by Stas Borodin
“He was exhausted by the witchcraft?” I asked.
“I think so, Master Grimm,” the wizard replied. “He was on the very brink of madness, and his own generals were terrified of him. It is believed that Hazark was poisoned by one of his wives. That is why the allies managed to stop the invasion.”
“And what about the Atonement rite, did he use it?” I asked.
“That is unknown to us,” shrugged Master Kaledir. “All that we know about this period of history is based upon the stories told by the nomads themselves. The rite of Atonement must be repeated constantly, time after time. You see, at the very beginning, they used only prisoners, thousands of them. When prisoners became scarce, they took slaves and even criminals. The nomads became scared and decided to put an end to all the killings, before it was too late.”
“Just our luck he was an uneducated warlock,” said one of the students.
“Are you joking?” snorted another. “He burned and plundered all of Middleland; he put one half of the population to sword and enslaved the rest.”
“Let me put it this way.” The Master Wizard lifted his hand. “We are extremely lucky all this happened long before we were born.”
The students laughed nervously.
“However, from time to time, powerful new warlocks rise in the vast steppes of the north. Am I right, Master Grimm?”
Everyone turned to me.
“While we’re dozing here in sweet ignorance,” the wizard continued, “a new enemy is at our door, an enemy that threatens the very existence of our civilization. Just a month ago, the army of Lieh paid a high price to stop a new nomad invasion, this time led by the mighty Zontrakian warlock.”
A tense silence hung in the auditorium.
“Why haven’t we been told?” exclaimed one of the students. “It’s madness!”
“The fact is, our rulers are afraid of panic,” said Bestos, who knew, apparently, an answer to every question. “Those damn bastards would never admit freely that some mere border kingdom saved us from disaster! They’d rather pretend that it was an insignificant border skirmish.”
I couldn’t bear it any longer and jumped from my seat. “We lost ten thousand men in that battle,” I said. “Thirty thousand nomads and Zontrakians are dead, and you call that a minor border skirmish!?”
The students looked at me with gaping mouths.
“We still mourn our loved ones.” My eyes brimmed with tears. “Our kingdom’s army is no more. Who will protect you now?”
“Calm down, Master Grimm,” said the wizard, and I felt my tears drying up and heartbeat slowing down. Had he used some kind of magic to bring me to my senses?
“Our rulers are arrogant and haughty,” he said. “For them your home is no more than a small dot on the map. Why worry if trouble is still far away?”
“But…” I felt unnaturally calm.
The Master Wizard nodded. “I know, I know. If not for Master Keandr, trouble would be pounding on our city’s gates already.”
Exhausted, I collapsed onto the bench.
“And who is this Master Keandr?” asked one of the students.
“It is a shame you do not know,” Master Kaledir sighed. The wizard looked at me and then at the audience. “Master Keandr was the biggest loser the Academy has ever seen,” he chuckled. “I must admit that he was a quite gifted magician, but he never knew how to take advantage of his Gift.”
I froze speechless in my seat. I wanted to jump up and accuse Master Kaledir of slander, but my butt remained glued to the bench and my lips couldn’t part to utter a word.
“He was awarded the opportunity to study at Avalor and, surprisingly, was considered to be one of the best Avalor ever had.” The wizard shook his head. “But in the end all this meant nothing. All that he touched was destined to crumble like a house of cards!” The wizard shook his head. “Recently, he was one of Lieh’s rulers, but there he failed once again.”
The audience quieted.
“Such a person could never beat the nomads,” the waistcoated student grunted. “Something smells fishy here.”
I wanted to hug “the waistcoat” who stood up for my liege.
“Well, it seems that someone helped him,” Master Kaledir chuckled. “Otherwise he would have screwed up the whole affair majestically!”
✽✽✽
I decided to call it a day and skip the remaining lectures. Sitting in the dining hall, I stared at the cold ragout, pondering over Master Kaledir’s words.
The wizard had spoken as if he was acquainted with Master Keandr personally. I impaled a piece of meat on my fork. It was obvious that they had known each other for a long time. Maybe there was some old feud? Something wasn’t right; I felt it in my gut.
My thoughts were interrupted by Ice. He slumped down beside me and gave me an evil grin. His nose and left eye were swollen and his chin and cheeks were bruised. I looked at his torn shirt covered with bloody mud and jumped from my seat.
“Gods!” I handed him a fresh handkerchief. “This time they got you good!”
“Nonsense!” He wiped the bloody snot carefully. “If I wanted, I could fry them like damn bugs!”
“You are playing with fire there!” I said. “Who were they? The Blockheads once again?”
Ice spat blood. “Nah, this time they were the Elite.” He fingered a loose tooth. “They got all fired up over this small fire-spitting competition.” Ice chuckled. “I won, by the way, as expected.”
“So why did they beat you up?” I was surprised.
“Money,” Ice shrugged. “They called me a cheat and pocketed all my winnings.”
I felt rage burning hot in my chest. I clenched my fists and hit the table. Utensils and crockery rattled plaintively.
“Hey…” Ice snorted, “I’ve been through worse…”
“They gonna pay for it!” I exclaimed, jumping to my feet. “Come on, Ice!”
We walked slowly, Ice wheezing through his swollen nose and leaning on my shoulder. Good thing the Academy was very compact and our journey was a short one.
The Young Wizards Club was located in a tall slender tower adjacent to the fortress wall. There was a sign on the door “Blockheads, Goofs and Scholars are prohibited! Violators will be punished severely!”
“You’re such a dumbass,” I sighed. “Did you run out of money already?”
“It’s not the money thing, my friend,” Ice shrugged. “There are few of us who can bend fire, the most dangerous element of all. It’s child’s play! Fire must be feared and respected at all times. You see, they all think themselves high and mighty, well, I proved them wrong.”
I remembered that night on the trakee field and the pillar of flame which erupted from Ice’s mouth.
“I have no doubt they were impressed.” I shook my head disapprovingly. “Was it worth it?”
The door opened and we saw a young wizard standing on the threshold.
“Look, brothers, the Goof came for more. This time he brought a Blockhead friend!”
The student stepped aside, letting us in. “Welcome, dear guests, always happy to see you!”
We crossed the threshold and entered a large oval room. Thick expensive carpet muffled our steps. The air was thick with the smell of perfume and alcohol.
“Come on in!” someone giggled.
The door slammed shut menacingly. A heavy bolt rattled home.
Not looking back, I took another step towards a big round table. Glittering crystalware stood on the brocade tablecloth alongside uncorked wine bottles and silver bowls filled with fruit. There were chairs with high carved backs occupied by fine-looking young men. Five in total. They were elegantly dressed, their fancy spiky haircuts strewn with sparkling dust.
I’d seen these pompous pricks before. They strolled the Academy grounds like kings, singing, laughing, brandishing their heavy walking sticks, and chasing away any freshmen who were careless enough to cross their path.
“Look who’s back for seconds!” said a st
udent clad in a bright yellow shirt. “Long time no see! And who is your fashionable young friend?”
Ice squeaked and hid behind my back.
“I know him,” said another student. “It’s the ‘Dining Hall Massacre’ ghoul himself.”
“What a coincidence!” Yellow Shirt marvelled. “I’ve wanted to meet him for a long time.”
I looked around, evaluating my odds. Five wizards at the table and one behind my back. Not that bad! The Zontrakian hordes were much scarier, not to mention the wild rush of the Alims’ heavy cavalry.
I shook off Ice’s embrace and approached the wizards. It turned out that Yellow Shirt was half a head shorter than me. Only from a distance did he look imposing; up close he reminded me of a long-necked rooster with ruffled feathers. I chuckled.
“Did I say something funny?” Yellow Shirt growled. “Did I miss something?”
He puffed his chest out and raised himself on tiptoes, distracting me from another student who was circling me from behind. Without thinking, I punched Yellow Shirt with my right fist. His nose creaked and my fist came out bloody.
I quickly turned on my heels and repeated the whole procedure with the sneaky one. Both wizards went down without a sound.
Four to go. I marked them by the colour of their costumes. Red, blue, brown and chequered. Chequered appeared to be the toughest. Without hesitating, he drew a switchblade from his pocket and launched a headlong attack at me. Face pale, teeth bared, eyes narrowed to barely visible slits, this one was a killer, I knew that right away.
I easily dodged the first blow, but the knife had disappeared from the attacking arm and appeared in the other. Pain seared through my right side. Torn cloth cracked, blood splattered. I grabbed the blade with my right hand, and met the attacker’s chin with the left one.
His head went back, something snapped and he toppled backwards, limp as a rag doll.
It took only a few seconds, but Blue was on me in an instant. He grabbed me from behind, lifting me from the floor. Red and Brown were already on their feet. There were real fireballs in their hands, whirling like mad and spitting bright hissing sparks.
“This is it, ghoul!” Blue hissed in my ear. “Say hello to Annuvir!”
The wizards lifted their arms, preparing to hurl the fireballs, but they were thrown back by a jet of liquid fire. The flames devoured them in an instant, and their fireballs exploded with a deafening bang. A huge invisible fist hit me in the chest, crushing my ribs and forcing the air out of my lungs. I yelped and fell into complete darkness.
Consciousness returned slowly. Noises came first. The ringing of the glass, stamping of feet, the groans of the wounded. Panic swept over me once again. Am I back on the battlefield? What are those cries? Cries of pain? Battle cries?
Gradually my sight began to return. At first, it was like a shadow theatre, populated by headless ghostly silhouettes. I blinked away a hot tear, shaking my head from side to side. The figures kept dancing around me, ethereal, formless, scary. I moaned, dropping my head back onto a damp pillow.
Then, my sense of smell came back. The air was thick with the odours of blood, drugs, burnt flesh and disinfection.
What had happened the day before came back suddenly and in great detail. I saw the figures of the young wizards melting engulfed in a roaring fire; I saw lightning balls swelling in their hands, turning into black holes in a red wall of flames.
Frantically, I sucked the air into my lungs and cried.
“Keep still, young man, everything will be fine!” The voice belonged to a woman. “Let’s take the bandages off.”
The translucent veil was lifted from my eyes and I saw a young uniformed nurse holding a gauze bandage in her hands.
“Thank gods, I can see!” I exclaimed.
Then I saw the wounded. They were lying in rows on either side of me. Big jars filled with brown-coloured liquid hung above their beds, their maimed bodies hidden under the bloodstained bed sheets writhed in pain.
“You will be fine,” the nurse reassured me. “You were luckier than your friends.”
Chapter 5
I looked around and couldn’t believe my eyes. It was terrible! There were at least fifty wounded. Half of them were moaning and screaming, the other half lay still, apparently unconscious. The nurses hurried from one wounded to another, inspecting the bottles of brown liquid and giving injections. A tired doctor sat alone at a table, furiously scribbling in a thick worn notebook.
The nurse tapped the vessel hanging over my bed with a forefinger. “You must have been born under a lucky star!” She smiled at me. “Just a few bruises and a small cut on the side. The other boys weren’t so lucky.”
Only now did I notice a tight bandage squeezing my chest. My side burned, but the pain was bearable if I kept still.
“What happened?” I asked. “I can’t remember a thing…”
The nurse shook her head and stroked my cheek. “Well, you have concussion.” She stole a glance at the doctor busy at his table. “We are not allowed to talk about it, but you were there by yourself…” The nurse took a seat next to me and sighed. “It’s sheer luck so many of you are still alive.” She looked tired. “I don’t know much, but I have heard something. It all happened around midnight. There was something going on by Orvad’s Temple in the West Quarter. You know, the temple has already been desecrated by Mistar’s acolytes a couple of times, so this time the guards were set to grab everyone suspicious.”
She was pretty well informed for a nurse. Her eyes lit up and she blushed. “I don’t know what happened there, but there was a fierce battle. The watchmen even had to call for reinforcements from the City Barracks. You boys fought like heroes! I know I saw a lot of cuts and bruises, so many ugly wounds to treat.” The nurse swallowed hard. “Then the temple exploded. We were all terrified when the floor danced under our feet. We thought it was a real earthquake.”
The nurse squeezed my fingers sympathetically. “Well, you will remember soon.” There was genuine sympathy in her voice. “I know you’ve lost many friends, but you survived, and that is all that matters right now.”
She smiled, straightened her bloodstained uniform and went to the next wounded.
I closed my eyes, heart thumping in my head. Thank Orvad, it wasn’t all our doing! I wondered where my friend was. Was he all right? How stupid I was! I should have asked the nurse when I had a chance…
“Here is your student,” someone said. “Alive and practically unscathed. His friend brought him here yesterday; said they were robbed on their way back from the party. Nothing to worry about, though. One stab wound, some blood loss, he’ll live.”
I opened my eyes and saw the doctor accompanied by Master Raydun.
“Yes, yes, thank you very much,” said the librarian hastily. “I’ll place him immediately under the care of our healer.”
“He needs some rest,” said the doctor. “No parties for a couple of weeks.”
“Ice told me everything,” Master Raydun whispered when the doctor was out of earshot.
“How is he?” I exclaimed. “Is he all right?”
“A bit roasted.” The magician shrugged. “But I helped him to clean off the soot.”
Master Raydun looked angry. “Good thing you didn’t burn the whole Academy down. Now just look what’s going on here!”
Dumbfounded, I looked at the wounded. How could I have forgotten about the note I had received the night before!
I told the wizard about the note and the warning, but Master Raydun just shrugged. “You got lucky once again. Does this look to you like a mere coincidence?”
“But I have no enemies in Paara,” I replied. “I don’t see any connection between the events.”
“Too bad,” the wizard sighed. “It’s a bad time to get slack, my young friend. Enemies are always ready to follow you to the end of the world. Alims, Zontrakians, your fellow countrymen, they all have their reasons to hate you.”
I looked away guiltily.
“T
here are priests of Mistar too. They followed us to Paara.”
The wizard took a step back from my bed and looked around warily. “You never cease to amaze me, Master Grimm.”
✽✽✽
I sat in the wizard’s carriage, wrapped in warm blankets and propped on soft pillows. Ironclad wheels rumbled and bounced on the cobbles sending waves of searing pain through my wounded side. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my sleeve and looked out through the open window.
Paara looked like a disturbed anthill. The streets were crowded with soldiers, city guards and shouting armed men. The air smelled of smoke and panic. The shutters on the windows were tightly closed, traders’ stalls were empty, and even the stray dogs were nowhere to be seen.
“The explosion was so powerful that the temple was razed almost to the ground.” The wizard rose from his bench and shut the window. “I have heard that the magistrate arrested all the alchemist, and sealed all alchemical labs.”
Fighting nausea, I pressed a pillow to my belly and told the librarian about the exploding projectiles that the Alims used in the Battle of Mistar’s Maw.
“Such a terrible invention!” said the wizard. “I hope that they took its secret with them to the grave.”
“I would like to believe that,” I sighed.
We were allowed to leave the city with no problems, but for other travellers the gates remained shut. We even saw a few prison wagons rattling by. The guards grabbed anyone who looked suspicious.
“It reminds me of the time the king’s nephew was killed,” said the wizard, following the wagons with his eyes. “For a few months the city was under a strict curfew.”
✽✽✽
As it turned out, Ice was all right. There were some small burns on his face, but a miracle ointment they made him use had worked wonders.
We had a whole room to ourselves, just two beds, and a table and armchair by the barred window. I could hear guards talking outside.
“Looks like we are prisoners here,” Ice grumbled.
“I don’t care,” I sighed. “Just happy to be back.”
