The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal) (36 page)

“I would rather not, Mister Karell,” he answered quietly.  Test failed.

“Are you serious?  Mister?  Really?”  Ithan’s cheeks somehow grew redder.  I hadn’t thought it possible.  “Just call me Korin, please.  Listen, I know what’s going on out there, and I know you’re worried about them.  Maybe talking about them will make you feel a little better.  If it’ll help, I can tell you a little about why I’m going to Gualain.”

“I think I heard enough from Saiyre and your conversation with Max,” Ithan replied with a shrug.

It hadn’t occurred to me that Ithan had overheard
everything
Max and I had talked about.  Ithan had been so quiet riding ahead of us that I’d almost forgotten he was even there during most of the afternoon.  No wonder he didn’t want to talk about his family; I’d probably worried him to death with my talk about the undead and the green rocks.

So I changed course and told him about my own family: Mathual and Harriet Karell, my adoptive parents.  I told him of the dreams about my birth parents that prompted me to go out into the world to find them.  Somehow, I ended up spilling my guts about everything. 
Literally everything.  Well, an abridged version of it, anyway.  I avoided everything I could about Max, such as his past as Jonasir Spensolin, his soul transfer from cat to squirrel, and pretty much anything about his magic.  I didn’t relish letting a Wizard Academy wizard know about Max’s abilities. 

“That is quite a story,” Ithan said after I’d finished, his eyes locked firmly on mine.  If he found any of my
story hard to believe, he didn’t show it.  “I understand why Saiyre asked me to help you.”  He turned away, thoughtful.  “Though, if what you and Max talked about is true, and you have feelings for Salmaea, and she for you—” 

“Is that Oliph’s Monolith up ahead?” I interrupted, gesturing to the massive, human-shaped statue rising in the distance.  I was a bit irritated that Ithan would bring up the subject of my feelings for Sal’, but at same time, I was impressed at how he’d spoken so much with no mumbles whatsoever.  That was cause enough for me to overlook his treading on such a delicate subject.

Ithan nodded.  Then, unexpectedly, he said, “My family lives in Bards Crossing, a smaller town in central Gualain, just west of Bherin, the capital.  My mother is a homebody, but my father is a physick.  I also have two younger sisters, Olivia and Madelyne, though I do not even know if they have left home by now or not.  I am the only wizard in the family.”  As we closed the distance to Oliph’s Monolith, he told me about his life and how his timid nature had led him to become an Archivist.  My plan had worked better than I’d thought. 

“I have not seen my family in so many years.  I just hope that they are okay,” he continued in a whisper.  Given the look in his eyes, I figured the softness of his voice was probably more from the pain of the subject matter than shyness.  “They are so close to Bherin . . .”

Ithan’s worry over his family shot pangs of empathy through my body.  “Don’t lose hope, Ithan,” I told him.  “I’m scared about what I’ll find when I get to Gualain as well, but I hold on to hope to keep me going.” 

Ithan nodded with an appreciative smile, and we continued on in silence.  After being so open with me, I decided to give him some time with his thoughts.  He needed it.  I did too.  I wasn’t used to having such serious conversation without some sarcasm or wit thrown in along the way.  I blame Max.

We finally arrived at the towering statue of a robed man holding his arms to his sides, his palms facing the sky.  The statue had the same metallic sheen as the Wizard Academy’s exterior.

“So this is Oliph’s Monolith,” I mused.  “Why is it so far from the Academy?”

Ithan started to answer inaudibly before catching himself.  “Sorry, I am still not used to extended conversation.”  He grinned bashfully.  I couldn’t help but feel a little proud of Ithan’s social progress over such a short time.

“This is where Oliph Anwith was named the first Grand Wizard,” Ithan continued.  There were rumors of a group of wizards who did not agree with bestowing such a powerful position upon a single man and planned to prevent his ascension to the Grand Wizard title by means of assassination.  Therefore, the ceremony was held clandestinely, far from Auslin.  The statue was created using stone from the Glacial Mountains to commemorate the historic occasion.”

“So the Academy . . .”

“Was built directly into one of the mountains.
  The rest of Auslin was crafted from stone mined from them.”

As I digested Ithan’s words, we took the horses well off the road to set up a makeshift camp where we could wait for Til’ and Briscott.  Ithan had nearly as much trouble dismounting Windmane as mounting him.  It was a wonder he’d been able to ride at all. 

Max was still sleeping as I settled the abelyr box on the ground and started rifling through my saddlebags.  The dragon carving that Til’ had made for me to give to my adoptive father was still safe and sound.  All of my other belongings were present, including my leather-bound journal.  I took out one of my blankets and wrapped it around my shoulders.  I also pulled out Sal’s writings, considering reading them.  Instead, I stuffed them back.  I didn’t know if I could handle what I’d find in them.

Though it was barely evening, we started a fire to keep warm while we waited.  We took seats before the fire on another of my blankets, letting the flames leech the cold from our bones. 

Ithan pointed to the abelyr box in front of me.  “Are you ready to get Max out of there?  We should be more than far enough from the Academy now.” 

I answered with an emphatic nod, passing him the box.

Ithan opened the larger box, a process that required magic of some sort.  He then opened the first of the boxes within, revealing Xalis’s tiny, red-scaled body encased in the translucent blue sphere created from one of Bhaliel’s tears.  His membranous wings were pressed tightly to his sides. 

Ithan held the dragon child before his eyes in awe.  “I would never have believed I would ever gaze upon such a sight in my lifetime,” he stated reverently. 
“Such beauty.”  He handed Xalis to me. 

“Yes,” I agreed, also awestruck as I took in Xalis.  I gently laid him beside me on the blanket.

“Saiyre told me some of what Salmaea learned about the dragons.  Between that and what you have told me, I cannot believe what we wizards have done to their kind.”  Ithan shook his head.

“The past can’t be changed, but maybe a better future can be made for the dragons,” I replied, surprised at how profound my statement sounded.

My eyes shot to the road, a flicker of motion in my periphery catching my attention.  I hoped to see Til’ and Briscott, but I only saw three travelers on horseback who passed without paying us any mind.  When I turned back, Ithan was holding the last abelyr box.  I heard some light scratching and a soft moan sound from within.

I allowed myself a small smile.  “Be careful with that one,” I advised, nodding to the abelyr box.  “Max is a tad moody.”

“I am no such thing,” Max’s raspy voice immediately retorted, muffled through the box.  “If anyone here is moody, it is Mr. Broody Pants over there, with all his talk about the love of his life being betrothed to another.”

Max’s vexation brought a wide grin to my face, just like old times. “On second thought, Ithan, just leave him in there a while longer.  If we’re lucky, he’ll run out of air.”

Ithan’s amber eyes looked to me in confusion.  “You cannot see the holes, but I assure you the box is well ventilated.”  Ithan hadn’t caught my joke.  I broke into rich laughter.  It felt good.

“Do not listen to Korin, Ithan.  Let me out of here, now!”  Hearing Max’s raspy voice
squeak as he became even more flustered just made me laugh all the harder.  Ithan looked to be at a complete loss as to what he should do.

“Go ahead and let him out,” I chuckled.

Ithan shrugged and opened the magically sealed lid.  Max leapt from the box, landing with his bushy tail raised high.  He wildly scampered in circles, his dark, beady eyes taking in everything around him as if worried that someone would try to shove him back into the box.  At first I found it funny, but when he finally stilled, my laughter died.

Max looked bad. 
Really bad.  From where I sat just an arm’s length from where he’d landed, I could see that his rodent cheeks and stomach were sunken, the ridges of his spine and ribs visible beneath his thin coat of too-dull cinnamon fur. 

I quickly scooted forward and scooped Max up in my hand, thoroughly looking him over.  Even for a squirrel, he felt too light.  “Max, what did they do to you?” 

“As I told you, they fed me squirrel food and took about all of my blood . . . and some organ tissue, too, I believe,” he responded flatly.  “Now, you can either continue holding me like I am your pet, or you can put me down and get me some food.  For your own health, I would suggest the latter.” 

Fleet suddenly screeched
, drawing Max’s attention to the featherswift owl now perched atop the larger abelyr box.  Her wings were stretched out from her sides, her raptorial eyes focused hungrily on him.  It was probably a good thing Fleet was still tethered to Ithan’s glove. 

“And keep that
thing
away from me,” Max snapped.  Fleet let out a squawk of protest, angrily flapping her wings.

I gave Max a half-hearted smile and retrieved some bread, cheese, and dried meat.  Max tore into it with gusto.  Ithan just stared wide-eyed at Max.  He mumbled something.

“Just because there’s a magic talking wizard squirrel present doesn’t mean you can go all quiet on me again,” I said, smiling to show I wasn’t too serious.  I had Max back.  He looked like hell, but he was okay.  Ithan could mumble all he wanted.

Ithan shook his head.  “Sorry.  I was saying that I do not understand how this is possible.”  He gestured to Max.  “At the Academy, they could find nothing to indicate you were anything more than a typical squirrel.  How is it that you can talk and use magic?”

Max stopped in the middle of a big bite of hard bread.  “Who says I can use magic?”

“The wizards who brought you to the Academy claimed you used magic on them.  Wizards of the Third Rank would
not
make such accusations lightly.”  Ithan broke out into a boyish grin.  “That, and Korin just called you a magic talking wizard squirrel.”  He hid a chuckle behind his hand.  Apparently he did have a sense of humor. 

I cringed.  There went trying to keep Max’s abilities secret. 

Max gave me a glare that would’ve made even the most curmudgeonly hag jealous and then stood upon his hind legs.  He gave a sweeping bow.  “My name is Max and I am a wizard.  My mother was a ground squirrel sorceress, and my father was a red squirrel with an attitude.  Hence, me.”  He gave a dramatic flourish with his bony arms and dropped back down to the bread.  I was pretty sure he muttered “lunkhead” as he went back to his food.

Ithan let out a laugh that just sounded wrong, as if he were just doing it for the first time.  In all reality, after a decade in the Vault, maybe he’d forgotten how to.  His laughter was like a combination of coughing and dog barking. 

“Well, Max,” Ithan began after his odd laughter died, “I have no orders to bring you back.  Apparently you, the dragon, and a cartload of laboratory property were all stolen by some wizard gone mad.  There will be an investigation for a few weeks, but nothing will come of it.  You may keep your secrets if you wish, but if you ever want to share them, I will not tell a soul.”

Max stopped mid-chew.  “Okay, you got me; my father was actually a brown squirrel.” 

“Told you he was moody,” I laughed, clapping Ithan on the back.  Ithan just about fell over, but laughed along with me.  Max glared, but continued eating with fervor.

Once Max was finished, his distended stomach making him appear haler, he climbed onto my lap as I sat cross-legged before the fire.  “Show me where they put the magic rock you spoke of,” he commanded.

Despite the cold and not wanting to see the physical reminder of my days with Kait’ and Jefren, I pulled up my shirt.  The large, puffy scar stood out prominently on my chest.  Just seeing it again sent phantom pains stabbing through both my chest and head.

“Whoever healed this has no business practicing curative magic,” Max said with a shake of his head.
  “So you’re saying that the magic of the rock forced you to follow this Jefren’s orders?” Max asked.  I nodded.  “Tell me everything again in full detail.” 

Max listened to my story again, his beady eyes locked gravely on mine.  Ithan scooted closer, listening as I relived the worst days of my life. 

“Are you okay, Korin?” Max inquired.  It wasn’t until he’d spoken that I realized I’d gone silent and was staring blankly into the fire.  I’d been in the middle of recalling what had happened with the brigands and it appeared that my mind had retreated from the subject.

“I . . . yes, I’m fine,” I lied, the pain tying my insides in knots.

“I am sorry you had to go through that.”  Max’s words were sincere, his expression serious.  Well, serious in his own squirrely way, at least.

I smiled appreciatively, though I was certain my eyes didn’t join my lips.  “
Thanks, Max.  I think I understand what you meant when you said I’d need to be able to deal with such things back when I fought Menar’s men.  With Raijom and the war . . . this won’t end without bloodshed.”