The Wizard And The Dragon (10 page)

The
monster didn’t move. It didn’t cry out in pain. I was pleased that we weren’t
going to hurt it. I wasn’t exactly sure what had happened until Tower opened
the door to the jail cell and walked right in. I had a moment of shock before I
calmed myself. He had paralyzed the spider—maybe paralyze was not exact enough.
He had manipulated energy into a physical force around the legs of the creature.
It could still feel its body but was unable to move.

To
Tower it must have been a simple spell. To me it was as complicated and far
away as writing a whole paragraph by myself.

I
watched him work through the cage. He had carried a bundle of thin wooden
spindles from the tool cabinet in the cellar. He proceeded to whip them around
through the spider’s silk and wrap them around the end of the wood. They became
plump with the silk quickly, like sheets of cloth bunched around a torch.

There
was more silk than he could collect on the few spindles he had. He burned the
stray strands that were strewn from the wood and the wall with small sparks of
fire that popped out of his fingertips. When he was finished, he set the silk
down in the corner of the room, near the collapsed tunnel, and then locked up
the jail door. I felt a similar sensation as the spider was released from its
invisible shackles, but it was over much faster that time. The spider stirred a
little but made no sudden movements. I wondered if it even knew what had
happened.

The final days of
autumn were spent in the cellar. The cold was starting to seep into the tower
and we stayed underground most of the time. Tower insisted that we finish
extracting the gemstones and move most of them upstairs. He wanted to avoid
going near the tunnels as much as possible when winter arrived.

We
would sit at the cellar tables for hours working on the rocks we had hauled in
from the mines. We grinded away at the stone with chisels and hammers. I could
hardly do any of the tougher work that Tower did, but he made no sign that he
was displeased with my contributions. I chipped the gemstones free and added my
small collections to the pile.

In
less than a week we had removed all of the gems from the stones we had
excavated. We must have had over a hundred crystals. They varied in shapes and
sizes. Some were smooth and allowed light to pass through them, shining
brightly when held up to a fire. Others were rough and dark and looked more
like stained pieces of the rock we freed them from, rather than a different
material.

Despite
the heap of treasures we had accumulated, Tower was unsatisfied. When we had
exhausted the supply of stones we had brought back in the sacks, he rifled
through all of the gems as if something had gone missing throughout our work.

“What’s
wrong?” I asked.

“Something’s
not right. We should have found one.”

“One
what?”

He
muttered something and walked away from the table. He crouched down at the
collapsed tunnel entrance and started picking up some of the rocks that had
spilled into the room. He motioned for me to do the same and we were quickly
back to work with the new source of stones.

“Why
didn’t you cause a cave-in like this to begin with? Seems like it was good for
us. Lots of gems. No way for anything to crawl up and get us.”

“For
now, yes,” Tower replied. “Eventually we’ll run out and the tunnel will be open
again. We could collapse it a second time but each time the opening would
become larger. It would have a higher chance of drawing more attention. It’s
risky for us, too. An explosion might cause a much bigger collapse than you
might think.

“The
smaller tunnels are easier to seal up with spells. Each time you dig into
danger you can retreat and try a different direction. Normally a cave-in
wouldn’t happen. I was sloppy that day. It was my mistake.”

I
remembered what happened to his familiar in the mines and regretted asking my
question. I felt ashamed and wanted to change the subject. I looked down at the
rock in front of me and reached for another question.

“Why
are the gems here? Are they everywhere if you dig deep enough? Or is it because
of the tower?”

“The
opposite,” Tower said. “The tower is here because of the gems. Some of the
stone dug out of this room was used in building it, as far as I can tell.”

I
ran my eyes around the room and tried to picture people hauling slabs of stone
back up the stairs. The room had always seemed unusually large to me. It
started to make sense.

“So
the tower was built because of the gems. And the gems are the source of magic
here.”

“No,”
Tower smiled and then shook his head. “I’m sorry. The magic was first. The gems
were second.”

“I
don’t understand,” I said and tilted my head at him.

“Think
of magic like water. There’s water almost everywhere. In most places there’s
only a little water. It’s in the air, and sometimes you can see it as mist when
its cold. But there are also parts of the world where water is found in
abundance. Lakes and rivers and oceans. Magic is like that. In time, you’ll be
able to sense that for yourself.”

“There
are rivers of magic?”

“In
a manner of speaking,” Tower answered. “Let’s try an example. What’s on the
roof? What do we use to heat and light up the tower?”

“Magic,”
I said, and then quickly continued after I saw the look on his face. “There’s a
channel in the wall. The water runs through it.”

“Imagine
what would happen if there was a second channel that spiraled in the opposite
direction than the first. Sometimes the channels would intersect and cross each
other. The streams would join for a moment. Can you picture it?”

“Yes,”
I said.

“The
heat and light would merge and those points would shine brighter and radiate
more heat. Magic flows through similar channels all throughout the world,
although they are rare and far between. Sometimes they converge and, like the
water, the magic in that area is amplified. The point that they meet is very
powerful, and this is one of those places. That’s why the tower was built
here.”

“But
how do the gems get in the ground?”

“Think
of water again and what happens when you pour it onto soil. It may stay present
on top of the ground for a moment but it will soon seep in and be absorbed by
the earth. Most streams of magic flow underground to begin with, and coalesce
there when enough has accumulated. It’s a very slow process over hundreds of
years. The small gems we find would eventually get bigger if we left them down
here.”

He
reached across the table and grabbed a handful of dust. It had built up over
the week that we had been working on the stones. He held it out to me as if I
should notice something but I saw only dust.

“The
potential is even here, in the rock around the gems. It’s saturated with magic.
Watch.”

The
dust burst in a flourish of light and heat, with bright flashes of pink and
yellow. It was a brief display of magic, barely enough to register a response
from my magical focus. Despite only using a small amount of power, all of the
dust was gone from Tower’s hand.

“It’s
a tiny bit of magic, but it’s there. The gems leech most of it. Would you like
to try?”

He
scooped up another handful and offered it to me. I shook my head.

“It’s
a lot like fire. I don’t think I’m ready,” I said quickly, trying to avoid
admitting that I was afraid. “Is that okay?”

Tower
nodded once. He tossed the dust over his shoulder and it crackled and popped in
the air, leaving streaks of smoke where they ignited. He put his hand on my
head and ruffled my hair.

We
continued to pull rocks out of the tunnel for the rest of the day. I found
myself wondering at the amount of power that had been focused at the monster
that day. There were more loose rocks that I could count and more being
revealed each time we moved the top layer away. I thought that the tunnel had
only suffered a cave-in, but I soon saw that a crater had formed in the floor
from the force of the explosion.

The
pathway into the mines was sealed tight with a clump of larger rocks. Smaller
ones were crushed and squeezed together so that nothing could be seen through
any of the gaps. I wondered how far in the collapse had run and how many years
worth of gemstone could be taken from it. Perhaps Tower was worried that the
tunnel may be sealed permanently. I was worried that the seal may not last and
we’d have to venture back into the dark.

Somewhere
underneath the piles of rock were the remains of  the monster that chased Tower
back into the cellar. I wanted to ask about it many times but merely thinking
about it was enough to frighten me. Each time we moved a rock I was afraid that
I’d catch a glimpse of its body or face. The dragon-like snout and vacant eyes.
I felt more comfortable next to the spider’s cell than the tunnel.

It
was near the end of the day when Tower found what he thought had gone missing.
He heaved a particularly large chunk of stone onto the work table. It was heavy
enough that I saw him straining to carry it across the room. It landed with a
loud crash and he stepped back, breathing heavily but grinning at his work.

“That’s
more like it. Do you see it?” he asked.

I
walked around the table and studied the rock closely. I felt like I was being
tested and I didn’t like to fall below Tower’s expectations. Reluctantly, I had
to admit that I didn’t see anything special about the rock. If anything it
seemed more ordinary and mundane than the others. I couldn’t even see any
gemstones shimmering amongst the stone. I said as much to Tower and his grin
grew wider.

“Ah,
but that’s exactly it,” he said excitedly. “Look again now. Feel with your
magic. Draw your focus over the rock and tell me what you find.”

I
gathered myself and concentrated on the stone. I felt the comforting sliding of
my focus as I made a connection to the stone, like I was staring intently at it
with my magic. To my surprise, I felt a vast amount of power coming from it.
Tower had taught me that some gemstones were denser than others, and that size
was not always the most important factor in judging a source of power. The
stone felt full of more magic than any gem we had found.

“Very
good,” Tower said after seeing the shock on my face. “You’re getting better.
There’s something special inside this stone. It’s rare, but sometimes magic
will condense in just the right way that it forms a new material. It’s called
sollite, and it’s capable of holding tremendous amounts of magic. It will draw
from sources around itself and absorb all of the power. That’s why there are no
gemstones on this rock. The sollite sucked all of the magic from it.”

He
held up a hand to the stone and I saw it vibrate in response to his focus. He
made it look so effortless to attune himself to the magic around him. I thought
then, like I would many times, that I would be happy to be even half as good as
Tower.

Cracks
began to form on the outside of the stone. The fissures spread out over it like
they were being drawn by some unseen hand. I had seen Tower split open rocks
before but this was a much slower process. He was being careful, carving out
small pieces and then pulling them out individually.

When
the rock was about a third of its former size, Tower caused it to levitate
above the work table. It began to rotate in the air, and I saw layers of the
stone break off in concentrated sprays of dust. It looked like sand being
tossed around in a wind around the stone, being siphoned off and dropped onto
the table. Each moment that passed cause the stone to shrink further until
there was only a small object left in the air.

Tower
set the sollite down gently and it nestled on top of the pile of dust on the
table. The sollite looked different than I expected. I imagined something
closer to the gemstones but it resembled a chestnut. The outside was sleek and
the light was caught on its surface in a white sheen. It was about the size of
an acorn and the same rich brown color.

“It’s
been many years since I’ve found some of this,” Tower said and stepped closer
to the table. “I’ve read that there was a fair amount of sollite down here when
they first built the tower. Some of it was used to create items. Trinkets for
spells and storing magic.”

He
reached over the table and plucked one of the gemstones from the pile. He
slowly lowered it down toward the sollite until they touched. There was some
sort of reaction that I sensed only with my magical focus. Even without being
centered and concentrated on the table, I still felt something akin to a flash
of light blind my focus for a few seconds. The gemstone was gone. It was
absorbed at the point of contact.

He
felt at his belt for the dagger he kept sheathed there. He withdrew it and held
it out to the sollite on the table. I stepped closer. It was the first time he
had drawn the dagger since I had met him. I saw that it looked similar to the
sollite on the table. It was the same deep brown, although the dagger looked to
have lighter patches scattered on its surface. It seemed to move in the
candlelight, as if it was interacting with the light and moving with it.

“This
was in the tower when, well,” he stopped and looked down at the table. “When I
first came here, I found this,” he spoke again, firmer this time. “It was one
of the only pieces of sollite I had until now. I’ve only read about other
pieces in books.”

He
leaned over the table and moved the dagger toward the pile of gemstones. I had
a closer look as it moved. It looked more like an ornament than a weapon. It
looked too blunt to be used to cut anything, and even the end point looked
dull.

I
wondered what the use of a decorative dagger would be until Tower tapped it
against one of the gems. I felt another flash hurtle against my magical sense.
I was closer this time and had a moment of similar disorientation that came
when a sudden loud noise blasted too close to my ears. The gemstone was gone
and its magic was now part of the dagger, waiting to be used later.

“This
piece will be yours, I think,” Tower stated while he sheathed his dagger.

“What?”

“I
want you to have it. Keep it in your room. Not too close to your candle or it
may steal the fire away. Be careful that you don’t try to channel any magic
when you’re holding it. It may drain a lot of your energy and you’ll have to
sleep for a few days.”

I
looked at him blankly for a few minutes. Being entrusted with a book had been
one thing, but being given a potentially dangerous item was something else
entirely. I thought of the large gemstone that Tower had in the corner of his
study. I thought of how he wanted me not to touch it. He handed me the
acorn-shaped sollite now and I expected it to burn my hands when I held it.

“Don’t
be too afraid, Bryce,” he said and smiled at me. “There is a book here written
by the first occupant of the tower, someone who helped build it. A lot of the
sollite they extracted down here was used in the walls. It draws up magic and
was used in spells and items. That’s how the candles stay lit and produce
heat.”