The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare

by April Leonie Lindevald

  Gargan crashed to the deck, his hands over his face, shrieking like a wounded boar. All around him on each of the advancing ships, others were howling and writhing in similar distress. Some of the men even lost consciousness, or ran about the decks in confusion. The flash had come out of nowhere, brighter than anything any of them had ever before encountered, and anyone who had been turned in its direction was blinded by its intensity. Neritz, who had been lying face-down on the deck where Gargan had flung him, picked himself up and took in the scene of chaos and destruction around him. All thoughts of conquest and joyful victories fled from the stage of his mind as he simply attempted to calculate his best chance for survival. Everyone else within earshot was standing or lying on the deck, sightless, and whimpering in pain. He couldn’t turn the ship around by himself. He stepped over Gargan’s hulking form, and staggered over to the helm, still worried about being dashed to bits on the jagged rocks. It was then that an unfamiliar sound drew his eyes upward, a knot of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. Dragons! Huge, angry dragons emerging from the mist – dragons of every size and color, swooping and flapping their enormous wings, breathing flame, and fastening their wicked eyes on him. This new development was one disaster too many for the hapless lord, who fell in a heap on the deck of his battered ship, folded his arms over his head in a pitiful attempt at protection, and sobbed like a baby, shaking and shuddering.

  In truth, the dragons were sent to frighten the intruders, rather than to do any actual damage. After centuries of experience, they were all extremely gifted at inspiring fear in those who understood them the least. Six of them played at wheeling and swooping, breathing flames, and uttering hair-raising shrieks, while the other six flew in close to the water, instructed to search the waves and the wreckage for any seamen in distress – those who might be clinging to bits of flotsam, or were struggling to keep their heads above water. They were scooped up, or plucked up, one by one, in the dragons’ very sensitive claws, and deposited with care on the decks of the least damaged ships, in daring pass after pass. Many a sailor in Drogue’s fleet owed his life that day to a dragon’s sharp eye, and many told the stories of their incredible rescues again and again to their grandchildren, for years into the future.

  One purple dragon got carried away with his own playfulness. He had taken to grasping the tops of mainmasts in his claws and rocking the ships back and forth while roaring at them, like so many toys in the bathtub. It was a harmless enough prank, and quite terrifying to the men on shipboard. But one mast, already damaged in the tidal wave, snapped off in his claws, and hung poised in the rigging, useless and threatening to fall. Embarrassed, and wanting to seem responsible, the great beast grabbed the broken piece, pulled it up, seared through mainsail and tangled ropes with his fiery breath, and flung the offending splinter far out to sea. That ship might not make it home under its own steam, but at least no one was hurt. The crew however, completely misread the purple dragon’s helpful intentions, and ran about the decks screaming, convinced their vessel would be torn apart a piece at a time right out from under them.

  “Use the mage-fire on them!” Gargan shouted, having regained his sight just in time for an eyeful.

  “How, sir?” a miserable yeoman responded. “All the components are soaking wet, and we have nothing to set it alight.”

  “Get out of my way.” Neritz roared at Gargan, having finally found his backbone. “I’ve had enough of you. We are leaving this cursed place before we all perish.” He barked out orders to those in his crew still standing, and had them relayed by semaphore to the other ships. With a heroic effort, the battered fleet, or what was left of it, turned itself around. Any ship that could sail headed back out to the open sea. Those that were too damaged, but still afloat, were secured by tow ropes to the strongest of the others. Men were posted at all the railings to scour the waters for anyone still floundering overboard, but the dragons had done their work well. There were injuries and scarred psyches, but as far as anyone could tell, no one was lost at sea – a veritable miracle. In shifts, so as not to give themselves away, the dragons broke off their theatrical attacks, and one by one rode the air currents back through the make-believe mists to their various preferred perches at Theriole. By the time the last of them had returned, it was obvious to everyone in a position to be watching that the only intention of the naval force that had come to conquer them, was now to escape the vicinity as soon as possible. A spontaneous cheer erupted from the crowds that had for so long held their tongues – indeed, had barely breathed – while their fate hung in the balance. But Boone’s men, mindful of their orders, hushed the joyful eruption mid-shout. The danger might not be entirely past.

  Back on Drogue’s flagship, Gargan was arguing again, “But, I tell you, I heard it, clear and plain. Voices. From back there. It sounded like hundreds of people cheering for just a moment…”

  Neritz narrowed his eyes and looked straight at the sullen big man, “Those must have been the voices of souls trapped in Hell, which is where we have been, and what I am very thankful to have only just escaped by a hair’s breadth! I will brave Lord Drogue’s wrath before I even think of going back to that horrible place again, and if I ever even speak of putting to sea again for any reason whatever, you will know that it is time for me to be put away, because I shall have lost my mind!” He turned his back and strode to the other end of the ship, while the fleet entrusted to his care limped back toward its origin, gray mists closing behind them.

  A little while longer the denizens of the palace kept still and watched, as the ships shrank in the distance, and disappeared at last over the horizon, to even the sharpest eye. Looking around for a cue, everyone still waited a maddening interval just to be certain they would not be heard. And then, almost as if the entire company were one body, with one corporate perception of the perfect moment, every soul in Theriole cried out at once – man, woman, child and beast. The cheer that arose was deafening. There were cries of, “Long live the King!” “Hail our Regent!” Even, “Thanks to our wizard!” The dragons lifted up their wings and roared. And both the talking beasts and those who were not so endowed, bellowed, howled, barked, brayed, and neighed themselves senseless. Soldiers beat their swords against their shields. The unicorns sported and frolicked on the beach, tossing their beautiful heads, while all the naiads cavorted and splashed about in the shallows.

  Jorelial Rey, sensing that they were now safe for the moment, gave the order for runners to go immediately out into the neighboring fields, the town, and the outlying farms, to carry the word of the enemy’s defeat. Then she stood, eyes closed, breathing in the joy and relief that sang through the warm evening air. They had done it. They had won the first round, and on their own terms, just as Xaarus had promised, and Tvrdik had always believed.

  Oh, heavens, Tvrdik! And Tash! They would have no way of knowing that the danger was past, and it had been more than six hours since they had locked minds to generate their false landscape. Her eyes flew wide open at the thought, and without an explanation to anyone, turned and dashed up stairways and through dimming corridors, to the level of the large defensive alcoves set in Theriole’s sea wall, overlooking the waves.

  THIRTY–THREE

  The Hero Wizard

  SHE WENT TO TASHROTH FIRST, as they had all agreed. It seemed safer for Tashroth to pull out of the mind-meld first so that the young mage could surface more gradually. Jorelial Rey raced into the space where the great green dragon crouched, silent and still except for his glowing eyes. She flung herself against his massive chest, where she could feel his beating heart. Reaching up to stroke his familiar face, she called his name, “Tashroth…Tash, we did it! They are gone. Come back to me, Tash. We’ve won.” The enormous eyes stopped their pulsing, and began to clear. Tashroth blinked, made a rumbling noise deep in his throat, and stretched. He half unfolded his wings, shaking out the discomfort of standing long in one position, and extended each front limb in turn,
unlocking stiff joints. Bringing his ancient, beloved face back down to hers, he blinked again, and smiled a dragon smile.

  “Where do we stand, little one?”

  She embraced him with relief, then backed away to speak with him, “We did it, Tash. The illusion held the whole time, and they never saw us. Then Ondine nearly drowned them all, and the unicorns and your dragon friends scared the stuffing out of them. What’s left of their fleet has turned tail and fled back to wherever they came from.”

  “What is that awful noise, then?” he furrowed his brows in concern.

  She laughed, “That, my dear, is the sound of celebration. The people in the palace are cheering our success.”

  “Oh,” responded the dragon. “How very undisciplined.”

  “I think we can forgive them just this once. Are you alright?”

  Tashroth stretched again, “I am very well. In fact, I feel quite invigorated. The mage is remarkably gifted – much more powerful than even he suspects.”

  “So, Tvrdik did well?”

  “My dear, Tvrdik did it all. Xaarus and I only loaned him a little extra amplification.”

  “Ohmygosh! We have left him still standing there. It’s been six hours. I have to bring him back…”

  “Go, little one. And thank him from me for a most unusual adventure. Now I feel the need to stretch my wings a bit, and find a bite to eat.” The great beast nuzzled her once more, edged forward in the alcove, and just walked off the end of the ledge. Jorelial Rey gasped, as she watched the falling giant spread his magnificent wings in the air and climb upwards on a current. Then, she turned on her heel and ran through the hall to the central alcove where the Court Wizard still stood frozen, staff in hand, eyes closed and face lifted to the sea breeze.

  She hadn’t the slightest idea how to bring him back from his meditation, as they hadn’t had time to plan this part in advance. Following her best instincts, she squeezed around in front of him on the ledge, faced him, and began to rub his arms briskly with her hands. “Tvrdik…Tvrdik, it’s over,” she told him. “You did it. They’re gone. You can come back now. Let the illusion go, and come back to us.” There was no response. Frowning, she tried shaking him by the shoulders and calling a little more loudly, but the wizard remained lost in concentration.

  Now Jorelial Rey was growing concerned. She had expected it to take a little extra effort to rouse the mage, after such a long time in his trance. But she was getting nowhere like this, and had no idea how aggressive she could be without doing any harm. She stroked his hair with her right hand, smoothing its pale, golden, windblown tangles back from his forehead. Still no motion – not even the flicker of an eyelid. She stomped a foot in frustration.

  “Tvrdik, wake up. I command you to return to the here and now,” she shouted as loudly as she could, to no avail. Growing more and more alarmed, running out of ideas, and with nothing to lose, she remembered something she’d heard in a tale, long ago in her childhood. She glanced about to make sure they were alone, came up close to him, put her right hand on his hair, stretched up on tiptoes and kissed Tvrdik right on the lips. She pulled back in haste, as the mage’s eyelids fluttered, and then snapped open, while he began to sway on his feet.

  Rel grasped his shoulders once more, in an attempt to steady him. Bit by bit, the open eyes which at first seemed trained on some far-off shore, began to focus, and the light of recognition flashed in their depths. The wizard’s mouth began to move, but no sound came out. He tried to lick his dry lips, but there was no moisture in his tongue. Why hadn’t she thought to bring water along with her? He fastened his gaze on her, and half whispered, half croaked, “Jorelial Rey…safe?”

  A broad smile of relief lit her face, as she answered him, “Yes, Tvrdik. Theriole is safe. We are all safe, at least for now. It’s all over. The ships have gone, and they never even saw us. You did it, Tvrdik. You fooled them. You can relax now.”

  The wizard, still frozen in place, closed his eyes at the news, and heaved a deep, emotional sigh. He struggled to speak again. “How long?” he managed to get out.

  “Six hours. See, the sun is just going down now.” He winced at that. “Are you alright? Can you move?”

  He blinked and cleared his throat, “I…I’m a bit stiff,” he admitted, slowly regaining the use of his voice. “I can’t seem to make my arms and legs move…”

  She frowned, “I think we underestimated how hard it is on a physical body to stand absolutely still for six hours. Here, let me help you.” She searched through the debris in the alcove, found an old wooden bucket, and overturned it to make a seat. At that moment, Mark, Delphine, and Stewart came rushing in, worried that Tvrdik had not yet made a public appearance in his moment of triumph.

  “Is he alright?” Delphine called out.

  “I think so,” her sister replied, “Just really stiff. He’s been in this position such a long time. Come and give me a hand here.” They all crowded around him and began rubbing down his shoulders, neck, arms and legs. Someone pried his stiffened fingers off of the sturdy oak staff and moved it to a safe corner. Once they had gotten the circulation going, they supported his weight and urged him over to the bucket where he could sit down. It was a bit of a challenge, as his body went in an instant from entirely rigid to boneless. He kept collapsing, and then struggling to regain control over his limbs, while apologizing over and over for being so much trouble. At last, working together, they got him seated on the overturned bucket, where Stewart proceeded to lick his face all over. Laughing at these attentions, concentrating on taking deep breaths, and closing and opening his fingers to get the blood flowing, Tvrdik slowly came back to himself, and asked for a full account of what had happened.

  “Why, Tvrdik, don’t you know?” Mark replied, “Everyone down there is waiting for you to appear. It’s a regular festival, and they all want a glimpse of the hero of the day – the wizard who foiled Lord Drogue’s fleet and saved us all.”

  The young mage turned his usual shade of red, a very good sign that things were returning to normal. “Tashroth?” he asked, concerned.

  Rel put a comforting hand on his shoulder, “He’s fine. I woke him up first. He’s already flying around looking for supper. He said he felt ‘invigorated’ and asked me to thank you for a very interesting adventure – whatever that means.”

  “But what…what actually happened out there after I went under?” Mark handed over a water skin he had been carrying, while they all took turns relating the events of the last six hours in dramatic detail.

  “I have no idea what they thought they were looking at out there, but it is certain they did not see Theriole. They sailed around in circles for the longest time as if they had no idea where a whole palace had gotten to,” Delphine recounted.

  “I made up a mock seascape to mask the real one, and I filled it with endless, turbulent waters, curling mists, and jagged outcroppings of rock, with no real shoreline in sight…if they believed it, they must have been really confused as to where they were, and why there was no sign of Theriole. I gave them a true seaman’s nightmare.” He was shocked to hear of the water-nymphs’ slightly over-zealous contribution, though he had been the one to suggest that Ondine had more tricks up her sleeve than anyone suspected. “Casualties?” he asked, thinking of Xaarus’ mandate.

  Rel replied, “Only the one on our side, which, while tragic, is a miracle in itself. We aren’t sure about their side. Some of their ships were damaged or sank, but I think most of the men were rescued from the water. We even helped them do that.”

  “How…?”

  Grinning, she explained to all of them the dragons’ clever deception, and their secret rescue mission.

  Tvrdik’s eyes were shining with excitement, as he said to them, “Do you realize what this means? We did what we said we could do. We proved that we could successfully defend the palace, and everyone in it, without lifting a sword, or shoo
ting a single arrow. We used our imaginations and our special skills, we pulled together as a team, and we turned them back. If we ever had any doubts, and I admit I have, we’ve laid them to rest this day. Now we have a real precedent to inspire us. It isn’t just a theory – we’ve proven it can be done.”

  Jorelial Rey, while just as elated at their triumph, felt honor-bound to point out the sobering facts, “I wouldn’t celebrate just yet. We’ve won the day, but the struggle has just begun. And the trouble with this method is that everyone on the other side lives to come back and harry us again tomorrow.”

  “Well,” replied the mage, after a moment’s thought, “every day alive is a new day for someone to change his mind. Even Drogue could see reason. And, if not, I think we’ll be ready for him.”

  “The question of the moment is,” Delphine interrupted, “do you think you can stand up and walk now? There is a very large crowd of fans down there, awaiting a glimpse of you.”

  “I am sure you are exaggerating, but I am feeling better now…if you’ll just get my staff over there…thank you.”

  He leaned a little on the staff to get up, but aside from being tired and a bit slow, he demonstrated that he could get around, and was almost back to his usual self. “You know, I think I’m a little hungry.”