Wizard Pair (Book 3) (29 page)

"He wants you to bring forth fire to prove you're a Wizard." Garlath said.

Zhimosom focused his mind on the man's hand and silently spoke the spell to call forth fire. A fireball the size of his fist appeared in the man's hand. He quickly extinguished it.

"Not one for control, are you?" The librarian reached his hand out to Rotiaqua.

She called forth a simple flame like the one you would see on any candle and just as quickly extinguished it.

"Nice control." The librarian sat back behind his desk. "What can I help you locate today?"

"We need to help the dragons," Zhimosom blurted out.

"Dragons? What dragons?"

"A dragon came to us and asked for our help."

The librarian gave a smug, superior smile. "The dragons are gone. They left ages ago and have not returned."

"We saw one. More than once."

"There are no dragons, and if there were, they certainly don't need help from any
junior
Wizard."

"He came to us ..."

Garlath held out his arm to stop Zhimosom. "We are looking for something to defeat a summoning or binding spell."

"For that, you'll need to access the spells of war. You'll need permission from the Council. Those spells are dangerous and we don't let just anyone back there."

The librarian returned to his notations and ignored them.

"But ..." Zhimosom started to speak, but Garlath stopped him before he could get it out.

"Thank you for your time," Garlath said. "We will seek the Council's approval."

Garlath grabbed Zhimosom's arm and pulled him back the way they had come. "I know it's important, but you can't make a scene here, in the library. It's frowned upon."

"Why won't they let us search those spells? We need to find a way to save the dragons. Why was he so rude?"

"It's not his fault. All he sees is a young Wizard who was refused access to some very dangerous magic. It's not up to him. We need to see the Council, and it's better that they don't start with a reprimand for breaking Library protocol."

Garlath took them back to the main building and escorted them to the dormitory where visiting Wizards were housed. The rooms looked much more elegant than the hovel where he'd been raised.

"Sorry, you'll have to share a room with several other young Wizards," Garlath told Zhimosom.

He turned to Rotiaqua. "You have your own room. There are no other Sorceresses in Amedon at the moment."

"None?" Rotiaqua asked.

"Besides Uskin, there are only two others, but they are both very senior Sorceresses and have their own quarters outside Amedon. They travel here by magic when needed, but don't live here. Only Uskin lives here."

"Who's Uskin?" Rotiaqua asked.

"She is the head of the Wizards' Council, along with Alwroth. I've made arrangements for you two to meet with them tonight."

"Are Sorceresses that rare?" Zhimosom asked.

"Very rare," Garlath said. "That's why they want to meet with you."

"You mean meet with Rotiaqua." Zhimosom felt uncomfortable around all these powerful folk. He knew Rotiaqua was used to this type of attention, but he found it unsettling. If sorceresses were rare and Rotiaqua was one of the few, and she was the daughter of the Baron, they certainly would want to speak with her, but certainly they didn't want to speak to him.

"Both of you," Garlath said. "Right after the evening meal."

Zhimosom and Rotiaqua followed Garlath to the Council chambers after the evening meal. The clerk instructed them to wait, but they were soon ushered into a room off to the side. Alwroth and Uskin were seated before a small fireplace in well worn and comfortable chairs. It looked more like a sitting room in a wealthy family's home than the chamber of the senior Wizards in Amedon.

Alwroth had a long white beard and flowing hair. His face was wizened and wrinkled. Zhimosom thought he looked much like any other Wizard, but Uskin was a surprise. Garlath had told Zhimosom that Alwroth and Uskin had ruled the Council for decades, but Uskin looked no older than Rotiaqua.

"It's part of her special magic. She doesn't age." Garlath explained.

The clerk motioned for them to sit.

"Thank you for coming back so late in the day."

There was an awkward silence as Zhimosom waited for more. He didn't know what to say. He reached out for Rotiaqua and spoke silently to her over their magical link.

"What do you think they want? Are we supposed to say something?"

"Just wait," came her reply.

The Sorceress leaned over to the Wizard. "They're so young, aren't they?" She smiled at them.

"Tell us about your experience," Uskin said. She leaned forward and looked at Zhimosom, waiting for his response.

"Rotiaqua can tell it best." Zhimosom was embarrassed. He was not accustomed to speaking to mighty ones.

"A Wizard named Sulrad showed up in my father's lands. He set himself up as the Priest of Ran. I've seen him work his magic, and it’s just magic, there's no god, no Ran involved.

"He discovered that we had magic and tried to sacrifice Zhimosom to take his power. That's what he does, kills people for magic. We saw him kill a young Wizard and take the boy's magic."

"And a girl," Zhimosom interrupted.

Rotiaqua winced. Zhimosom knew she still felt the guilt of dissuading Zhimosom from trying to rescue Brill. "An orphan, Brill. She was only ten summers old."

Zhimosom sat quietly and let Rotiaqua continue, but listened intently ready to fill in any details she might have missed.

"We escaped from the Temple," Rotiaqua continued. "All we wanted was to get away from Sulrad and my father, but while we were on our way, a dragon came and told us to go to Tustow and find the Wizard."

Rotiaqua gestured at Garlath. "That's where we met Garlath. Along the way, the dragon came back. He told us that Sulrad had discovered a way to kill the dragons and take their power and that the dragons needed our help."

Uskin frowned. "I have had visions much the same. What you say is true. You must find a way to help the dragons."

"That's why we came here," Zhimosom added. "To learn how we can stop Sulrad and save the dragons."

"You have come to the right place," Alwroth said. "We will convene the Wizards' Council as soon as we can and discuss the matter with them.

"We also have another reason for asking you to come see us," Alwroth said.

"We asked you here because the two are paired, and as a pair, there is special training you require that few can give you. Only another pair truly knows what you are experiencing and can teach you what you need to know."

Zhimosom opened his mouth to speak, but Alwroth held up his hand. "I know you're young and you have a lot of questions. You have plenty of time to learn, and you have come to the right place."

He waved towards the main gate. "Most of our students arrive by foot, or infrequently on horseback. It's unheard of to have a student travel here by magic."

Zhimosom squirmed in his seat. He hadn't wanted to attract attention.

"Yes, your arrival was duly noted and reported, as was your request at the library today." Alwroth leaned forward and placed his fist beneath his long white beard, propping up his head. "Tell me about this dragon you saw."

Zhimosom and Rotiaqua related the tale of their encounters with the dragon, and what it had said to them each time it appeared.

"If what you say is true, then it could be very bad. We'll need to meet with the full Council and discuss this. We cannot decide this on our own."

"There's no time!" Zhimosom said. The Council had to act immediately, before Sulrad has a chance to put his plan into action.

"Time is short for one so young. When you get to be my age, you'll realize that time is all you have. I'm sure it can wait. The Council will meet. We will discuss it."

"But it won't wait. The dragon said they were in danger..."

"It will have to wait. The full Council must meet on this. It's out of our hands until they do, but I can offer you access to the library, so you can search for the proper spells in the mean time."

"But the dragons?" Zhimosom wasn't ready to let the matter go.

"Take the offer," Uskin spoke softly to Zhimosom. "We'll do what we can, but you need patience.

"We would also like to work with you as a pair. Can you come to see us each day, just after the evening meal? We can show you how to use your powers to their fullest and how the pairing works." She looked from Rotiaqua over to Zhimosom. "Would that be acceptable?"

Before they could answer, the door burst open. A young Wizard charged into the room, panting and out of breath. "Master Alwroth ... We're under attack ... Dragons."

Court

Sulrad returned to his room in Ryden. He had to find a way to secure access to the treasury. He studied the royal family and learned as much as he could about the castle staff. When ever he was able, he used his magic to seize one of the staff and question him. He probed for weaknesses in defenses, for opportunities to enter by stealth, anything that might aid in his quest.

He exercised patience, more so than he had believed himself capable of, but this was a critical step in his plans. His first attempt could not fail and if it did, there would not be an opportunity for another one.

One afternoon, he was chatting with one of the cooks from the castle, who was in charge of confectioneries. Her name was Wy, and she had a light complexion with sandy brown hair. She was slightly overweight, but not extremely so, and could have been called beautiful in the dim light of the inn.

A serving girl had taken ill one evening and the King had summoned Wy to the royal hall to serve in her stead.

"The King is worried about foreign spies," she explained.

"How so?" Sulrad asked.

"He thinks there are spies in his court, listening in on every conversation and plotting his downfall."

"Spies? Go on." Sulrad poured her another mug of ale.

"He is afraid of poison, so everything he eats or drinks must be tasted in his presence."

"Where does he think these spies come from?"

"He does not know. He suspects one of the Barons." She laughed a slight laugh that made her look much younger than Sulrad at first guessed. "I think he's imagining things."

Wy leaned in closer to Sulrad and spoke in a hushed tone. "He's mad, you know. He imagines threats where there are none. He's constantly on guard against perceived attacks.

"Just last night, I heard them say he feared to place the crown on his head because he believed someone had bewitched it." She raised the mug to her lips. "Mad, I say."

Sulrad's heart raced. If the King was worried about the crown, he might take advantage of that fear. This could be the opportunity Sulrad was waiting for. He had what he needed to convince the King to let him see the treasury.

"Am I making you nervous, Dearie?" Wy placed her hand on his, waking him from his reverie.

"No, of course not." Sulrad grasped her hand gently and looked into her empty eyes. She would make a good sacrifice to power the spells he would need in the coming days.

Sulrad spent the next few evenings plying Wy with ale until he was able to talk her into introducing him into the castle. He kept his impatience in check as he listened to her chatter about the goings on in the kitchen, grasping at any tidbit of information that he could use.

The day came when Wy said she had secured Sulrad's admittance to the castle as a petitioner. He was to locate the Guard that Wy had described and pay him one Gold to be admitted. Sulrad woke early, donned his freshly laundered robe, and walked confidently into the audience chamber.

Sulrad waited his turn, listening to the poor and downtrodden begging the King for intervention in their petty affairs until Sulrad thought he would go mad with impatience. Finally, the Guard called his name and he stepped forward.

King Omrik looked down on him with disinterested eyes. Sulrad bowed as he had been instructed, keeping his face towards the floor as he spoke.

"Your Grace, I come not to ask a favor of you, but to offer my service. I am a Wizard with information about spies operating in your realm. I have come to warn you of a plot against your life."

"What?" the King leaped up from his throne and took several steps toward Sulrad before his advisers rushed to intercept him. They quickly stepped between the King and Sulrad, forming a barrier to keep the King safe.

"What do you know? Who's out to kill me?" King Omrik asked.

"The Baron ... Baron Rieck ... Your Grace, he covets the throne for himself," Sulrad lied.

King Omrik struggled to get past his advisers, but they held him back.

"Let me talk to the Wizard." King Omrik pushed at the wall of functionaries, but they held fast.

"In the private chamber. After we've searched him," one of the King's advisers said. They shepherded the King into a side chamber, closing the door behind them.

A Guard grabbed Sulrad's arm, hauled him to his feet, and dragged him towards the doorway through which the King had departed.

Flanking the door was a pair of Guards, who searched Sulrad thoroughly, and finding nothing dangerous, allowed him entry.

King Omrik sat behind a long table surrounded by elegant chairs. Guards stood on either side of the King, spears at the ready. The table was wide and clear of anything that might be used as a weapon.

Sulrad bowed once more. When he rose, King Omrik motioned him to a chair across the table. "Sit."

Sulrad took the proffered seat and waited for the King to speak.

"What you say ... the Baron ... I have always suspected him of coveting the throne for himself." King Omrik lifted his chalice. A young man came over, took a sip from it, and handed it back. Omrik watched the boy for a while, and then took a deep draught. "Tell me about his plan."

"The Baron has hired a Wizard to enchant the crown jewels. He has placed a spell on them that is undetectable by any means other than magic. Should you or anyone else wear one of these jewels, the spell will be triggered, and the results will be fatal."