“I will.”
“Search for him.”
Cregan carefully built a mind picture of his rival. With the image in mind he sent power through the wand to the white. The fyrestone pointed north and east. Relief washed through him. Arton lived.
A moment later he felt Mecador join him. The added power brought a sense of being invincible. Cregan savored the union. The joined power touched Arton. He wasn’t alone. Mecador seized the meld. Though Cregan resisted, he failed to keep the chief wizard from absorbing his power. Cregan sensed the presence of a third party with Arton. Who?
Fury flooded the joined power. White flames shot from both wands. The flames traveled along the wood. Cregan dropped his wand. He stared at the ashes and blackened stone. “What does this mean?”
“Arton has betrayed us. Lorana is no longer untouched. We must destroy them both.”
Cregan leaped to his feet. “How can I take the seat on the council if he’s dead?”
“You will have your place. When spring arrives you will lead the party into the hills. You will challenge him to a duel of wands. Once you win, you will bring them both here. I will take care of Lorana. Then she will be yours. On that day Arton will die.”
“If she’s been with Arton I don’t want her.”
Mecador laughed. “There will be other women for you. Lorana must remain alive. She is the only one who knows how to brew the poison and the cordial.”
Cregan bowed his head. “If Arton has increased his power as much as you believe, how can I win?”
“You will train every day and your strength will increase, and you will also have the tricks I show you.”
Cregan rose. “Let us begin.”
“Not today. I sensed your fury over me taking charge of the meld. You must control your anger.”
Cregan continued staring at the floor. Anger roiled in his gut. One day Mecador would learn who held the power.
* * *
Lorana sat in the outer cave and stared at the unrolled deerskins. She lifted the knife she’d taken from the treasure room. Though the knife looked like silver, there was no tarnish. The blade remained bright. No matter how many times she’d used it the edge remained sharp. She closed her eyes and thought about making the first cut. Using her trousers and tunic as a pattern she hesitated. She hoped her attempt to replicate the garments worked. Once cuts had been made she used a thin pointed knife to make holes in the leather.
Using thin pieces of hide she sewed the garments. The task took three days for the first and two for the second set. With the clothing complete, she made large and small sacks. Some were lined with stomachs and bladders. These could hold liquids. Arton helped prepare what they would need to carry food and water. Though Dragon couldn’t carry either of them on his back, he could carry provisions. Arton designed a halter for this purpose.
Would Arton come with them? Though he’d shared Dragon’s memories, she wasn’t sure. After helping her with the sacks, he sat and constructed wands of ironwood with stones of different colors at the tips. She feared he made them for the wizards. How many wands did he need?
A sound startled her. She raised her head. Arton knelt in front of her. “I must tell you this. All I have seen and heard from Dragon makes me believe the wizards must be driven away.”
She nodded. “Can you tell me just how powerful they are?”
“There are twelve wizards of the first level. All are powerful, but Mecador is the strongest. Cregan is his student and has the potential to match his father. There are eleven wizards of the second level. They may have as much power as the others.”
Lorana frowned. “Will they work together?”
Arton cocked his head. “I’m not sure. I once heard one of the others say Mecador can meld with the other wand wielders.”
“How many can he control?”
“I don’t know but he challenged at least five of the other council members to gain his position as chief wizard.”
“So he’s the real power.” She rose. “Do you think he has taught his son all he knows?”
“He would show Cregan some of his tricks,” Arton said. “Mecador knows how Cregan craves power. I think he would hold back some of his methods.”
Lorana rose. “With Dragon’s help, we’ll make plans for the spring.” She felt they had a chance to defeat the wizards. Especially if she could find fyrethorn bushes and persuade the clans to join the fight.
* * *
Dragon waited in his lair for Arton and Lorana. The pair reminded him of the red and blue riders. Unfortunately they would never experience the joy of flight. They could enjoy the pleasures of being bonded. Lorana was afraid Arton would enslave her. Dragon wished there was a way to calm her fears and convince the young wizard she was his equal.
Though Arton was wizard-trained, he wasn’t one of the blood. His ability to use the other stones made that clear. Could Lorana use one of them? Dragon had doubts. Her ability to speak to him without aid deemed that impossible. He might ask her to try, but not yet. Not until she felt more comfortable with their plans and with Arton.
Chapter Nine
The cold season drew closer to an end. Cregan sat on his bed propped by pillows. Fantasies abounded, and in each one he emerged the winner. The most pleasing one involved a duel of wands when he defeated his father and his five supporters.
A smile crossed his face as he pulled his favorite fantasy into his thoughts.
The council room with the long table appeared. Six seats on each side with one at the head emerged. One of the chairs stood empty. Cregan waited at the foot of the table. He kept his hands behind his back. The other council members stood behind their chairs.
“Welcome to the council,” Mecador said. “Claim your seat.”
“I challenge you to a duel.” Cregan waited for a response.
“You will not win.” Mecador activated his wand. Five other wands glowed white.
Cregan brought his hands forward. Each held three activated wands. He attacked. One by one the stones at the tip of the other men’s wands died. Cregan marched to the head of the table. “This chair is mine. I am now Supreme.”
His wild laughter ended the fantasy. Anger simmered. His gut churned and he fought the urge to act now. A raging hatred of his father, Arton and Lorana rolled through him. Today he must remain the calm and eager student.
Slowly the racing rage ebbed to become a glowing ember. His gut calmed and the burning in his chest faded.
He rose from the bed and went to his work table. He placed five white fyrestones on the leather tray. With care he touched each stone to assure himself they possessed power. By evening the new wands were hidden in his room. Two men would face his challenge, and in the proper order. Arton first. Then Mecador. This must happen before Lorana was schooled by the chief wizard. Cregan refused to allow his father to use his twisted ways on her.
He left his suite for the dining room. His smile broadened. He had a plan. Did his father know the trick of activating more than one wand? He certainly hadn’t included the method in any of the tricks he’d taught. That discovery had been Cregan’s and, hopefully, only he could perform the trick.
Cregan loaded his plate with food and sat at the table reserved for those eligible for the council. He was alone and would remain the only person at the table until he achieved his goal.
* * *
Lorana filled another sack with meat she and Arton had smoked. She left the outer cavern and carried her burden to the cold room. There, she placed the bag with the others to be taken when they traveled to the desert. Would they find the allies they needed? She returned to the outer cave to wait for Arton to return from a final scavenge.
Arton stepped inside. Lorana couldn’t stop her sigh of envy. His trousers and boots showed little sign he’d been tramping in the snow. He removed his cloak and shook off a little snow gathered on the lower edge. He set two sacks on the ground.
“Lots of okala nuts. No mushrooms. I found some frozen berries we c
an eat tonight. On my way back I came upon a honey wasp nest and managed to remove a dozen cones without rousing the creatures.”
Lorana smiled. The sweet sticky substance produced bursts of energy, something needed for the trek. “Dragon brought ironwood. Many small pieces, but two long ones we can use as staffs.”
“Since there are small pieces let’s take them for our night fires. We’ll be sleeping outside.”
“Good thought.” She carried the bag of honeycombs to the fire and took a sack lined with a roe deer stomach. She expressed the honey into the bag. The sticky substance soon covered her hands.
Arton laughed. He clasped her wrist and brought her hand to his mouth. He licked the palm.
Lorana felt shivery inside. Memories of what they’d done the day Dragon left to find ironwood filled her thoughts. Her fear for her friend had vanished under Arton’s touches. She drew a deep breath. Arton smelled different, the new aroma brought a rush of heat through her body. Did he want what they’d shared to happen again? She did but she didn’t want to be a slave.
‘Lorana, we should leave tomorrow.’
Dragon’s interruption changed the flow of her thoughts. ‘I’ll tell Arton.’ She stepped away and passed Dragon’s message.
Arton held the almost full honey sack. “I’ll take this to the storage room. Dragon’s suggestion has merit.”
Lorana scurried to the bathing room to wash herself and her clothes. She carried a set of the leather ones she’d made. She intended to pack both sets of the ones made from cloth to wear when they reached the desert.
She stripped and stepped into the pool. The warm water laved her skin. She would miss this when they traveled. She reached for a cloth to wash herself. Instead of a scrap of the dress she had worn she met a hand.
“Arton, what are you doing here?”
“Bathing. Will be ages before we do more than sponge ourselves.”
“I thought about that, too.” She turned on her stomach and swam to where the water was warmer.
Arton followed and caught her foot. He dragged her down. She pulled free and dove deep. With a flip she came to the surface behind him and dunked him. They frolicked for a time.
Then he pulled her against his chest and covered her mouth with his. She felt the firmness of his man part slide between her legs. She would not be his slave. He kissed her and began to move. She gripped his shoulders. He clasped her rear. His movements continued. She cried out. He growled her name.
What had just happened? He hadn’t been inside, yet her body had reacted in the same manner. So had his.
He kissed her lightly. “We need to dress.”
She nodded. “And prepare our evening meal.”
Once they finished eating they joined Dragon in his lair. Lorana lay next to her friend. Arton moved his blanket closer and settled beside her. Sleep came in a rush.
‘Lorana, wake. The sun has risen. The days grow longer. There is a distance to travel to reach the oasis.’
‘I’m awake.’ She rose and donned her new clothes. She knelt beside Arton. “Morning is here. We must eat and load the supplies on Dragon.”
Arton yawned and stretched. He threw off his cover. Her eyes widened. She hadn’t realized he slept without his clothes. She turned away, but not before she saw his erect man part. She scurried from the cave. The emotions flooding her body frightened her. She would not be a slave to him or any man.
While she cooked okala nut flour with meat and mushrooms, Arton joined her. He squatted at her side. “Don’t fear me. I’m your friend and would be more.”
She drew a deep breath. “I will think about this, but I won’t be turned into any man’s possession the way the women of the hareem are.”
He shook his head. “You are more than the hareem women.”
“Am I? They have never been given a chance to show what they can do.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “When we drive the wizards away, we can give the women of the hareem a choice.”
She filled a plate with the prepared food. “That’s for another day. We should eat.”
“Where’s Dragon?”
“He’s hunting and will return soon.” She took some of the cakes onto her plate and left the others for him. After stirring a pot she sat and ate.
“What are you cooking?” he asked.
“Meat broth for our flasks.”
He grinned. “I like the way you think.” He patted her hand. “While we’re traveling through the snow, a hot drink will be a welcome treat.”
Dragon landed and entered the cavern. Arton went for the harness. While he fastened this to Dragon’s back, Lorana carried the packs from the cold room. Once the loading ended Dragon waddled to the exit and flew.
Lorana gasped. He barely skimmed the trees. He returned and landed in front of the cave. ‘Is the pack too heavy?’
‘A bit, but the load will become lighter as you use things.’
Lorana filled their water flasks with the steaming liquid. She doused the fire and donned her wolf-lined cloak and pack. After Dragon flew away, she and Arton left the cave. She regretted departing. In the cave system she had found safety for the first time since her father had sold her.
When the sun reached midday they stopped for a meal. Lorana pulled her cloak closer. As long as they had been moving she hadn’t felt the cold. Now she did.
‘Come and sit beside me,’ Dragon said.
She pressed her body against his warmth. Arton removed his cloak and draped the cloth around her. The dragon skin warmed her body. His scent surrounded her. Soon Arton brought the stew they’d cooked. While they ate, they huddled beneath his cloak. When they finished they set out again.
Once they left the forest, deep snow impeded their path. They moved across a plain filled with drifts, some as high as her head. Their progress stalled.
‘Dragon, help us.’
The large animal landed. ‘What can I do?’
‘We need a path across this flat area.’
Dragon plodded ahead of them, Lorana trudged after her friend. When they stopped that night to make camp, they had reached the end of the plateau. In the morning they faced a descent. They unloaded Dragon. He flew to hunt.
Using the orange tipped wand Arton started a fire. He added several pieces of ironwood.
Lorana set two pans of water on the fire. “I wonder how much more snow we’ll have to face.”
“Not sure,” Arton said. “I could burn a path using the orange.”
She frowned. “Didn’t you say Mecador will know when you use a wand?”
“I’m sure he can sense the use of a white, but I’m not sure about his ability to see when I use a colored stone. None of the wizards at the citadel can sense the power of more than white fyrestones.”
“Still, it might be best to use any of the stones for no more than short bursts.” She filled cups with broth from the steaming pan.
* * *
Arton stared at the clear ribbon of ice he walked beside. He used his ironwood staff to help maintain his balance. Though slow, the steady pace brought him closer to the foot of the hill. When the thaw arrived the stream would break from the crystal covering and flow down the mountain. Lorana followed, taking the same cautious approach as he used to avoid a fall on the ice.
He wondered if he would ever fill warm again. For five days they had traveled through the chill, snow covered landscape. At night he and Lorana curled against Dragon. The animal’s head allowed them to sleep in comfort.
A day or two later, less snow covered the ground. They approached a land where rock formations jutted from the earth. How long before they encountered one of the clans? He prayed Lorana could persuade them to join her rebellion. He and she were but two plus Dragon against thirteen first level wizards and eleven second ranked. He had to count Cregan in the number of first ranked.
They paused near a rocky outcropping where water gathered in a pool carved from stone. He wanted Lorana to attempt to use the wands, something th
ey should have done before they left the cave system.
Quickly he and Lorana fell into their routine of making camp. They unloaded Dragon who left to hunt. He started the fire and filled the pots with water. Lorana prepared the meal. On a flat place greased with animal fat she made thin cakes of okala nut flour. She thickened the stew with more of the nut meal. After eating the stew they ended with the nut cakes spread with honey.
Arton placed four wands in front of her. “I want to see if you can use any of these.”
Lorana lifted the white. “What should I do?”
“Reach inside yourself and find a spark. Send this from your arm into your hand and then to the wand.”
She tried. Nothing happened. She shook her head. “Doesn’t work.”
“Try them all.”
When she handed him the final wand, she sighed. “They’re not for me. I’ll have to use my knife, sling and my connection to Dragon when we face the wizards.”
“Can you listen to him and at the same time protect yourself and fight?” He leaned forward. “When you speak to him you look like you’re staring at nothing.”
“I’ll work on that. I think I do that because at first I couldn’t believe I was really hearing and speaking to him.”
Arton thrust the wands into his belt sheath. He heard a guttural groan. An ice wolf leaped from the rocks. Lorana freed her sling.
“Call Dragon,” Arton shouted. He pulled a wand free and faced the huge beast. Long fangs jutted from the creature’s open jaws. The animal’s coat showed a change of color from white to gray. Arton gasped when he saw the stone at the tip of the wand. Red wasn’t the color he wanted. He fumbled in his sheath for another.
The fierce beast leaped for Lorana. Her shot went wild.
Arton finally pulled an orange wand free. He sent a surge of fire toward the animal. The flame singed the ice wolf’s fur. Lorana leaped. The beast leaped toward her. A howl filled the air. Arton edged toward the pair and found an angle he hoped would miss her. He sent a narrow flame toward the creature. The fur flamed. Lorana rolled away. He went to her and pulled her into his arms. She trembled and so did he. The stench of burning fur filled the air.
Wizards of Fyre (Island of Fyre Book 3) Page 11
