by M. L. Forman
Alex started to laugh as the cold slipped away. He felt his strength return to him in a dazzling rush that almost took his breath away. The answer was so simple, so obvious, and so clever that he had never considered it. Standing up, Alex moved to the stone that had once been the magic bag of Sedric Valenteen. Alex felt sorry for Val, but he knew that Val had made his own choice, and now he had to suffer the consequences of that choice.
Lifting his hands and pulling all of his magic to him, Alex closed his eyes. A cool breeze blew across his face once more, and when he opened his eyes, the stone was gone. Worry slipped away; Alex was certain that no one would ever be able to change the cool breeze back into a stone or a magic bag. He had won in the end, and the shadow didn’t even know it. Someday the shadow would return here to claim its prize and find nothing at all.
Tired, but pleased with his success, Alex looked around at the room full of treasure. If Val had an heir, all of this belonged to them. He would take it and hope to return it to Val’s family sometime in the future. He took his magic bag and spoke into it. The air seemed to ripple and spark once more, and the treasure disappeared with a flash.
Alex moved back to the stairway as fast as he could, not wanting to waste another moment. He ran up the two flights of stairs, his legs burning with the effort. When he reached the main chamber, he paused for a moment. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he thought it couldn’t be more than an hour. With only a moment of thought, he went to the stairway that led higher into the tower. He wanted to find the upper library and the Horn of Moran, if it was there.
At the top of the stairway was a door, which Alex opened to see another large chamber full of treasure. Ignoring the treasure, he continued forward toward another stairway at the far end of the chamber. He knew where it would lead him.
At the top of the second set of stairs, Alex found himself in the upper library of the Tower of the Moon, surrounded by shelves, tables, and thousands of books. He quickly reached for his magic bag, holding it out toward the center of the room.
“Treasure room,” Alex said loudly.
With a sound like rushing wind, the entire library disappeared into his bag. Only one thing remained, and it was something Alex had not noticed when he’d first entered the room. He moved closer, looking at the strange object in wonder.
Against the back wall a single stone table remained and hovering just above the tabletop was a bright silver flame. The flames moved like a living thing, but Alex didn’t feel any heat coming from them. For a few minutes he stood looking at the flames, and a strange desire to reach out and touch the silver fire filled his mind.
“Take it,” a voice whispered to him. “Take the power and become the master.”
Before he knew what he was doing, Alex reached out his hand toward the flame. Alarm bells rang wildly inside his head, warning him to stop, but his hand continued to move forward.
“A wizard born in Norsland must come,” another voice yelled inside his head. “Only a wizard born in Norsland can take this power.”
Alex’s hand stopped moving, his fingers slowly curling into a fist. Cara had told him about the legend of the tower, about a wizard who would come to save his people. Alex knew he could touch the flame and become the master of all the magic in Norsland, but then the legend would fail. Worse, if he took the power, he would have to remain as the guardian of the tower for as long as he lived.
“No,” Alex said softly. “This is not for me. Another will come to guard this power.”
“Wise. Very wise,” a deep voice answered.
Alex spun around at the sound of the voice.
A ghostly image of a man moved across the empty room, stopping a few feet from Alex. “I am sorry you had to be tested like that,” he said. “All who enter the tower must face the test of the flame, but you are the first to ever pass the test.”
“Who are you?”
“I am Garson,” the ghost answered. “I was the last guardian of the tower. Now I wait to pass on the knowledge I have and the secrets I have kept to the new guardian.”
“I am Alexander Taylor,” Alex said.
“You are a wizard and an adventurer.” Garson nodded. “You have come here looking for the Horn of Moran. Yes, I know. I can see your power, and I am glad you have come. The Horn is with the treasure of the tower, but it does not belong here. It must be returned to Alusia.”
“Yes,” said Alex. “The Horn is needed to prove the true king of Athanor.”
“Oh, it will do much more than that,” said Garson. “The Horn is one of three guardian objects that bind the people of Alusia together. It is the simplest of the three, and the only one that could be taken from the land. But simple or not, it is part of Alusia, and it must be returned. It has only been here for a short time, but already Alusia is breaking apart. The Horn will help unite the people once more.”
“If the Horn is so important, why was the prince allowed to take it from Alusia? Why bring it here?”
“The people have forgotten what the Horn is,” Garson answered sadly.
“What happened to the prince?” Alex questioned. “And to the adventurers who were with him?”
“The men who came here with the Horn were adventurers, but not wizards. They felt the same desire you did to touch the flame, but they were not wise enough to see that the power was not free for the taking. They failed the test and were destroyed. I am sorry that it happened, but I could not stop it.”
“I have destroyed the lower library of the tower,” Alex said after a moment of silence. “I have taken the upper library and put it in my bag. I will not restore the lower library, but I should leave the upper library here.”
“The tower is more than libraries and treasure,” Garson replied with a wave of his ghostly hand. “Libraries can be replaced. Take what you have won and learn from it. Take the treasure in the room below as a reward; the Horn you seek is with the treasure. I ask only that you leave some token of yourself behind to mark you as a friend of the tower. Perhaps someday you will return, and if you are a friend of the tower, the guardians will allow you free access.”
“Thank you,” said Alex. “I am sorry I cannot stay. The guardians gave me three hours to destroy the evil that came here, and that time is running out.”
“You have other reasons to hurry,” said Garson. “There is a storm brewing. Winter is closing in; I do not think you will be able to outrun it.”
“We can’t wait for winter to pass,” Alex said in a worried tone. “We have to get back to Alusia before the spring festival or else there will be war.”
“The storms that are coming cannot be stopped,” Garson answered slowly. “As I am now, I have little power in this land, and even less in others. I can, however, see some of what the future holds. I see that your friends have been touched by a curse. You will be stopped by winter, but not for as long as you fear. You will be able to move south much sooner than you might expect.”
“That is something,” said Alex, thinking of the ghost’s words.
“Little things often make the biggest difference,” Garson said softly as his image started to fade. “You should go. Move as quickly as you can, young wizard. Time is running out.”
The ghost vanished before Alex could reply. Without waiting, Alex hurried back down the stairs to the chamber full of treasure. He knew the Horn was here, somewhere, but Garson was right, he didn’t have time to look for it.
“Treasure room, separate,” said Alex, hoping the bag would understand what he wanted it to do.
Once again there was the sound of rushing wind as the air rippled and sparked. When the chamber was emptied, Alex shifted his bag to his shoulder. He took a single gold coin from his moneybag. With a little effort, he changed the appearance of the coin in his hand. Tossing the coin toward the center of the empty treasure room, he caught it with magic before it hit the floor. The gold coin flashed as it spun in midair, held by a magical thread.
With a bit of pride, Alex looked
at the token he had created that marked him as a friend of the tower. One side of the coin held the image of a dragon’s head with eight stars around it, while the other side had the image of Moon Slayer on it. Alex knew that the coin would remain where it was until the next keeper of the tower came to claim the power of Norsland. And he knew from his dreams that he would also return when that time came.
Running out of the tower, Alex started down the path to the second gate and his friends. The sun was coming up, and in the dim morning light, he saw Sindar arguing with the griffins, demanding that they let him pass and allow him access to the tower.
“It’s all right,” called Alex. “The evil has gone.”
Bowing, the griffins moved aside without speaking to let Alex pass between them. Then they moved back to block the path to the tower.
“How are you, Sindar?”
“Better now that I see you, my friend,” Sindar answered.
“And the others?”
Sindar hesitated. “I don’t know what’s wrong with them. They seem to be stunned, but otherwise unhurt. When I ask them to stand or move, they do as I bid, but they don’t seem to see what is around them. And they cannot speak at all.”
“You seem to have recovered,” said Alex. “Though I was worried when I first found you.”
“Evil has less effect on me than on others,” said Sindar. “And I was lucky you were able to recover my pendant for me. It has taken most of the time that you’ve been gone for me to recover, and I still feel a deep coldness inside.”
“It will pass,” said Alex.
Alex and Sindar returned to their campsite and tried once more to revive their companions, but nothing seemed to work. Alex didn’t know any spell that could reverse the curse, and he was tired. Changing Val’s magic bag into a stone had drained him, and changing the stone into a breeze had taken even more out of him, far more than all his running up and down the tower stairs.
“We need to get out of the mountains,” said Alex, dropping onto his blankets beside the fire.
“Yes, but perhaps first you should rest.”
Alex shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I should send a message to Whalen. He may know how to break this spell.”
“Possibly, but do we have time to wait for a reply?”
“No,” said Alex with a sigh. He rubbed his eyes. “I’ll send a message and then we can break camp.”
“Rest first,” said Sindar softly. “Collect your thoughts and rest your body. You’ve had a long night.”
Alex’s eyes were already closing. He would rest for an hour or two, then send a message to Whalen.
Whalen will know what to do, he thought as he drifted off to sleep. Whalen is a great wizard. He always knows what to do.
When Alex woke, he felt much better. Looking at the sun, he could tell he had been asleep for almost three hours. Sindar was walking around the fire with Andy, but Andy seemed unaware of anything around him.
“Any improvement?” Alex asked.
“No. I thought perhaps moving around would help them, but they seem unchanged.”
“They will be moving around quite a bit soon enough. Let me send a message to Whalen, and then we’ll start back down the mountain.”
Sindar nodded, but said nothing, helping Andy sit back down beside the fire. While Alex wrote his message, he noticed the blank stare on Andy’s face. He hoped that Whalen would have an answer and that the answer would come soon.
Once Alex had sent his message, he and Sindar began leading the others back down the path toward the first gate. Their going was painfully slow because their companions would run into the stone sides of the trail yet continue trying to move forward. After several hours of turning their friends back onto the path, Sindar came up with a clever solution.
Fastening a length of rope to each member of the company, Sindar was able to pull their dazed companions into the correct path as they went along. But even with this improvement, their progress was incredibly slow.
What had been a day’s travel going up the path took them almost three days to travel back down. Alex was beginning to worry that they wouldn’t be off the mountains before the snow began to fall, and he certainly didn’t want to spend the winter stuck on the mountainside.
“From here on it will be more difficult,” said Sindar, dropping to the ground beside Alex. “The path is steep, and there aren’t any rock walls to keep our friends from falling off the edge.”
“I know,” said Alex. “And they don’t seem to be improving at all.” He thought for a moment. “I suppose I could change our friends into mice and carry them down the mountain inside my magic bag.”
“Do you think you could do that?”
“Perhaps, but I’ve never transfigured a human, and I’d hate to accidentally hurt one of our friends.”
“Then don’t think on it,” Sindar advised. “We will manage, somehow.”
Alex simply nodded. What he had said wasn’t entirely true. When Alex had transfigured Val’s magic bag, Val had been inside it at the time. It wasn’t a pleasant thought and he pushed it aside. Transfiguration was a simple solution, but not one he was willing to try on his friends, at least not yet.
“Perhaps we should just put them inside one of our magic bags as they are,” Alex said softly.
“A simple solution to our problem, but there are dangers. We do not know what magic Val used on them, and the magic inside the bag may trigger some greater damage.”
“Yes, I suppose that is possible,” said Alex. “And then there are the rules of honor to consider.”
“Giving another the safety of your bag without his consent is a loss of honor for both the person being protected and the holder of the bag,” said Sindar in a troubled voice. “The rules of honor are there for good reasons, but those reasons hardly apply right now.”
“If things get worse and we can’t get off the mountain, we may have to risk that loss of honor.”
“Not yet. Not if there is another way to save our friends. We will find a way to save them, Alex. I’m sure we will.”
For a long time they sat in silence. Alex felt too tired to sleep or think. He lay back on his blankets and watched the stars above him, letting his thoughts wander freely.
“You have not said what happened in the tower,” Sindar said softly.
“We haven’t had time,” Alex replied. “And I’m not sure I can really explain everything.”
“Rest, Alex. The morning may bring new hope.”
“And a message from Whalen,” Alex added, his mind and body finally succumbing to sleep.
Alex woke to the dinging of a geeb and was glad to find a message from Whalen had indeed arrived. He paid the geeb and tore open the letter, his hopes high that the answer he needed was here.
Dear Alex,
I will not trouble you for details now as I understand the situation you are in. I’m afraid I can’t be of much help to you. There is a spell that might cure your friends, but I cannot write it here, and even if I could, I’m not completely sure you could use it. It is a difficult spell to work and can go very badly wrong if not done correctly.
My best advice to you is to get to the enchanted woods as quickly as you can. You may find help in the woods, if you can reach them before the snows block your way. I believe that time will heal your friends, but winter is coming and you can’t wait.
I am sorry that I cannot be of more help to you at this time. Whatever happens, don’t give up.
Yours in fellowship, Whalen
Alex showed the letter to Sindar before storing it in his bag. He felt a little frustrated that Whalen had the answer but that he could not share it. Now he and Sindar would have to do what they could, and Alex wasn’t at all sure it would be enough.
Chapter Thirteen
Brownies
Alex had managed to defeat the evil shadow, destroy the lower library, and recover the Horn of Moran, but he felt like none of that mattered. They were still trapped on the mountain, and his frien
ds were helpless. For the first time Alex thought their adventure might be a failure, and his mood grew darker as he considered what that failure would mean.
“Come,” said Sindar. “We will do what needs to be done.”
Alex agreed and tried to shake off his dark mood. Both Whalen and Garson had told him not to give up or give in to despair, but Alex felt that this was an almost hopeless situation. If Whalen had been there, he could have cured Bregnest, Halfdan, and Andy, and they could easily get off the mountains. In the end, however, Alex knew there was nothing he could do but carry on. If they were going to get off the mountains before winter set in, it was up to Sindar and himself to get them off.
