The High-Wizard's Hunt: Osric's Wand: Book Two (11 page)

“The last thing I remember is going to sleep on the beach. I feel like I have been spelled.” He rubbed his temples as he spoke. “Where are we?”

“We be a short flight from me home,” Machai said, indicating the steep mountains rising up to the north. Thamas looked at him suspiciously and walked past Treethorn to get a better look at their surroundings. The sky was just beginning to lighten and the land stretched out beneath them in a sea of glittering snow. Icicles swayed from the tree branches like crystal chandeliers and Thamas’ breath drifted away from him in visible clouds. He stared out over the landscape with an expression of deep concentration, and when he turned back he smiled and joined Machai at the campfire.

“Well, I must have hit my head, like you said,” he watched Machai closely as he spoke, “I am sure I will feel better soon.”

Machai was surprised that Thamas had been convinced so easily that his memory had failed him, but he was glad to shift the conversation away from his deception.

“Aye, breakfast should be helping.” He dished a bowl of oats and berries from the pot simmering at the edge of the fire and passed it to his companion. “We’ll be leaving shortly.”

“Wonderful, I look forward to meeting your kin.”

They finished their morning meal in silence and loaded their gear back onto Treethorn’s rigging. After they were securely strapped in, Treethorn took flight with a rapid ascent into the crisp air. The chill wind stung their cheeks and made their eyes water as they huddled in their seats for the brief flight. Treethorn approached the mountains and Machai directed her to circle around a sharp peak and land in the small valley beyond.

The hollow was protected from the wind, and the air seemed a bit warmer as they dismounted. A swift flowing stream snaked down the mountainside and cascaded over a small ridge behind them. Machai unloaded their gear and Thamas stretched his stiff limbs and stood in awe at the beauty of the landscape. The trees were dusted with snow but there was abundant greenery on the most sheltered side of the valley. Towering evergreen trees stood like sentinels along the mountainside, with the branches nearest the ground many paces over Thamas’ head. A strange vine climbed the mighty trunks of the trees, with silver sheened leaves and delicate white flowers. Thamas reached out his fingers and touched one of the blossoms, and he was startled to hear Machai’s voice from directly behind him.

“Fairie tears.”

“What?” Thamas turned toward Machai in confusion.

“The flowers be fairie tears. They be full of power, to be healing and to be harming.” Machai eyed the vines with a mix of wonder and pride. “The harvesting process be tricky. It be a fine line between healing essence and wicked poison.” Thamas took a step back from the dangerous sounding plant and Machai laughed, his deep rumble echoing off the nearby peaks. “I’ll be teaching ye. I need to be refilling me salve.” Machai hefted the gear and gold he had unloaded from Treethorn and nodded at Thamas to follow him toward a shaded path beneath the boughs of the largest trees. Frosted grass crunched beneath their boots as they walked along the thin trail to a narrow crevice in the mountainside. After several paces down the natural stone tunnel, Machai paused for a moment and set the bags on the ground. He stretched his arms to either side and placed his palms against the cold stone walls. The sky was a slim, blue streak far above their heads.

“It be good to be home.” Thamas smiled at the dwarf’s sentimental action and then reached down and hefted one of the bags Machai had been carrying. Machai pulled his wand out and lit the tip to give them more light to see by. He picked up the bag of gold in his free hand and continued through the narrow tunnel. The path twisted along into the mountainside and then began to broaden. They came to a halt before a massive, bronze door. The metal was aged and weathered, and there were no hinges or handles to be seen.

Intricate carvings covered the surface, depicting scenes of the mountains, trees, animals, weapons, and a stronghold of some sort with a dragon perched on one tower. Thamas eyed the detailed images with awe, having never seen such delicate work emblazoned on what was obviously ancient metal.

“Who carved these images, Machai?”

“I be not knowing who, but it be me ancestors who be settling in this mountain.” Machai looked up at the door with pride. “They be telling the story of me clan, if ye be knowing how to see it.”

“I would like to hear that story sometime.” Machai nodded at the respectful tone in his companion’s voice, and he lowered the bag of gold to the ground and held up his wand. Machai placed his free hand against the cold, bronze door and closed his eyes. Thamas watched as the light from Machai’s wand grew brighter and his fingertips on the metal began to glow. After a moment, he drew his hand away, leaving a luminescent print of his hand upon the door. The glowing handprint flared briefly, then faded away, and the door swung open silently to admit them.

Machai stepped through the entrance, nodding his head at Thamas to follow. They walked only a few strides when a cool rush of air caused Thamas to glance back as the door swung closed behind them. The only light came from the tip of Machai’s wand so Thamas stepped carefully over the unfamiliar ground. The passage was wide enough for four men to walk abreast, and the stone beneath their feet was smooth and seamless. Thamas reached out and touched the wall to his left, surprised at the warmth of the stone so near the wintry ice outside.

“It’s warm.”

“Aye, ye’ll be warm enough, so long as ye be staying inside.” Machai grinned at the look of shock on Thamas’ face. “Me home be full of surprises, eh?”

The walls were as smooth as the stone floor and stretched up beyond the light of Machai’s wand, leaving Thamas with the feeling that he was stuck at the bottom of a great chasm. A few more strides down the passageway, Machai stopped, holding his arm out to keep Thamas from progressing. Thamas glanced down and saw that the floor ended just ahead of them. The walls were continuous, but the floor just stopped, leaving an inky, black gap at their feet.

“What now?”

“Now, ye be seeing the true ingenuity of me dwarven ancestors.” Machai held his wand out over the great chasm and placed his palm on a well worn space along the right wall. He focused his thoughts on the spell, and again a glowing handprint flared momentarily on the wall. A subtle rumble could be heard from somewhere beneath them, and soon a large, stone platform rose up to fill the gap ahead of them.

“Ye should never be trying to summon the lift. If ye be trying, and the wall be not knowing yer hand, ye be getting a barrage of arrows instead of stone for yer feet.” Machai laughed at the brilliant defense system and stepped onto the platform. “What do ye be waiting for? Come on, it’ll be holding ye.”

“How does it work?” Thamas hesitated before stepping tentatively out onto the stone slab.

“Magic.” Machai grinned. “Ye be seeing those holes in the stone, there?” Machai pointed at four holes, about a hand span around, in the center of the platform.

“Yes?”

“There be a system of pulleys that be running the stone up and down this shaft. Ye just can’t be seeing them, as that would be giving it away to intruders.”

“Invisible pulley system?” Disbelief was obvious in Thamas’ tone.

“Aye, invisible pulley system.” Machai tapped his wand on the stone at his feet and the platform began to sink slowly into the shaft.

“How did they do it? Your ancestors, I mean.”

“Bah, if I be telling ye that, me kin would be having me head.”

“Ah.” Thamas suspected that Machai had no idea how they had accomplished the feat. “Magic?”

“Right. Magic.”

They passed several more passageways as they traveled down into the mountain on the lift before finally coming to rest. Thamas had not seen any indication of how Machai had made the lift stop, and he was fascinated by the new magic.

They stepped off the platform, into a passage much like the entrance, but headed deeper into the mountain. Several chambers opened up off the hallway and the temperature of the air increased as they walked. Thamas glanced through the doorways, and curious dwarves who noticed them passing stared back at him.

“Machai!” A young female stepped out of a doorway just ahead of them with a joyous expression. “Ye be back.”

“Aye, Chara, I be back.” Their voices echoed off the stone around them, yet the sound seemed to travel slower than normal. The effect of being underground was disorienting to Thamas as he listened to the conversation.

“Ye be gone so long, I be thinking ye were dead.”

“I be not so easy to kill, but more than a few times I be wondering meself,” Machai grumbled.

“Ye should be coming by the workshop later. I be finishing me first amulet.”

“Aye, I’ll be seeing it.” Machai nodded over at Thamas. “This be Thamas, former Contege of the Stanton Vigiles. He be accompanying me on me journey.” She smiled shyly as Machai resumed walking, and Chara walked along next to Thamas.

“You make amulets?”

“Aye.”

“Chara be making more than amulets. She be an Imbuer.”

“A what?”

“An Imbuer. She be capable of imbuing magic into stone or metal.”

“Like the blades at Braya?”

“Aye,” Machai growled at the reminder of the mission that had taken him to the volcano in the first place. He had been sent to deliver a shipment of Dwarven swords imbued with elemental fire. He hadn’t known that the swords were being used for such a disdainful purpose until after he successfully made the delivery.

“Can ye be seeing the strands, Thamas?” Chara asked in excitement.

“No, I am no Wand-Maker, just an old Telepath.”

“Aye, an Imbuer be much like a Wand-Maker,” Machai said with sudden realization. “I never be thinking of the two as the same.” They walked through a large archway at the end of the passage and entered a huge cavern lined with wooden tables and benches. A couple dozen dwarves were gathered in the chamber, eating, drinking, and talking. Chara offered to go get them all something to eat, and indicated that Thamas should take a seat at a nearby table. Machai glanced across the chamber at a bronze door much smaller than the one at the entrance to the mountain but just as elaborately decorated.

“I need to be speaking with Thenar. Ye be waiting here with Chara.” Thamas nodded and sat down on a low wooden bench as Machai stomped off angrily, his footsteps echoing from the distant stone ceiling. He paused briefly at the door, preparing himself for the confrontation he feared was to come.

Machai entered the room and was greeted by the aroma of roasted meat and mead. Thenar stood and slapped Machai on the shoulder, sloshing the honey wine over the rim of his goblet.

“Welcome home. I be expecting ye back much sooner, but I be trusting ye’r journey be successful,” Thenar stated jovially. Machai dropped the bag of gold on the low table with a heavy clink.

“Aye, ye could be saying that,” Machai responded. “But that be blood money. Ye should never have been sending me with weapons to the likes of those men.”

“What? Did ye not be making friends with the humans that be filling our coffers with gold?”

“Friends?” Machai spat on the ground in disgust. “They be monsters!”

“I do not be liking humans much, meself. They be too soft. But if they be rich, who be I to be turning down such a sale?”

“They be funded by the crown. And they be using our steel to enslave dragons,” Machai spoke low and quiet, but his tone carried the hatred he felt.

“Dragons?”

“Aye, dragons. Nearly fifty of ‘em, caged and mistreated to enforce their kin to be flying around with ignorant passengers for a fee! And we be providing ‘em with dwarven blades. How do ye not be knowing who ye be arming?” Machai just barely managed to keep his voice below a shout.

“How in stone’s blood should I be knowing about the dragons?” Thenar asked defensively. “If I be knowing the humans be caging dragons, I would be delivering me blade meself, straight to the cowards’ hearts!”

“Aye. Lucky be him that the dragons be free,” Machai replied. “I be arriving on one of the elders that be caged. I fought alongside the wizard that be freeing them, before we be returning with ye’r gold.” Thenar tugged on his long, gray beard as he took in the information.

“Well, if the dragons be free, then we need not be worrying where our weapons be headed, aye?”

“What do ye mean?” Machai demanded.

“The humans be ordering more weapons soon after ye be leaving for Braya,” Thenar stated.

“Ye cannot be sending the blades,” Machai said urgently.

“It be too late to be calling it back. Besides, ye say the dragons be free.”

“How many weapons did they request?”

“Two hundred thousand of our finest weapons. We be gaining enough gold to keep our clan fed for a generation,” Thenar said, a hint of excitement in his voice. He slid a paper across the table for Machai to see, and the official seal caught his eye.

“Stones! Ye be supplying an army! There must be a way to be stopping the delivery.” Machai began pacing the room, considering the implications of the massive order of weapons.

“No, it be arriving in a day or two in Rowain, and we be needing the gold.”

“The humans be starting a war. If ye stop the shipment it may be stalling them long enough for Osric to be stopping them!” Machai argued.

“Eh, their war be no matter of ours,” Thenar said with a wave of his hand. “I willn’t be turning down the gold to be meddling in human affairs.”

“But ye must! When the war these men be fighting be reaching ye’r door, then will ye be listening to me?” Machai shouted, glaring angrily at the other dwarf.

“Ye be on soft ground too long, Machai. No war be breaching Firefall’s door.” The old dwarf scowled at Machai. “I willn’t be calling back the shipment. Do not be forgetting ye’r place in this clan, nor mine,” Thenar growled in restrained anger and authority. Machai slammed his fist down on the table, toppling the pitcher of mead, and spun and walked from the room.

Thamas sat talking in the dining hall with Chara, but he hurried after Machai at the scowl on the dwarf’s face when he strode through the room and headed out into the main passageway. Machai was grumbling under his breath and Thamas had a hard time matching his pace in the unfamiliar tunnels. “He be a fool. No good will be coming of those weapons being in human hands. There must be something we can be doing. If Thenar willn’t be stopping them, then it be up to me,” Machai mumbled, ignoring Thamas’ presence and stepping back onto the lift. He activated the pulley system and Thamas waited quietly for an explanation of his meeting with Thenar. The lift groaned softly as it climbed the shaft of the mountain, up past the entrance with the massive, bronze door. It continued up further still until it stopped their ascent just as they rose above the rim of the chasm and crisp evening air chilled his skin. Thamas stood in awe of what he saw as they stepped off the lift. The sun was just setting behind the western peaks and the snow and ice in the valley below them blazed with red and orange light. It looked as though lava was flowing down the mountainsides and all of the trees were like frozen flames. Thamas understood where the FireFalls clan got its name. Machai took a deep breath of mountain air and spoke as calmly as he could. “I will be explaining everything, but first I must be contacting Osric. I be afraid we will not be staying long at me home.”