Wizard Gigantic (Intergalactic Wizard Scout Chronicles Book 9)

by Rodney Hartman

  This time, Glory didn’t ask if he was sure and just headed left. In less than a hundred paces, the tunnel ended. Two broken pickaxes on the floor and a rusty sledgehammer with a cracked handle gave mute testimony as to why the miners had ended their digging. The wall at the end of the tunnel shone bright white in the glow of the light-globes.

  Glory whistled. “Alabaster granite. No wonder they quit digging. That stuff’s hard.”

  “Tell me about it. My seeker instructors told us it’s the hardest rock in existence. They say it was formed at the beginning of time when molten material at the center of the planet combined with pure magic. Only tools made strong by enchantments have a chance against it. The walls of the elves’ city of Silverton are made from the stuff. According to what I’ve read, it took all of the magic of the elves to mine the necessary stones. That was over eighty thousand years ago when they were at the peak of their magic.” He glanced at Glory. “Or so I read.”

  Taking the sledgehammer off her shoulder, Glory shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. We aren’t here to quarry house-size building blocks of the stuff. All we need to do is find a few gems.” She smiled and patted the head of the sledge. “You do the finding, and I’ll do the digging. My father once told me this hammer could beat its way through anything if the arm wielding it was strong enough.” She grinned and raised the sledge in the direction of the alabaster granite. “I think we’re about to find out.”

  Amir wasn’t stupid enough to naysay his bride-to-be. He placed the palm of his right hand on the white stone, expecting it to be warm like the black granite he’d touched earlier. It wasn’t. The white stone was cool to the touch. Concentrating on the portion of the stone underneath his palm, he called to the spirit of the mountain and sent an emotion asking it to share its secrets with him.

  The white rock surrounding his hand grew cooler. A vision that was more shared knowledge than an image appeared in Amir’s mind.

  He smiled. Drawing his hand back, he eyed Glory.

  Glory snorted. “Well, are you going to gawk at me all day? Or are you going to tell me where to find a gem? You’re the seeker, not me.”

  Amir smiled even more. “If gawking means looking at you for long periods of time, then I’d be quite content doing so. As for the location of a gem, I think I’ve found one.”

  A smile spread across Glory’s face. The light-globe attached to her helmet caused her eyes to sparkle. “Already? I told you that you were the best seeker around. Next time maybe you’ll believe me.” She winked. “I swear it was a lucky day for you when we got engaged. Who else could protect you from all the greedy giantesses in the clan?” She laughed. “I had to beat five of them to win your hand at the autumn tournament.”

  Amir returned his fiancée’s smile. “I know. I was there. If memory serves me right, I’d already asked you to be my wife before the tournament ever started.”

  Glory waved her hand dismissively. “A mere detail. Other giantesses would’ve continued to try and break us apart if I hadn’t bested them in battle at the tournament. You’re lucky I’m the best fighter in our clan.”

  Amir tried not to laugh, knowing better than to contradict her. “So you’ve told me. Now, are you going to dig out the gem, or do I have to do both the seeking and the digging?”

  With a laugh, Glory braced her feet and raised her sledgehammer high over her shoulder. “Just point out the spot. I’ll do the rest.” She gave him another wink. “I wouldn’t want you to ruin your reputation by being seen with a weapon in your hands.”

  Amir felt his face growing warm. Hoping she wouldn’t notice his embarrassment, he pointed at a spot on the white stone. “Hit away. I know how much you enjoy beating on things.”

  Glory grinned. “That I do.” With a mighty swing, she brought the head of the hammer down on the exact spot Amir had pointed to.

  Small white splinters of stone shot through the air. Pieces of the razor-sharp rock hit Amir’s hairy chest above his half-buttoned blouse. Although he wore no armor, the edges of the stone splinters were no match for his thick skin. The pieces of stone bounced off, doing no harm. Nevertheless, he stepped back and raised an arm to protect his sensitive eyes.

  It was well he did because Glory followed the first blow with a succession of three more. A few small pieces of the white rock broke off, but not many.

  She lowered the sledgehammer and ran a hand over the stone. “I’ve barely scratched it,” she said.

  “Maybe I—” started Amir.

  The glare from his bride-to-be stopped him short. “Maybe you what?”

  “Uh…nothing. Never mind. You’re doing a great job.”

  Glory spit on her palms and rubbed them together. Taking the sledge in both hands, she braced her left foot against the side wall. With a might swing, she brought the head of the hammer down on the white rock again. The stone cracked, sending off a large shard that hit Amir’s bare legs with enough force to sting.

  “Hey,” he cried. “That hurt. What’s the hurry? Take your time before you damage a gem.”

  Lowering her hammer, Glory smiled affectionately. “I told you to wear your chainmail. Maybe next time you’ll listen to me.”

  “Next time, I’ll stand back farther.”

  Shaking her head, the giantess stepped up to the crack she’d made and rubbed it with her fingers. “Sometimes you’re too sensitive, Amir.” She glanced over at him and winked. “I love you anyway.”

  Taking the sledgehammer in both hands, she raised it for another blow. “I think I’m getting used to Father’s hammer. You have to kinda sweet talk it to release its magic.” She looked over and smiled. “You know, kinda like the way you sweet talk me sometimes to get a kiss.”

  Before Amir could think of a suitable reply, Glory swung a blow at the white stone; then another and another. Ever larger pieces of the white stone cracked off and flew through the air. After a dozen blows, a head-sized piece of the white wall broke off and rolled onto the floor, giving off flashes of green as it went.

  Dropping to one knee, Glory lay down her sledgehammer and rolled the stone over to reveal a green gem the size of her thumbnail. “It’s an emerald,” she said as she pulled a small rock hammer off a hook on her belt. Using the hammer, she chiseled away at the white stone around the gem.

  The hammer might as well have been made of cheese for all the good it did.

  Kneeling down on one knee beside Glory, Amir said, “Here, let me try.”

  Glory started to hand him the rock hammer, but he shook his head.

  “I don’t think non-magical tools are going to do the job on this stuff.” Placing his left hand over the green gem, Amir closed his eyes and spoke to the head-size piece of white rock. He sent it an emotion, which he hoped was a polite request to give up the emerald. He sensed something inside the stone stir as the white rock grew cold beneath his hand. Something hard pressed into his palm.

  Pulling his hand back, he held out the glistening emerald and presented it to Glory. “Here you are, my lady. Another gem for our bag.”

  Glory’s eyes grew large as she stared at the gem. “Amir! I…I mean, I knew you were a great seeker, but I didn’t…” She shook her head and smiled. “I should’ve had more faith.” She looked into his eyes. “You know, I really do love you, don’t you?”

  Amir could only stutter. “I…uh…”

  Glory’s smile grew even wider. “I know. You don’t have to say it.” She reached down, opened the pouch at her waist, and dropped the gem inside. “That makes seventeen. We’ve only got twenty-four more to go.” She winked. “Rest time’s over, lover boy. Time to get back to work.”

  “Hey, we were lucky to get one gem in this place,” he protested. “It’s mined out, remember? I mean it’s not like we’re going to get them all to—”

  Something touched Amir’s mind, causing him to stop short. He looked at the head-sized piece of white stone again. The magic of the stone seemed to touch his mind. For some reason, he got the impression the white stone
wanted to give him something.

  Standing, he looked down at the kneeling Glory. “Let me have your sledge.”

  Without questioning his reason, Glory stood and handed him the heavy sledgehammer, then stepped back to give him room.

  Grasping the magic sledge in both hands, Amir raised it high over his head. He sensed the magic of the sledgehammer as if it were a part of his being. He sensed flows of Power inside the metal head. He reached out with his mind to the white stone and pulled the stone’s magic toward the sledgehammer. At the same time, he coaxed the magic in the hammer to reach out toward the stone. When the two flows of magic met in the middle, he brought the sledgehammer down on the white stone with all his might.

  The sound of the hammer striking the stone was loud as thunder and accompanied by a flash of blue light so bright it forced Amir to look away. When his eyes cleared, the first thing he noticed was Glory rubbing her eyes. Then he looked at the stone. He nearly dropped the sledge. The stone had broken apart into two partially hollowed-out halves. The centers of the halves were encrusted with green crystals that glistened whenever the beam of his light-globe touched them.

  “Glory. Look,” Amir said hardly believing his eyes.

  The giantess rushed over and knelt beside the two stone halves. “It’s a geode,” she said. Then she gasped. “Amir! I think they’re emeralds.

  “That’s not possible,” Amir said as he leaned over to get a better look at the stone halves. “Geodes don’t come with emeralds. They come with common crystals, not precious gems. They’re probably just regular crystals with some kind of mineral in them that makes them look green.”

  Glory lifted one of the stone halves closer to her face and let the light-globe on her helmet shine directly onto the green crystals before glancing up and looking at him. “I’m telling you they’re emeralds. Maybe it’s because the geode was formed in the alabaster granite. How would I know? All I know for sure is that they’re emeralds. There must be a good thirty or forty of them inside.” She smiled. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

  Amir scratched his head. “Uh, that I’m a really good seeker?”

  “No, silly. I mean yes, you are, but that’s not what I’m trying to say. It means we can be married now. There are enough gems in this geode to pay the dowry, buy a home-cave, and still have plenty left over to raise our children.” Her face lit up in a smile so bright it made the light-globe look pale. “We’re going to be married, Amir. You can be Shaman Blackroot’s apprentice and spend all the time you want at the library. We’ll have plenty of emeralds to support us until your shaman training’s finished.”

  Amir squatted down next to Glory and touched the inside of the geode half still on the floor, barely able to believe their luck. The crystals certainly looked like emeralds. At the thought of spending the rest of his life with Glory, a warm feeling spread through his body. He opened his mouth with the intention of telling her how much she meant to him but didn’t get the chance.

  The sound of alarms rose in the distance, echoing through the tunnel.

  Glory’s eyes grew wide as she dropped the geode-half she was holding and drew her longsword. “That’s the alarm for the Sanctuary Vault. It’s only two levels above us. Come on! We’ve got to go! We’ve got to go now.”

  Chapter 4 – First Healer

  _______________________

  The elf-high, rock-strewn gully provided little in the way of protection for the elven scouts as a salvo of arrows and crossbow bolts passed overhead and into the gully. The platoon of twenty-two elven scouts was forced to duck behind whatever cover they could find. One scout was a fraction of a second too slow. A barbed orc arrow caught him on the left side of his chest, easily penetrating his leather chest piece. The elf rolled onto his back screaming while grabbing at the base of the arrow with both hands. Bright red blood spurted out of his torn flesh, making it obvious the wound was mortal.

  An unarmed elven scout wearing a brown and green tunic with a concentric set of circles sewn on the collar of his blouse broke cover. The elf half-ran, half-crawled out of his hiding spot, grabbed hold of the wounded soldier’s cape, and began dragging him behind a nearby boulder. Arrows and crossbow bolts landed all around the two soldiers. By some miracle, the second scout succeeded in pulling his comrade to safety without being hit.

  Elf Medic Stancil stared down at the wounded scout he’d just brought to cover. He’d seen too many wounds over the years not to recognize the seriousness of the injury. No one needed to tell him that conventional methods of healing would only delay his comrade’s death and wouldn’t prevent it. Taking a deep breath, Stancil sought out his Power reserve the way he’d been taught and pulled a third of the Power into the center of his being. Forcing the wounded soldier’s hands out of the way, he placed both palms around the point where the shaft of the arrow protruded from the bloody wound. He merged his mind with the torn flesh around the shaft and barb. An image of the tip of the arrowhead touching the main artery of the wounded elf’s heart flashed in Stancil’s mind.

  Glancing at the dying scout’s face, Stancil noticed the soldier’s youth. The lad is barely three-hundred and fifty.

  He glanced around at the other soldiers in the platoon hunkering behind the sparse cover of the gully. All of them are too young to have to die.

  Taking a deep breath, Stancil resigned himself to what he had to do. I can do this. I just have to heal the flesh around the barb as I pull the arrow out. I can do this. I know I can.

  Wrapping the wound in Power, Stancil grabbed the shaft of the arrow with his right hand and pulled hard. The wounded scout screamed in agony as the arrow shaft tried to come out. The barb caught on a rib. The arrow’s already weakened wooden shaft cracked and broke, leaving the barb buried deep inside the still screaming elf.

  “No!” Stancil shouted. “I will not let you die!”

  Wrapping Power directly around the barb, Stancil pulled a dagger out of his waist belt and began cutting away at the flesh around the wound in an attempt to remove the barb before the elf bled to death.

  The scout screamed in agony. “Stop. For Creator’s sake, stop!”

  Ignoring the high-pitched screams, Stancil held the scout in place with his left hand while he continued cutting away at the wound with the dagger in his right.

  The scout tried to break free from Stancil’s grasp, but the wounded elf was too weak and Stancil was too desperate.

  He tried using his Power to heal a severed artery near the barb, but it didn’t work. His Power seemed to delay in obeying his commands. Blood spurted out of the elf’s flesh in a stream. Desperation spurred Stancil on. He cut a line between two ribs. Tossing the dagger aside, he shoved his forefinger into the opening and sought out the barb.

  The wounded scout screamed even louder, if that was possible. Suddenly, he arched his back and then relaxed as Stancil pulled the wicked-looking barb out of the torn flesh. The soldier no longer screamed. Stancil forced Power into the wound, but it was too late. The scout was already gone.

  Stancil stared at the scout’s ashen face before looking at his bloody hands.

  An elf on the other side of the gully screamed and grabbed at a crossbow bolt protruding from her neck. Another scream sounded from farther down the gully, then another and another. Stancil rose to his feet and started toward the scout with the neck wound. The soldier’s body turned transparent, then the gully began to fade from view.

  The landscape of the battle area was replaced by the white walls of the testing room. Four elf-high metal poles with glowing red lights at the top formed a twenty-meter-square around Stancil. A redheaded human female was bent over a panel with flashing lights and levers. Standing next to the redhead was a human male dressed in a black uniform with silver trim. Just behind the black-garbed human was the gnome mage Rembis. The high priestess of the Lady of the Tree, High Priestess Jeehanathoraxen, stood next to the gnome.

  Stancil stared down at his hands. They were no longer bloody. He thought of
the scout who’d died under his care. No, it was not a scout. It was an illusion of a scout. But his pain was so real. And he died. He died because of me. I failed. I failed the test.

  The black-garbed human turned to look at the redheaded woman monitoring the controls of the holo-square. “You were late in making the wound respond to the medic’s Power. The medic’s procedure was correct. He should’ve been able to save the elf’s life. Are you sure you’ve got the equipment adjusted correctly?”

  The redhead turned away from her control panel and glared at the human in black. “Don’t take that attitude with me, Terrie,” she said in the heavy Irish accent she reverted to when angry. “You may be a wizard scout, but you’re still my husband, and I don’t appreciate that tone of voice.” She jerked a thumb at the panel of flashing lights. “As for the equipment, it’s working the best that can be expected under the circumstances. The blasted shield that surrounds this planet makes it hard for some of our technology to work correctly. From what I can tell, only the items Rick pulls out of that dimensional pack of his seems to work like they should, and he’s not here.”

  Wizard Scout Terrie Shatstot held up both hands in surrender. “Relax, Angela. You’re doing a great job. I was only asking a question. I know you’ve got a tough job getting the Empire’s technology to work in this place.”

  “Well,” Angela said, losing some of her accent. “As long as you know it’s not easy.”

  Terrie laughed. “Oh, believe me, I do.” He turned to look at Stancil. “You did everything perfect, Candidate. More than perfect in fact. Combining Power and your past healer skills was a great idea. I’d never have tried to cut the barb out by hand.”

  Stancil glanced at his hands again before looking back at the wizard scout. The memory of the dying scout was too fresh on his mind to fully comprehend what was happening.