Scholar of Magic

by Michael G. Manning

  The king sighed. “I had high hopes for him. At the very least, since he’s hidden my daughter, I can be sure she remains safe.”

  “A great comfort, I am sure.”

  “Assuming she returns and gives me a child. If not, I may have to marry again, and that’s always tiresome.”

  Will stepped through the archway. “You may as well remarry then, for I’ll never let you have any child of mine and Selene’s.”

  The king whipped around in surprise, his eyes snapping to Will’s face. “You?” He glanced at Tintabel. “But you just said…”

  “He must have run from the battle,” suggested Tintabel.

  “Or I succeeded and have come to report so to the king,” countered Will.

  Lognion’s eyes were moving quickly between the two of them, and his face was full of suspicion. Will understood why. He’s trying to figure out how we could both believe we were telling the truth when the facts should be obvious to both of us.

  Tintabel moved to stand protectively in front of the king. “Careful, Your Majesty. The vampire rumored to be leading them may have the ability to disguise his form.”

  Will smiled. “Funny. That’s what I was just about to say. Instead, maybe I should point out that your entire family died in a fire a few days ago, but somehow you alone miraculously survived. Would that be because you couldn’t fool them into believing you were the real Lord Tintabel?”

  The king acted suddenly and without hesitation. Taking two steps back, he raised a force-dome around himself. “The question is easily solved. Let me see which of you bleeds.” An earth elemental manifested by the archway leading to the stairs, and stone flowed up to block the exit. “Neither of you will leave this place until I am sure that the one who lies is the one who dies.” More elementals began to appear around the edges of the room.

  Tintabel laughed and raised one hand. A beam of gray light shot from one of his fingers and played over the king’s force-dome, eating holes in the protective field.

  Will was stunned. He’d never encountered a magic that could do that. He fired a force-lance at the vampire, then cast his blur spell. His attack went to waste, though, for a split second before he acted, Tintabel’s body exploded into a cloud of gray dust, expanding to fill the entire room. A voice began to laugh, echoing through the chamber, and he recognized it as Androv. “It’s a shame you ruined my fun, but it changes nothing.”

  The king’s elementals were helpless to find a target, and Lognion himself was attempting to repair his defense to no avail. He dismissed it so he could cast another, but it was too late. The dust swarmed toward him, covering his body and filling his mouth and nose. The sovereign of Terabinia didn’t even have a chance to scream before the air was taken from him as his lungs filled with gray powder.

  Will was dumbfounded. He couldn’t attack the dust without killing the king, but the king would soon suffocate if he couldn’t do something. And should I do something? If the king dies during this fight, is it really so bad?

  Still unsure whether Androv had hidden himself while controlling the dust, or whether Androv was the dust, Will used the rod to send out another chime. The return tone indicated that the room was clear of hidden foes. Is he really the dust itself?

  Lacking a better option, Will activated the rod’s iron-body transformation, then summoned his falchion and used the silver-sword spell to cover it with argent flames. Last but not least, he sent another thread of turyn into the rod and cast another of the new spells Ethelgren had showed him, a water-breathing spell.

  The name was something of a misnomer though, for the spell did nothing of the sort. Instead, it created a highly concentrated zone of air within the caster’s throat while simultaneously sealing the mouth and nose. The end result was that the caster could survive for up to thirty minutes without air, while the main drawback was that it made it impossible to speak. But that’s an acceptable problem if you’re dealing with poison gases, Ethelgren had told him.

  Will didn’t know if the gray dust was poisonous, but he definitely didn’t want it in his lungs.

  The king was on his knees, clutching at his throat, and as Will watched he sagged to the floor, his chest heaving and moving, though nothing entered or exited his mouth but more gray powder. His hands tensed into claws and then relaxed as he finally lost consciousness.

  Will had been preparing a spell while he watched, and when the king passed out he released it, surrounding the body with a force-dome barely large enough for two men. The dust exploded up and out of Lognion’s mouth, swirling around the inside of the makeshift cage. Will moved closer, readying his burning sword.

  His plan was simple, force Androv to resume his human form, then strike him down with the sword. He didn’t know if it would work, but it was the best he could come up with. According to Ethelgren, the argent flames could destroy almost anything, vampire, human, or even tree, as Tiny had demonstrated.

  After a moment, Androv’s body reformed from the dust, and he stood smiling at Will with naked fangs that lent an entirely different feeling to the expression. “Please let me out, William. I’m dying to give you something.”

  Will could have dismissed the force-dome and then struck, but he wanted Androv kept busy. Sure enough, a second later, the vampire pointed one finger at Will and released another gray bolt of power. It struck the inside of the dome and began devouring the force-wall, crawling around the edges of it like acid on burning flesh. Will stepped to one side and swung the sword. It passed through the fresh opening and completely bisected the pompous wizard.

  The flames guttered, and smoke billowed out as Androv screamed and collapsed on the floor in two large and very separate pieces. He glared hatefully at Will.

  Dismissing the force-dome, Will swung again, hoping to end the master vampire completely, but the fiend smiled and exploded outward, blinding Will with a thick, gray cloud that swirled around him as it expanded. He could hear Androv laughing in his ears, and seconds later the vampire reformed several feet away. “Did Ethelgren tell you to try the sword? It almost worked, once. Surely, he knew that after that I would find a way to protect myself? Once burned, twice shy, that’s what I always say.”

  Will noticed a band of burned flesh at Androv’s midsection. He pointed at it and smiled.

  “You think you’ve done me some harm?” A force-dome appeared around Will in the blink of an eye, and then the vampire bent down to lift Lognion’s wrist to his mouth. With a flash of yellow teeth, he tore into the flesh and began to suckle on the wound, lapping at the red blood with a tongue that appeared black whenever it darted out from his lips.

  Will was sickened by the sight, and it reminded him of the moments that he’d endured while the vampires had briefly fed on him. He tried to think of a way to escape the force-dome, but unlike Androv, he didn’t know a spell that would destroy force effects. He couldn’t steal it either, for unlike most spells, force effects were intimately tied to their caster—they couldn’t be wrested away.

  Androv dropped the king’s still-bleeding wrist and stood up once more, his mouth stained crimson. The scarred flesh at his waist was gone. “See? Good as new. You’re going to love it.”

  That sent a cold chill down his spine. Will lifted one hand and made a gesture that was easy to understand.

  The master vampire nodded. “Did you know that of all the vampires you’ve met in this precious city, none of them were whole?”

  Will frowned.

  “Except for me, of course,” said Androv. “All the others are what they used to call ‘lesser vampires.’ Poor, sad creatures created accidentally, either through a botched feeding or an accidental cut or scratch. But you’re worthy of more than that. I will make you my true child.”

  Will shook his head.

  “That’s too bad. I wasn’t asking. Of all the people in this city, even your sad, centuries-old king, you’re the only one I would consider granting such a boon to. Do you know why?”

  Centuries old? That wasn’t pos
sible, not unless the king was a wizard, or was there some other way?

  “Because you’re a true wizard, like me. There aren’t many of us left, so you’re a rare find. Then there’s also the fact that the extensive blood transfusion will give me even more control over your thoughts and actions than that pathetic heart-stone enchantment your king so favors. By making you my heir, I will double my strength on the council.”

  If that were his criteria, he’d do the same to Lognion. Will dismissed the water breathing spell and said, “You’ll have to take this dome down first, and as soon as you do, I’ll be all over you,” threatened Will, waving the sword. He wished he could believe his own words. Using the rod, he replaced the spell as soon as he’d finished speaking.

  “Oh! I forgot. You can’t take it down yourself, can you? How rude of me.” The force-dome vanished. “There. Now, by all means, vanquish me!”

  He’d been waiting for that, and Will’s turyn exploded through his body as he blurred to attack at the fastest speed he could manage. And missed. Androv neatly dodged the swing, and the next, and those that followed.

  “Frustrating, isn’t it? Here, let me help you.” The vampire froze in place and as Will’s sword swung in, Androv’s body dissolved into dust just ahead of the flames, reforming behind it. “I let you cut me earlier. It’s more fun giving people hope, then slowly crushing it.”

  Will felt despair, but not the sort his enemy wanted. You were right, he found a way to defeat the flames.

  How?

  He transforms freely back and forth to dust or ash. Can you think of a way to beat it?

  No, sorry, just my final spell, the ‘Last Resort.’ I’ll tell the next person to find me what a hero you were, though.

  Just don’t possess them.

  No promises.

  Will took a few more swings with the sword, then began firing force-lances at Androv at the same time. The vampire’s body would explode into dust with each strike, only to reform a second later. “That tickles, William! Please don’t stop!”

  He knew the attacks wouldn’t help, but he was gathering turyn while his enemy taunted him. As soon as he was almost full, he would feed it all into the rod, and then…

  Androv reversed the game, sending a barrage of force-lances back at Will, forcing him to block them, but at the same time the vampire walked toward him. Will swung at him with the sword, while he continued to block the force-lances, but Androv ignored it, letting the blade pass through his torso. Then his clawed hand reached out to open Will’s throat.

  He frowned when the hardened skin prevented injury. “How annoying.”

  Now that Androv was right in front of him, it was time. Will slammed his turyn into the rod. In a second it would be over. Sorry, Selene. Pain shot down his arm, a wretched agony, but when Will’s eyes opened it wasn’t because of the spell effect he had attempted to activate.

  Androv held his left wrist, and despite the hardened skin, he had crushed Will’s wrist bones. The hand hung loosely without support while the rod had fallen to the ground. The vampire released him, sending more agony shooting up his wrist and arm, then he bent and retrieved the rod. “This little nuisance should have been eliminated a long time ago.” Turyn whipped around the vampire’s hand, and a red glow formed. The rod began to shift colors and soon it glowed as well, then it sagged, and molten metal dripped to the floor, sizzling on the stone.

  Stunned by the pain, and the loss of his one useful tool, Will scarcely blinked when Androv exploded, flowed around him, and then reformed. He held Will’s sword arm in an irresistible grip while his other hand clutched Will’s throat. The vampire crooned in his ear, “Let me show you what the sword feels like.” With a jerk and a twist, he pulled Will’s arm out, back, and up until something popped and pain shot through him. The sword fell from his grip, but the hand at his throat vanished as Androv caught it with blinding speed.

  Then he drove it into the center of Will’s lower back. There was a moment of resistance, as the iron-body transformation tried to stop it, but the magic of Ethelgren’s silver sword spell was too great, especially when combined with Androv’s monstrous strength. The tip pierced his spine, then erupted from his belly.

  Will screamed, while Androv levered the sword from side to side, opening a wide cut that caused his guts to spill out. The vampire lowered him slowly to the floor, then examined his belly. “What luck, William! I missed the hepatic artery and vein! It looks like it may take you a couple of minutes to bleed to death, rather than seconds. Aren’t you lucky? Don’t worry, though, I won’t let you die all the way.”

  Androv exploded into dust and rushed at Will’s face, but the water-breathing spell prevented him from entering. The vampire reformed with a look of frustration on his face. With one hand, he reached out and touched Will’s lips. A war of wills ensued, and then Androv pulled the water-breathing spell away, flicking it into slivers of dissolving turyn with his fingertips. “Your will is very well developed for someone so young, William. Your teacher must be proud.”

  Despite the pain, or perhaps because of it, Will’s mind felt clear, and sad. The faces of those he wouldn’t see again flashed through his mind. His mother, Sammy, Tiny, Laina, Janice—and most of all Selene. Selene! In a moment of clarity, he realized there might be one last hope. Looking at his right palm, he began to form a spell.

  “You still haven’t given up? My word, William, you’re a rare prize. What kind of spell is that? Not that it matters. Surely you realize nothing can kill me. Even Grim Talek would hesitate to try, for fear of earning my enmity for uncountable centuries. Go on. Let’s see what it is. If it’s something entertaining, I’ll knock a decade off your punishment before I allow you some responsibility.”

  Ignoring the taunts, Will finished the construct, but he didn’t put his turyn into it. Instead he activated one of his prepared spells, shoving half of his remaining power into the wind-wall spell. It exploded into violent fury, shredding the vampire’s body, but only into dust, yet again.

  Androv laughed as he swirled through the air, and as the spell faded, he started to taunt his victim once again. “I thought you might have something original. I’d never seen the other spell, but I suppose it was just a decoy—”

  His words cut off as Will pushed the rest of his power into the spell he had constructed and released it. Selene’s Solution expanded to fill the room, sweeping up dust, dirt, trash, particles, and filth. It collected the spilled blood and the debris on the floor, it cleaned their clothes, and even their wounds. But most of all, it swept Androv up and gathered him in, inexorable in its pull.

  In the past he had often wondered what her spell did with the dirt it collected, for it had to go somewhere. So, he had studied its inner workings, only to be amazed once again at the intricacy of her design. The dirt and dross were collected and converted into two opposing forms of turyn, then it was mixed and dispersed. The spell’s organizing effect created a slight cooling effect in the area it cleaned, while the constructive destruction of the matter it collected created a warming effect that was dispersed widely at its boundaries.

  Androv, master wizard and vampire, was converted into heat energy and absorbed by the cool earth that surrounded the chamber, and then he was no more.

  Chapter 57

  Will wished he couldn’t feel his legs, but he could. If he closed his eyes it felt as though someone was holding him over an open fire, roasting his lower half in the flames, but when he looked at them, they were fine, except for the fact that he couldn’t move them. By the same token, his entrails were a minor inconvenience, messy and sprawling across the floor, but they caused him little pain. How odd, observed the quiet voice in the back of his head. Maybe it was all relative and the pain in his lower body was so great that his brain simply had no time to process the pain from his other injuries.

  He summoned the last regeneration potion from the limnthal and stared at it for a moment, his eyes going to the king. Selene’s father had bled out slowly from the
wound on his wrist, but the blood loss wasn’t inconsiderable. Without prompt treatment, the man might die. If Lognion did die, the ramifications would be significant.

  Still reeling from the damage to Cerria, Terabinia might fall victim to a fresh incursion from Darrow, especially if they were the ones who had sent the vampires in the first place. The nation would need a strong ruler to defeat such a powerful enemy. If Selene was back, she might take his place, but she wasn’t. Without a king, Terabinia would collapse into chaos and civil war.

  But if I save him, I’ll die for certain. And that was ignoring the fact that he had sworn to kill the king eventually anyway.

  He was fed up with stupid dilemmas. “To hell with all of it,” said Will angrily. “I’ve done enough for this goddamned nation.” Unstopping the vial, he drank its contents.

  A new heat raced through him, and the burning in his legs changed to an intense sensation of electric pain. He cried out as it swept over him, and he felt the bones in his wrist and shoulder seek out their proper places and reunite. Glancing down, he saw his intestines snaking back into him, looking for all the world like parasitic worms racing to feast on his innards. Their movement was accompanied with a wave of nausea.

  Once his bones were in place, Will scooted across the floor until he was beside the dying king. His healing was still intensely painful, but every minute counted. Summoning another spare tunic, he cut it into strips. I need to store some damned linen bandages in there, he thought, making a mental note. I keep cutting up perfectly good clothes. Will tightly wrapped the man’s wrist, then tied off the bandage with a quick knot.

  “There, maybe you won’t die. Asshole,” he announced faintly. His head felt dizzy, and he knew he was about to pass out. Not yet.

  Will summoned two blood-cleanse potions and drank one. He poured the other in Lognion’s mouth and held the man’s mouth and nose shut. “I hope you fucking choke on it.”