“Well, she was my friend and I was leaving,” Justan said to Jhonate. He looked back at Vannya. “I was in a hurry and . . . I wanted to make you feel better.”
“If all you wanted was to make me feel better, why not stop at the apology? Why did you add that line about me being ‘wonderful and beautiful and-’?” Vannya’s hand flew to her mouth. “You were leaving the possibility open, weren’t you? That way if she rejected you, you could come back and try with me.”
Justan winced at the hint of truth in her accusation. He shook his head at both of them. “No, it wasn’t like that.”
Jhonate pursed her lips and threw an arm around Vannya’s shoulder. “Come, Vannya. Let us go eat.” The mage nodded and with one parting glare, they walked out of the infirmary tent.
Justan stood and went after them. “Come on, you two.”
“You can eat with your other friends, Sir Edge,” Jhonate said.
Justan watched them walk away, his mind numb.
I told you to leave, Fist said.
Justan sighed.
“What on earth did you say to get those two to act so friendly?”
Justan turned, surprised to find Professor Locksher standing behind him. “I . . . suppose I gave them both something to be mad at.”
“Ah, that can happen when dealing with women,” Locksher said sagely.
“I woke up this morning wondering if I would see either one of them again and now it feels like I could lose them both,” Justan said, reaching up and gripping his hair. “What should I do, professor? Vannya is my friend and I don’t want to lose her, but Jhonate . . . she is the one I have feelings for.”
“That is a tough one,” Locksher agreed. Then when he noticed Justan’s expectant look, jumped and said, “Oh! I apologize! I didn’t mean to give the impression that I had experience dealing with this kind of situation. Romance is a distraction I have been fortunate enough to avoid.”
“Oh,” Justan said in disappointment. He watched them round the corner in the distance.
“However I do have that information I found about your frost rune if you have a few moments,” Locksher said.
“Of course, professor,” Justan said, glad for something to distract him from his other troubles. Maybe he could finally learn why the Scralag was living in his chest.
“Please follow me to my tent and I will show you what I found,” the wizard said, leading the way.
Locksher’s tent was only a short distance away. Justan noted that it was situated apart from the others as if everyone else gave it a wide berth. The moment the wizard opened his tent flap, Justan understood why.
An unpleasant stench wafted out. It smelled like burnt leaves and spoiled meat. Justan covered his nose as he followed the wizard in. The tent was just as messy as the wizard’s apartment in the Mage Tower, but Locksher cleared away a place for Justan to sit.
Justan switched to mage sight and sat down carefully, making sure that he wasn’t touching anything. The floor of the tent was littered with magic items. Next to him was a soiled piece of blue cloth that had been draped over a large object on a platter. Justan saw slight movement from the object and felt a little queasy.
Locksher noticed his expression. “Please forgive the smell. Faldon won’t let me keep my experiments in the command tent anymore.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Justan said.
“Well, the search for knowledge isn’t always pleasant,” Locksher said. The wizard dragged over an oversized pack that was mostly empty and rummaged around inside. He pulled out a ragged-looking book and handed it to Justan.
“The Scralag’s book,” Justan said. The book was old, its leather binding faded and cracked. The front cover was torn in half. The only words he could make out were the letters ‘BO’ on one line and what looked like the letter ‘A’ further down. “Were you able to decipher it?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Locksher said. “I took it to the Mage School in Alberri to Wizard Flenn, the foremost expert in Magical Encryption. He studied the book for some time. The kenetosia spell on it was particularly nasty, but he eventually found a way around it. That didn’t help much, though. Even when he wasn’t vomiting, it was unreadable. The letters just shifted around.
“Flenn is convinced that this book was enchanted by a wizard that wasn’t trained in magic ciphers at all. He must have used some sort of personal formula because the book uses a very unique set of spells that don’t follow the usual patterns. Flenn thinks it was likely either a private diary or spell book.”
“So the entire trip was a dead end?” Justan asked, disappointed.
“Perhaps not. Flenn said that there was likely a key to the book that one had to be in possession of to read it. If we could find the key, we could disable the spells.”
“Oh. Well the Scralag didn’t give me any key,” Justan said. “I don’t even remember it giving me the book, really. I just found it shoved down the back of my pants when I finished running away.”
“Are you sure?” Locksher asked. “The object wouldn’t necessarily look like a key. It could be anything really. Most likely small, something that could be carried around easily and used when reading the book.”
Justan shook his head.
Locksher raised a finger. “There is something that might help. The morning we left Reneul, your father took Vannya and I into the Scralag Hills and we were able to find the spot where you described meeting the elemental. Now you said that it stood by a large boulder and pulled something out from under it?”
“I assumed that that was the book,” Justan said.
“Well, we found that cluster of boulders you spoke of and under one of them we discovered what I believe to be the remains of the wizard that eventually became the elemental you call the Scralag. It was a crushed skeleton that had been there for decades. It was wearing what was, as close as we could tell in its deteriorated condition, once a blue wizard’s robe. In what was left of a pocket we found these.”
Locksher reached into his robes and pulled out a small pair of wire spectacles. “The lenses were cracked, but I was able to repair them.”
Justan picked up the spectacles and examined them. The frames were square and the lenses themselves fairly thin. The right one had a round hole carved out of the center of it large enough to poke a finger through. Justan looked at them with his mage sight.
“There’s barely any magic to them at all,” Justan said. “Did you try to read the book with them?”
“Of course. That was the first thing I tried, but there is no effect. I have examined the magic in them as well, but there is no rhyme or reason to it, almost as if they were part of an unfinished spell. This made me think that perhaps the key we are looking for would be small and round, maybe the missing piece of that lens. Perhaps if it were put together, we could read your book. Does that jog your memory?” Locksher asked hopefully.
“No. I’m sorry. There wasn’t anything else that it gave me, not-.” Justan grimaced. “Not unless it did give me something and I dropped it in my hurry to get away.”
Locksher’s face sank. “Well that is unfortunate, because I searched the place for magic and there wasn’t any trace of it other than what’s in these spectacles.”
“Well in regards to the Scralag itself, the reason you weren’t able to find a trace of it is because it isn’t there any longer,” Justan said. He pulled up his shirt and tapped his fingers on the rune. “It’s here inside my chest. Master Coal says it’s bonded to me just as much as Fist or Gwyrtha.”
Locksher’s eyebrow rose. “I must know more.”
Justan told him about the fight with the bandham and how the Scralag had appeared and defeated it.
“You know, this information may have helped earlier in the conversation, Sir Edge,” Locksher said. “The elemental itself would likely have the answers you seek. Have you tried to communicate with it since it re-entered your chest?”
Justan sighed. “Yes, but the barrier across our bond has reformed. I can
’t get through it unless I try to unravel the spell again and the last time I did that, I watched it eat Kenn’s frozen heart in front of me.”
“Well, you may have no choice if you want the answers to the questions you seek. I would go ahead and have you do it now, but you make a good point. We can’t have a frost elemental roaming around the camp freezing people.” Locksher frowned thoughtfully. “How about this? When this battle is over, come to the Mage School and you and I will go to the Magic Testing Center together and unleash the thing in a safe environment. Perhaps then, we’ll solve your mystery.”
Justan smiled with relief. “Thank you, Professor Locksher. That would be a great help.”
“Very good,” the wizard said. “Now we only have a short time until Faldon’s meeting. We should head over there.”
“Okay, but before we go, I must ask you.” Justan pointed to the soiled blue cloth. “What on earth is under that? There has been movement under there ever since we’ve been talking.”
“Ah, now that is an interesting thing,” Locksher said and lifted the cloth away.
Underneath was the rotting head of a monster. It was emaciated, its greenish skin barely stretched across the bones of its skull. Yet it still seemed alive. Its beady eyes, shriveled and half decayed, rotated in its sockets and its large toothy mouth hung open, the jaws moving slowly back and forth while a long withered tongue lolled around on the platter beneath it, trailing a thick slime.
“What is that?” Justan asked in disgust.
“Ah, fascinating, isn’t it?” Locksher said with a grin. “That is the head of a modified troll.”
“Modified?” Justan asked, grimacing at the grisly trophy.
“Yes, the mother of the moonrats began throwing these creatures at us when we were harrying her caravans in the mountains. Nasty things. Completely inflammable. Not only that, but they are resistant to the effects of pepper.”
“Pepper, sir?”
“Oh, that’s right, you wouldn’t have heard. The pepper discovery is a recent one. Pepper is poisonous to trolls. It halts their ability to regenerate and kills them if you give them a large enough dose. However to these modified trolls, pepper only stops their regeneration. It doesn’t deteriorate their cell structure at all.”
“But that thing is barely alive at all. It’s rotting,” Justan said.
“Ah yes, well that’s because it’s starving,” Locksher said. “Right now as it is just a head, it has no means by which to digest any food. That’s why I’m keeping it here, you see, to see how long it continues to live without sustenance. It is quite amazing, really. Speeding up the regeneration rate of the troll should have also rapidly increased its metabolism. It should have wasted away long ago.”
“How long have you had it?” Justan asked.
“Oh, several weeks. It is quite fascinating how efficient it is. A normal troll has a metabolism so high it will die of starvation in a single week without food. It’s the only reason that the whole land hasn’t been overrun with them.”
Justan looked at it more closely and switched to his mage sight, then spirit sight. “Professor, this troll was transformed by Ewzad Vriil.”
“By Ewzad Vriil, you say?” Locker raised an eyebrow. “And how do you know this?”
Justan told Locksher of the Rings of Stardeon and how Ewzad Vriil used them to transform creatures. “But what worries me with this one is that it isn’t acting like the rest of his creations. They usually melt away once slain.”
“Ah, I see,” Locksher said. “As their spirit leaves the body, the transformations have nothing left to power them and the whole process unravels. Fascinating!”
“Master Coal also says that a creature transformed by the Rings of Stardeon will eventually die unless the magic is constantly charged by the power of the rings,” Justan said.
“Very strange. I wonder why they are holding together.”
Justan began to worry. If Ewzad Vriil had figured out the secret to keeping his beasts alive, he had become far more dangerous. “Did this troll by any chance have the heart of a dragon?”
Locksher gave him a quizzical look. “No, I examined it thoroughly. Its cell structure was changed to make it larger and faster, but its heart was still a troll heart.”
“Do trolls have blood magic?” Justan asked.
“Not in the traditional sense, though I can see how blood magic could be a catalyst to help stabilize magic changes. A very astute question, I’m impressed, Sir Edge,” Locksher said. “But no, the only beings with blood magic are Elves, Dwarves, Gnomes, and Dragons. However, a troll’s sheer regenerative ability and metabolism may act as a substitute, keeping the changes from weakening.”
“I just had a frightening thought, professor,” Justan said.
“Oh?”
“How many of these creatures have you fought?” he asked.
“Jhonate defeated four of them herself. We had to completely incinerate their bodies to kill them,” Locksher replied.
“What would have happened if instead of killing it, she had cut it up in tiny pieces?”
“Each piece would eventually grow into another troll as long as it had enough food to sustain its growth,” Locksher said.
“But would the new trolls be regular trolls or modified trolls?” Justan asked.
“I don’t know.” Locksher said, then swallowed, “I see your concern, but that shouldn’t be possible. By the very laws of magic, there has to be a give and take. In order to both increase the regeneration rate for these trolls and at the same time decrease their metabolism, it would take a fantastic amount of energy. That may be supplied by Stardeon’s rings, but I don’t see how that could be maintained through multiple generations of trolls.”
Justan shrugged grimly. “Nevertheless, we need to consider the possibility that Ewzad Vriil is growing an army of modified trolls out there somewhere.”
Chapter Twenty Two
“First I must say how pleasing it is to see the sheer number of people we have gathered together,” Faldon said, his gaze sweeping across the representatives of each group that stood in the command tent. “I believe that with the force assembled here, we have enough manpower to disrupt the besieging army and scatter them back into the mountains.”
There were mixed grunts around the room, some in agreement, others with apprehension.
Jhonate stole a glance at Justan. Her heart thumped and she quickly turned her eyes away. He was still watching her. He had been doing so ever since they entered the command tent.
When she had seen him ride into camp earlier that day on his monster mount, her heart had nearly stopped altogether. He looked so different from the boy that had left her standing at the southern entrance to Reneul. He was taller and more muscular and his face had filled out some. She had been worried that perhaps he had changed too much. But then he had walked towards her, the look in his eyes had reminded her so much of the old Justan. Then that girl had kissed him.
She looked at Vannya and noticed that the mage was still steadfastly resisting the urge to look at him. It bothered Jhonate that the girl had a stronger willpower than she did. They had promised each other earlier that they would ignore him for a while.
Vannya had assured her that silence was the best way to punish a boy that misbehaved. Jhonate didn’t completely understand but she knew it would be torture if Justan refused to speak with her, so she had agreed. They had waited until the others had entered the tent and then Jhonate had gone to stand with the other students while Vannya stood by Locksher. Neither of them acknowledged Justan, who stood by Master Coal and their bonded.
“Right now it may seem like we know little of what we are facing,” Faldon said. “But gaining that knowledge is the purpose of our meeting tonight. I want to go around to each group and share what we know about the enemy. I believe that divided amongst our separate groups are all the pieces of the puzzle we need.”
The meeting lasted into the night. Faldon started things off, telling the others of t
heir discoveries in the mountains and Jhonate’s revelations regarding the mother of the moonrats. He then asked Captain Demetrius to speak.
The captain told them about the state of affairs in Dremald. The city had been locked down, only merchants being allowed to come and go. The nobles were restless, upset at being kept in their estates, and the people were frightened and angry. Queen Elise was the only thing keeping the city together, making constant appearances and giving speeches regarding the enemy threat that could fall upon them at any moment.
Then there was Lord Protector Vriil, secretive and dangerous, quick to accuse people of treason. His men walked the streets doing as they wished, sometimes ripping men or women from their families, arresting them without giving reasons.
The garrison was held close, camped around the city, told only that they were there to protect Dremald from an unknown foreign menace. Everyone had heard of the academy’s predicament but most were unable to help since any soldier that left would be charged with treason.
The War of Stardeon (The Bowl of Souls) Page 32
