Wizard Gigantic (Intergalactic Wizard Scout Chronicles Book 9)

by Rodney Hartman

  “Now that hurts, Wizard Scout. I have tried to store their words in my databanks, but it disappears from my storage unit a nanosecond after I put it there. I am as mystified as you.”

  “Whatever,” Richard said. “I suppose I should be grateful they gave me some clothes.” He touched the brown shirt he’d been given. The material was soft but rugged at the same time. “The shirt’s a little tight, but at least my pants fit.” He wiggled his toes in the boots the largest of the elves had given him. “These are comfortable. I wonder what they’re made of.”

  “Does it matter? It beats walking in your bare feet.”

  Richard couldn’t argue the point. He glanced around at the four elf lancers who’d taken it upon themselves to watch over him. They were spaced out two to his front and two to his rear. Their little group rode in the center of the elf formation. While everyone had been polite to him over the last few days, or at least as polite as they could be considering neither he nor they could understand each other, he wasn’t fooled. He was the elves’ prisoner. It was as simple as that.

  “Oh, don’t take it so hard,” said Nickelo. “At least you have all the food and water you can handle. Those two mages cast spells every evening to refill the water skins, and the team of lancers assigned as your, uh…guardians let you have all of the summoned black bread you want.”

  Richard snorted louder this time. “Big deal. I’ve had cardboard that tastes better than the bread from those mages’ spells. What little dried meat and grain they pass out to supplement the bread doesn’t go far.”

  “I suppose not,” replied Nickelo. “Makes me glad I am not a carbon-based creature that needs to eat to stay alive. The elves are obviously short on rations. Based upon the rationing of their supplies, I suspect they have a long way to go. I must say I am proud of you for not eating any of your team’s dried meat and rice when they try to give it to you. You make do with the bread.”

  Richard’s stomach churned at the thought of the dried black bread. He hated the stuff. Even so, he wasn’t so selfish as to eat the limited stores of the elves when he didn’t need it to survive. Although he stayed a little famished, he made do with the summoned bread to take the edge off his hunger pains. “Well, at least the water’s plentiful even if it tastes flat. Heck, water’s so plentiful they let me wash off in that canvas basin yesterday.”

  “Ah, yes,” laughed Nickelo. “All the comforts of home, wherever that is.”

  A distant clap of thunder drew Richard out of his half-sleep. Looking ahead, he spotted a plume of smoke coming out of one of the mountains he’d been using as a sort of gauge for their course and distance. The mountain range was much closer than when the elves had first found him.

  “I think old smoky over there’s getting ready to blow,” Richard commented.

  “I calculate you are correct. Based upon the information from your passive scan, I would say several of the mountains are getting ready to erupt. That whole range is unstable. I wonder why the elves are headed there?”

  Richard heard a shout of gibberish from the front of the column, then noticed one of the point elves riding hell-bent-for-leather back toward the elf priestess and her entourage. The four lancers around Richard began speaking gibberish and pointing ahead. One of the lancers, a small female called Tracer with light brown hair cut nearly as short as her male companions said something to the brute in chainmail.

  “His name is Amir,” said Nickelo as if Richard needed reminding. “You should try using it more often.”

  As the only other non-elf in the group, Amir had continued to be a mystery to Richard over the past three days. Although the big man had been cordial enough in his actions, Richard occasionally sensed an underlying hostility below the man’s facade of civility. One thing he’d learned about the big guy was that he was dedicated to his weapons training. Regardless of the temperature or what time they stopped for the night, Amir spent an hour or more practicing, sometimes alone and sometimes with the aid of a couple of elf lancers or one of the monks. The big man was equally proficient with both sword and war hammer.

  “Actually,” said Nickelo, “I would classify it as a sledgehammer, not a war hammer.”

  “I stand corrected,” Richard thought back. At the moment, he was more interested in Amir and the elves around him than he was in his battle computer.

  Responding to what must’ve been a question from Tracer, Amir said something in gibberish to the female lancer. Then the big man looked at Richard and pointed at the ground. Without another word, Amir turned and headed toward the front of the column.

  Unsure what to do, Richard shrugged and dismounted before following the man, leading his horse by the reins. His four elf guardians dismounted, staying close behind as they also led their horses. When Richard reached the front of the column, the elf priestess and her two mages were in deep conversation with the lancer that had been riding point. The elf priestess glanced over her shoulder at Richard before speaking to the two mages. The brown-haired mage who Richard knew as Derander raised his voice. The priestess said something sharp in return before dismounting her horse. The brown-haired mage stayed where he was.

  Once on foot, Mia beckoned for Amir and Richard to follow. With the now dismounted lancer that had been on point leading the way, Mia, Amir, Richard, and his four lancer companions made their way toward a four-meter high sand dune a hundred meters away. The remainder of the elves remained behind with the pack animals.

  After a few steps, Richard glanced back at the elves that had stayed behind. The mage Derander was waving his arms at the white-haired mage and mouthing words Richard was sure would be gibberish even if he’d been close enough to hear.

  “What an a-hole,” Richard told his battle computer. “He’s been acting like a jerk from day one.”

  “Maybe he’s just concerned for the priestess,” said Nickelo. “Can you sense anything ahead? The elves look cautious enough.”

  Glancing at his companions, Richard noticed Tracer and two of the other elf lancers had handed the reins for their horses to the fourth lancer. Instead of their reins, the three elves now held their bows with arrows nocked and at the ready. Amir had drawn his sword with his left hand while holding the sledgehammer in his right. The priestess Mia, on the other hand, looked calm as a cucumber.

  “Uh,” said Nickelo. “Do you even know what a cucumber is?”

  “Not really,” Richard said. “It must be some kind of saying I’ve heard before. The point I was trying to make was that—”

  “I know what you were trying to say,” said Nickelo. “I’m not stupid. Now, are you going to tell me if you sense anything with your passive scan or not?”

  Deciding to avoid an argument, Richard let his surroundings merge with his mind. Ignoring the elves around and behind him, he concentrated on the area beyond the dune. He sensed dozens of small life forms. Just as he was about to say something, the wind shifted.

  Tracer and another of the lancers fell to their knees and vomited up their noontime meal of summoned bread and water.

  Richard was tempted to join them. The stench coming from the other side of the dune was horrendous. “What in the world?” he said as he pulled a rag from the pocket of the brown-linen pants he’d been given and placed the rag over his mouth and nose. “Whatever that is would gag a maggot.”

  Glancing at Priestess Mia, Richard noticed her square her shoulders and wave a hand in the air as she said a word of gibberish. A shimmering band of energy appeared over the elf priestess’s mouth and nose. She ran forward to the top of the hill before anyone could stop her and gave out a cry of agony.

  Without thinking, Richard broke from the others and ran to the top of the dune to stand beside the elf priestess. At the base of the other side of the dune was a ten-meter-wide river as much mud as it was water. The river wasn’t what drew Richard’s attention. It was the sight of scores, maybe hundreds, of bloated bodies hacked beyond recognition. Body parts were scattered on the other side of the river a hundr
ed meters up and down stream, intermingled with half burnt carts and bundles of torn clothing strewn every-which-way. Whether the bodies were those of humans, elves, or some other race, Richard couldn’t tell. Someone or something had gone to great pains to make sure no limbs or heads remained on any of the torsos. Scores of half-meter-tall black birds and four-legged coyote-looking creatures were feasting on the remains.

  Mia slammed the butt of her staff into the sand and shouted some gibberish.

  Richard sensed Power being drawn into the priestess and converting into what he knew was magic. The ground rippled beneath the elf’s feet and shot toward the carnage, expanding ever outward as it went. Richard fell to his knees. By the time he recovered and rose to a standing position, birds were flying into the air as the four-legged scavengers scattered in all directions.

  The sounds of galloping and shouts came from behind Richard. As he turned, he spotted the brown-haired mage Derander leaping off his mount at the base of the dune and levitating to the top. He struck out with his staff, knocking Richard back to the ground.

  Shouts of gibberish came from the high priestess as she stepped between Derander and Richard. The brown-haired mage lowered his staff, but shouted words of gibberish of his own.

  Something inside Richard rattled its cage. He balled his fists and reached out with his mind, picking the most vulnerable spot on the mage’s neck. The something in its cage urged him to strike the elf and break his spine with a well-placed chop of his hand. Another something inside Richard tugged at his heart, urging caution and self-control.

  The second something won out.

  Uncurling his fists, Richard sat up, but he remained on the ground where he’d fallen. I won’t kill him this time, he thought. But I swear if he ever hits me again, that’ll be the last thing he ever does.

  Chapter 12 – Aftermath

  ______________________

  Amir arrived at the top of the sand dune in time to see Lord Derander knock the human down and raise his staff for another blow. From the spell the mage had ready in his staff, Amir was sure the only thing that saved the human’s life was the high priestess’s timely intervention.

  Lord Derander hastily stepped back, giving the high priestess some room. “I heard you scream. I thought the human was attacking you. I was trying to pro—”

  “You were trying to protect me, you say?” said Mia. “Did you bother to look around?” She pointed at the mutilated corpses on the other side of the river and then down at the human still sitting on the ground. “Do you think he did that? I screamed at the horror I saw before my eyes. Whoever did this is the enemy, not this poor human.”

  Looking across the river, Lord Derander’s face turned a deathly white. “I…I am sorry, Mia. I just— Well, you know how I fe— Well, I am sorry.”

  By this time, Commander Astradis and his two monks had arrived and positioned themselves around the two elven lords. Amir noticed one of the monks make sure she was between Mia and the human.

  “High Priestess,” said Commander Astradis. “We should withdraw and seek a safer area. Sergeant Thornbriar has set up a defensive perimeter, but he will not be able to hold it for long if we are attacked in force. There is nothing for us here. I recommend we move upstream.”

  Amir was all for moving. The stench at the top of the dune was nauseating. He had a feeling the only thing keeping him from vomiting was the fact that he didn’t want to shame himself in front of the human.

  Mia shook her head. “No. Not yet. We cannot leave those poor unfortunates for the carrion eaters.”

  “Mia,” said Lord Derander. “There is nothing we can do.” He waved a hand at what was across the river. “It would take days for us to bury half of those bodies. The longer we stay here, the longer we expose ourselves to danger. The Oracle told us the populations of the mountains were on the move. This is probably just the aftermath of one of many encounters between the races.”

  “He is right,” said Commander Astradis. “I can tell from what’s left of those wagons that they are of human design. My guess is this was a caravan from some mountain villages that banded together in an attempt to reach safety. They must have been attacked by a group of orcs, probably refugees themselves. Our best course of action is to leave at once and cross the Donyar River at another point well away from here.”

  Looking across the river at the remains of the caravan, Mia began walking down the dune toward the bank.

  Lord Derander and the three monks started to follow. Amir also took a step, but before he could take another, the high priestess turned around.

  “No,” said Mia. “Stay where you are, all of you. This is priestess work.” She glanced at Lord Derander. “I will remain on this side of the river. You can cover me from where you are.”

  Amir noticed Lord Derander grit his teeth, but to his credit, the elf mage didn’t argue.

  Mia resumed walking until she was at the bank of the muddy river. Raising her staff, she spoke words Amir heard but quickly forgot. He sensed the high priestess draw Power from her reserve—a lot of Power. As Mia chanted her spell, the Power converted into magic. As the magic grew, Amir sensed the high priestess funneling it into the Staff of the Lady of the Tree. The blue gem at the top of the staff glowed brighter until he had to raise a hand to shield his eyes. He sensed more than saw Mia place the butt of her staff on the ground. Magic flowed out from the staff and crossed the river where it spread to encompass the entire area where the ambush had taken place. When the glow from the staff diminished somewhat, Amir lowered his hand and looked across the river. The ground beneath the mutilated bodies was beginning to ripple as if it were water. Slowly but surely, the bodies, the carts, and everything not a natural part of the landscape began sinking. Within a score of heartbeats, the ground stopped moving. When the land grew still, nothing remained of the carnage that had once been there. The landscape looked pure again.

  Mia’s next words were no longer those of her spell, and her voice was full of sadness. “Lady, I beg you to give these souls the peace they did not find while alive. I also beseech you to help us with our quest to save our land. Plead for us before the Creator that he may send us a helper. I fear we cannot do it on our own.”

  Blasts of thunder echoed from the direction of the mountains.

  Amir turned his attention to the dark plumes rising from the tops of three of the mountains. He could just make out a red glow on the side of one of the rocky slopes.

  Rejoining them at the top of the dune, Mia walked over to the human who was still sitting on the ground where Lord Derander had knocked him. The high priestess squatted down and extended a hand. “Come, friend Rick. We must leave this place. We will grieve for your people later.”

  The human uttered some gibberish. After a moment, he reached out and accepted Mia’s hand. They stood together.

  Amir glanced at Lord Derander. The mage’s knuckles were white where he gripped his staff.

  “Come,” said Mia as she released her grip on the human. “Our quest with Elf Friend Amir takes us elsewhere. We can tarry here no more. Time grows short.”

  The mountains thundered their agreement.

  Amir only hoped it was not already too late. Elf friend or not, I am only a giant, he thought. If I am the only one the Creator has sent to help the elves on their quest, then the land may well be lost. The Creator should have sent more help than me. He glanced over at the human who was walking down the backside of the dune toward his horse. I almost wish he was as powerful as the one who destroyed the Heart-stone. Then perhaps the Oracle’s quest would stand a chance.

  The mountains thundered again, and the ground shook hard enough to cause the human to stumble.

  Amir shook his head. As it is, the land may well already be doomed.

  Chapter 13 – Feelings

  ______________________

  Jeena materialized near a small starship resting on one of the two royal launch pads located behind the war-king’s palace on Trecor. The once sleek recon sh
ip looked bulky with a zip fighter under one wing, a dragon-fighter under the other, and the prototype X-shuttle attached to the back of the ship. Looks were deceiving. Jeena new full well the Crosioians’ intergalactic drive located in the Defiant’s engine compartment made her the fastest ship in the galaxy. She had a feeling they were going to need the ship’s speed in the coming weeks. As far as she was concerned, it had been a lucky day when the Defiant was assigned as the temporary royal yacht for the Crosioians’ supreme leader after her official yacht had been attacked and nearly destroyed by a tribe of renegade Crosioians.

  Jeena took a moment longer to survey the recon ship. It was in a horizontal landing position with the rear ramp down. At the top of the ramp stood a greeting party consisting of Sergeant Ron, Charlie, Comstar, and Red Wing.

  Stepping forward, Sergeant Ron scratched his beard and grinned. “Well, I see Rick’s niece and nephew got you teleported here with no problem. What I’d like to know is what kinda mess did you get us into this time?”

  Jeena tried to smile at the old ship captain’s attempt at humor. She only partially succeeded. The hurt of losing contact with her bondmate was still fresh in her mind.

  “You have not lost complete contact,” said Danny. “He’s been sent fourteen thousand years in the past as you requested. Even that far back, you can still sense his presence. Like I said, your bond link is not completely cut off. It is just not as strong as it usually is. At least you know he’s alive.”

  Twisting the ring on her left index finger with her right hand in what she knew was a nervous habit, Jeena took solace in the slight presence she felt through the ring’s red gem. “Yes, he is alive, but whether he is safe or in pain, I cannot say. The connection is too weak to tell. I will admit that I can tell where he is in the past. If I so chose, I could have Brachia or Dren teleport me through time to be with him, but that cannot be. I have my own duties to fulfill.”