The Congruent Wizard (The Congruent Mage Series Book 2)

by Dave Schroeder

  “Got it,” said Doethan quietly. “We’ll be ready.”

  “Thanks,” said Merry. “We’re almost done here.”

  “Inthíra thinks we’ll need another half an hour at this end, once the pole is sunk, and that should only take a few minutes,” whispered Doethan. “We had to wait until you gave us the dimensions.”

  “You’re just west of where Tamloch’s army will assemble in formation?” asked Merry.

  “Yes, that was the plan. Duke Háiddon has soldiers who know the territory. They selected a great spot,” said Doethan.

  “You’ll keep us posted as soon as the pole is sunk and your side is ready?” asked Merry.

  Doethan ignored Merry’s pun. “We’ll be ready before sunrise,” he said. “Remember, you’ll need to trigger the surprise at your end well before dawn. Melyncárreg is far to the west of this end of the gate. It will take several more hours for the sun to get there.”

  “I remember my geography lessons,” teased Merry. “Imagine a fly walking around the middle of an apple…”

  “Good,” said Doethan. “You always did pay attention to your tutors—even me.”

  “Especially you,” said Merry. “You were teaching me wizardry.”

  “Until you left me for Fercha,” said Doethan.

  Merry stuck her tongue out at Doethan from the other side of the interface.

  “You could have her back if you want,” came Fercha’s muffled voice.

  “Hey,” said Merry. “I’m pleased to have you both as mentors. Now I have to get back to touching up spots I missed on a couple of spear-pines.”

  “Good luck,” said Doethan.

  “You, too,” said Merry. “See you in the morning.”

  The interface went dark and Doethan closed the hoop back into a small gold ring. He reminded himself to teach Merry how to make communications rings of her own once they’d dealt with the current unpleasantness. Who am I kidding? he asked himself. The more relevant question is if both of us survive.

  Two of Inthíra’s friends had crushed the blue magestone fragments Doethan had found at the quarry near the Dormant Dragon. Doethan promised himself to consult the royal library to see if he could learn when and why the quarry had been abandoned. It could be as simple as them excavating down to the water table, but that didn’t match up with Doethan’s observations—in the dark, he told himself. He’d investigate later.

  Doethan hadn’t given Inthíra’s friends every stone or fragment he’d brought north. One of the little girls or their mothers had discovered a blue rock so big he could barely hold it comfortably in one hand. He’d found it at the bottom of one of their sacks and could feel that it contained a magestone—a sizable one. Doethan wedged the rock into his pouch and promised himself he’d analyze it later, when it wasn’t so dark and he’d had more sleep.

  Inthíra and four other wizards she’d recruited had generated lenses to help everyone on their team see despite the lack of light. He’d come along because he could connect with the wizards on the other side of the gate. He’d told Inthíra the details of Eynon’s plan, but the rest of the wizards and soldiers didn’t know what was in store for Tamloch’s army. It was better that way, in case any of them were captured.

  Eynon’s surprise wasn’t unprecedented, Doethan considered. He’d read about the tactic being used on a smaller scale in battles across the Ocean, but doubted Eynon had ever read the obscure texts Doethan had discovered that recounted its use. The Athicans hadn’t used it during their legendary conflict with the ancestors of the Roma, though they had pulled off a major deception involving a large wooden horse.

  Deception wasn’t Eynon’s style, though. His surprise was more straightforward. If the timing worked, it would be a thing of beauty to watch unfold.

  Damon still had a part to play in all this, too. Doethan had been with the royal guards when Damon froze the Abbenoth. The Master Mage had been at the peak of his power then and the river was wide. Doethan still marveled at how Damon had frozen a bridge two hundred feet wide, eight feet thick, and four hundred and fifty feet long. Doethan and his comrades had marched across it quickly, before the legionnaires could muster to meet them. There were stories about Ealdamon collapsing after the effort. Years later, Doethan had never asked Damon what it took out of him to work that wizardry.

  Someone touched Doethan’s shoulder. It was Inthíra. He turned to face her as she pointed and whispered.

  “What do you think about the placement of the second pole,” she said. “Is the angle right?”

  Doethan saw a small circle of light as round as a pie plate nearby, projected by one of the other wizards.

  “That should be fine,” he said. “It’s not like we’re aiming a crossbow. A few degrees this way or that won’t matter.”

  “True,” said Inthíra. “I thought I’d ask just in case.”

  “The most important thing is that the pole is sturdy and well-secured,” Doethan noted. “We’ll want to protect the inner surface of the poles with shields, too, if your friends can stay nearby?”

  “They’ll stay,” said Inthíra. “When this is triggered, it should keep our kingdom’s casualties to a minimum.”

  “We can hope,” said Doethan. He spared a moment to worry about the rumors of Verro’s surprise. What would he do if he were Tamloch’s Master Mage to cause the most damage to Dâron?

  He looked southeast, beyond the fires of the Dâron army’s encampment.

  Fercha knows Verro’s mind better than I do, Doethan decided. I’ll ask her advice when Merry contacts me again. Better yet, Fercha could join me on this side.

  “Do you have enough wizards to spare that you could fly a few through to the other side of the gate when it opens?” he asked Inthíra.

  “I should,” said Inthíra. “I brought eight, plus the two of us. What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking having Fercha on our side would be a nice insurance policy,” Doethan replied.

  “Having Fercha on your side is always a plus,” said Inthíra. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

  Chapter 57

  Túathal and Verro

  Túathal sensed the change in air pressure when Verro gated into his sleeping chamber. He’d been asleep for three hours and felt recharged and ready for what was to come.

  “Everything is in place, brother?” asked the king.

  “It is,” said Verro.

  “No surprises?”

  “Only for Dâron,” Verro replied.

  “Good,” said Túathal. “Any word about their Master Mage?”

  “Ealdamon hasn’t been seen in more than twenty years, brother. None of the rest of Dâron’s Conclave can work wizardry on his scale.”

  “Excellent,” said the king.

  Túathal had been sleeping in his clothes and sat up, stretching his muscles and rotating his shoulders.

  “The legions are still on the east bank?”

  “They are,” said Verro. “And the Bifurland fleet control the river. The Roma won’t be crossing.”

  “Excellent,” said Túathal. “When did you last speak with King Bjarni?”

  “At noon yesterday,” said Verro. “I could see how eager he was to sack Brendinas.”

  “Not that we’d let him pillage our new southern capital…” said Túathal, his voice trailing off.

  Verro smiled.

  “You don’t think the legions’ arrival will change his mind?” asked the king.

  “If anything, that will make him more eager to fight,” said Verro. “King Bjarni has never tested his troops against the legions.”

  “Perhaps we can encourage him to land his warriors on the eastern shore…” said Túathal.

  “…and kill two foes with one bolt,” Verro completed.

  “Please,” said Túathal. “The King of Bifurland is our ally.”

  “Of course,” said Verro, giving his brother a mocking nod.

  “Still,” said Túathal, “send a wizard to the fleet to confirm the Bifurland
ers are ready to do their part. They’re like children who decide to chase butterflies instead of doing what they’re told.”

  “I’d have said battle-axes rather than butterflies, but I know your meaning,” said Verro. He gave his brother a hand to help Túathal to his feet. “I’ll send one now.”

  Verro turned to leave, but Túathal caught his arm.

  “Don’t send that dark-haired mage you’ve got managing my food and wards and privacy spheres,” said Túathal. “She doesn’t say much, but I love to bait her. She frowns at me when she thinks I can’t see her.”

  “Uirsé is one of my best,” said Verro. “And you must know your moral compass hasn’t pointed true north since you were born. Of course she frowns at you. Half the time I frown at you and your methods.”

  “Small disagreements within the family only, of course,” said Túathal.

  “Sometimes not so small,” said Verro, staring hard at his brother.

  “Trivialities,” said Túathal.

  Verro shook his head.

  “Maybe if you’d treat my wizards with respect instead of abusing them, you’d get better service from them,” he said. “No one likes being ordered about like a Bifurland thrall.”

  “So long as she does her job,” said Túathal. “It’s all for the greater glory of Tamloch.”

  “And Túathal,” said Verro.

  “As you say,” said the king, extending his hands as if Verro’s statement was self-evident.

  “Anything more I should know, dear brother?” asked Verro.

  “Princess Gwýnnett is my captive. She’s in the next tent.”

  “My, you have been busy,” said Verro. “How did you manage to arrange that?”

  “It was Gwýnnett’s idea, of a sort.”

  “Oh?” asked Verro.

  “She suggested she should join Dârio with the army,” said Túathal. “I encouraged her to stop here instead.”

  “Making Gwýnnett a new pawn in your long game of shah-mat?” asked Verro.

  “She’s been one for years now,” said Túathal.

  “Eighteen years, brother?”

  “Nearly nineteen, if you go back to that part of my plan’s inception,” said Túathal.

  “And Dârio’s,” said Verro.

  “Yes,” said Túathal, “I’ll soon be able to instruct my son personally, and develop him into a worthy heir.”

  “Unfortunately, you have to take Princess Gwýnnett as part of the bargain,” said Verro.

  “For now,” said Túathal.

  “Watch your back,” said Verro.

  “And anything I eat or drink,” said Túathal. “I know enough to be wary of a rattle-viper. She’ll help me convince Dârio to take my compromise once we win.”

  “Only you would doubt that the loser would accept a compromise that makes him ruler of two kingdoms.”

  “Dârio is my son, he’ll look for the worm in the apple.”

  “You’ll just have to make sure he eats it anyway,” said Verro. “You do your part. You can count on me to do mine.”

  “I will,” said Túathal. “And let me know what the wizard you send to the fleet reports.”

  “I hear and obey, mighty king.”

  Verro departed through a personal gate.

  In the darkness outside the Tamloch command tent, Salder and Uirsé embraced.

  Dawn would soon arrive and much remained to be done.

  Chapter 58

  Melyncárreg

  Chee was enthusiastically crushing multicolored magestone fragments with a rock as big as his head. Each time he brought his makeshift hammer down he said, “Chee!” The blows and sounds came faster and faster until they blurred into a bang-bang-bang chee-chee-chee chorus.

  “Someone’s having fun,” said Merry.

  Rocky leaned over and nudged the little raconette, who stopped crushing fragments.

  “Let him enjoy himself,” said Nûd, stroking the wyvern’s neck. “We need the powdered magestones for the gate.”

  Merry moved handfuls of sparkling fragments into a pillowcase and noticed the embroidered crowns and blue dragons. She gave Nûd an odd look, then prepared to hop on her flying disk and fly to the nearest spear-pine to add more magestone powder to what she’d already glued in place.

  Eynon and Fercha were twenty yards away talking to Doethan through Eynon’s ring. They’d moved away from the bang-chee sounds so they could hear Doethan speaking.

  “That would work,” said Fercha. “Once the gate is up, we can trade off with the wizards Inthíra sends through. They’ll just have to maintain the gates and make sure they’re not damaged.”

  Merry couldn’t hear what Doethan was saying. She supposed he must be whispering. Eynon’s voice was easy to pick out, though.

  “You want me, too?” said her lover. “To help Damon? Why would he need my help?” She saw Eynon nod. “I can do that. Just in case,” he said.

  Nûd spoke to Merry from his spot next to Rocky.

  “The wizards are saving the world, it seems.”

  “I’m a wizard, too,” said Merry. “And I’m certainly interested in saving the kingdom, if not the whole world.”

  “Of course,” said Nûd. “You’re one of them—and a baron’s daughter. You can make a difference.”

  “What did I do to get on your bad side?” she asked. “You’re Eynon’s friend. I’d hoped you could be my friend, too. And anyone who sets their mind to it can make a difference.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Nûd. “Forgive me. I must sound as grumpy as Damon.”

  “You’re not even in his league yet,” teased Merry.

  “Thank you for that,” said Nûd. “I just have a lot on my mind, trying to come to terms with something my mother told me earlier at the inn.”

  “Would it help to talk about it?” asked Merry.

  “Probably not, but I appreciate the offer,” said Nûd. “Things would be different if I’d grown up around nice, normal people, like Eynon.”

  “You think Eynon is normal?” asked Merry. She could see that Eynon and Fercha were still talking to Doethan.

  Nûd laughed. “Not that way. It’s clear he’s an exceptionally powerful wizard. It’s just that he’s so nice. None of the people I grew up with were nice.” He stopped and looked at Merry. “Are you nice?”

  Merry grinned back. “Probably not,” she said. “My parents were looking forward to having me out of their hair when I started my wander year. That should start any day now, I think. I’ve lost track.”

  “It seems like you started yours a few weeks early,” said Nûd.

  “Meeting Eynon started a lot of things,” Merry replied.

  Nûd raised an eyebrow and Merry blushed.

  “I mean about having adventures and learning wizardry and such.”

  “I think you’re nice,” said Nûd. “Nice to talk with, anyway. Eynon says you like to read, too?”

  “Every book I can get my hands on,” said Merry.

  “Me, too,” said Nûd. “Did you get a chance to see the library in the castle when you were in Melyncárreg with Damon?”

  “I didn’t get to see much of anything except the inside of a room and a courtyard,” Merry answered.

  “It may be the biggest library west of the Ocean,” said Nûd.

  “How many of Orluin’s libraries have you seen?” asked Merry.

  “One,” said Nûd. He smiled at Merry and she smiled back.

  “Maybe I can show you around the street of the booksellers in Tyford,” she said. “You and Eynon, both.”

  “I’d like that,” said Nûd. “I wonder if there’s a street full of booksellers in Brendinas, too.”

  “I expect there is,” said Merry. “If not more than one. Is Damon really writing a second book of epigrams?”

  Nûd tilted his head and rubbed under Rocky’s long jaw. The wyvern yawned. So did Nûd and Merry.

  “He says so,” Nûd reported. “But he says a lot of things that aren’t so.”

  “Why is
Damon so grumpy and sad all the time?” asked Merry.

  “Ask Fercha,” said Nûd. “It’s her fault.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She wanted to go back to court after I was born and Damon wouldn’t permit it.”

  “I’ll bet that went over well,” said Merry.

  “Like a hedgehog on a royal throne,” said Nûd. “She went to court anyway, and Damon’s been permanently out of sorts ever since.”

  “Damon must have been rough on Fercha during her training,” said Merry. “Especially if he thought he could boss her around like that.”

  “It’s more complicated than that, but you’re right,” said Nûd.

  “He’s the famed Master Mage who froze the Abbenoth,” said Merry. “I don’t expect he’d be easy to live with. Not like Eynon.”

  “Nobody is like Eynon,” said Nûd.

  “True,” said Merry. “Very true.”

  Chee let out a particularly long string of bangs and commentary. Rocky leaned down to nudge him with his snout again. Nûd didn’t try to stop him.

  “That’s pretty embroidery on that pillowcase,” said Merry. “Is it yours?”

  “Uh huh,” said Nûd, reluctantly. “Damon told me my great-grandmother made it for me.”

  Merry remembered Queen Carys doing embroidery during her meeting back in the palace. It seemed like that had been ages ago, but it was only this morning. She looked at Nûd with appraising eyes. Nûd noticed.

  “What?” he said.

  “Nothing,” said Merry. “You’ll tell me if you want to tell me.”

  Nûd shook his head, slowly. “I’m not even sure I want to tell myself.”

  “You’re one of Crown Prince Dâri’s bastards?”

  A wide grin spread across Nûd’s face. “If only,” he said. “I don’t think he had any.”

  Nûd waved toward Eynon and Fercha. “Looks like they’re almost done. You’d better finish your touch-up work with glue and magestone fragments before Fercha gets back.”

  “Right,” said Merry. “Later.”