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The Sorceress of Aspenwood Trilogy Pack

Page 41

by Sam Ferguson


  After all, Kyra was betrothed to Feberik, and Feberik had made it perfectly clear that he would be more than willing to crush Kathair like a bug if he caught him hanging around Kyra.

  Kathair lifted his shirt collar up over his nose and crawled through the dank tunnel. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but he liked Kyra, and they were friends. If he could help her solve the riddle of her mother’s murder, and bring the culprit to justice, then that is what he wanted to do. Had he ever known his own mother, he would assume he would appreciate someone helping him in similar circumstances.

  After about two hundred yards on his hands and knees, Kathair was finally able to stand up. A small, rectangular chamber allowed him to choose between three additional tunnels - two more that had drained into the chamber at some point in the past, and one that flowed outward, or at least he assumed it did, for it sloped downward and was set lower than the others, like a drain. He had never actually followed it though. He had always been just wary enough that someone might unleash water from somewhere and sweep him away that he never dared chance it.

  He didn’t choose any of the tunnels, however. Instead, he turned around and found his chosen handholds in the jutting rocks above him. He climbed up the wall of the chamber and then squeezed into a space that went straight up. It was narrow enough that once he was out of the chamber, he could push his back against the wall behind him and scoot upward with his hands and knees. It was essentially like crawling again, only this time if he slipped, he would end up with a lot more than just a face full of moldy water.

  Up he went, about thirty feet or so, before he found the ledge he was looking for. He reached out with his right hand and pulled himself into a chute that ran horizontally. It gave him a chance to rest his knees a bit. He wormed his way through for about twenty feet and then the chute turned upward again. This time, it was wide enough that he used one hand and one foot on either side, using a kind of half jump to propel himself vertically for another twenty feet. At the top, the chute opened up into a large, square area with beams of wood running parallel to each other across it and smaller poles crossing underneath the beams. The poles held wooden panels in place in the ceiling above Headmaster Herion’s office.

  It had been an accidental discovery the first time, but once Kathair had found it, he had often returned to this spot. Just lying on the beams above the wooden panels was close enough for him to hear any discussion in the office. Some of the conversations had been horribly boring, but many had been quite informative. Why, in his time in the space above the ceiling, Kathair had learned more about the Middle Kingdom than he had in all of his years before, and that included when he had studied with the elves of Tualdern.

  He snaked out onto the nearest beam, careful to move slowly and silently. He didn’t hear any talking from below, but there was no way to be sure the room was empty until he removed a ceiling panel. For all he knew, Headmaster Herion might be sitting in the office reading, as he was often wont to do.

  Fortunately, as Kathair reached down to pull up his favorite panel which rested above a sturdy bookshelf that reached up all the way to the ceiling and had an actual ladder that he could drop down to, he found the office to be empty.

  He maneuvered himself through the open panel and lowered himself down. He was hanging by his hands at arm’s length, just about to drop, when he heard the lock on the door click open and the latch began to turn. Quickly, Kathair pulled himself up, slid over the top of the ceiling, and placed the panel back into position.

  He could hear footsteps entering the room. There was a cough then, followed by a sigh. A few moments later, another set of footsteps entered the room.

  “Ah, Master Fenn, come in,” Headmaster Herion said.

  “You wanted to see me?” Master Fenn asked.

  “Yes, I wanted to ask you something,” Herion replied. “Close the door.”

  Kathair heard the door close and he tried to keep his breathing shallow and light so as not to make any audible noise.

  “Master Fenn, you are one of the foremost wizards of our time, and I know you have been doing quite a lot of research.”

  “I try to remain sharp, Headmaster,” Master Fenn said.

  “Well, what do you think of Nagar’s Blight?” Herion asked. “Is it truly a curse that will last forever? Or, will it fade over time?”

  Master Fenn laughed. “You know as well as I do that Nagar’s Blight is as strong now as it was when it was created.”

  “Sure, sure, but can it be negated somehow?” Headmaster Herion asked. “I have heard of trees that can filter dark magic out of entire regions. Might there be something to that?”

  “No,” Master Fenn said. “That is nothing more than an old wives tale. Trees cannot filter out dark magic any more than wearing a colander in front of your face will save you from toxic swamp gas.”

  “But have you researched it?” Herion pressed. “Has anybody actually researched it?”

  Master Fenn laughed again. “What brought this on?” Fenn asked. “Did that old coot of a wizard tell you that he used to fend off shades with trees?”

  “You mean Cyrus?” Headmaster Herion asked.

  “Yes, I mean Cyrus. I know everyone thinks he is an incredible wizard, but I find his stories about his encounters with demons and their ilk a little beyond believability. If you ask me, he is a braggart who embellishes his former glory days in order to remain relevant enough to teach here.”

  “Don’t forget that he fought off the shade when it attacked Kyra,” Headmaster Herion put in. “Cyrus is not all boasts.”

  “Yes, well, if he was half as good as he claims, then why didn’t he kill the shade on the spot?”

  “Master Fenn, I don’t recall you ever slaying a shade, am I incorrect?” Headmaster Herion asked.

  “No, you are correct, but I have also never claimed to have done so.”

  Headmaster Herion scoffed. “In any case, Cyrus is not the person who put the idea into my head. I heard it elsewhere and thought it an intriguing concept.”

  “It may be an interesting notion, but it has no merit,” Master Fenn replied.

  “And what of dragons in general then?” Herion asked. “Suppose we had no curse to deal with, do you think dragon slayers would still be necessary? I mean to say, do you think we could finally live in peace with the dragons?”

  “I don’t believe so,” Master Fenn said decisively. “The Battle of Hamath Valley was not only fought between us and cursed dragons. There were dragons who freely chose to join the other side as well. If we want peace in the Middle Kingdom, then two races must die; namely the orcs to the south, and the dragons that remain. If either exists, then we shall be doomed to a violent existence.”

  “Yes, yes, orcs I understand,” Headmaster Herion replied. “They endlessly seek opportunities to do battle because they value displays bravery and valor above all else. That is how they attain their own version of heaven in the afterlife, you know.”

  “There is no heaven for those sent to Hammenfein,” Master Fenn countered. “Hammenfein is a realm made of varying levels of hell, and that is all it is.”

  “Yes, but you are forgetting that orcs who attain a certain degree of valor in this life are granted nobility in Hammenfein by the gods that rule the various levels of hell. Here, in the plane of the living upon the face of Terramyr, they are cursed of the gods, but in Hammenfein, they become kings so long as they have fought well here and proven their bravery.”

  “Which is precisely why we can never coexist with them,” Master Fenn put in. “They will always war with us, for that is all they value.”

  “But what about dragons?” Herion asked. “They have nothing of that sort to gain from destruction. So why do you say we cannot coexist with them?”

  “Because they are too powerful. They will always turn on humans. To be sure, the Ancients may have led an era of peace and prosperity over this land, but once the dragons grew in numbers, they even turned on themselves. They are bes
et by the same vices as men, such as greed and jealousy, the only difference is the fact that these vices befall them more easily, and they cause much more destruction when they turn feral.”

  “Surely not all of them turn wicked,” Herion said. “I should like to think that they have some semblance of decency and honor.”

  “No,” Master Fenn said. “From everything I have read, and from my time with the dragon slayers, I would say the opposite is true. A dragon always turns against humans. Whether because of the curse, or a simple function of time, they all turn in the end. No human can tame or coexist with a dragon. Eventually, it will look upon humans as food. They see us as we see cattle. We are nothing more than beasts that are good for food and labor, but we are not considered equals.”

  There was silence for a few moments. Kathair tried to process the words he had heard. Did this mean that Leatherback would turn on Kyra? Kathair couldn’t believe that. The dragon had helped her through so much already. Could it possibly turn against her? Then again, everything Kathair had ever heard pointed to the fact that eventually Leatherback would succumb to Nagar’s Blight. The curse would turn him feral and he would wreak havoc.

  Kathair held his breath as Master Fenn spoke again.

  “Why do you ask me these things?” Fenn said.

  “No reason in particular,” Headmaster Herion said. “I have been conversing with the priests from Valtuu Temple about their beliefs and customs. It is quite fascinating. However, I would assume anything they said about dragons to be biased, of course.”

  “Of course,” Master Fenn said. “I have studied the matter thoroughly, and I have given you my unbiased conclusion that I believe any intelligent man would come to if presented with the information I have gathered over my lifetime.”

  “And that is why I asked to see you, Master Fenn. That is exactly why I asked for your advice.”

  “Is there anything else?”

  Headmaster Herion replied, “No, thank you. You may go.”

  Kathair heard feet shuffle toward the doorway and then the door was pulled closed.

  Kathair forgot about replacing the book and pulled himself up to the larger beam as quietly as he could. He decided that he would go with the dragon slayers on their patrol. Maybe they could shed some more light upon this issue for him and help him understand whether Kyra was in danger, or if it might be possible that Leatherback would remain loyal and kind to her.

  *****

  While Kathair was sneaking around inside the bowels and inner spaces of Kuldiga Academy, Kyra had skipped her session with Cyrus to return to the aspen wood. She had packed food for the day, as well as a few books to keep her company while she sat upon the boulder in the clearing and waited.

  After a couple of hours, a great shadow fell over the clearing. Kyra looked up, but was disappointed to see nothing more than a large, gray cloud.

  Great, all I need to round out the day is rain.

  She stuffed her book back in her bag and slid off the boulder to move to a more covered location, but she took only one step before the cloud itself fell upon the grove. The heavy fog surrounded her and she couldn’t see more than a foot in front of her face.

  The next thing she knew, the ground shook and rumbled.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Njar called out. “It’s us, I was using the cloud to conceal our flight.”

  The cloud vanished and Kyra jumped with joy when she saw Leatherback’s grinning face. The dragon bent its head down and Kyra reached out and hugged his snout.

  “I missed you, I was worried about you!” She pushed back from him and pointed at him. “Don’t do that ever again!”

  “That’s my fault, Kyra,” Njar said. He pointed to his leg and then gently slid off the dragon’s back, wincing and stooping when he hit the ground. “I was wounded in the fight, and he had to carry me back to my home.”

  “He carried you back to Viverandon?” Kyra asked. She turned to Leatherback and smiled. “Then, can he fly to the north?”

  Njar shook his horned head. “No, Viverandon is only a couple hundred miles from here. To reach the next continent to the north, he would have to fly twenty times that distance, and he would have to do it without stopping for rest. That’s to say nothing of the mountains that surround this continent. His lungs likely aren’t developed enough to make that flight.”

  “Why didn’t you send me a message?” Kyra asked.

  “I barely was able to open a portal back to here,” Njar explained. “I think I fell before I could even walk through it.”

  “I pulled him through,” Leatherback confirmed. “Njar was weak. I helped him. I was like Gorliad.”

  Kyra smiled wide and nodded. “Why didn’t you fly back to tell me?” she asked.

  “That’s also my fault,” Njar said. “I put him under a spell to help him sleep. The problem was, I lost consciousness shortly thereafter. Leatherback didn’t wake until the village healers had helped me. Then, we came here as fast as we could.”

  “Why not use a portal?” Kyra asked.

  Njar frowned. “I am still pretty weak,” he said. “I could likely open a portal big enough for me, but not for him. We had no choice but to fly. I couldn’t let him chance being seen either, so I went with him and created the cloud for cover.”

  Kyra smiled and hugged Leatherback’s snout again.

  “Did Headmaster Herion receive my letter?” Njar asked.

  Kyra’s smile faded and she nodded. “He did, but…”

  “Did he ever send anyone to help?” Njar pressed. “I was right about the trap, you know. The shade was there.”

  Kyra looked at him curiously. “The shade was there?”

  Njar nodded. “He attacked with three wraiths. I killed the wraiths, but I think I only managed to injure the shade. If we can find him soon, then we can strike him down before he recovers fully.”

  Kyra shook her head. “First, I need to ask you something.”

  Njar stood straight and nodded. “All right, what is it you wish to know?”

  “Headmaster Herion said that he was there on Kelboa Island, summoned to a peace conference with you and your people. He said that you ambushed them with four hundred warriors and murdered the king.”

  Njar’s face seemed to lengthen as the satyr frowned. His ears dropped and he closed his eyes and sighed. “No, that was not my doing,” he said. “I can explain, if you let me.”

  Kyra nodded. “I need to know everything.”

  Njar leaned heavily upon his staff. “In those days, King Jarek was keeping company with warlocks, shadowfiends, and necromancers in his court. I believed that he was being misled, and that the dark wizards deceived him. I called the summit, and invited the whole of his military and magic officers, so I could expose the evil deceivers. However, I was not the chief of my tribe then. I was only an elder. The chief agreed with my plan, and allowed me to take a few of my advisors. However, I did not know that he had his own plan. He waited until the meeting had only just begun, and then he and a group of powerful satyr wizards opened portals for the army to march through. They began slaughtering the humans without warning. I tried to stop it, but there was nothing I could do. King Jarek was slain early on, and from that point on neither side could be calmed.

  “I fled with thirty others back to the ship we had arrived upon. All of the others died there in that hall, including our chief. After that day, I became the new chief of my tribe. I tried to send letters to King Mathias over the years, but they were never answered. I knew Herion would not accept my help, but I hoped he would at least heed my warning.”

  Kyra smiled and nodded. “He sent others to Caspen Manor,” she said. “I don’t think you should count on reconciling any time soon, but for what it’s worth, I believe you.”

  Njar bowed his head. “I will help restore balance any way I can. Unfortunately, even satyrs are not immune to greed and anger. Thus, I can only offer help from a distance, but I will always be there for you.” Kyra put out her hand. The satyr took it
in his furry hand and shook it. Then he looked to Leatherback and smiled. “However, we do have something to announce, don’t we Leatherback?”

  Leatherback grinned wide. “We found garunda beasts!”

  Kyra’s eyes opened wide and her smile curled upward and made her cheeks flush red. “You did?!”

  Njar nodded with a smile. “There is one that prowls alone in the south. As far as I can tell by what I saw in the Pools of Fate, it is not with the shade at this time. Rather, it is hunting in the mountains.”

  “What does it seek?” Kyra asked.

  Njar frowned. “It is near the cavern where your mother was held. It is possible that it is a remnant from before, or it could be that the shade has sent it to scout the lair. According to the Pools of Fate, if we wait for two days, it will be on its way out of the lair. We can surprise it then, and overpower it.

  Kyra smiled and nodded. “I will need to tell Lepkin,” she said. “He will be happy to hear of this.” She almost told Njar about the werewolf, but decided it was better not to worry the satyr more than necessary.

  Chapter 13

  Kathair stoked the fire as Dengar and the other dragon slayers finished plating their meals. The men were busy talking about how they would kill whatever beast it was that was terrorizing the countryside. Kathair listened for a while, trying not to smile too much as he recalled how he and Kyra had actually taken down the werewolf, and how Kyra had told him she and her dragon had destroyed the Wylkins. Two second year apprentices were managing the work of dragon slayers as a bit of summer entertainment. His thoughts soon drifted back to Kyra and her dragon. He knew what the dragon slayers had been teaching him in the months since he had been assigned to work with them, but he couldn’t help thinking that Kyra was right about her dragon. Now that Leatherback was helping her hunt down the strange beasts that were infesting the nearby lands, Kathair was more convinced than ever that the creature would never harm anyone, other than perhaps taking a sheep or two for himself, but even Kathair had to agree that was fair payment for his services.

 

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