Queen of Magic

by Susanne L. Lambdin

  “What do I need to do?” Jaelle asked as she knelt beside the body.

  “Mira helped me restore Harmattan’s body parts. We had to undo what you did earlier today, during your bestial performance, Taliesin. The work took its toll on Mira, and I had to send her to bed; she is a complete wreck. I have never known a goddess to fall apart over a few dead people. Shan Octavio went to comfort the poor girl.”

  “No doubt my father will attempt to seduce the goddess. Mira is quite beautiful,” Jaelle said.

  “What they do is not our concern,” Zarnoc replied. “We are here to revive Harmattan. Tamblyn, be a good lad and go entertain our guests. Play a nice song and make our guests sleep. I have not missed my old friends all that much, and their conversation is limited to questions. I am not in the mood to answer questions. Make them sleep.”

  “Yes, Uncle Zarnoc.”

  “You have brought an unpleasant magical item into my tower, Taliesin,” Zarnoc said. “But you were right to do so. I know the perfect Hellirin to bestow Heggen’s sword on, and someone able to control its nasty temper.”

  “Neither Ringerike or I like that sword. Do with it what you want.”

  “I smell wine on your breath, and on yours, Jaelle.”

  The wizard took one look at Jaelle, noticed she was drunk, and with annoyance, placed her ring hand on Harmattan’s chest. He kept her hand pressed on the body while he started to mumble an unintelligible spell. The Moon Ring turned bright silver and the light spread across Harmattan’s body. Jaelle’s eyes rolled back in her head as she started to repeat the same Lorian words Zarnoc spoke. Taliesin sat in Tamblyn’s vacated chair and tried not to yawn when he started to play his lute. Zarnoc pulled the sheet away from Harmattan’s face as she watched with interest. Scars from Taliesin’s wolf claws had turned a pale purple, like his lips and eyelids, but she noticed his eyebrows had started to twitch.

  “When you’re done,” Taliesin said, “I’m going to Nethalburg to help General Folando. I killed Heggen; I can kill Navenna. We need the Hellirins’ help. Almaric’s advance guard is camped at the base of the mountain. I would also like to know why Lykus is not dead.”

  “I am a bit preoccupied,” Zarnoc said as he kept Jaelle’s hand on the chest of the corpse, who had opened one gray eye. “Have you ever considered the true purpose of the Traveling Tower? No, I can see you have not. Your education in magic is sorely lax, Taliesin. When I find the time to form another magic guild, you will be my first student. Your lack of imagination is shocking. For one with inherent magical gifts, you have no idea what to do with them. None at all.”

  “Zarnoc, I am doing my best. Give me a little credit. Is Harmattan going to be all right? If we’re going to Nethalburg with these Lorians, we need to hurry. I want to return before Ragnal shows up; we are operating on borrowed time.”

  “….lack of imagination, no respect for magic, none whatsoever,” Zarnoc muttered as he placed her raven cloak on the table.

  Taliesin grabbed the cloak, fastened it around her neck, and adjusted it as the wizard lifted his staff into the air. She suspected the wizard meant to show off, for he had a look on his face that suggested he had set a plan in motion. Zarnoc noticed Jaelle reach for a bottle of wine left on the table, and slammed the staff onto the floor.

  “Keep your hands to yourself, Jaelle,” the wizard snapped. “No matter what happens, don’t you dare move or say one word. You’re starting to get on my nerves. The last thing I need is a drunk darkling on my hands. No wine for you.”

  “Sorry,” the gypsy girl muttered.

  Taliesin smiled, but her smile faded when the wizard waved his staff through the air, the door slammed shut, and the tower started to move.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The tower shook, dust fell from the rafters, doors slammed shut in the upper rooms, the fire sputtered and popped, and Taliesin sneezed. The floor felt like it moved beneath her feet, and she grabbed the nearest chair. She glanced at the royal court to see if they had awoken, but not only had Tamblyn put all thirty members to sleep, he also slept through the disturbance, his head on the table. In a matter of seconds, the tower ceased quaking. Taliesin released the chair and gave Zarnoc a look of complete bewilderment as he stood, pipe in hand, puffing on his favorite tobacco.

  “This tower does many things when you use your imagination,” he said. “It does not merely shrink in size to fit in your pocket. You wanted to travel to Wolf’s Den to fetch your Red Cobras, and so you have. Now, go open the door.”

  “What do you mean? We are in Scrydon at Wolf’s Den? If making the tower do what you want is that easy, how did Ragnal ever imprison you and bring you here?”

  The wizard glared at her. “Because I wanted to go to Mt. Helos and bring those needed to defeat the Maeceni with me,” he snapped. “Do what I say for once; you might learn something of value. Ragnal, Navenna, and Broa are not amateurs when it comes to using magic in warfare. Nor was Heggen. The only reason you defeated Heggen is because Mira helped you. When he saw her standing behind you, he lowered his guard long enough for Ringerike to kill him.”

  “I helped.”

  “You will get no praise from me, girl. Open the door.”

  Taliesin jumped when someone knocked on the door, and Tamblyn lifted his head from the table and rubbed his hand across his mouth. She hurried to the door as the knocking grew louder. Not daring to ask Zarnoc what was going on, Taliesin opened the door to find Captain Ramla outside, his fist raised to knock on the door again.

  “Taliesin?”

  “Ramla?” She placed her hand on his arm, thought twice about it, and pulled him into her arms for a bear hug. “I’m so glad you’re still alive. I have been worried sick about you. Please forgive me for leaving you here so long. A great deal has happened since I left, and Almaric is now king.”

  “Did you come to relieve us from duty?” Ramla asked. “It’s proven more daunting than I realized. I have never fought for so many days without rest, constantly hounded by those damnable beasts that neither sleep nor grow tired. However, in the last few hours, the Wolfen have grown quiet; we have not heard one howl, and none have attempted to enter the castle. What has happened?”

  Taliesin peered over the captain’s shoulder and stared at the gloomy fortress of Wolf’s Den. Erindorian and Skardan soldiers stood in a defensive stance outside the tower, and catapults outside the walls lobbed cut trees at the castle. She had arrived to find her friends under attack.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Taliesin asked. “Varg is dead. The curse is broken, and now we are here to take you to Mt. Helos. I’m afraid we have need of you again.”

  “You take the battle to Ragnal then,” the captain said.

  “Bring your men and the Skardans into the tower, Captain Ramla,” the wizard shouted. He walked toward the door, pipe in the corner of his mouth, puffing hard. “No need to bring the horses. Once the Wolf Clan breaks through the gate, they will not harm the animals, though they may use them to ride to Mt. Helos. Well? Why do you stand there, captain? The Wolf Can cannot turn Wolfen. They are mortal men now.”

  “That explains why those we took into custody aged and turned to dust,” Ramla said. “You are Taliesin’s mentor, my Lord?”

  “I am Zarnoc. Now come inside. We have another stop to make.”

  “Do what he says, Captain Ramla,” Taliesin said. “Bring everyone inside. This is a traveling tower, and we’re about to return to Mt. Helos.”

  Ramla stuck two fingers into his mouth, let out a piercing whistle, stepped into the tower, and stared at the slumbering Lorians as he walked past Taliesin. The tower again grew to make room for three hundred Erindorians and Skardans, and one white horse that belonged to Ramla that he refused to leave behind. The Skardans moved to the far side of the tower, away from the table of Lorians. When the last man stepped inside, Taliesin closed the door and met Ramla’s eyes. The tower gave a tumultuous shake that made the fire burst into fierce flames, and the horse sno
rted and pawed at the floor.

  “Hold on,” Zarnoc shouted.

  The tower started to shake, the floor beneath their feet rumbled, the Skardans and Red Cobras shouted in alarm, and Ursus ran to Zarnoc for comfort. The old wizard took the cub in his arms and lifted an eyebrow as cups on the shelves crashed to the floor. A rafter overhead split as the tower landed with a hard jolt and a thud. Taliesin heard shouts outside and many fists pounded on the door. She ran to open it and found Talas Kull, who looked startled to see her.

  A cold breeze blew snow into the tower, and Ramla pushed past Taliesin to stare out the door. He patted Kull on the back, and with a nod, indicated he should enter, and moved aside. Taliesin watched Kull shuffle into the tower, hand on Flamberge.

  “I take it I am not to fight General Folando,” Kull said.

  “No. You are coming with us to Mt. Helos to fight Ragnal,” Taliesin said as the army marched inside. The tower grew yet again to contain the thousands of Skardans; different levels appeared, and the Skardans climbed stairs to them. The men and women in their furs and horned helmets filled every floor, and when the last soldier entered, Taliesin could no longer see the table where the Lorians sat, nor the couch where Harmattan lay with Jaelle at his side, nor Zarnoc. The wizard soon appeared on the stairs, still holding the bear cub, and motioned the crowd to be silent.

  “The gods of Mt. Helos now wage war on Caladonia and Skarda,” Zarnoc shouted. “The Lorians have been defeated by Broa. The Hellirin are under attack by Navenna, while Ragnal gathers the Wolf King’s entire army to bring to Mt. Helos. Varg is dead and the Wolfen curse has ended. However, it does not mean the Wolf Clan is defeated. They are but one of the armies that now fights against us. Together, we may be able to defeat the gods. Talas Kull, your brother, Prince Sertorius, now possesses Calaburn and leads the army I have raised on top of the mountain. He is helped by Grand Master Roland Brisbane of the White Stags and of course, your cousin, Taliesin.”

  “If it means we must fight the gods to protect Skarda, then that is what we will do,” Kull said in a loud voice. He grabbed Taliesin’s arm. “The matter of who sits on the Ebony Throne has not yet been decided. I would prefer Taliesin take the throne instead of my younger brother, but that can be determined after we defeat Ragnal and Almaric. What say the Skardans?”

  “We fight for the Talas,” the warriors shouted.

  Taliesin felt the floor move beneath her feet. The northern warriors and Skardans did not notice the rafters shake or the tower tremble while they continued to cheer, and only she seemed to feel the tower land, presumably back at Mt. Helos. The fire returned to its cheery crackle, and the items on the shelves stilled. Zarnoc waved his hand and the door opened, letting in starlight.

  “We have arrived at Mt. Helos,” Zarnoc called out. “Talas Kull, please show your warriors outside. Prince Sertorius and Grand Master Roland wait for you; there is a battle to plan. Plus, there are far too many people inside this tower for my liking. Move out, all of you, and make ready for battle!”

  Talas Kull walked through the door and his warriors, pushing and shoving chaotically, followed, until only the Red Cobras remained. The Red Cobras, in contrast to the Skardans, marched out in a disciplined line, including Captain Ramla’s horse. A fresh deposit of manure remained where the horse had stood, and the captain looked embarrassed as Zarnoc wrinkled his nose in disgust. Taliesin noticed the Lorians had started to awaken, looking confused and a bit dazed as they stood.

  “Miracle of miracles,” Ramla said, still stunned. “You have liberated us from death and delivered us to the realm of the gods. I know not whether to believe my own eyes. When the old wolves started to die, that was one thing; this is amazing. We truly are at Mt. Helos.”

  “Believe it, Ramla, and welcome,” Taliesin said with a smile.

  Captain Ramla pressed his hand to his forehead. “Almaric is now king,” he groaned. “What news of Duke Fakar? Does my Lord live?”

  “The High Council is no more,” Zarnoc said as he appeared beside them. “Duke Fakar is dead, and Erindor will need a new duke, since the chosen heir is now a swan. See to your men, Ramla. I must speak to Taliesin.”

  “A swan? What do you mean, a swan?” Ramla asked.

  “Time enough to explain later,” the wizard said, not elaborating.

  Taliesin started to say more, but the captain hurried outside and approached Sir Roland, who had arrived with a small patrol that included Prince Sertorius. Captain Ramla shook hands with Sir Roland and bowed before the Draconus prince. She turned to see Tamblyn and Zarnoc speaking with the Lorians around the table. Hugs were exchanged between the Lorians, and many bowed to Tamblyn and Zarnoc, treating both like royalty. Finally, Zarnoc glanced at Taliesin and winked.

  “What would you have us do, Uncle?” Tamblyn asked, taking Ursus from Zarnoc’s arms. The bear licked his face.

  “First, this rabble needs to dust off their wands and get ready to fight Ragnal,” Zarnoc ordered. “Ismeina is in charge of the magical defense of Mt. Helos. I suggest everyone here join her, and, I might add, one hundred more Lorians were found locked in a treasure room, along with your brother, Theodor, and his pet fawn, Breena.”

  “Theodor is here? He is alive?” Tamblyn was shocked. He wiped a tear from his eye and gave Taliesin an appreciative smile. “My brother went missing five years ago on a hunt with his pet fawn. Breena can turn into a robust stag, and his antlers are fierce in battle. I never thought I would see them again.”

  Taliesin had not known Tamblyn had a younger brother. The little deer that had helped her was a magical creature, like Ursus, and now it made sense why Breena had helped her. She felt a slight amount of guilt for not knowing the magic users she locked in the treasure room were Lorian. Now that Korax’s royal court and the Lorians captured at Mt. Helos were free, it seemed Duvalen, once it was retaken from Broa, would have many new additions to the court of King Tamblyn.

  “I am happy for you, Tamblyn,” Taliesin said.

  Zarnoc chuckled. “My friends! Welcome back, “he called out. “I know you have many questions. No more, I imagine, than the others Stroud captured, including my little nephew and his fawn. There will be plenty of time later to get reacquainted. For now, please go with King Tamblyn and take that bear with you before he leaves an offering like the horse!”

  Tamblyn led the Lorians to the door. “Come with me, lords and ladies,” he said. “I will explain everything, and there is much that needs to be done. As for you, Taliesin, be wary in Nethalburg, for I hope to see you again.”

  “I will,” she said, smiling.

  “Lead the way, Your Grace,” a man in dark violet robes said. He carried a staff in his hand with a large white crystal on the end. He waited for Tamblyn to depart and led the rest of the royal court out of the tower.

  “Finally,” Zarnoc groaned. “I do not know whether to pity Tamblyn or congratulate him. I for one never wanted to wear a crown. I could have, you know.”

  The wizard had reverted to the appearance of an old man, which he thought more pleasing than his younger self. Taliesin did not mind if Zarnoc was old or young; she loved him and appreciated everything he did. No matter how much she studied magic, she doubted she would ever be as powerful—or as wise—as Zarnoc.

  “What is going on?” Roland asked as he entered the tower. “Sertorius and Galinn have been reunited. That is a good thing. You have also brought us more than ten thousand soldiers. How did they fit inside this tower?”

  “Close the door and bring the knight with you,” Zarnoc ordered Taliesin.

  With a slight quiver, the tower grew smaller, the cups stilled on the shelves, and the fire’s flames lessened. Zarnoc walked to the couch and pulled the sheet away from Harmattan and Jaelle. The young man blinked his pale eyes and let out a groan. Jaelle let out a scream of delight, pulled Harmattan up, sat beside him, and held his hand as he blinked and worked his jaw.

  “We are preparing for Ragnal’s arrival,” Taliesin said as Roland slid hi
s arm around her. “Harmattan is alive, again. Come see him, dearest; I can explain everything later. Zarnoc, why didn’t you tell me the tower was able to travel from place to place?”

  “Because you never asked. I cannot be expected to tell you everything. The knowledge that does not reside in your head can be found in books. I am a strong believer reading books gives wisdom to the wise and clarity to the addle-brained; though you are neither, you would still benefit from studying, Taliesin. Now, if you two will be quiet, we will see if our patient has his wits about him.”

  Roland walked with Taliesin to the couch, anxious to be close to her. He had washed his face and hands since the battle, but she still smelled the odor of death. Both needed a hot bath, but she doubted that was in their immediate futures. As they passed the table, she noticed it had diminished in size to accommodate six people. A bit of supper might have eased the grumbles in her stomach, but that seemed unlikely, too, for Zarnoc had business on his mind.

  “Harmattan is alive? Is he a darkling?” Roland asked.

  “The Moon Ring restored his life, as it did with Jaelle,” Taliesin said.

  “I think I need a drink.” Roland filled a glass with wine and drank it in one gulp. “All right, Zarnoc. You may continue.”

  “Thank you,” Zarnoc growled as he approached Harmattan. Eerie pale eyes turned upon him, and the young man let out a dead man’s groan. “Stop that and tell me your name, boy.”

  “Harma...ttan.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Three.”

  “Twenty-three,” Jaelle corrected.

  “Try to concentrate, boy. Name your brothers in order of their age. Start with the eldest.”

  “Sir Occo.”

  “Not precise, but that will do. Try to say the name of your other brothers.”

  “Sim-moo and K...K...Ksim.”

  Zarnoc shuddered. “‘Simoon’ and ‘Khamsin’ are their names. Your oldest brother is ‘Sirocco,’” he said, in a gruff voice. “If you are going to Nethalburg, you are going to have to do a little better. I believe I have a Hellirin trinket in a box of goodies that will help restore your memory. Once you’re in Nethalburg, you will be expected to assist Taliesin, Captain Hawk, and Jaelle in convincing General Folando to send reinforcements.”