“Well, then I guess I will have to rely on you to protect me,” Mikal says with a grin. He holds out his staff in front of him and searches for anything before him. “We must reach the city by nightfall.”
***
Just before sundown, they stand before two soldiers who guard the main gate to the city. They question everyone trying to enter. A heavy-set guard scrutinizes Mikal, Aden, and Kairn the one-armed dwarf.
He directs his inquiry to Aden. “What are your names and what is your business here?”
“I am Aden Ferrum and this is…”
Mikal interrupts, “I am Timothy. I am here to see, so to speak, Madam Burnshire at the School of the Red Salamander. She is expecting me shortly and I do not wish to disappoint her. This is Kairn my servant.”
The thickset guard looks distastefully at the dwarf. “Well, don't let him wander alone in the city. We don't take kindly to that.” The sentry waves them on. “You may pass.”
They move deliberately into the city, Mikal tapping the ground before him. Majam looks up at the many looming towers scattered about. Mikal says, “We must find which one is called the Dragonfly.”
Aden shakes his head. “There are many. We should ask someone.”
After questioning some local townspeople and vendors on the street, the Red Wizard amends his statement. “We should ask someone with knowledge about this tower.”
The dwarf speaks. “Week udd goat two the lie barry. Miss tier Focks hill wood no.”
Mikal nods. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“It worries me greatly that that the two of you are beginning to think alike,” quips Aden.
“I believe the library lies this way.”
The three wind their way through the city streets and soon stand before Stonegrove’s impressive library. It is late, and the double doors are closed. The dwarf knocks loudly with his strong right arm. They wait, and he knocks again. One of the massive double doors opens slightly.
A young boy looks up at the three strangers. “I am sorry, but we are closed.”
Mikal bends slightly and softly says, “Tell Master Foxhill that Mikal Novastar has an important question to ask of him.”
The boy’s eyes brighten. “Weren’t you with Talon at the archery contest weeks ago?”
Mikal nods. “I was indeed. You were the boy who was wounded, or should I say chosen.”
“Yes, I am he. Where is Talon?”
Mikal shakes his head. “He is not with us at this time but I hope to see him soon. Go now and give your master my message.”
The boy runs off, leaving the door ajar. The three and the cat step into the vestibule and close the door behind them. Shortly, the head librarian and the young boy approach the group.
“Oh, Mikal, are you injured?” asks Foxhill earnestly.
“Forgive me.” The White Wizard removes his blindfold, revealing his milky, swirling eyes. “I was wearing this blindfold for a different reason.” Foxhill accepts this without explanation.
“You know Kairn,”
Mr. Foxhill responds, “Of course. It is nice to see you again and thank you for your interpretations.”
“Eye inge joid dit. Enny tyme.”
“And this is Aden Ferrum and, of course, my cat Majam.”
The young boy kneels down and pets the large, dark pet. “Our time is short, my friend. May I ask you which of the many towers is called the Dragonfly?”
Derrick hesitates. “That is a rare question. I dare say, only a few people in the city would know.”
Mikal smiles. “That is why we came to you.”
“If I remember my lore correctly, when one of the first towers was built, the Duke’s daughter chose it for her quarters. And every night at sundown, dragonflies of all sorts would flit about. Thus the dragonfly tower. Again, few people would know this. You say your time is short?”
Mikal nods. “I have a special meeting tonight at the top of that tower if I can gain access to it.”
“A special meeting, you say?” Derrick gives a quizzical look.
“I am sorry that I am being so cryptic, but it is necessary.”
The head librarian looks to the White Mage. “You would have to go through a number of important people to gain entry to that tower. Mikal, my best estimate would be two to three days…or you can follow me tonight,” he says with a sparkle in his eye. “I would ask one favor. If I get you there on time, may I witness this special meeting? I will not interfere in any way. If not, promise to relate to me what transpires. Life can be so dull in this town.”
Mikal responds, “I can make no promise at this time, but I indeed need your help.”
Derrick addresses the boy. “Hurry, young Robert, and fetch my cloak. It is coolish out this night. I recommend that Aden and Kairn remain here. You should make yourselves comfortable. We have plenty of food and drink and, of course, books to read. The boy knows where everything is.”
“As if a dwarf is going to read.”
Aden continues, “I recommend that I accompany you. The city is not safe and I can offer my protection.”
The librarian shakes his head. “I disagree. I know the city, and I tell you Mikal has nothing to fear. From what I know of him, he can protect both of us. Why don't you try some of my wine? It is quite good, you know.”
Mikal grabs his staff. “I agree with Derrick. You stay here and try some of his wine.”
“Just what I need - to spend the night with a drunken dwarf.”
Chapter 29
“Derrick, it may be best that I use the name Timothy, at least for tonight. I will wear my hood up, as well.”
The re-blindfolded White Wizard holds on to Derrick's arm. With his cat just ahead of them, they set out for the Dragonfly Tower. Mikal, using Majam’s senses, can notice people as they pass by. Most move aside and some look away.
A few start the strange, familiar mantra: None shall bar his path and all will prevent him from leaving. Mikal still does not understand its origin or meaning.
They move without incident through the streets until they come upon a young woman drawing water from a well. The head librarian presents himself. “Good evening, young lady. I am Derrick Foxhill and this is my friend Timothy and his lucky, black cat. I am wondering if you could spare water?”
The woman looks to Derrick then to Mikal. It is as if she knows that she should recognize them, but she does not. “Yes, sirs, drink.”
She offers a brimming ladle and the head librarian and “Timothy” have their fill. Majam does not partake. Upon returning the ladle, Derrick tells her, “Here are some silver coins for your kindness.”
The young woman eyes grow wide and her mouth opens in a smile. “What are you about, sirs?”
“A private affair. We must be on our way,” Derrick replies.
They enter the upscale, noble part of the city. The head librarian surprises Mikal by turning toward the main gate of the Duke’s estate. Two neatly uniformed guards stand before iron wrought bars.
Before they can question Derrick Foxhill, he stands tall and with a distinct voice intones, “I am the head librarian and I am on a mission of great import. I must enter the estate without delay.”
The guards hesitate, and Foxhill threatens, “Do not dare bar my way.” The two relent and open the gates.
“Well, we passed the first obstacle,” Derrick whispers.
They travel across the grounds until they arrive at the main doors. An impeccably attired sentry blocks their path. “The Duke has retired for the evening and he will see no one.”
Derrick waves his hand. “That is acceptable for we are not here to see him. I am here with my friend Timothy to gain access to the Dragonfly Tower.”
The guard’s forehead wrinkles in puzzlement. The head librarian laughs and points upward. “That one.”
The guard follows his gaze and protests, “But some of the Duke’s court live in that tower, and it is very late.”
Derrick shakes his head. “I give you my word we
shall not disturb anything. And I know that no one lives on the top floor and that is our destination. We must go there. Get out of my way. If you are not sure what you should do, go ask the Duke. I am sure that he would not mind, and you would only lose your head if I am mistaken.”
The librarian grabs Mikal's arm and moves past the perplexed guard. “Luckily, I have been a guest in this Hold quite often. Also, it is most helpful that I have memorized all of the blueprints of the older buildings in the city.”
He easily finds the door to the winding staircase that leads to the top of the tower. Mikal fears he might be too late.
As they wend their way up the spiral staircase, they arrive at a trap door. Derrick stops and says, “You know, Mikal, the dwarf Kairn finds you most puzzling. He holds no grudge against you, for he knows your actions saved his life but he wonders why you did such a selfless act on one such as he. Kindness is something he has seldom encountered. He has grown quite fond of you, and that also confuses him.”
The White Wizard does not know how to respond.
They find the door unlocked and enter the top floor of the Dragonfly Tower, high above the city. A lit torch casts its weak light on a circular room no more than twenty feet across. In its center is a small, round table with two plain chairs. There are unlit braziers at the four cardinal points and next to them four carved dragonfly tiles set into the circular wall. The spacious windows are covered with wooden shutters.
Mikal removes his blindfold and, with the help of Derrick Foxhill, opens the shutters wide. The head librarian asks, “What should we do now? No one is here.”
The White Wizard laughs. “I am going to sit and wait.”
Majam jumps and sits on the table just in front of her master. Mikal allows his staff to produce a soft, bluish-white light. The night continues as the stars rise higher in the sky.
Something catches the eye of the cat. She stiffens. A flying creature of some sort rapidly approaches the tower and begins to circle.
Mikal mumbles, “That is a raven, curse them.”
A knowing voice from behind corrects him. “I believe it is a Blackhawk, not a Raven.”
The large, flying thing circles a second time, and then plunges from sight. Mikal waits, and sees it returning from the north, slower than before. It enters the tower through one of the newly-opened windows. The Blackhawk lands on the back of the chair across from Mikal. No one moves. The hawk twitches its head first to the right than to the left. It spreads its glistening wings wide and grows larger and changes before their eyes. When the metamorphosis is complete, a striking female with impossibly long, smooth, onyx hair stands before them.
“My name is Mira. I come with great haste in the name of Evalon, the Earth Mother, Mikal Novastar, White Wizard from the great City of Addis…” Mira lowers her gaze. “And his beautiful, black cat Majam. Greetings.”
Mikal rises from his chair and bows slightly.
She continues, “Who else is here among us?”
Mikal responds, “This is Derrick Foxhill, the head librarian of the City of Stonegrove. He is my guide and I trust him completely.”
The mysterious lady/hawk nods and positions her hands on the table, palms up. “Mikal, you are to place your hands on mine and, soon after, my lady will speak through me. You will hear her voice and you can speak to her through me. If you break contact, the enchantment will vanish.”
The White Mage sits and places his hands in hers. He senses a mystical energy traveling between them. Mira's head starts to droop, causing her glistening hair to fall, obscuring her face. Unpredictably, her head snaps forward and her dark eyes open wide.
She smiles. “Good fortune is with us this night. It is good to see you again, White Wizard. Wear your new title well.”
Mikal's eyes start to swirl and he becomes aware of an aura surrounding the lady/hawk. It is the same one that surrounded Evalon when he first met her.
Evalon: I know you have had contact with the Dark Harold. What has transpired between the two of you?
“It was but a dream, but I was told it was real. I challenged him to combat in seven days at the Valley of Endorr. He asked me who would be my Champion and I responded ‘Sir Rusel Ironwood’. Have I chosen poorly?”
“The champion is acceptable. Is he aware of your choice?”
“He is not, but I hope to summon him before dawn. I pray he will accept.”
“In that there can be no doubt, Lady Evalon’s voice declares.
“My concern, good lady, is that the Dark Knight casts a dreadful aura of fear that few can resist. Also, the Paladin’s light armor is old and worn. The tip of his sword is broken, as you might know. He lacks a horse.”
Mikal waits for a response. “I know the location of enchanted armor. It will serve our purpose well, but it is dangerous to acquire and far more so to wear. Listen closely. There is a small lake east of the city. In its center area, there is an eternal mist. No sailor or fisherman will take you there, but you may rent a small boat. A tiny island lies in the mist and on it stands an ancient tower. When you enter, you will feel compelled to take the stairs to the top floor. Resist. If you follow, you will forget why you are there. Instead, on the ground floor you must seek a trapdoor and traveled down below the lake. There will be obstacles and tests along your path. You must defend yourself, but do not harm any creature. Tell the last Guardian that your champion fights in my name and with my colors. I will get them to you somehow. Sir Rusel should have the means to capture a war horse. Now, as for the sword…”
Majam instantly stands, her ears perked, and meows menacingly. A shadowy raven swoops into the tower. Majam leaps and knocks it from the air. Instantly, more dusty colored ravens fill the tower. Chaos erupts. Mikal abruptly stands and grabs his staff. The communication enchantment with Evalon is broken.
The White Wizard yells, “Close your eyes!” A blinding white light overflows the room, blinding and disorientating the dark flock of birds. Mira steps back and morphs into the huge Blackhawk. She takes flight, tearing into two ravens with her razor-sharp talons. She darts away, outdistancing any pursuers. The tower, though, is still filled with the carrion birds. Mikal is startled by a high-pitched sound and the four braziers flare to life. The foul birds immediately flee. The White Mage spies the head librarian standing by one of the lit braziers with a torch.
Derrick says offhandedly, “I thought it was common knowledge that birds don't like fire and loud sounds.”
Mikal can only smile.
Derrick gushes, “That was amazing! Where did all those birds come from? And that Hawk, it turned into a woman. And you spoke to someone else who I have a feeling is far away. Tell me, Mikal, does this is happened to you often?”
The White Wizard grins and shakes his head. “I must admit, yes. At least of late. Master Foxhill, the night is almost gone. Please give me directions to the old building that I believe is now a barracks.”
The head librarian nods. “There is one east of here. It is rumored to have been built before the city even existed.”
“I believe that is the one,” Mikal eagerly responds.
“Forget the directions. It is quicker if I personally show you the way.”
“Yes, but it is late.”
“I know. I have not been out this late since… I have never been out this late, ever. It is quite exhilarating.” He then adds theatrically, “Follow me.”
They clamor down the steps and, with the White Mage’s cat guiding him, they transverse across the Duke’s estate. They ignore questions from the guards.
“This way, I believe.”
It is a few hours before dawn, but there are still people in the streets. Some Mikal believes are up to no good. They all move aside when they recognize the head librarian. In less than half an hour they find themselves outside the doors of the ancient barracks.
Mikal holds his staff high. “Should we knock?”
Derrick shakes his head, opens the door, and enters. Dim light, bad odors, and loud snoring
greets them, but no one is awake to question them.
The White Mage takes the lead. “Follow me, sir.”
Mikal stops at the back wall and allows his staff to glow. He finds the hidden handle and, as before, opens the secret portal. He hears a gasp from Mr. Foxhill. As they enter a large circular room with a cobblestone floor, Mikal's staff glows brighter and illuminates the entire area.
The head librarian takes a moment to interpret the murals on the wall. “This looks like a room for meditation. Paladins, the ancient knights of the Wizard Wars, would have met here.”
The White Wizard nods. “Please, wait over there by the unlit sconce.”
Mikal takes his position at the first mural and repeats the pattern he did weeks earlier. When he has concluded the circuit, he evokes the name of Sir Rusel Ironwood.
Derrick breathes in sharply, for he sees in the center of the room a thin, wavering, luminous, green line. It is approximately six feet tall. The column thickens and assumes a human form. The aura fades, and before them stands a knight clad in chain mail and a shield, but no helmet. He wears heavy, leather boots and his hair is almost shoulder length and fair. On the left side of his clean-shaven face is a scar that travels from his eye to his chin. Whatever had been on the shield long ago has been obliterated. The Paladin is awake.
He places his hand on his sword. “Your need is great and I am here.” His eyes focus in the gloom. “Oh, it is you Mikal Novastar. How long since I was last summoned?”
“Not long. Just a few weeks.”
“That is good. I see your lucky black cat is with you still, but where are the others and who is this?”
“This is Derrick Foxhill, the head librarian of the City of Stonegrove. He is my guide this night.”
The ancient knight looks long at the older man. “Well met, Derrick Foxhill, head librarian.”
Master Foxhill stares, slack-jawed.
Mikal says, “I will fill you in on the affairs of the others later.”
“Mikal, I somehow know you have chosen me for your champion.”
“Yes, I have, with all humility. The reason is that the Dark Harold has risen and he is seizing souls and spreading fear and terror throughout the land. Will you fight him for me and for a noble cause?”
The Warrior and the Wandering Wizard (The Way of the Wandering Wizard Series Book 2) Page 17
