the door to the room he shared with Mansel and they were hit with the stench of stale vomit.

  Quinn swore again and Zollin smiled. He didn’t care about the smell, he just felt so happy to be alive.

  “It’s okay, I’ll be fine, Dad.”

  “Well, get out of those clothes. I’ll need to burn them. If the innkeeper tries to clean them we’ll never hear the end of it. Besides, we don’t want the whole town to know what happened.”

  Zollin pulled off his clothes and handed them all to Quinn, even his boots. Then he walked over to his bed. The room was cold, and Mansel had helped himself to one of Zollin’s blankets, but from the smell of things, he needed it. Zollin wrapped himself up in what was left of the bedclothes and fell asleep.

  Quinn took the boots back to his room, and then he and Brianna went to the common room. There was blood on the fireplace and tracking up the hallway. Quinn threw the ruined clothes onto the embers of the fire and watched for a moment as they flamed up. Then he got some water and two brushes from one of the closets in the maze of rooms beyond the kitchen. They spent the next two hours scrubbing the floor. The inn floor wasn’t spotless to begin with, so they hoped the blood stains would blend with the marks on the rough wooden planks. When they finally got back to their rooms, Brianna fell into bed, exhausted. Quinn sat up for a while and cleaned Zollin’s boots. Then with only a couple of hours left until dawn, he couldn’t resist the urge to check in on his son one more time. He took the lamp to the room Zollin shared with Mansel. He held his nose as he pushed open the door. Zollin was sound asleep, his breathing steady and deep. In fact, he looked healthier than Mansel, who was still pale amid the ragged bed he had obviously been confined to since drinking himself into a stupor two nights past.

  At last he lay back down on his own bed. His body ached, his back was sore from shoveling snow, his joints ached from the cold night air, and his mind was numb from lack of sleep. But when he closed his eyes, he saw the thin stranger. The knife he laid down on the table was evidence enough. The man had been King’s Guard, the same as Quinn. He might have hoped the miners were led by an overconfident man inexperienced at organizing an assault, but the stranger wasn’t. The tall, thin assassin would tell the miners just how to come against the town. Their only hope was Zollin. And the stranger thought he had dealt with Quinn’s son. How wrong you are, Quinn thought. And as he fell asleep, he thought that just might be enough to save them.

  ***

  The next morning, Quinn gathered everyone together in the common room of the Gateway Inn to talk about what had happened.

  “We can’t pretend anymore,” said Quinn. “That man who attacked Zollin was sending me a message. The miners are coming, sooner or later. And when they get here, if the town doesn’t give us up, they’ll destroy the town.”

  “I can’t believe I missed everything,” Mansel said. He was still pale, but at least he was out of his bed.

  “So we should leave,” Brianna said.

  “We can’t leave,” Zollin argued. “I’ve got too much to learn, and I’ve only just started.”

  “But we can’t risk the town,” Brianna said.

  “We can fight,” said Mansel.

  “Not all by ourselves,” said Brianna. “We don’t even know how many miners there are.”

  “There’ll be quite a few,” Quinn said. “You don’t send three men for supplies if it’s a small operation. Plus, there’s the possibility that the town could turn on us.”

  “What’ll happen if we just leave?” Zollin asked. “To the town, I mean.”

  “Can’t say for sure,” Quinn said. “The miners could ignore the town and come after us, or they could destroy the town. It’s hard to say.”

  “I don’t feel right about leaving these people to fend for themselves,” Zollin said. “They were terrified of the three we already dealt with. If the miners come in a large group, there could be a lot of people hurt or killed.”

  “At what point do we stop worrying about everyone else and start looking after our own interests?” Brianna asked. “I mean, we’ve got wizards chasing us, and now miners. Even if they don’t come until spring, what are we going to do then?”

  “That’s another good question,” Quinn said.

  “Is it possible to stay here?” Zollin asked. “Isn’t this place as good as any to make a stand?”

  “That depends on who’s coming,” said Mansel.

  “What do we hope to gain by moving on?” Brianna said. “Is there a place beyond the reach of these people where we might live some kind of normal lives? Or is fighting our only option?”

  They all looked at Quinn. He sighed and shook his head.

  “I don’t think there is anywhere in the Five Kingdoms where we won’t be hunted down eventually.”

  “That means we either fight or try to cross the Wilderlands,” said Zollin.

  “If we fight,” asked Brianna, “what do we hope to gain? Won’t whoever is chasing us eventually regroup and come for us again?”

  “Probably,” said Quinn. “But I don’t like the idea of running.”

  “I certainly don’t want to cross the Wilderlands,” said Mansel.

  “All the magic in the Five Kingdoms is based at the Torr,” said Zollin. “What if I go there? The rest of you would be safe then.”

  “That’s a bad idea,” said Brianna.

  “I don’t have much experience with wizards, son, but I have a bad feeling about you going there.”

  “So, we’re right back to where we started,” said Zollin.

  “True,” said Quinn, “we don’t have a lot of options. But my father once told me, wherever you go, whatever you’re doing, try to leave the places you travel and the people you meet better than you found them. Brighton’s Gate is a good town, but they’re vulnerable, either to miners like now or to Skellmarian raiders. The army has pulled back, leaving them exposed. We could help these people learn to defend themselves and at least leave them more prepared than when we found them.”

  They all thought about this for a while, and one by one they nodded.

  “I guess we brought this trouble on them,” Zollin said. “The least we can do is help them now.”

  “I agree,” said Quinn. “So, learn as much as you can. You’re our secret weapon. That assassin thinks he killed you, so they won’t be expecting you. That’s the only advantage we’ve got.”

  “We’ve got you,” Mansel said
to Quinn. “You were King’s Army. You know strategy and how to fight.”

  “But so do they,” said Quinn. “The assassin was Royal Guard. That’s what he was saying when he put that knife on the table. Only the Guard are trained with that weapon.”

  “So he’ll know what you know?” Brianna asked.

  The realization hit Zollin for the first time. His father hadn’t just been in the Army, he had been in the King’s Royal Guard. He felt a little betrayed that he had never known before. He saw the realization dawning on Mansel’s rugged features. There was a gleam of pride in the bigger boy’s eyes.

  “It’s really a matter of experience,” Quinn said. “I only served a few years. When I met Zollin’s mother, I left all that behind.”

  “Do you think the miners will be trained men, like this assassin?” Zollin asked.

  “It’s possible, but I doubt it. Mining is difficult work, not the kind of the thing people with other options normally do. But you can bet they’ll be violent men, the kind that won’t hesitate to slice your throat.”

  “Okay, so what do we do?” Brianna asked.

  “The first thing is to convince the town that they have a problem that won’t be solved by handing us over to the miners. Then, we’ll need to start planning for some sort of defense.”

  “How do we convince the town?” Zollin asked.

  “Well, we’ll have to tell them the truth. You feel like putting on a little show?”

  ***

  That afternoon, Brianna went around the village inviting everyone to the inn for a special night of entertainment. Zollin wasn’t convinced that this was the best idea, but they didn’t have much choice. If the people ran them out of town, they’d be no worse off. Zollin’s main concern was to ensure that Kelvich was not mentioned or his secret revealed. Zollin thought the best way to ensure that was to invite the old sorcerer to the show. He could act surprised, just like everyone else, and defend himself if accusations came his way. Besides, Zollin would need his willow belt and staff to do some really amazing magic that would convince the town that they had an upper hand against the miners.