by Mike Shelton
“I thought elves were more deliberate in their natures,” muttered Mericus.
Breelyn laughed, and it was as if music filled the room. “We are, usually, though I’m not. Rushing into things headlong got me into trouble many times as a youth.”
Mericus smiled and started to relax.
“Bakari sent me a message,” Breelyn said. “He saved Roland, found another dragon, in Quentis, and is now flying north, to Turg, to find another one there.”
“Is Roland all right?” Alli felt her face redden.
“I’m not sure of all the details.” Breelyn furrowed her light eyebrows. “But someone had impersonated him and had trapped him in a room where his magic couldn’t be used.”
“Someone should take care of that boy.” Alli said, then realized she had spoken the thought out loud. So she tried to change the subject. “So, about the plan?”
Breelyn put her cup on a small side table and began to explain. “Kanzar is sending spies to Orr. When they arrive, the Chief Judge will hide most of his troops. Thinking the city is not fortified well will embolden Kanzar, and he will send his troops there. When he does, you will march from Corwan and come up behind his army—on the plains south of Cassian. The Chief Judge’s troops will then come out, and we will surround Kanzar’s army.”
“That will not stop Kanzar,” Mericus stated. “He cares little for his troops—or anyone, for that matter.” Mericus seemed bitter and a look of disgust spread across his face. “The only way to stop this madness is to kill Kanzar himself.”
“Leave that to the dragon riders,” Breelyn said.
“It’s about time we do something,” Alli answered back. “I will inform the troops and get them ready.” Mericus raised an eyebrow at her, so Alli shot him back a dark look. “I am the most senior battle wizard in the city.” She shrugged.
Then Mericus raised both his eyebrows and laughed. “And a feisty one at that.” Growing more serious, he said, “I appreciate any help you can give us, Breelyn. I will inform the governor of these plans. We will be ready to march soon.”
Breelyn took her leave, and they returned with her to the rooftop. Alli saw that quite a crowd had gathered below, in the streets, and Miriel seemed to be enjoying the attention, roaring and preening in front of them. Alli and Mericus stood next to Breelyn as she mounted the dragon.
“We will meet on the battle field!” Breelyn said as Miriel took off into the air.
* * *
Roland was still recovering from his recent ordeal. The effects of being around the strange magical artifacts still disturbed him. He had called a meeting of all those in the Citadel and had explained what had happened, but the mood was still tense, and no one seemed to trust one another now.
Sitting at his desk, he put his head in his hands. He was more shaken up than he had admitted to anyone. Being locked in that dark, magicless room for days had stretched him beyond his normal limits. His thoughts often became dark, and he would shake his head to try and concentrate on running the Citadel once again. His goal of becoming the most powerful wizard was also set back once he had realized how much magic existed that he knew nothing about. And he couldn’t seem to keep his mind from thinking about all the magical artifacts locked behind the doors in the lower levels.
A knock sounded at his door, bringing Roland out of his musings. In walked one of the administrators. He was an older, serious man with only a few wisps of hair, who did his work quite well. The man approached the desk and cleared his throat.
“A group of wizards from Cassian have arrived at the front gates.” The man’s face was tight and brooked no smile.
Roland jumped up out of his seat. “From Cassian? Have they stated their intentions?”
“They asked to speak with you and are not very happy about being held at the front gates,” the administrator said.
Roland managed a smile. “I bet not.” He wondered who the wizards were and if this was Kanzar’s way of trying to rope him back into his plans. “Show them to the ready room. I will be with them shortly.”
The man bowed, and Roland went through a side door to his own set of rooms. He dug through his clothes for the appropriate attire. Black boots, black pants, with a white shirt and red cape caught his attention. After dressing, he rounded up a contingent of guards to walk with him. After letting the wizards wait for a few more minutes, Roland entered the room, making two of his guards open the double wooden doors in front of him.
Strutting into the room, Roland gazed around at the dark, wooden décor and the golden lamps lighting the room. With a flick of his hands, he turned up the flames on the lamps.
“Greetings, wizards,” he said, bobbing his head to them. One woman and three men; none of them were wizards Roland knew well.
An older man stepped forward. Roland remembered Lyman from his own wizard test. The man was a member of Kanzar’s Council. Bowing his head to Roland, as was befitting of a level three wizard, the man cleared his throat.
“Sir,” Lyman began nervously, looking back at the other three wizards before he continued. “We have come to discuss the…um, current situation.”
Roland called for refreshments to be brought in. “Please be seated,” Roland said, offering the wizards seats in huge, overstuffed chairs.
Before beginning, Roland also called Eryck in to join them. The old wizard had been through a lot, but Roland owed it to him to be a part of these proceedings. Eryck walked around and greeted each of the visiting wizards personally.
Roland watched the four unfamiliar wizards carefully for any sign of deceit or danger. He reached his mind out and felt each one’s power. Three were level three wizards, and one, a level two. All weaker than himself, but together they could possibly overwhelm him. Two were counselor wizards, and two were scholar wizards—battle wizards were still in short supply and, most likely, were being kept close to Kanzar in his bid to take over the kingdom.
Once everyone was settled, Roland began. “What can I do for you?”
“My name is Gavin,” said another one of the men. “We come at the request of Kanzar to look in on things here, at the Citadel, and make sure everything is all right.”
Roland kept a straight face. There was no way they could know about the Chameleon and the havoc that impostor had caused. They were fishing for something.
All businesslike, Roland stood, his cape floating around his body. “We have received new recruits—of those wishing to be made apprentices—every day. Training goes well, and the Citadel is in good hands.”
“There haven’t been any new wizards raised, have there?” asked the woman, her expression not very friendly, and not bothering to state her name.
Roland started to report in the negative, but then he remembered Alli and felt no need to hide what he had done. “I raised Allison Stenos to battle wizard level three.”
All four let out gasps.
Gavin stood up and waved his hands around. “You do not have authority to do that, young man. You are barely a wizard yourself. And, if I remember correctly, she is only a young girl.”
Roland moved forward two steps in quick succession to stand in front of Gavin. He must show his authority now, or they would never let him be.
“The highest ranking wizard at the Citadel has the right to raise an apprentice,” Roland said. “That is in Citadel law. Eryck was there and can confirm it was all held according to our laws.”
Eryck nodded his head but didn’t speak.
Eryck had helped to free Roland, but he was still a rather timid wizard, even more so now, it seemed, with these other wizards in the room.
“And that young girl could run circles around all of you—at the same time.” Roland thought of Alli, remembering how he became mesmerized each time he saw her fight or train as she created a deadly dance that flowed from one position to another with such accuracy and grace that it almost made him jealous. And he wouldn’t mind a nice peck from those pouty lips of hers.
“What are your intentions
here, young man?” the woman asked, pulling Roland out of his thoughts.
“And what is your name, wizard?” Roland asked. “I have not met you before, but I take it you were trained as a counselor wizard like myself.”
The woman tightened her lips. “My name is Rosilyn. I trained here many years before you were even born.”
Roland was getting tired of being treated like a youngster. And so he turned the question back on the group of wizards. “What are your intentions? And, what does Kanzar want?” he demanded, his voice roaring with power.
The visiting wizards stood up, and Roland’s guards moved behind him, their leader. Power crackled in the room. Lyman brought his hand out to gather his power.
One hand in his pocket, Roland moved his fingers over a small cube he had taken from the room below the Citadel. He then moved his hand next to it as he felt something else. It was a small cylinder. He didn’t remember taking this with him from the room. He wondered what it was. The room had been full of powerful objects.
Running his fingers around the edge of the metal, he tried to sense what it was. His fingers sizzled with its power. Wrapping his hand around it, he tried to push his power into it. For a brief moment, nothing happened.
“Roland!” he heard Eryck yell.
Roland felt invincible. He brought his hands out, one hand holding on to the cylinder. They had threatened his power and authority. Now they would learn what he could do. A sweet, dark power filled him. The power wanted to protect him from these wizards, who would try to take his place in the Citadel. They didn’t trust him and only wanted his power for themselves.
Take them down! a voice rumbled inside Roland’s head.
He raised his hands out in front of him, a black snaking smoke rising from the cylinder, winding its way around up his arm and around his red cape, growing bigger and darker. It filled his mind with heady thoughts of power and destruction.
The blackness gathered around his hands, and crackles of lightning came through his fingers. All four visiting wizards drew on their powers and stood ready to attack him.
Attack them before they attack you. They want to steal your power, the voice said more clearly to Roland. They want what you have. They are Kanzar’s men.
Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Eryck, in all his frailty, trying to stop him.
“Roland, let go,” Eryck said. “This isn’t you.”
Not me? Roland’s eyes filled with darkness and then, with only a blink, sent a tendril of black smoke toward the old wizard.
Somehow, a brief thought deep in his mind made him think of the room he had been sealed up in, and fear gripped his heart once again. He remembered Bakari saving him. And he thought of Alli and her ability to so precisely control her powers. Then he thought of Onius and his teachings. Finally, he thought of the Chameleon and then heard a cackle of laughter rip through his mind.
So weak…so weak…and pathetic.
Roland clenched his fist and brought the tendrils of smoke back into his hand as Eryck fell back onto his chair. Turning to the remaining wizards, Roland gritted his teeth and fought for control.
“Stand down,” Roland ordered the wizards. “Pull your magic back.”
Gavin looked at the other wizards, fear evident in their eyes.
“Now!” Roland roared, and the power in his voice spoke deep into the wizards’ souls and brooked no disagreement. As their powers receded, Roland continued to fight for control of his own.
He pushed the Chameleon out of his mind and thought about his own magic. He had bested Kanzar and his cronies in the wizard test, and he now controlled the Citadel, the magical seat of power in Alaris. He realized then that he was more powerful than the evil trying to permeate him.
“I…am…magic.”
Roland finally dropped the cylinder from his hand back into his pocket, and the blackness receded instantly. It was all Roland could do to remain standing, but stand he did. Feeling determined, his own power crackling around him, Roland faced the four wizards.
“You now see what I can do,” he said through gritted teeth. His head pounded, and he was on the verge of collapse. “Why are you here?” he roared, his voice shaking the windows of the room.
The visiting wizard’s faces looked haggard, as if they had aged ten years in those two minutes. Lyman was the first to speak. “We are here to help take down High Wizard Kanzar Centari. He must be stopped.”
Roland let go of his power, and he slumped back into his chair. “Why didn’t you say so at the first?” He tried to smile, but it came out more like a sneer. “That would have prevented quite a bit of trouble.”
All four bowed their heads in apology and sat back down. Nothing was said for a few minutes while everyone collected their thoughts.
Roland wondered, briefly, how the evil cylinder got in his pocket, but he realized it must have been from the Chameleon. The man was powerful. Roland would need to put more guards on his room, but obviously the Chameleon had found an artifact that projected his thoughts beyond the barriers of that room. That could mean trouble for all of them.
Roland called for the servants to bring in more drink. After a few sips, to calm his nerves, he resumed the conversation.
“I have been trying to stay neutral in this conflict over Alaris,” Roland began, “but I see now I won’t be able to enjoy any peace at the Citadel until it is resolved.”
“Onius hoped you would say that.” Gavin smiled for the first time. “You are a very dangerous man, Roland Tyre. I hope his confidence in you is not misplaced.”
Roland felt better after a few bites of food. His head cleared, and his strength returned. “So, the old counselor is behind this after all. The sly fox.”
“Kanzar is out of control and must be stopped,” said Rosilyn. “He is obsessed with power and doesn’t care who stands in his way.”
“So, control of Alaris goes back to the Chief Judge?” Roland asked.
“Not exactly,” Gavin said.
“I won’t fight the Chief Judge, if that is your plan.” Roland felt a strange sense of loyalty to that man. Roland had always looked upon Daymian as weak and boring. But, in trying to run the Citadel, Roland had realized the skills and abilities the Chief Judge must have possessed to run all of Alaris. Daymian was a good man and, whether he ended up leading Alaris or not, Roland would do what he could to ensure Daymian’s safety.
“Very well. Then you should come with us,” a wizard said.
Roland nodded his head. “Yes, I guess I must.” Turning to Eryck, Roland saw that the old man was looking better already. “Eryck, ready the advanced apprentices; we march in two days.”
“Sir?” asked Lyman. “The apprentices?”
Roland grinned. “You don’t think I’m going down into that mess—of men vying for power—without my own army, do you?”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Bakari and Kharlia soared high in the air on the back of Abylar. After staying in Westridge for two nights, due to a harsh storm, they now flew farther north, into North Solshi, to avoid any other delays. They didn’t bother to hide themselves now, as time was a more important factor than stealth. As they neared the mountains on the border of Turg, they settled down for the night.
Abylar, can you go and search the mountains for us? Bakari asked his dragon. The egg must be close.
I will pick up a few extra animals to eat on my way. Abylar snorted a puff of smoke out of his large nostrils.
Bakari rolled his eyes at the dragon. He had never thought of animals as having senses of humor. He said as much to Abylar.
I am not an animal. Abylar flapped his wings twice and rose up into the crisp mountain air. I am a dragon. With that, he flew off, leaving Bakari alone with Kharlia.
They sat down against a tree, shoulders touching and fingers intertwined.
“Quite a dragon you have there, Dragon Rider.” The campfire reflected orange in Kharlia’s eyes.
Bakari chuckled. “Remember sitting agai
nst that tree after leaving Forest View, before the bandits attacked us?”
“Yes, Bak,” Kharlia said. “Seems like so long ago.”
“I still can’t believe it.”
“Believe what? That you are a dragon rider?”
“All of it,” Bakari said. “I’m only a weak scholar wizard. How did all this happen?”
Kharlia’s eyes flashed as she turned her head. Her lips only inches away from Bakari’s. “You are a mighty wizard, Bakari.”
“I don’t think you understand how wizard power works, Kharlia. I am a level two wizard. Yes, I have a great memory. But, in terms of sheer power, many apprentices are more powerful than I am. Look at Roland and Alli. They both passed me right up.” Bakari looked at her lips, so smooth and inviting. He had relished every touch from them.
Kharlia’s face flushed, and her breathing quickened. “A weak wizard you may be, Bak.” Her breath was soft and husky. “But you are my wizard.”
Bakari grinned, his heart full of joy.
He felt Abylar through the bond, but he was miles away now, roaming over the mountain peaks in search of the next egg. So Bakari leaned his head down and gently pressed his lips against hers. Fire seemed to fill his soul as she let out a soft sigh. Then she kissed him back, hungrily, and Bakari felt distant laughter from Abylar. Pushing the dragon farther from his mind, Bakari kissed Kharlia back with similar feelings.
After a few minutes, they pulled back from each other, and Kharlia laid her head on Bakari’s shoulder. Within minutes, they both slipped off into a restful sleep.
Early in the morning, Abylar flew back down into their camp.
I have found two groups of people, Dragon Rider, and one includes Kolo.
That thought woke Bakari at once. He nudged Kharlia and told her about Kolo.
“He is searching for the dragon egg?” Kharlia asked.
Where are they? Bakari asked Abylar.
Both groups are heading toward the same spot, Abylar said, lowering his body to the ground next to them. The dragon egg is located between them.
