“Surely not. How could she?” The acolyte gazed at Sulrad as if disbelieving his words.
“Certainly. She left the day after I first raised fire. My father left soon after.” Sulrad flinched at the lie. His father had not left. His father had thrown him out, and Sulrad had punished him for it. He had acted rashly. He knew that, but it was too late to change his actions. He pushed the guilt away, for the lie as much for killing his own father.
“I did not know,” the acolyte said. “They do not teach that in the classes.”
“It’s not something I share with just anyone.”
“I’m honored, Father.” The acolyte set the tray on the dresser beside the bed, poured a cup of tea, and stepped back, hands folded before her, eyes turned toward her feet.
“Do you like it here?” Sulrad asked.
“I do, Father.”
“What do you like the best?”
“They are teaching me to heal. I like that. I want to help people. I want to make things better.”
“And what have you learned so far?” Sulrad asked.
Before the girl could answer, Kelnor burst through the open door. He was panting as if he had run half a league to get here.
“Good to see you’re awake,” he said. “I found something that you will want to see.”
42
Sulrad thanked the acolyte and followed Kelnor. His oldest friend, at times, could be most frustrating. The rotund wizard hired a coach and asked the driver to take them out into the empty lands far from the city center. Questioning Kelnor had done little to produce an explanation. When they reached a rocky outcropping, Kelnor asked the coachman to stop and wait. He led Sulrad into a narrow canyon, then stomped his foot. Dust rose and settled around him. “Here,” Kelnor said. “This is the place.”
“What place?”
“The place where you will recapture the dragon.”
Sulrad looked around. There was nothing special about this place. It was just a rocky canyon. Yet it felt familiar, like the place he had captured his first dragon, but this place made the hair on his arms tingle.
“You don’t feel it, do you?” Kelnor asked.
“Feel what?”
“The magic. The earth magic. This place was once a focus, a place where the raw magic spouted from the earth. It’s dry now because of what the dragons did, but I found a small stream I could divert back to its original path. Search for it. You will see. It amplifies the magic you already possess.”
Sulrad let his magical senses roam.
Rocks.
Sand.
Scrub cactus.
A lizard hiding beneath a rock.
He plunged his imagination into the ground at his feet. Far below, a silver pool rested on the deep bedrock. It was like water beneath the earth. If he dug a well, could he drop a bucket down and draw it up? Was that what Kelnor meant? Was there a way to tap into that?
He reached for the silver magic.
It was cold.
Strange.
He’d expected it to be hot. The magic in Rohir had been hot.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Kelnor bounced up and down with excitement.
“It’s cold.”
“Yes, the earth magic is cold.”
“But, in Rohir, it was hot.”
“That was fire magic.” Kelnor waved his hand in the air. “I know it was water, but the magic was not born of water. It was born of fire — deep within the earth. Water merely carried it to the surface. This…” he stopped his foot once more, “is earth magic. It’s much more common than air, water, or fire magic. It’s all around us. It’s weak, but earth magic is what we as wizards absorb in our bodies. It should be easier to control than the fire magic. Give it a try.”
Sulrad pondered what sort of spell he should try. Fire? That was rather pedestrian. But why not? Fire was an ancient spell, one of the first discovered, if the histories could be trusted.
“Incendio ignius.” Sulrad spoke the words he’d use so often to call fire. In his mind, he pictured a flame no larger than a candle would produce. It was more about the substance than the size.
He stretched out his hand, palm up.
A tiny flame appeared, dancing above his palm.
Nothing special.
“Connect with the earth. Draw the magic forth.” Kelnor interrupted his thoughts.
Sulrad reached for the magic deep beneath him. It lay there, a silver fluid in a rocky pool. He extended the ghost hand he used for healing into the silver liquid and drew forth the smallest thread of it.
It resisted, as if it wanted to remain where it was.
He pinched a thread between his finger and thumb and rolled until it was barely larger than a hair.
The silver fluid became rigid.
He pulled at the thread.
It followed along, a fine spindle of spider silk rising from the pool of silver below. It stretched up and into his hand then along his fingers to feed the flame.
“Now. Back away and release the spell,” Kelnor explained.
Sulrad dropped his hand. He released the silver thread and called his own magic back to himself.
The flame floated in the air before him.
He stepped back.
The flame remained.
He searched his magic. It was intact. None of his magic was feeding the flame. How could that be? He was accustomed to such a spell. The flame only persisted so long as he fed magic into it. That was the limiting factor of what a wizard could accomplish. If he let the flame run long enough, or increased the size, his personal store of magic would become exhausted and the flame would extinguish itself. How then was this flame able to remain stable?
He reached out once more with his senses.
The tiny thread of magic was feeding the spell. The earth magic was sustaining the fire.
“You see it now, don’t you?” Kelnor asked.
“The magic is self-sustaining.”
“For a while. Keep watching.”
As Sulrad watched, the flame began to flicker. The thread that fed magic into it grew more and more tenuous until, with a pop, the flame vanished.
“What was that?” he asked.
“The earth magic is still here. The great spell that diverted it is no longer active. I have been able to subvert it for a hand of heartbeats only. I am able to perform such a feat, if infrequently.”
“How infrequently?”
“Once every three to four days.” Kelnor shrugged.
“What use is something that lasts only a hand of heartbeats and then cannot be used again for days?”
“I have a plan for such a place as this. It can be used to drive large spells, if only for a while, or it can charge up the crystals such as you have in the temple or that you find in a wizard’s staff. The magic will remain, even after the stream has been diverted once more. You could charge the charm here, or the spell boxes I have created.”
“And what will you do with these spell boxes?”
“Nothing. It is you who will use them. Use them to summon a dragon and bind it to your will. It will take a few days to create the plate that drives the spell. While I am doing that, the crystals can charge here. When everything is ready, you can summon the dragon.”
Sulrad sat quietly during the ride back to the temple. Kelnor was so excited, but was he correct? Should he summon a dragon and bind it to him once again? He had made an attack on Amedon. He was thinking that he might have been rash in so doing. The wizards of Amedon had tried to keep him from discovering the secrets of the dragons, but they had not attacked him directly. They had not sent a wizard to kill him.
Was he rash in attempting to punish them for stealing the magic from the world? Was it his place to do something about it? Was he committing the sin of pride? Was this what Ran wanted? If it was, then why had the dragon abandoned him? Why was he unable to maintain control? If Ran truly wished this, then why was it so difficult?
“You look pensive.” Ignal interrupted this thought.
He hadn’t even heard her enter his chambers.
“I’m torn.”
“You look fine to me,” she said.
“Was I right to attack Amedon? Am I right in seeking revenge on behalf of all people for what was done?” He carefully avoided mentioning the part the dwarves had played. “It is truly my place?”
“We have lived with this burden for so long, it has become a part of who we are. Would I love to see this horror reversed?” She paused. “I would. Would it truly change anything?” Again a pause. “No. It is so deeply ingrained in who we are and what we believe, that it will not change a thing. It’s too late to save us, and I’m not certain that restoring magic to the whole land is the proper thing either.”
She settled onto the bed beside him. “If everyone has some small measure of magic, it will become common. Like dirt, or spit. No one will be in awe of a truly great wizard. They will see it as just more of something everyone possesses. They will disrespect what you bring. They will disrespect Ran.”
She shifted her weight. “How then will we gain converts? How then will we bring enlightenment to the land? What will become of the temple and the staff when every washer woman and kineheard can wield magic and perform simple healing?”
“I suppose it will make it more difficult, but it’s wrong. What they did.”
“Many things happen that are wrong. Does Ran expect you to intervene in every situation that is unfair? Has he called you to stop the angry laborer who takes his frustration out on his bondmate? Is that what Ran expects of you? Or does he allow such things to transpire so that you can show his mercy in the aftermath of such a horrid situation? Is this not the same? He has allowed this to happen. Perhaps, in its own time, this will ultimately prove for the betterment of his cause. See how the temple grows in influence. Would you take that away, just to restore magic to the commoners who press you repeatedly for healing? What will they do with such power? Squander it?”
“If Ran truly wishes it, who am I to say no?”
“Does he?” she asked. “If Ran truly wished it, why then has it been fraught with so much difficulty? You think I don’t notice, but I do. You yourself have these doubts. Perhaps it is because you have taken the wrong path and Ran is ever so gently guiding you back. Have you considered that?”
“I have considered little else. I may have been wrong to undertake such a thing. Perhaps you are right.”
Sulrad rose and straightened his robe. Ignal always provided him with perspective. He should listen to her more often. Let Amedon do as they wished. They had tried to stop him, and that had only incensed him to fight back. Perhaps that was their plan. Rile him up and get him to do something foolish so they could continue to thwart his plans for the temple. They feared Ran. They feared the temple. They feared him. And he let them divert him from expanding the temple. That was his mistake. No more. He would recommit himself to Ran. To the temple.
Before he could take a step, the door burst open.
Kelnor stood in the doorway, breathing hard.
“What is it?” Sulrad asked.
“The wizards in Amedon.” Kelnor panted, out of breath. “They have sent an assassin to kill you.”
43
Sulrad watched as Kelnor worked with his apparatus. Attacking Amedon had triggered an all-out war that would only end when Amedon was completely destroyed. He should have known that. With Kelnor’s apparatus, he could wield much more power than any of the wizards who sought to harm him. He didn’t like it, but he would do what was necessary.
“Tell me precisely what you did.” Sulrad nudged one of the tiny boxes Kelnor had gathered from around the temple. “And if these are responsible for creating the spell, why have you removed them?” The box was one of a dozen Kelnor had placed around the temple. They were identical. A hands-width on each side, the box contained gears and springs to drive a pin along a pre-defined path. Kelnor had placed a graven plate on the box that guided the pin when the spring was released. The tip of the pin carried a tiny crystal.
“They created the spell, but they are not needed to maintain it. Do you need to remain with someone you healed for the rest of your life, or do you perform the spell and leave?”
“I leave.” Sulrad examined the plate that Kelnor indicated created the spell. The track within the plate was familiar-looking, but he couldn’t decide what it meant.
Kelnor took the plate from him and jabbed a finger at it. “This represents the hand motions that accompany the casting of a spell of renewal combined with a spell of capture.”
He traced a finger along the path and the magic rose up.
“I see it now,” Sulrad said. “But I don’t see how this will help.”
Kelnor tossed the plate onto the table. “This won’t, but I am almost finished with one that will.” He took a plate from a small stack that sat at one corner of the table. “This one will summon and bind a dragon.”
Sulrad gazed at the lines drawn on the wood. It had yet to be carved, but the lines felt familiar. As he gazed at them, he imagined himself tracing this same path in the air with his hands. As he did, he felt the same feeling he did when he summoned the dragons. This was a powerful spell, but just what did Kelnor have in mind?
“I’ve seen this one before. Where did you find it?” Sulrad asked.
“In one of the scrolls you keep in your study. The ancient one that speaks of how to summon a dragon and bind it to your will.”
Sulrad drew a breath. How dare he? Kelnor had invaded his private study and taken valuable scrolls from his desk.
“I know. Your study. Your scrolls. If I meant harm, would I have created these? Think about it before you get angry.”
Sulrad paused. The rotund wizard was right. The time for secrecy was over. Having an ally like Kelnor was a good thing. Sulrad himself would never have dreamed up such a thing.
“How does it work? Show me.”
“Not yet. But I’ll explain.”
As Kelnor detailed how he planned to charge the crystals from the earth magic and how the spells would be created, Sulrad realized that he might be able to control the entire clan of dragons, not just the three that Skelek had been able to. Did that mean that the self-effacing Kelnor was a greater wizard than even Skelek had been, or was it simply that he had access to knowledge that Skelek had not? Whatever the reason, Sulrad was grateful for Kelnor’s aid.
“When will it be ready?” Sulrad asked.
“Tomorrow. I just have to carve out the path and smooth it so the pin won’t jam, and we’re ready.”
“And then?”
“Then we go get some dragons.”
“How many?” Sulrad asked.
Kelnor shrugged.
“Skelek never managed more than three under his direct control,” Sulrad said. “There are texts that imply controlling that many dragons will allow me to influence the entire clan.”
“You should be able to do the same, then, maybe even more. It’s up to you. Your magic drives the dragons, not the magic of the apparatus. The devices simply call the dragons and open them to your control. You command them. You and the charm.”
“We best be getting back, then.” He shuddered at the thought of a long sea voyage, or consuming his entire personal store of magic to travel through the void.
“We’re not going back. Not to Ryden. What’s the point in summoning dragons if you can’t summon them to wherever you are? We’re going to summon them here.”
Kelnor reached for a knife and began carving the plate he held. “I’ll be ready in the morning.” He glanced up at Sulrad. “Will you?”
Sulrad rose the next morning before sunup. The air was crisp and clear after the evening rain. As he washed himself and shaved away the stubble that had grown overnight, he reached for his magic. His personal stores had filled to capacity while he slept. It seemed that since his experience in Rohir, he had been absorbing magic almost as quickly as he consumed it. Did that mean he would be able to handle more powerful spells on his own witho
ut the charm? He longed to try it out, but feared what might happen should he empty his personal stores. Better not to attempt anything like that unless there was a great need.
The acolyte from the previous day had brought him his morning meal almost as soon as he rose. Was she stationed outside his door to listen for him to stir? That was something Ignal would have instituted no matter the burden it placed on the staff. She believed that suffering for one’s belief was the way to show piety.
“Have you truly seen a dragon?” Darida asked as she poured his tea.
“I have.”
“Are they as majestic as everyone says?”
“They are.”
“How do you think Ran sees the dragons? Are they like us? Do they serve him? Are they going to be joining the temple?”
“I doubt very much they will be joining the temple. The dragons are portrayed as the saviors of mankind, but we know that’s not true. Ran is the source of all good. The dragons, in ancient times, worked against Ran’s great plan. They stole magic from the common folk and reserved it for the select few that were fortunate enough to be born with the facility to handle the raw magic. They don’t acknowledge Ran. They have destroyed the common man. For this, they must pay.”
“Forgive me, Father. It was an inappropriate question.” Darida bowed and backed toward the door.
“It was not inappropriate. It was simple curiosity. But what it tells me is that I have not done my part in making this knowledge clear. I’ve written down so much about Ran and his plans for his people, but in this I am remiss. I had not written about the dragons. I see that from your question. You have been a great help in bringing that to my attention.”
Darida blushed. “Father. You honor me.”
“You deserve it. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”
“I live only to serve.” Darida bowed and backed out the door, closing it softly behind her.
Sulrad sipped his tea and pondered his approach. The people needed to know what he had learned. The girl had been correct to ask. He had been remiss in his writing lately. He had considered his newfound knowledge a secret to be kept to himself, but Kelnor had shown him that knowledge shared could become a burden shared. He picked up a piece of parchment and began to write.
Dragon Lord: An Epic Fantasy Saga (Origins Book 2) Page 27
