The Sorceress of Aspenwood Trilogy Pack

by Sam Ferguson

  “The enemy?” Feberik echoed.

  Herion nodded. “There are dark forces all about, my friend. Shadowfiends, necromancers, demons, dragons. The list goes on. To be sure, some of the other masters help from time to time, but if you want the full taste of action and glory, then you need to shake my hand and accept the offer.”

  Feberik nodded and looked down to Herion’s hand. “If I refuse?”

  Herion nodded solemnly. “Then I will wipe your memory of this part of our conversation and you will remember only that I scolded you for your over-zealous indignation at Caspen Manor. The choice is entirely yours. You will not be punished for refusing, but, if you want to help direct the course of Kuldiga Academy, then you should consider joining. I will add that you have no chance of becoming headmaster if you do not join. However, if you do become part of our unit, I have a feeling that in time you will become a top contender for the position.”

  Feberik took in a breath and thought very carefully. “Is it worth it?” he asked.

  Herion smiled and his brilliantly white teeth shone brightly. “Feberik, this is what you were born for. These are special assignments from the king. We root out the most dangerous snake pits in the kingdom, and then we eradicate them. Think carefully before you refuse. I cannot make the offer twice if you say no.”

  Feberik studied Headmaster Herion’s eyes for some time. Everything in his soul was pulling for it. Even despite the doubts in his mind, which were few, he knew what he would choose. The large man reached forward and took Herion’s hand. “I’m in,” he said.

  “Excellent. Go now and take the rest of the night easy. Your induction will occur tomorrow.” Headmaster Herion then wove a spell over Feberik and a silvery tingle ran through the man’s body. “That’s to make sure you don’t say anything about it to anyone else. Go now, supper will be ready soon.”

  Feberik nodded and went for the door.

  “Oh, and one more thing,” Herion called out.

  Feberik spun on his heels to regard the old wizard.

  “You really should try spending a day or two in your pajamas, it does wonders for the mind and soul.”

  *****

  Kyra opened the door to the classroom and went inside. The early morning sun beamed in from the east, illuminating several spots on the stone floor with its bright light. Cyrus was seated in his chair behind his desk. He was smoking a pipe today, and looking rather weary as the young apprentice made her way to her desk.

  “Figure out the lesson I was trying to teach you?” Cyrus asked, referring to the passage about the wraith.

  Kyra nodded. “I think so.”

  “Good, then tell me what you learned,” Cyrus said as he leaned back and puffed three small rings of smoke into the air.

  “The text doesn’t mention this, but I tried to ask why the wraith would attack.”

  “And?”

  “The boy must have had something,” Kyra said. “It took me some time, but I think it wanted his blood.”

  “His blood?” Cyrus echoed. “Why on Terramyr would it want that? A wraith is not a vampire.”

  Kyra shook her head. “Maybe it didn’t want the actual blood, but maybe there was something about the apprentice that drew the wraith near. I thought of blood because of what happened with me. The first time the wraith attacked me, I had cut myself on a thorn. Now that I know that I have a…” Kyra couldn’t say the words out loud. Try as she might, she couldn’t shake the shame she felt whenever she thought of what her true father was.

  “A vampire,” Cyrus said for her.

  Kyra nodded. “What I mean is, with that kind of blood, perhaps I attracted the wraith somehow. So, maybe the apprentice cut himself as well, or maybe it was just more obvious, but I would wager that he had something in his blood that attracted the wraith.”

  “Why should vampire blood attract a wraith?” Cyrus pressed, still puffing on his pipe.

  Kyra thought for a moment. “I haven’t quite figured that all out. I know that a shade is like a vampire, only a shade will absorb energy and magical essence, and doesn’t need physical contact in order to extract it. So, I thought either the wraith is naturally drawn to vampire blood, like a moth to a torch, or perhaps the wraith hunts vampires because they struggle against shades.”

  Cyrus smiled and nodded slightly. “Not bad,” he said. “There is still a long way to go, but that is a good start. Now, put that together with the added threat to the wraith. We know there was a powerful master wizard there with the apprentice, so why would the wraith attack so openly?”

  Kyra shook her head. “Everything we have read shows that wraiths, though animalistic and fierce, are intelligent creatures. Therefore, it must have wanted something from the boy, or perhaps perceived the apprentice as a greater threat. Otherwise, it wouldn’t risk itself like that.”

  Cyrus nodded again. “I have researched this particular encounter quite thoroughly. You are on the right track. However, it wasn’t the boy’s blood, or anything else about the boy himself that attracted the wraith. While that may have played some part in your encounter, the apprentice in this particular encounter had something in his possession that was highly prized by both the wraith, and the wraith’s master.”

  “A shade?” Kyra asked.

  “A powerful shade who was known by the name Mitingyra,” Cyrus confirmed. “She was hunting a special artifact. The young apprentice had it in his possession, but he did not know the value of he had at the time. The shade sent the wraith to attack him on that particular day, because on the following day the young apprentice was to be enrolled in Calbeton School of Magic and Witchcraft. Had the wraith not attacked when it did, it would then have to try to take the item from the boy amidst more than a dozen experienced wizards, rather than only one.”

  “What was it looking for?” Kyra asked. “The shade I mean, what did she seek?”

  “That is a lesson for another time,” Cyrus said quickly as he pulled his pipe from the corner of his mouth and set it down in a red bowl on his desk. “However, I can tell you how she died.”

  “Yes, please,” Kyra said. “How was she killed?” She must have acted overeager, for Cyrus cocked a brow and narrowed one eye on her before he finally told her the story.

  “A particularly fine young wizard hunted her down and destroyed her.”

  Kyra leaned forward, waiting for more details. As the seconds passed and Cyrus didn’t say anything else, she frowned. “That’s it?” she asked. “I thought you were going to tell me the whole story, or maybe at least let me read about it.”

  Cyrus smiled and folded his arms. “You can’t read about it. In fact, it is only a story that a handful of wizards even are aware of.”

  “So are you going to tell me?” Kyra asked impatiently.

  Cyrus nodded. “Just thought I would have a bit of fun with you,” he said. “Of course I will tell you.”

  Kyra sighed and shook her head. “That was not funny.”

  Cyrus shrugged. “I know about the book you took from the library,” Cyrus said flatly. “I know you read about Ravenel and the Garunda.”

  Kyra stiffened. How could he have known? She had hidden the book in her bag. She had only taken it out in the forest, and Cyrus wasn’t even aware of where the aspen wood was.

  Cyrus held up a hand. “I’m not going to lecture you, Kyra. Icadion knows it wouldn’t do any good even if I did. You’re too stubborn, and too proud to admit something is beyond your reach. But, do at least listen to this story, all right?”

  Kyra nodded.

  “As I said, I studied the encounter thoroughly. No one else had ever put it all together. As far as I knew, I was the only wizard that was even aware the wraith had been sent to recover an artifact. I researched through all the materials I could find on the subject. Eventually, I uncovered what the artifact was.”

  “What was it?” Kyra asked. “Was it a weapon, or a powerful magic spell?”

  Cyrus shook his head. “I told you before, that is a lesson fo
r another time. You are not ready for that quite yet. Let’s just say that it was something very ancient, dark, and extremely dangerous. As I said before, the young apprentice had no idea what he had found. He thought it was something else entirely. If my calculations were right, this particular item had been missing, and presumed destroyed, for centuries. In any case, once I realized what it was he had found, I knew immediately that we were dealing with something very dangerous. Knowing that most, if not all wraiths serve masters more powerful than they, I dug into what may have been in the area.

  “The encounter with the young wizard had been well before my time, but of course a shade can live forever, like a vampire, unless it is killed. The terrifying part was that the artifact was indeed lost during the encounter. Therefore, even though the wraith died, I assumed that its master had returned for the artifact. I began my search at the location of the encounter. I tracked the traces of dark magic and searched the whole of the area by the stream where it happened, but I didn’t find the artifact. This would have been roughly eighteen years ago now, about three years before you were born.

  “When I failed to find the artifact, I knew the shade had it. So, I researched for another year, hunting down the vile creature. Like you, I read Ravenel and the Garunda.” Cyrus stopped then and pulled a metal amulet out from under his clothes. It was a long, rectangular piece of gold with several runes engraved upon it. “So, I had this fashioned at the hands of a dwarf named Al, who is a great blacksmith living in Buktah. He laughed when I told him I was hunting a shade, but he obliged nonetheless.”

  “It worked?” Kyra asked, her eyes fixated upon the amulet.

  Cyrus nodded. “When I finally found the shade, it protected me from her powers. However, I still had to deal with a large and ferocious garunda.”

  “You’ve seen one?!” Kyra shouted.

  “Seen it? I killed it,” Cyrus corrected. “I took its head, and then used its blood to tip arrows in, just like Ravenel did. Of course, I am a wizard, not an archer, so when I found the shade, we battled with magic until I saw my moment, and then I used my magic to throw all of the arrows. Half of them missed, but two landed in her heart and three went into her skull. Just like in the story, the garunda blood prevented her from healing. She burst into flame and I can still hear her screams. They haunt me in the quiet times.” Cyrus looked down at the desk then and his lower lip quivered. “It’s a sound I doubt I shall ever escape from.”

  “Did you find it?” Kyra asked after giving the old wizard a couple of moments to ground himself.

  He frowned and shook his head. “No,” he said. “The shade did not have it.”

  “So what did you do?”

  Cyrus held up a finger. “Before we get to that, let me show you something.” Cyrus reached up and pulled at the neck of his tunic. Three large, purple scars ran across his collar bone toward his neck. “The garunda did this, as well as shattered two of my ribs with its psionic blast.” The wizard rose from his seat and turned around, conjuring magic with his right hand to lift his hair and show the back of his neck. There were three purple scars there as well. “I was lucky that this attack didn’t take my head off.” Cyrus turned back around and then lifted his tunic to show a strange series of three round scars in his abdomen, just left of his belly-button. “These I got from the shade. She nearly killed me with her magic.”

  “You’re telling me it’s too dangerous to go after the shade that attacked me,” Kyra guessed with a nod.

  Cyrus grinned. “You probably won’t listen, but yes, that is what I am telling you.”

  “If the shade killed my mother, then I want to go after it.”

  “If the shade killed your mother, it will have no trouble killing you,” Cyrus countered. “I’m not saying let him go, I am only saying that you should wait.”

  “Wait for what?” Kyra asked.

  “Wait until you are stronger. Train for the fight. I can help you, and Icadion knows your dragon can be a source of help as well, but you aren’t ready yet. You have to give it time. You understand, don’t you?”

  Kyra sighed and closed her eyes. Logically she understood the old wizard’s words. It made sense. However, she had something that neither Cyrus nor Ravenel did. Kyra had a dragon on her side. Still, she remembered her mother’s words of advice. She decided to let Cyrus believe that his advice had sunk in. She nodded her head.

  “Will you train me for the shade?” she asked.

  “More than that, I will go with you when the time comes to put it down,” Cyrus promised.

  Kyra nodded and then decided to change the topic, thus making it appear that her mind had released its focus on the shade. “Did you ever find the artifact?”

  “I thought I had once,” Cyrus admitted. “You know that I accompanied Janik to rescue your mother, yes?”

  Kyra nodded.

  “I had believed that the vampire that held your mother prisoner had found the relic, but the artifact was not there.” Cyrus sighed and his eyes grew distant as he looked up to the window. “I spent some time after that searching for it, but I never did find it.” Cyrus shook his head and rubbed his hands over his shoulders. “Come, let me teach you some more effective ward spells.”

  “I know plenty of wards,” Kyra said quickly.

  Cyrus flicked his wrist and a blast of air pummeled Kyra, throwing her and the desk back several yards to crash across the floor. “You need more practice,” Cyrus said dryly.

  Gone was the old wizard reminiscing about glories past.

  Now he was the same as always -he crazy old wizard that was anything but predictable.

  Kyra pushed up from the floor and dusted herself off.

  “Come on now, Kyra,” Cyrus said. “The shade will not give you any warning either.”

  The young sorceress nodded and prepared a ward spell just as another blast of air came at her. Even with her ward, the force of Cyrus’ spell had her sliding backward across the stone floor.

  “Again,” Cyrus called out as she centered herself and prepared for another volley. “We’ll work on this until you can deflect my spells. If you have half as much talent as I believe you do, then we should be able to move on tomorrow to a different kind of ward that can dispel illusions. We’ll have you ready for the shade in time.”

  *****

  Only an hour after the lesson with Kyra had ended, Cyrus was sitting at a large, stone table in a great chamber dug out from a stone mountain. A warlock approached from a magically sealed doorway on the far side. Cyrus wondered when the suspicious lot would welcome him into their inner sanctum. He had been working with them for some time now, and he was tired of doing their chores.

  The warlock sat down and tilted his head to the right. Cyrus noted that this new face was much younger than the representatives of the Order of the All Seeing Eye he had previously met with.

  “How does the young sorceress fare?” he asked, fiddling with the sleeves of his black robes until the purple trim around the cuffs was fully displayed properly. A long hood hung loosely over the man’s face, partially covering his features. Like all the others Cyrus had seen before, a medallion hung around this warlock’s neck in the shape of a gleaming triangle of gold enclosing the image of an open eye. “Has she yet pledged her service and loyalty?”

  Cyrus shook his head. “As I said before, the girl is headstrong, and her mother’s murder has given her a kind of raging tunnel vision that makes her unwelcoming to any notion other than revenge. However, I do believe I am gaining her trust. She sees me as an ally, especially now that I am sharing her secret regarding the dragon.”

  “Our order is pleased with the progress.”

  “Tell me why the girl is so important to you.”

  The warlock laughed and shook his head. “My brother has already told you all that we shall ever divulge on that matter. She will be a great ally for us.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  The warlock leaned across the table. “If you were to swear fealty to the Ord
er of the All-seeing Eye, I could shed light on some of the visions we have seen of the future.”

  “I don’t need your visions,” Cyrus said.

  “Then it must be something else that causes you concern,” the warlock said. “Is it the fact that the young sorceress has the same name as your late wife?”

  Cyrus bristled and his head pulled back. Anger rushed through his veins and it was all he could do to keep from lashing out. “You have no right to mention my wife.”

  “Just see to it that you do not baby the apprentice out of some misplaced affection or lingering grief. You are, after all, indebted to us.”

  “Yes, but you know, the information I have gotten from you has never been entirely accurate. First, you tell me that the shade has the dagger. So, I tracked her down and killed her. Then, after that you tell me that Bhaltair the vampire has the dagger. So, I go with Janik to the vampire’s lair and the dagger is not there either. Now, you can’t even find the dagger. All you can say is that I have to find it before Severin does. Perhaps I would be better off on my own.”

  “Is that a threat?” the young warlock hissed.

  “It is merely an observation,” Cyrus replied. “Perhaps your visions are not as powerful as you claim. In that case, I would do well to work the riddle out on my own.”

  “The dagger is still tied with Caspen Manor,” the warlock said. “If you want it, you must look there.”

  “I have looked there already,” Cyrus replied.

  “Then the other option is to go after Severin directly,” the warlock said.

  Cyrus nodded. “I just told the young sorceress about my fight with the shade,” he said.

  “You told her of the dagger?!” the warlock shouted.

  “No,” Cyrus said. “I told her only that there was an artifact of great power that I was trying to recover. She doesn’t know what it is.”

  “Then why tell her anything about it?”