Foundling Wizard (Book 1) (18 page)

“How will you do this?” Ryvor asked Lorit.

“I have a spell to make myself invisible to all but the priests,” Lorit explained. “Even then, it does shield me from them so that they will not feel my power. They will be able to see me if I’m not careful. That’s why I want to go during Evening Prayer. The priests are usually occupied. They won’t be looking around. There are a lot of people going into the temple. One more or less won’t be noticed if we do this right.”

He chose a family that had just been dropped off by coach. There were two adults and two young children, a boy and a girl. “There,” he said pointing. “That’s my entry escort.”

Lorit raised his shields and scurried up behind the family. He patiently waited for them to present themselves to the guard for access. He slipped behind them as they entered the temple and immediately headed off to look for Ardser.

Lorit couldn’t feel the power that he’d come to associate with Ardser. He wondered if the temple shielding were preventing him from locating the boy. Maybe he was being held in a cell as Lorit himself had been not long ago.

He scoured the halls looking for the room where they were detaining Ardser. The temple layout wasn’t quite the same as the two previous ones Lorit had surveyed. Eventually, he located a door that felt like the chamber where they’d tortured him.

He wondered if they’d tortured Ardser in the same manner. Surely, the boy had no knowledge that held much value to them. He hoped that they’d been merciful and that Ardser hadn’t had to endure the ordeal Lorit had at their hands.

He tested the door and found it locked. Lorit concentrated this time foregoing a key altogether. This time, he simply reached inside the lock and unlocked it with his powers. The door screeched on rusty hinges as he pushed it open. He stepped inside and shoved it closed behind him, hoping no one had noticed.

The room was pitch-dark with the door closed. Lorit felt around the room until he located a candle. He reached out with his power and lit the candle raising it high above his head to illuminate the room.

The room bore much similarity to the one in which he’d been interrogated. On the table, he saw someone’s bound hands and feet in manacles attached to the table. The figure lay stills making no sound or struggle. Lorit approached and lowered the candle to get a better look.

The dim, flickering candle light fell across the figure.

It was Ardser.

He lay there motionless; no sign of pain or discomfort showed on his face.

“Ardser,” he whispered. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Lorit looked around the room for Ardser’s pack. He spotted it lying in the corner, crumpled up, with its contents spread across the floor. He started to place the items Ardser’s mother had carefully stowed back into the pack.

“Good thing your pack is here,” Lorit said. “I’d hate to lose all this stuff.”

Lorit continued to repack Ardser’s provisions. “Your Pa is fine,” he said. “I know you were worried about him. The judge let him go after I saved him from poisoning,” Lorit explained.

He returned to the table and started to unfasten the manacles. He paused when he felt nothing, even when in contact with the boy.

“Ardser?” Lorit asked.

He leaned in close and listened for any sign of the boy’s breathing.

Nothing.

He felt his neck and then his wrist.

Panic rose in Lorit. His body ached with the recollection of what the priest had done to him while he was captive. He’d gambled that Ardser would be able to endure it as he had. Maybe the boy wasn’t strong enough. Maybe he’d passed out under the torture.

Lorit placed his ear on the boy’s chest. He listened for any sign of a heartbeat.

There was no evidence of life. The usual exuberance and sparkle was gone. His charge, so quick with a joke or a crack, lay there still and quiet.

Lorit tore the manacles from the boy in a rush. He rolled him onto his side to examine him. There was no sign of a wound or any injury. Lorit pressed on Ardser’s chest and heard a wheezing sound. He placed his head on the boy’s chest to listen for a heartbeat again.

Still nothing.

Lorit shook his staff and screamed in rage. “What have you done to him?” he bellowed. “He was just an innocent boy!”

Lorit grasped his staff and passed it over the supine form of his friend.

He tried to visualize the light green forces of life flowing back into the boy. He reached out with his senses to grasp the power of the fires that burned along the perimeter of the temple and the streets. He pulled with all his strength, trying to force life back into the body.

He visualized the boy rising from the table, how he would sit up and thank him for saving his father. He pressed this image of the smiling eager boy into the cold lifeless body before him. Lorit could feel the power channeling through him as he directed every memory of the boy into the body. He imagined the spring green color of life coursing through the silent veins, just as he had with the judge.

Nothing happened.

Lorit gave one last scream pulling the power from all around him in one last ditch effort to revive the boy. The lights along the temple entrance flared and died as he siphoned their power through his staff. Lorit felt himself growing weaker with each passing second. He kept up the effort until he was barely able to hold his arms aloft.

Finally, exhausted, he lowered the staff. He struck the body in frustration. “Why did you have to die?” he demanded.

Lorit heard the sound of muffled shouts coming from beyond the door. He gathered his composure and struggled to pull himself together. The door began to move just as he reached for it. He quickly extinguished the candle, plunging the room into darkness.

Two guards rushed in, carrying lanterns that cast wildly swinging shadows across the lifeless body of Ardser. Lorit realized, almost too late, that he’d dropped his shields. He quickly reestablished them and waited for the guards to move into the room and out of the doorway. He hurried back into the temple proper and found a dark corner. He scurried into the shadows, where he hoped no one would see him as he once again dropped his shields.

He was exhausted. The effort he’d expended just to hold his shields to avoid the guards had almost done him in. He stood there, resting, until he felt that he’d regained at least some of this strength.

He waited at the edge of the crowd, trying to fit in with the milling, confused mass of adherents. He listened to the temple patrons as they speculated about him.

“Why did they interrupt Evening Prayer?” one little girl asked.

“I don’t know, Sweetie, but it must be important,” her father answered.

A guard entered the room and took up station in front of the entrance. He was immediately rushed by the patrons demanding an explanation.

“What’s going on?” they demanded. “Why the interruption?” another asked. “What’s happening?” still another voice clamored for information.

“There’s a rogue wizard loose in the temple,” the guard said. “There’s nothing to fear,” he explained. “Father Taiez will be here soon. He will handle this.”

“Are we in any danger?” one young boy asked.

“You are perfectly safe,” the guard assured
.
“There’s nothing to fear.”

Lorit tried to make his way to the door without giving the impression that he was headed in that direction. He made his way through the crowd trying to make it look as if he was trying to get close to a friend or family member. Eventually, he made his way into the crowd nearest the doors.

The Temple guards stood abreast the doors, with their spears blocking the way.

“Please, wait just another moment,” the first guard said. “You are all quite safe here until Father Taiez arrives. He will answer questions to your satisfaction.”

Father Taiez rushed in
,
slightly disheveled and out of breath. He was an older man with a birdlike demeanor, tall, thin and bony, almost undernourished in appearance. He strode into the room and raised his hands to command the attention of the crowd.

“Please, everyone, there is nothing to fear,” he said. His voice was rich and powerful and had an immediate calming effect on the people milling about the room.

“There is nothing to fear,” he said once more. “The guards will shortly open the doors. When they do, I ask that you exit single file, in family order. I will examine everyone as they depart.” He motioned to the guards, who stepped aside and opened one of the doors leading to the avenue.

The light from the fires outside flickered as the guards re-lit the lamps. Flickering light streamed in, illuminating the room and its occupants with an uneven glow. “Single file, in family order,” Father Taiez reminded them.

Lorit stepped aside as the first family approached the doorway. He could see the hesitation in their steps as they approached the doorway. When nothing unusual or sinister happened, more families gathered to take their turn.

Father Taiez stood beside the line, holding his staff high. As each person passed, Lorit cold see them hesitate briefly, then resume their march for the door.

Lorit could think of nothing but to try and walk freely out of the temple along with the next family. He stepped in line behind the family he’d entered the temple with.

As he approached the door, an overwhelming sense of fear and self loathing battered him. In his weakened state, he had to stop and compose himself. The priest reached out and grabbed Lorit by the arm to steady him. “Are you alright, my son?” he asked.

Lorit recalled the technique he’d used to defeat the amulet of dur. He told himself that he was doing nothing wrong, he wasn’t trying to escape, simply stepping outside for a breath of fresh air. He could feel the pressure lighten as he repeated the mantra. He straightened up and took a deep breath, feeling slightly stronger, less ashamed.

“I’m fine, Father. I think I just need some fresh air,” he said.

The priest gently guided him on his way saying, “You are safe my son, go in peace.”

Lorit stepped out of the temple and immediately felt the pressure of the priest’s magic dissipate.

He felt drained, as if all of his energy had been poured into the lifeless body of Ardser leaving him nothing but an empty shell himself. He slowly walked over to the waiting Ryvor and Chihon.

Chihon rushed over to him. “Are you alright?” she asked. She lent him strength, taking his arm around her shoulder and helping him across the street. Ryvor followed closely.

“Where’s my son?” Ryvor asked.

“Let’s get out of their sight,” Lorit said. He indicated the street that led to the Prancing Pony. “Not here,” he added, pushing the man aside and heading down the street.

They found a quiet spot near the stables behind the inn. Lorit stopped and turned to Ryvor. He looked at the man that Ardser favored with his appearance. The overwhelming sense of failure and loss that he’d contained in the temple once again rose up and overcame him.

He fell to his knees screaming in frustration. “He’s dead,” Lorit sobbed. “He was already dead when I got to him. They killed him. He didn’t do anything to them, and they killed him.”

Ryvor crumpled to the ground, sobbing. “My son! Why did you kill my son?” He demanded shaking his fist at the Temple.

“Come on, let's get you home,” Lorit said as he reached down to help Ryvor up.

Road To Trickby

Sulrad called for his guards as he prepared for the meeting.

“Stand by for my signal,” he said. “He’ll be here momentarily.” He leaned back in his chair and waited.

The mist formed in front of the dais upon which Sulrad sat. He waited until it had coalesced into the form of Father Taiez before he signaled the guards.

“Seize him,” Sulrad shouted. “Don’t let him return. Bind his magic,” he ordered.

The guards flanked the startled priest. They quickly bound his hands behind his back and collared him with a collar woven of particular enchanted silver.

“What is the meaning of this,” Taiez demanded. “Why am I being treated this way?”

“Do you have any idea who just walked out of your temple right under your nose?” Sulrad demanded.

“No,” Taiez replied. “Who just walked out of my temple?”

Sulrad was tempted to burn him to a crisp, where he stood, for his insolence, but managed to control his temper. He might still get some use out of the old priest. He had so few that he could depend on. At least Taiez was merely negligent and not incompetent.

“We’ve located a pair of wizards,” he said. “A wizard and sorceress, to be exact. We believe them to be brother and sister.”

Taiez stood there looking at him without saying a word. Maybe the old priest was worth keeping around.

“The boy was in your temple last night. He’s still in Bebrook.”

“I took the magic from a boy last night, surely that was not him. He was barely worth the effort,” Taiez said.

“The boy that I am referring to came to your temple to rescue the one you took yesterday. He left empty handed, but he left. He probably walked right out under your nose.”

“Surely not, “Taiez said. His voice was shaking slightly, but he stood his ground.

“Most certainly so,” Sulrad thundered. He waited for a reaction. The old priest shook slightly, as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Sulrad waited until he felt Taiez was going to collapse in fright.

“You can still redeem yourself,” he said. “I have a task for you. It will take a significant investment of your personal power, but it will allow you to prove your loyalty and recover this regrettable situation.”

Taiez remained motionless, sweat running down his face. “What must I do?” he asked.

“We are preparing a web for the boy. You will abduct him using stealth and bind him in the web. Place him in the crypt of Azerath in Trickby.”

“Azerath?” Taiez asked. “How will we open the crypt to place him inside?”

“I have spells that will open the crypt for you. You need only to capture the boy and place the web around him. Take him back to Trickby and place him in the crypt. That will keep him occupied while we deal with his sister. Once she’s dead, he won’t be able to escape, and we will have disposed of both of them.”