“But she can visit,” Zollin said between yawns.
“Perhaps, that might be nice,” Kelvich said. “Here, take a little wine.”
The wine was strong and made Zollin grimace, but he swallowed it. It burned its way down his throat in a completely different way than the hot broth had. His eyelids were drooping, and he sagged on the cushions.
“Go to sleep now, Zollin,” Brianna said. She had hoped their time together would have been longer, but she knew he needed rest. She had seen him awake and okay, it would have to be enough to sustain her through the long weeks ahead.
“Okay,” he said sleepily. Then he drifted away and dreamed of warm summer days.
* * *
Three days later the bird reached Isos City. It flew directly to the inn where the Mezzlyn leader was ensconced. Branock had not been with him when the bird arrived, but the assassins wasted no time in gathering their things. They had been gathered together for what was a very important job. Now it was over, and the death dealing agents were being sent on other business around the Five Kingdoms.
When Branock returned from his walk around the harbor, he was surprised to find Owant preparing to leave. The vile man traveled in a large, black carriage pulled by two draft horses that were so massive their hoofs seemed to make the ground tremble, as if it were afraid of being trod upon by such beasts.
“Where are you going?” Branock asked.
“Our job is done, and I am returning to Osla with all haste. Don’t get me wrong, Isos has its charms,” he said, caressing one of the serving girls, who appeared to be supporting the gaunt man’s weight on her own narrow shoulders. “But I prefer a more civilized home.”
“Your job isn’t done,” Branock said angrily. “The boy lives.”
“Oh, I’m afraid not,” said Owant. “I received a bird just a few short hours ago. The boy was killed by my agent’s poison dart. You can question the man when he returns here. I’ll leave word for him to find you.”
“You fool, I can feel the boy’s power. He is not dead, your agents failed.”
“It is you who are mistaken,” said Owant in an icy tone. “My agents never return unless they have fulfilled their mission. They will kill or be killed, there is no alternative. Now stand aside, I grow tired of your company.”
“You grow tired of me?” Branock sneered. “I have choked on your insolence long enough.”
There were four Mezzlyn assassins in the small courtyard. They moved immediately, drawing razor-edged daggers from the voluminous sleeves of their cloaks. Branock merely smiled at their leader as the assassins raised their blades to their own throats, their faces flushing as they fought against the wizard’s control of their own bodies.
“Shall I have them slay themselves for your vanity? Or perhaps the girl? No, that won’t do, she means nothing to you. I think I’ll have them slay the horses.”
“No,” shouted Owant, suddenly very worried by the wizard’s threat.
“I would slay you where you stand, cur, but I may have use of you. Go on your way, tell everyone you meet you have succeeded. But be warned: do not return to the Torr for your final payment. The master has no fear of you or your brigands, and the price of failure is death. Are we clear?”
Owant’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded.
“Go instead to Orrock and wait for me there.”
“Do you have payment?” the Mezzlyn leader asked in an arrogant tone.
Branock pulled his bulging purse from its place on his belt. He held it out toward the pale man and then dropped it into the muddy snow.
“Do as I say, or you shall not live to regret it.”
Owant nodded and pushed the girl after the money. She scooped it up, and they climbed into the carriage. The four assassins took their positions on the lumbering wagon, two on the driver’s bench, two standing on pedestals above the rear wheels. There was a slap as the leather reins popped against the big horses’ rumps. They set out of the courtyard, the carriage rumbling as it rolled over the snow encrusted cobblestones.
Branock spun on his heel and walked quickly away from the noisy inn where he was staying. He would need to find Whytlethane and inform him of the Mezzlyn’s mistake. It would play perfectly into his plans. The elder wizard would see this as their opportunity to make up for the mistakes they made at Tranaugh Shire. They could capture the boy and return to their master’s good graces. Although Branock had no intention of returning. He had bigger plans, and the elderly wizard was about to fulfill his part. Branock smiled as he walked. All he had to do now was wait on the winter snows to thaw. It was fast approaching the winter solstice, and then the days would grow longer, the weather warmer, the seas calmer. Then his plan could begin in earnest. Once he had Zollin under his control, his first item of business would be making the idiot Owant suffer for his insolence. Zollin hoped the man would heed his warning not to return to Osla, but if he didn’t, he would get his just dessert. Branock was certain that Zollin was not dead. In fact, at that very moment, he could feel the young wizard’s power. It was pure and strong and growing more powerful every day.
* * *
“Blast!” Zollin said in frustration, watching the misshapen lump that used to be iron ore glow red once more. He would have liked to see it burst apart, but the metal was too dense.
“Concentration is more than just thinking about something without distraction,” Kelvich said. “You have to push your mind into the object and become master of it.”
“It’s so difficult,” Zollin complained.
“Aye, it is difficult, but not impossible. You do this quite well when you are attempting to heal a wound.”
“That’s because the flesh is so pliable.”
“Well, there’s a reason blacksmiths use fire and hammers to shape steel. It isn’t easy.”
Zollin had been reading a lot since he had woken up after his fake death. His body was still tired, it was as if the drug still lingered in his muscles. He had considered trying to heal himself, but it was an impossible task. The Gypsum flower had infiltrated every fiber of ever muscle, and Kelvich was convinced the only way to overcome the plant’s effects was through exercise. The first muscle to be purged seemed to be his mind.
“Dig deep. You know how the process works; rearrange the metal on the deepest level, then you can manipulate its shape.” Kelvich was pacing now. “You have the raw material; iron is forged into steel by mixing the iron and carbon together. Smithies use fire, you use magic. It takes concentration and control, not to mention a good amount of magical power. In the olden days, the most precious metals were mined by the dwarves and molded by wizards to make the greatest weapons.”
Zollin focused his mind on the lump of iron again. He knew there were other materials in the metal, he could feel them. They were like grainy oats in a silky dough that he was kneading with his mind. He could feel the impurities, but the metal was so tight, so unpliable that it seemed impossible to separate them out. He pushed his mind further and further into the metal. He could sense the individual components, there were thousands and thousands. Each one spinning like moons around a sun. The iron had 26 moons, while the carbon only had 6. He needed to separate the iron from the carbon, then reintroduce the carbon in a controlled amount. But it was like trying to hold water in his hands; the carbon was being pulled back into the iron faster than Zollin could pull it out.
“I can’t do it,” he said, panting.
“Tap into your power,” Kelvich explained. “You have to apply greater force to the spell.”
“But I thought you didn’t want me to use that power too much.”
“Why do you question everything I tell you and then remind me of what I’ve said?” Kelvich asked. “You can’t hide from your power.”
“I’m not hiding,” Zollin said. “It’s just that I don’t want to lose control.”
“You learn control through practice,” the sorcerer explained. “You can’t learn it if you’re always avoiding it.”
�
��But you said I was getting out of control the last time I tapped into that power.”
“You were,” Kelvich said, “but there were people pushing the limits of your patience then. Now it’s just you and me, no one to smash like a bug... I hope.”
“Alright,” Zollin said.
The truth was, he didn’t mind opening himself up to his power, it was intoxicating and thrilling at the same time. But in most cases it was accompanied by a sense of malice and superiority that he didn’t like. He felt as if he could lose himself in the thrill of his abilities, and that scared him. He released the power and felt the flames of magic engulf him. His mind shot into the lump of iron ore like an arrow, and he knew that if he wanted to destroy the metal now, he could do it. He could break it apart like a child smashing a sand castle.
“Now separate the impurities,” he heard Kelvich say.
Zollin felt the carbon and traces of other impurities. He pulled them apart, his will now much stronger than the natural forces that wanted to hold the ore together. Slowly, he let the carbon slip back into the metal. He felt it strengthen. He played with the balance until he felt the carbon begin to weaken the metal again. He removed a bit more and then cast the impurities into the fireplace with a thought.
Kelvich could feel the power radiating from Zollin, as if he were standing next to a baker’s oven. The sweet aroma of the boy’s magic was as delicious to Kelvich as any honey cake. He stared at the lump of metal which was hovering in front of Zollin. It shimmered and rolled like liquid metal, although it didn’t look molten as it would in the blacksmith’s forge. When Zollin cast away the impurities they sputtered and popped in the fireplace, and then the metal extended. It had been a rock the size of a grapefruit, but now it extended, growing long and slender. Kelvich was in awe of Zollin’s power. He was playing with the iron ore as if it were clay. He molded it into different shapes: first a short, two edged sword like his father’s, then a longer sword, slightly curved, a cavalry saber. Then the sword pulled back and separated into two long daggers with blades that tapered down into a point. Then they settled back down onto the wooden table.
“What do you think?” Zollin said, as the bright flames of power settled down into glowing embers that he could control.
“Excellent,” said Kelvich. “That was better than I had hoped for.”
“What had you hoped for?” Zollin asked.
“I had expected that you could separate the impurities and perhaps fashion a crude weapon, but the way you molded the steel was a sight to behold.”
“Good, we can eat then,” said Zollin, his appetite returning.
“First, tell me how you feel,” Kelvich said. He had the feeling that Zollin was hiding himself from the sorcerer somehow.
“I feel hungry,” Zollin said, smiling. “Why?”
Kelvich didn’t answer right away. He was pondering the situation. Was it possible that Zollin could hide his power from the sorcerer; that he could somehow keep Kelvich from accessing his magic? If so, was it possible that he could vanish completely from the inner sight that other magic users shared? It was something he wanted to ponder.
“Just wondering, I’ve never taught anyone as powerful as you,” Kelvich admitted. “It makes me wonder just what you can do.”
“I can do anything,” Zollin said, smiling.
“There is more than power, Zollin. You need knowledge, you need strategy.”
“I don’t need anything,” the young wizard said smugly.
“Why do you get so angry when you tap into your own power, I wonder?”
“I’m not angry, I’m just certain.”
“Certain of what?”
“Of everything.”
“Come on now, Zollin, you aren’t making sense.”
“Sure I am. My whole life, I’ve lived just below the surface. When I was little, I was passed around from wet nurse to hand maid, because I didn’t have a mother. Quinn took care of my needs, but I was always different. When I went to school, I stayed behind the others. When I went to work, I struggled. I thought I was broken, but I just hadn’t found the right fit. When I discovered magic, I tried to hide it. I wasn’t ashamed, just afraid. My whole life, I’ve been afraid, but not anymore. When the wizards from the Torr came for me, I let others fight my battle. I could have killed them all, but I was afraid. I’m not afraid anymore. I know what I’m capable of and where I fit.”
“Where is that exactly?” Kelvich asked.
“Wherever I choose,” Zollin said with a smile. “The townspeople are scared of me, so what? They can’t do anything about it. If I want to go down there and smash their homes one by one, I’ll do that. And there is nothing they can do about it.”
“You realize you don’t sound like yourself, right?”
“No, I sound like my true self.”
“So, why is it so different than when you aren’t tapping into the power?”
“It isn’t my power that gives me confidence, old man. It’s the connection.”
“What connection?”
“The connection to freedom, to truth,” Zollin said, his eyes flashing.
“What if I said that I think someone is manipulating you?”
“I’d say you’re crazy. No one can touch me.”
“I can take over your power anytime I want,” Kelvich threatened.
He knew he was taking a terrible risk, but if his theory was right, then someone was influencing Zollin whenever he tapped into his magic. It was a magic he was ignorant of, but that wasn’t surprising. He knew enough to know that there was a lot he didn’t know. He wanted to test his theory that Zollin could withdraw his power, and his hope was that it would sever the connection he was having with whoever or whatever was making him so brash and prone to violence. Of course, he was running the risk of making Zollin angry and getting killed—or worse, getting a taste of the boy’s heady power and being unable to let go of it. But if he was right, he knew that he needed to free Zollin from the influence of whoever was trying to control him.
“I’m going to try something,” Kelvich warned. “Why don’t you see if you can stop me?”
Zollin smiled. “Go ahead.”
Kelvich thrust his will onto Zollin suddenly, he didn’t want the boy lashing out and hurting one of them. He felt the power surge into him, so bright and powerful that it was like climbing out of a cave and standing in brilliant sunlight. Then, just as quickly, it was gone. Kelvich felt desperate, as if he were naked without the power. He reached for it mentally, but there was a wall, a strong wall, an insurmountable wall, between him and Zollin’s power. He could still feel the magic, it was dancing and jumping like a bonfire, but it was beyond his reach now. He strained to touch it, but he couldn’t. He pulled back and looked at Zollin. His face was relaxed now, and he seemed happy.
“How do you feel now?” Kelvich asked.
“Fine, a little hungry maybe,” Zollin said.
“I can feel your power, but I can’t touch it,” Kelvich confided. “That’s very good. How are you doing it?”
“It’s hard to say. I’m guarding it, sort of creating distance between it and everything else.”
“You said a minute ago that you could do anything, do you still feel that way?”
“Yeah, I guess. I mean I feel strong, not just magically strong, but strong, confident and happy.”
“What about destroying people?” Kelvich asked. “Do you still feel your desire to destroy the town?”
“No,” said Zollin. “In fact, I’m embarrassed that I actually said that out loud.”
“I need to tell you something, Zollin, something important. Does guarding your magic that way take a lot of effort?”
“No, not really. In fact, I kind of like it.”
“Most people can’t do that. Most wizards aren’t as powerful as you. They make things worse by depending on magical objects to strengthen their abilities, and that ends up making them weaker because they never develop their own true strength. But even powerful
wizards are susceptible to a sorcerer’s control. I’ve never heard of anyone who could block a sorcerer’s efforts the way you’re doing right now. But I think it’s good, because I think you’re being influenced by someone or something when you tap into your magic.”
“Really? How?”
“You know how you said when you first tapped into your power that you felt as if it were evil. Well, I think that feeling was coming from someone else.”
“And how is that possible?” Zollin asked.
Kelvich was pacing, not that there was much room to pace, but his mind was working feverishly.
“When you tap into that power you shine like a bright star. You know how you can feel the magic in other wizards? Well, I think when you unleash your full magical potential, it’s noticeable, even from far away. I think that somewhere, someone is trying to control you.”
Five Kingdoms: Books 01, 02 & 03 Page 35
