The Wizard of the North

by Richard Stephens

  The land between the Gap and the woodland lay windswept and barren—the hard, scrub-covered earth dotted by dead trees.

  He vaguely remembered the bleak fields north of the abandoned city known as Wizard’s Gibbet, but he had certainly never forgotten the ruins themselves. The Group of Five had almost lost Alcyonne and Javen during their misguided trek through the abandoned city.

  In the distance the skyline of Wizard’s Gibbet rose stark in the fading daylight.

  “Can’t we travel around that?” Silurian asked.

  Melody followed his gaze. “I’m not keen on travelling east of the city—the Wilds touch upon its walls. If I remember correctly, the west side is made impassable by a chasm that runs along the outer wall.”

  “If the Wilds are that close, what difference will it make if we skirt around it to the east?”

  Melody shrugged. “Phazarus claimed the creatures are afraid to pass beyond the city walls.”

  “Sounds like a good reason to walk around. If creatures bent on killing us are afraid to go near the ruins, doesn’t that scream at you that we shouldn’t go near them either?”

  “I don’t know,” Melody said, squinting at the vine-covered wall surrounding Wizard’s Gibbet. A layer of fog carpeted its base and extended through the open gatehouse into the town. “Phazarus always came this way.”

  “He was the Wizard of the North,” Silurian said without thinking. He gave Melody an apologetic look. “And now you are the Wizard of the North.”

  She flashed an ingenuous smile. “Ya, right.”

  The sun had set by the time they approached the imposing northern gates. Almost every building visible inside the city had suffered from some ancient cataclysm and yet, the stone block wall, coated in thorny ivy, appeared like it hadn’t weathered a bit.

  Silurian unsheathed his sword and stepped up to the raised barbican. He pulled back instantly, rubbing his neck. “Ow!” The sudden pain ceased. “What was that? Did you feel anything?”

  Melody frowned and shook her head. She scanned the walls and cobblestone path meandering between the first set of decrepit buildings to where it twisted out of sight into the gloom beyond.

  Irked by the unexplained, stabbing pain, Silurian muttered, “Why does it appear darker in there?”

  Melody considered the question. “Wizard’s Gibbet has always lain under an ethereal shroud. Phazarus attributed the unearthly pall to the disembodied spirits of the community of wizards who used to call this place home. They were persecuted and hung for their pursuit of magic by the first Emperor of the Kraidic Empire. The Kraken himself. I say we go in.”

  Silurian put a hand out for her to lead the way. “Since you are the Wizard of the North, I respectfully defer to you, oh mighty spellcaster.”

  She shot him a stern look and entered the town.

  Silurian waited for her to react to the same jolt he had experienced, but she wasn’t fazed at all. Strange. He hadn’t imagined the pain. He gave the gateway a leery once over before hesitantly stepping over the threshold into Wizard’s Gibbet. His body tensed, absorbing another shock. “What the…?” he exclaimed, leaping free of the barbican’s shadow. The shock dissipated as quickly as it had come.

  Melody held up her staff. Its hidden runes flared to life momentarily, but their orangey glow faded until the runes were no longer distinguishable. “The gatehouse must be warded,” she said, and walked up the brick paved road. “Funny, you would think I would remember something like that.”

  “Ya, real funny,” Silurian muttered, quick stepping to catch up with her. “You know the way through here, right?”

  Melody considered the question. The town walls surrounded the broken outer buildings, stretching off to either side and out of sight. A narrow walkway ran along the base of the wall, while the main road ran into the heart of the desolate town.

  “It can’t be too hard. I imagine we just follow this road to its end.”

  “You imagine?”

  “Or, we could follow one of the walls. If they do surround the town we will come across another gate at some point,” she answered. “If there are holes in the wall though, I’m afraid of what might lurk on the other side. I say we follow the central roadway.”

  Silurian scuffed along beside her, his eyes darting from blackened doorway to shattered window, from a gaping hole in the nearest building to the collapsed stone roof of a building across the road. As they stepped between the remains of the first two structures, the light of the world perceptibly darkened.

  Silurian searched the sky for the reason behind the change in light. “So, tell me again. What’s the significance of this place?”

  Melody didn’t respond at first. She leaned into the gaping doorway of a two-story, stone building on their right. She recoiled at once, gagging. She coughed and waved a hand in front of her nose. “Ew, that’s awful.”

  The smell of rotting death made Silurian reconsider his curiosity. He scrunched his nose and gave the doorway a wide berth.

  Composing herself, Melody left the pungent entranceway behind. “According to Phazarus, this settlement was once known as Arcanium. Not that stinky building, the city itself.”

  Silurian mouthed the word as he inspected an alleyway between the first two buildings on his left.

  “Before the rise of the Kraidic Empire, this area was the home of the Wizard of the North. All of these buildings belonged to the resident wizard. That was over four centuries ago.”

  “Four centuries ago? This place was destroyed that long ago? What would one person want with a city full of buildings?”

  “Beats me. I’m just telling you what Phazarus told me. Apparently, Arcanium was a place where all types of magic users like enchanters, diviners, augurers, spellcasters, those with an inherent gift and even necromancers and their ilk, well, they all came here to better understand their craft.” Her voice dropped off. “They have all been pretty much exterminated now.”

  “A type of school then, huh? The walls look as if they are freshly built. Who cares for this place now?” Silurian asked, his anxiety rising.

  “The ghosts of wizards’ past.” Melody said it so casually it was as if what she imparted was common knowledge.

  Silurian stopped and frowned at her. “Don’t tell me things like that.”

  “You asked,” Melody replied and continued walking. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing more than superstitious rhetoric.

  They jumped. A rock caromed off the cobblestones in the shadows ahead of them.

  Melody shot him a look.

  “What? It wasn’t me. Sounds like your superstitious rhetoric is skulking about.” Silurian grabbed Melody’s robes and pulled her behind him. “Something’s here.”

  Melody mumbled something and her staff’s runes flared to life, casting their immediate area with an orange hue, but wasn’t strong enough to pierce the foggy haze clinging to the ground.

  They stood motionless. Silurian’s eyes never stopped scanning. “Whatever that was, we need to keep moving. I don’t care to be stuck in this place after dark.”

  “Yes, I agree.” Melody emitted a nervous chuckle. “Was probably just a rat.”

  The cobblestone roadway twisted between oddly shaped buildings, no apparent thought given to its course. Several secondary paths branched off the road in either direction, but where they led to, neither Silurian or his sister cared to investigate.

  His skin tingled. An inner alarm raised the hairs on his neck. The feeling was disturbingly similar to the one he had sensed before he confronted the possessed Voil wizard, Menthliot. This time the feeling wasn’t as strong, nor did he get the sensation that something awaited them. Rather, it seemed that whatever it was, meant them no harm at all.

  He peered hard, but there was no way he could see into the gaping black holes riddling the listing buildings lining the roadway. Nor did he wish to enter the precarious structures. Whether it meant them harm or not, he wasn’t about to take any chances where his sister was concerned.

/>   “Something watches us,” he whispered.

  Melody stopped. She took a deep breath and said louder than was necessary, “Where?”

  “I’m not sure.” Silurian tilted his head to indicate a three-story, brick building missing its far front corner. “It keeps moving about. I think it’s in there.”

  They stopped and feigned being unaware of their stalker. Melody searched through the endless contents of her small bag. She pulled out a flat piece of hardened cheese wrapped in cloth, and with difficulty broke off a couple of pieces. She handed one to Silurian and stuffed the other into her mouth, before placing the remainder back in the bag.

  She pulled out the stubby vial containing the green ichor, and held it to the pale sky. She looked at Silurian and raised her eyebrows twice in quick succession.

  “What is it?”

  “Cave blowing up stuff.” She carefully worried the cork free, and said absently, “I wish Rook was here.”

  He gave her a puzzled look.

  “We could use his bow to launch this through that upper window.”

  He nodded and bent down to pick up a fist-sized chunk of broken brick. “Will this do?”

  She considered the proffered shard. “It might, though I’m a little hesitant to waste this stuff. It took years to make this much.”

  Silurian frowned at the near-empty vial.

  “I guess it couldn’t hurt,” Melody said, more to herself and inverted the vial.

  He watched on, expecting the contents to flow onto the brick, but nothing happened.

  Melody gently shook the container, urging the gelatinous goo from its resting place. At one point she accidentally tapped the vial on the brick and took a quick intake of breath.

  “Whew,” was all she said in explanation, and resumed worrying the green ichor along. Gradually a dollop oozed to the edge of the vial, enough to allow her to ever so cautiously coat the pointed end of the shard.

  Melody nodded at her handiwork and handed the brick, goo side away from him, to Silurian. “Here, take it. Whatever you do, don’t drop it. And don’t touch the ichor.”

  Silurian relieved her of the brick, holding it away from his body, eyes wide. He watched his sister patiently wait for the goo to settle back into the bottom of the vial before gently reinserting the stopper and placing it back into her bag.

  She gave him a little smile. “Do you think you can reach the upper window?”

  “Pfft,” Silurian replied, indignant. He walked nonchalantly across the roadway and took a few steps closer to the building in question. Making sure not to touch the green substance, he adjusted the brick shard so it rested comfortably in his palm. Leaning back, he took aim and threw.

  As soon as it left his hand, he knew he had thrown poorly.

  “Get down!” Melody’s cry of despair told him she knew it also.

  He ran back and dove down beside her.

  The rock impacted the building well short of the gaping window. It chinked off the wall and fell to the cobblestones, skittering several times before coming to a rest.

  With each skitter, Melody flinched, but nothing happened.

  “That’s odd,” she said, standing up. “There’s enough ichor to bring down that entire building.”

  “You sure you used the right stuff?”

  The look she gave him was answer enough.

  Silurian studied the crumbling structure, trying to sense the other’s presence, but he no longer felt anything untoward. “Whatever it was, it’s gone now.”

  “How do you know that?’

  He shrugged. “I’ve always been able to sense things. Remember Thonk?”

  Melody glared at him. “How can I not?”

  “It’s weird, now that I think about it. I was never able to detect Hairy.”

  “Hmm?” Melody replied, her attention elsewhere. “Come on. It’s getting dark.”

  Silurian gazed at the sky. Night had taken a firm hold on Wizard’s Gibbet, but their eyes had adjusted accordingly. A three-quarter moon rose over the eastern row of buildings providing enough light to see by amongst the deeper shadows that clung to the buildings.

  Melody located the errant brick and examined its surface. The layer of gelatinous substance still clung to the brick, together with small bits of dirt it had picked up. “That’s bizarre. It should’ve worked,” she muttered. Rummaging through her bag, she produced a dirty scrap of cloth and carefully bundled the shard into the depths of the worn satchel.

  A short walk brought them to the town centre. The cobblestones spread into a square courtyard nestled between several long buildings. The rising moon squatted upon the far edge of the open area, a lone tree highlighted within its frame. The tree dominated the centre of the square, its skeletal branches soaring into the sky. Large stone slabs were piled beneath the barren tree’s lowest limbs.

  “Gallows Square,” Melody whispered. “That tree is known as the Wizard’s Gibbet.”

  Silurian swallowed, his eyes darting from the gallows slabs to his sister and back again as they slowly approached the tree. The brooding oak appeared alive, highlighted in the moonlight and shimmering in the mist. If what Melody had told him was true, the tree was over five hundred years old; its great trunk thrust up through the cobbles lining its base.

  A shadowy form detached itself from the backside of the gibbet tree and slithered quickly away from them, disappearing within a dark alley on the far side of the square.

  “What was that?” Silurian’s voice almost squeaked. As heightened as his senses were, he had barely registered the apparition’s presence.

  Melody’s staff lit up.

  A soft hiss came from their right, the eerie sound rapidly imitated all across the square behind them.

  Silurian spun about, sword held in front of him, his gaze darting from one darkened doorway to a yawning black alleyway and up to a second story window. Black shadows slithered into the square, their lithe forms skulking across the paving stones, closing in around the wizard’s gibbet.

  Turning slowly, Silurian and Melody backed toward the hangman’s tree as hundreds of shadowy forms creeped toward them.

  Treachery

  Alhena ascended the flight of exquisitely carved granite steps to the lower platform within the cavern of the Chamber of the Wise. Olmar waddled up the steps behind him, followed closely by Sadyra and Larina. Ensuring they didn’t tarry, a dozen, heavily armoured Gritian pikemen prodded them from behind.

  He was thankful Olmar had restrained his urge to start breaking heads when Jibrael demanded they be stripped of their weapons. Matters almost came to a head when the Enervator insisted Alhena’s staff be taken from him, but the messenger had quietly assured Olmar that everything would be okay once the Chambermaster heard what he had to impart.

  The group milled about at the top of the steps, quietly awaiting the arrival of Chambermaster Uzziah. No one spoke, but every so often Olmar muttered something indecipherable under his breath. Alhena sensed the sailor and the archers were sizing up the men guarding them.

  Alhena recognized most of the no-nonsense guardsmen. These men had been personally responsible for High Warlord Archimedes’ safety. Even though they had ultimately failed in their duty, mighty Olmar wasn’t enough to take them all on.

  The great oaken doors at the far end of the chamber swung outward. Six additional guardsmen escorted Chambermaster Uzziah and Vice Chambermaster Io along with Vice Chambermistress Gruss and a hunched figure whose features were hidden beneath a black cowl. Jibrael was amongst the trailing guardsmen—the last two pulled the doors closed.

  Olmar growled like an angry bear.

  “Easy, Lunkhead,” Larina whispered, smiling up at Olmar, but his deadly glare did little to assure her that he would obey.

  Sadyra bumped his leg just above his knee with her hip. “Aye, Midge, let Alhena deal with this.”

  “Come, Alhena,” the chambermaster commanded as his entourage passed casually by them.

  The chambermaster sat within the e
mbrace of a highbacked chair. “Stand before us and present the events that bring you back here.”

  The newly arrived militiamen fanned out across the platform, four of the guards remaining within easy reach of Olmar.

  A sly smile passed between the two female archers, neither of whom were given much consideration by the Chamber Guard.

  When the others were seated as well, except for the dark figure Alhena didn’t recognize, and the Enervator who had taken up a position behind Chambermaster Uzziah, Alhena held a palm out to stay Olmar, and moved to stand before the council members.

  “Before we get started, why don’t you tell us about Silurian Mintaka. Where is he?” the chambermaster asked.

  Alhena looked at Olmar and the archers. Not knowing how to say it in a way that would ease the shock, he said, “He is dead, Your Eminence. He died defending the people who followed him on his quest to reclaim the lost power of his sword.”

  The council members regarded Alhena with stoic interest. The news of Silurian’s demise hadn’t affected them in the slightest.

  “The Chamber doesn’t believe you,” the chambermaster spoke for the council.

  Alhena threw his palms up, flabbergasted at the chambermaster’s lack of emotion. Silurian and Abraham had been close friends once upon a time. “Whether you believe me or not, the truth remains the same. Silurian Mintaka is dead. He died in the mythical Under Realm along with,” he paused to indicate Jibrael, “Your previous Enervator, Avarick Thwart.”

  “Do not speak that name within these hallowed halls.” The chambermaster’s voice dripped with acid. “He facilitated Mintaka’s escape. The repercussions of his actions have left an irreparable scar upon the land. The news out of Carillon is that King Malcolm and the entire royal family have perished.”

  Alhena’s face turned ashen.

  “Aye. Too late do you see the result of your actions. The king’s death is on your head, Alhena Sirrus. What do you say to that?”

  Several guardsmen tensed as Olmar bunched his fists and snarled.