To Earwig’s surprise, the little man retained his assertive grin. He moved to the hall table where he cast his arm in an arc, and a semicircle of large crystals appeared across the tabletop.
“Why before you, of course.”
Earwig stepped back and scrutinized the man before she moved closer to inspect the sparklers.
“No crystal ball among your rocks?”
“No, but perhaps another time.”
The man arced his arm again. The crystals disappeared, one by one before Earwig stepped closer and stayed his arm.
“Perhaps I should observe for myself what you have to offer, she said.
The peddler returned the gemstones to the table, and Earwig cast him a slight smile as she moved to select a mineral.
“This one, a power crystal, you say, what can this rock do?”
“May we move to a darker chamber where I can better display the precious stone’s attributes?”
The witch shook her frowning head but clutched the gem in her hand. They descended the spiral staircase into the subterranean vaults. The two stopped in a storage room before a plain, dusty dresser. Earwig lit a candle with a flick of her finger torch and placed it on the dresser top with the crystal.
“Enough chatter. Show me.”
The grinning salesman with gleaming eyes watched the witch while his pointing finger levitated her selected crystal above the furniture. He mumbled a spell, and the crystal glowed, turned brilliant dark amethyst purple, and shot a spark that burned a hole through the wooden cupboard on the far wall. The fellow’s outstretched arm held the crystal suspended over the table.
“Great color and clarity, but not so powerful as others.”
Earwig stared at the smoking cupboard. “Others more powerful than that?”
The man held his stare on Earwig, unnerving her. He lowered his arm, and the crystal settled to the dresser. Another arc of his arm and the other crystals reappeared before them.
“Any visionary crystals among these?” Earwig asked.
She bent over to examine each crystal in turn when a sudden pat on her ample posterior made her jump straight up. She set her shoulders back and glared at the beaming merchant. Heat surged up and flooded her face. She wound up, spun around, and smacked the little man so hard he backflipped and landed sprawled eagle on the floor, his quivering head aglow with her handprint.
“You presume too much, nasty little man.”
“What does one gain if one doesn’t try?”
“You’ll gain the grave should you touch me again.”
The bruised fellow got to his feet, rubbed his swollen jaw, and stepped to the far side of the table. Narrowed eyes and a sinister smirk replace the grin. He straightened his brilliant coat and surveyed the gems.
“None of these are visionary crystals; they’re active gemstones, madam. They can assist in removing annoying things, so to speak. Each crystal resonates with a different frequency causing varied responses.” He picked up another, larger crystal twirling the selection through his fingers. “This jewel of a crystal projects a resonance that dissolves the object struck.”
“Dissolves the object does it…”
“Yes, indeed. It’s a neat, clean, untraceable means of disposing of unwanted items-- even living items. Have you a need for such a power?”
“Indeed, I do. An obstacle heading for Olnak needs dissolution when I can get my hands on him – I mean it. The impediment gave me the slip at Hyemka, but the problem won’t escape Olnak.”
“I comprehend your meaning, madam.”
The man muttered a spell and pointed the crystal. The stone glowed a pale orange and radiated minor heat. A slight hum, a shimmer, and a dusty vase in the corner cupboard faded and disappeared. “Untraceable.”
Earwig clasped her hands like a schoolgirl. “I must have that jewel.”
“And so you shall.”
The two haggled over the price, then Earwig went to Minnabec and snatched a bag of his gold. Though reluctant to part with the funds, she paid the merchant. He handed over the crystal with the incantation required for activation. After he tucked his remaining inventory in his coat, Earwig led him to the front door, but the peddler stopped before the oak door. He covered the crystal in her hand with his own.
“Never say, “Indensmek Diddlebot Biddleborn-wat, in the presence of the crystal,” he whispered to the witch. Then once again, he smiled.
“Begone, nasty little man. I’ll say what I please.”
No sooner had she slammed the door shut on the unusual peddler than she began to twirl the crystal in her hand. Delight overwhelmed her, and she chuckled, looking at the stone.
“With this, I can eliminate even Memlatec, leaving the royal family vulnerable to eradication.”
The witch walked back into the formal reception room no one had used since Minnabec confiscated the Earwighof. She surveyed the room’s contents, pointed the crystal, and muttered the incantation. A candlestick on a table dissolved into thin air. She vaporized a vase and then a chair by the fireplace. Each thrill made her giggle until she thought about the spell the little dealer warned her not to use. Curiosity as to what happened to the crystal when one uttered the forbidden phrase worried her. She fretted through the evening and rose in the middle of the night, going to her jewel case on the dresser.
“What harm can I do? For his revenge at my rejection, that presumptuous, little man probably warned me not to use it just to prevent my gaining the crystal’s full power.”
She snatched out the crystal and pointed it at an overflowing wastebasket.
“Indensmek Diddlebot Biddleborn-wat!”
The crystal glowed but didn’t stop at pale orange. Pale orange intensified to a deep flame umber burning Earwig’s hand. She flipped the hot crystal from hand to hand before she realized half the contents of her bedroom were gone. Still, the crystal grew brighter and hotter. A maid heard the noise in her room and entered only to disappear before she could speak. Holes appeared in the palace walls; cold air rushed in as more things disappeared. Earwig grew frantic. The crystal’s resonance accelerated.
“How do I shut this thing off?”
A great cavern gaped in the hillside behind the palace. A lamp crashed shattering on the floor when the table beneath disappeared.
“What’s going on in here?” Minnabec asked as he rushed into the chamber. His food-stained nightgown appeared as if on a coat hanger under his nightcap. He scanned the bare shell of a room riddled with amorphous holes, his eyes gaped. His jaw dropped. He turned loose the door handle and snatched back his hand as the door vaporized.
“I have no idea how to stop this thing,” Earwig screeched.
She turned again toward Minnabec, and he ducked as a line disappeared in the wall behind him, and the part above collapsed into rubble at the base of the former wall.
“Throw that dreadful object outside!”
Unable to control the hot crystal, Earwig was all jitters. She feared she’d level the palace or have it topple on her, so she threw the glowing crystal out a yawning hole in the wall. Both rushed to the opening, plunging their heads into the incoming cold draft. They leered down in time to witness the crystal shattering into a thousand fragments on the stone terrace. For a while longer, fireworks shot in every direction until their power waned.
“That what you wrenched my gold for?”
“So it is…was.”
They turned back into the icy room, shivering, arms wrapped tight to their middles as they glared at each other.
“All gone,” the witch said.
Minnabec shuffled toward the open doorway and muttered to himself as he went. At the opening, he turned and beheld the duchess. “My precious gold, too…”
Earwig raised her hand, and the duke bolted around the corner.
* * *
The peddler returned to the Wizard’s Tower and Memlatec to report on the experience at the Earwighof. Memlatec and the merchant laughed in the wizard’s study over a glass of wine, of which the little
man was most fond.
“You say she’s plotting to vaporize something she’s traced heading for Olnak,” Memlatec said.
“So it would seem. The Duchess mentioned only that. She said ‘him,’ but changed to ‘it.’ As you suspected, something happened at Hyemka, and she’s pursuing her quarry to Olnak.”
Memlatec refilled the little man’s glass.
“She has a dangerous crystal?”
The peddler’s eyes twinkled as he took a sip of his drink.
“I know my customers, and I recognize her kind. I planted the seed of the crystal’s destruction in her mind. Her curiosity, coupled with her suspicious nature will make her do what I warned her not to do. I doubt the crystal will be a factor in her plots.”
The two tapped their wine glasses.
“Thank you for your help in dealing with the witch. She is a treacherous woman.”
“Dangerous yes, but I think as much to herself as to others.”
The peddler finished his wine, declined to stay the night in the Wizard’s Tower, and moved on. Memlatec knew Tournak had made it as far as Hyemka and evaded some sinister plot Earwig set there. He dared not try to reach Tournak for fear the witch would follow his envoy.
“Olnak will be full of Earwig’s agents,” Memlatec said to Aleman, his housekeeper cleaning up the study behind him.
“Yes, and Tournak and the boys are heading there,” Aleman said with a sigh.
8: Olnak and Favriana Fortress
The elfin boat sailed down the Nhy as it broadened at the delta near Neuyokkasin’s western coast. Forests, pastures, and fields along the banks gave way to marsh reeds whipped into soft green waves by coastal breezes. The tenacious salt marshes, subdued by the incessant blustery weather, held the battlefield as elemental foot soldiers in the land’s clash with the ever-surging sea. Bony driftwood, preserved by the brackish water, spiked here and there, dotting the pale orange sandbars speckled white with bleached clamshells. Occasional weather-beaten trees stood alone as defeated yet defiant generals, the last holdouts from forests long since abandoned to the raging coastal storms.
“We’ll be approaching Olnak soon,” Tournak said. “Have either of you been there before?”
“Nope,” Bodrin said.
“Heard of it,” Saxthor said.
“Olnak is the kingdom’s busiest port situated on the horn of Neuyokkasin’s western coast where the Nhy flows into the sea. Most trade with seaports on the Tixosian Sea passes through Olnak. Neuyokkasin sends the Vos Plain’s agricultural products and tackenbeck from the farms of eastern Neuyokkasin downriver to trade with Tixos. Tixos exports rich mineral ores and timber from her mountains in exchange. Additional trade goes to ports of the Powterosian Empire to the southwest. We need to take care of our business and leave as soon as possible for Tixos. I’m sure Earwig’s spies lurk in Olnak looking for us.”
“I’ve heard stories of a fabled dragon deep in the Tixosian Mountains,” Saxthor said. “It’s supposed to have a horde of gold, silver, and jewels guarded by the dragon Yamma-Mirra Heedra.”
“Those monsters were supposed to have died off in the Wizard Wars,” Bodrin said between munching on nuts. “No one but Memlatec still believes such stories.”
“The old magician always seems to take the huge reptiles seriously, but I believe they were made up in stories to scare us kids.” Saxthor turned to Tournak at the steering oar. “You think there’s any truth to the tales about Yamma-Mirra Heedra and Tixos?”
“Dragons did play key roles in the Wizard Wars.”
“Wonder if we’ll get a look at him, if the stories are true, I mean.” Saxthor laughed, but he watched the sorcerer’s response.
“Yeah, if he spots you, the dragon would need to pick your boney self his out of his teeth,” Bodrin said. He gave Saxthor a glance from the corner of his eye. The glimpse met the full force of Saxthor’s staring, pinched face. Bodrin’s innocence melted away into a sheepish grin.
Tournak chuckled, yet said nothing.
The boys are too young to understand a dragon’s power, magnitude, terror, and ferocity, Tournak thought. I hope they’ll never encounter Yamma-Mirra Heedra. If they do, they aren’t likely to live to tell tales.
“Soon, we’ll dock in Olnak and take a ship to Tixos.”
“This’ll be the first time we’ve traveled beyond Neuyokkasin, Tournak,” Saxthor said. Bodrin nodded. Both boys looked ahead downriver to catch their first glimpses of the kingdom’s most prominent port.
“Keep an eye ahead on your right. You’ll soon spot Olnak when we round the next bend in the river.”
“Wow, is that Castilyernov Fortresska?” Saxthor said. His neck craned and eyes popped to get a better view.
The granite fortress loomed on the horizon, a sharp silhouette against the autumn sunset over the Tixosian Sea. The inward-sloping stone foundation rose on the harbor’s northwest point like an anvil; its point jutted out toward the sunset. A jetty protected the harbor from the sea’s capricious onslaught, and royal triremes stood at anchor skirting the fortress. Fortresska’s smooth stonewalls spiked eighty feet above the water. The moat on the north side deterred attack by land yet wasn’t wide or deep enough for attacking ships to enter. Heavy battlements topped the massive walls, providing quick access to all areas of the castilyernov. Troops could expedite the movement of war engines to every front for firing projectiles in rapid response to any attack. Along the walls, between the fortifications, huge catapults, and massive crossbows rested on wheeled caissons for hurling boulders or shooting burning log-sized arrows at attacking ships or siege towers. Seven round towers rose from battlements at strategic points to serve as arsenals and barracks for the soldiers. Silent in peace, the ominous jewelry bedecking the fortress’ granite neck gave warning. The garrison would crush any invasion should an army or navy threaten the port of Olnak, cradled beneath the portentous stronghold.
Rising from the castilyernov’s core, the massive keep was the fortress’ nerve center. Commanders lived and stored supplies and armor within, in case the enemy ever breached the outer bailey walls. The keep’s shadow swept out across the landscape and over the river. The tip pointed to the little elfin boat as she rounded the river’s curve to gaze on the spectacular sight.
“Yes, that’s Castilyernov Fortresska. Her massive catapults can sink hostile ships attempting to penetrate the harbor or sail upstream. From the ramparts, bowmen are able to prevent an army from crossing the river or attempts to lay siege to the port. No army or navy has ever subdued Fortresska or threatened Olnak’s anchorage,” Tournak said.
“The castilyernov is huge, makes the city below look tiny,” Bodrin said.
“Dusk will fall soon. We’ll tie up along the bank so we won’t need to dodge the harbor’s heavy traffic in the fading light.”
Bodrin sniffed the air, studying at the bustling harbor front. He frowned. “I guess that means we’re eating and sleeping on the boat tonight.”
-
What’s that, thought Twit, when he caught sight of a bulky snapping turtle hauling out on the bank. Those turtles only leave the water to migrate or lay eggs. Why would the turtle come out of the river and over into the bog this time of year? Oh, well, she’s a turtle after all.
-
The travelers settled for the night at the marsh’s edge, not far from where the turtle emerged.
Tournak was first to rise at dawn, still troubled by the turtle’s odd behavior the night before. He had picked up Twit’s observation and wished he had checked to see if the runes on Saxthor’s sword had any slight glow.
I don’t want to alarm the boys with my concerns, Tournak thought. My imagination is getting the best of me. I’m exaggerating the turtle’s significance; she wasn’t following the boat.
He headed to the stern to check the anchor line and froze. A dark snaking shadow slithered about and probed the dirty clothes left on deck the night before.
“A lethal vapor,” Tournak muttered.
Like t
he swamp spirits, Tournak presumed Witch Earwig conjured, this venomous force was a single purpose evil formed on the intended victim’s braided hairs. The thing’s serpentine nature traced its own source for destruction. Tournak couldn’t destroy the lethal vapor with wizard-fire without harming Saxthor.
“Good morning, Tournak,” Saxthor said, emerging from the cabin, scruffy and yawning. He stretched. “You started breakfast yet?”
“Stop where you are,” With a deliberate, slow movement, Tournak pointed to the probing black vapor. “Don’t move.”
“Bodrin,” Tournak called, careful not to shout or move. “The thing is almost pure energy. It can sense the energy ripple of loud sound or quick movement. Bodrin, bring Sorblade and don’t make sudden movements.”
“What can I do, Tournak?” Saxthor said. His eyes fixed on the dark assassin that prodded the dirty laundry.
“Your scent on the clothes you left there last night has attracted and confused the evil thing, delaying its attack on you. Be careful taking Sorblade from Bodrin. Draw the sword from the scabbard when I tell you to.”
Tournak didn’t take his eyes off the shadowy essence. Unable to find Saxthor among the items, the black vapor turned and started down the boat toward the boys frozen on deck. Glistening beads of sweat speckled both in the morning sun.
“Withdraw the sword cutting your hand.” Tournak flicked his hand thrice at Sorblade. “Smear blood on the blade.”
Saxthor hesitated. “Cut my own hand and smear my blood …?”
“Do it!”
Bodrin poked Saxthor.
The pace quickened as the sinister force moved down the deck almost at Tournak. Quivering, jerking movements replaced the tedious, sweeping probes. Frenzied, black molecules surged through the snaking vapor when it located Saxthor’s warm scent. Tournak almost exploded and wanted to scream. Cold chills ran through the wizard.
“Do it now! In a second, death will be within striking distance.”
Saxthor closed his eyes. His shaking hand clutched the sword hilt and drew the blade along the other hand’s palm. Blood spread along the blade. The boy turned pale and wavered.
The Neuyokkasinian Arc of Empire Series: Books 1-3 Box Set High, Epic Fantasy on a Grand Dragon Scale! Kindle Edition Page 10
