Wizard of the Grove

by Tanya Huff

  Crystal sped down the stream as fast as her powerful new body could take her. She was tiring but didn’t dare take the time to rest. A moving target was, after all, more difficult to hit. She felt the amusement in Kraydak’s questing thoughts and used her anger at it to reinforce her shield.

  * * *

  The ancient wizard laughed aloud. So she would hide her fishy thoughts, would she? He followed instead the pattern of the shield.

  * * *

  The current slowed and the texture of the water changed; the stream was about to join a major river. Once sharing its depths with a multitude of life forms, she’d be harder for Kraydak to spot and, if she remembered the maps correctly, the river ran through Melac’s capital city and right past Kraydak’s tower. With his attention on the river, he wouldn’t be scanning the rest of the countryside.

  * * *

  “Why,” Kraydak asked the skull, “would I want to scan the countryside?” He got only fragments of thought through the shield and this fragment made no sense. If she was trying to sneak assassins through Melac, they’d die before they reached the tower and he’d never have to become involved. Assassins were a stupid idea. He smiled. They must be getting very desperate.

  “I wonder . . .” He tapped the yellowed ivory of the skull’s teeth. “Should I scan the countryside?”

  The skull grinned up at him.

  He nodded. “Yes, you’re quite right. She’s played my game, so it’s only fair I play hers . . . for a while. Besides, the countryside can hold nothing more interesting than the river. She shows such initiative, I almost wished I’d called her sooner.”

  * * *

  A massive golden paw tipped with deadly claws split the water inches from Crystal’s nose. Her panicked flip backward took her up and out of the water and dangerously close to the snapping jaws of a huge golden bear. She hit the water with a painful smack and raced back upstream. From the security of the bottom of a deep pool, she considered what she should do.

  Crystal knew she really only had one choice. What happened to her was unimportant. She had to hold Kraydak’s attention. The dragon had to get through.

  She sent out a questing thought. The bear waited at the end of the stream. He blocked the water route completely, which left only one way to go. She rose to the surface of the pool, found the strongest flow of current, and started back downstream. Her fins and tail beat against the water and she swam rapidly toward the river. The current lent her speed and she moved faster and faster until she flashed through the water like silver lightning. When she felt the bear gather himself to lunge, she twisted her tail and jumped.

  No fish jumps better than a salmon and no salmon ever leaped higher than Crystal. Up, up she arced, flashing silver in the sunlight. The bear, who had dived forward to scoop her from the water, was taken by surprise and although he reared and raked the air with his claws, he was far too late. With liquid grace, Crystal twisted and dove into the relative safety of the river.

  As she swam away, she felt the bear’s mind follow her. He seemed to be laughing. At least she’d managed to keep him amused.

  * * *

  Kraydak considered sending an otter into the river but decided against it. He had no need to exert himself for, after all, the wizard-child was coming to him. He would watch to see she didn’t slip away and take care of her when she reached the tower. He appreciated her courage, secure in the knowledge that she could do him little harm.

  * * *

  The sun was a red-gold ball balanced on the western mountains when Crystal reached the tower. She swam slowly, trying to conserve her dwindling energies. Between holding the transformation and the constant fear that Kraydak would make a move she couldn’t counter, she was nearing the point of exhaustion. And if she faced Kraydak, if she actually reached him and the dragon hadn’t yet come, what then? Could her shield hold without distance to lend it strength? She was so busy worrying, she didn’t notice the net until it was too late.

  “Right then, we’ve got her! Heave to and let’s get her beached!”

  The four men put their backs to it, laboriously drawing the net and its thrashing cargo to shore. But what they pulled from the water was no fish.

  “Holy shit,” breathed a ruffian who was missing an ear and most of his nose. “I never thought I’d see one of those.” He dropped the net and grabbed for his sword as the unicorn kicked itself free of the ropes.

  It was over very quickly.

  Sides heaving, its horn and hoofs dripping gore, the unicorn staggered-toward the tower. It shimmered and Crystal collapsed across the steps. Her skin and shift were covered in blood, not all of it belonging to others. There was a sword cut on her upper arm and her nose still bled freely. She shivered in the shadow of the tower and couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

  The great iron-bound door swung open. She was expected.

  At least he’s still interested, she thought, crawling forward. She pulled herself up until she sat on the bottom step, looked up at the apparently infinite length of stone staircase wrapped about the inside of the building, and giggled. She couldn’t help it.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” she called up the stairs.

  The door slammed shut and latched with an ominous thunk. Kraydak thought he had her safe; now she had nowhere to go but up.

  Crystal remembered the blue bolt smashing Bryon to the ground and added the memory to her shield. The dragon should be very close. If it was coming. If Kraydak hadn’t already taken care of it. She set her teeth, pulled herself to her feet, and slowly began to climb.

  * * *

  High above the clouds, the dragon soared, his scales glowing reddish gold in the light of the setting sun. He banked and dipped and gloried in the strength of his wings.

  “Perhapsss wait,” he thought as he raced the wind and won. “Kraydak killsss wizzzard. Kraydak isss mine. No more wizzzards. Ever.”

  The sun dropped below the horizon and, for a moment, the dragon lit the evening on his own.

  “Perhapsss wait.”

  * * *

  On the hundredth step, Crystal knew she had to rest. Her blood sang in her ears and she couldn’t, just couldn’t lift her leg again. She sagged against the outer wall.

  DEATH!

  The scream in her mind shocked her so she slid down half a dozen steps before she could catch herself. Eyes wide, she reached out a trembling hand and touched the wall again.

  DEATH!

  Even prepared for it, the force of the cry caused her to jerk and snatch her hand away as if she’d been burned. She sat down, carefully staying away from the wall, and clasped her hands between her knees to stop them from shaking.

  “Destroy him,” said Lord Death from the step below her, “and free my people, too.”

  And then he was gone and she was alone again save for the screaming souls trapped in the walls. It was a long time before she could continue to climb.

  The door to the inner sanctum was made of solid gold. The carved face of a demon leered out at Crystal as she mounted the last few steps and just before the door swung open, it bared its teeth. She stepped over the threshold and looked about. The slamming of the door behind her was so predictable that she didn’t even flinch.

  The walls of the room were covered in sheets of beaten gold, a cheerful fire burned in a small hearth, a huge desk took up over half the space, and strange and wonderful things were piled haphazardly about. A door seemed to lead to another room, although this first room took up the full diameter of the tower. There were no windows.

  Kraydak looked very much as he had in her mind. Maybe better. He wore a robe of blue velvet which had fallen open to expose the golden muscles of his chest and he smiled kindly.

  “Now what, little one?” he asked. “How are you to defeat me in single combat when you barely made it up the stairs?”

  Clenching her teeth, Crystal pulled herse
lf erect and reached into her belt. With what was almost the last of her strength, she sent the small silver knife flying straight for Kraydak’s heart.

  He plucked it easily from the air, turned it into a dove, and crushed the life from the bird with one immaculately manicured hand. He never stopped smiling.

  Crystal hadn’t expected it to work, but she had to try. Unfortunately, that used up just about all she had left. Where was the dragon?

  “You’re dripping on the carpet,” Kraydak chided her. He waved his hand and she was warm and dry in a gown of green silk that dipped and clung to her body. Her hair floated around her like a silver-white cloud. His smile changed slightly and he licked his lips. His expression reminded Crystal of the demon on the door.

  Crystal could only watch as her feet carried her within his reach.

  He wrapped a hand possessively around her throat and she shuddered.

  “It’s been lonely for me these last thousand years. You don’t know what it’s like to be the only one of your kind, always alone.” His smile saddened. “Of course, if you’d managed to kill me, you would’ve found out. But you can’t kill me and, fortunately for us both, I have no need to kill you. Yet. When I do . . .” He shrugged. “Well, I am used to being lonely.”

  The hand around her throat was the hand he’d used to crush the bird. It was sticky with blood.

  “You have lovely skin,” he murmured against her cheek.

  His hand began to stroke her throat and it caught on the silver chain. He drew it tight, so that the links began to cut into the back of her neck.

  “Very pretty,” he said, lifting the opal to admire it. “Dwarf work, isn’t it? I never had much to do with the Elder Races. Perhaps I should remedy that when the novelty of your company wears thin.”

  Where was the . . .

  “What?” Kraydak raised an eyebrow in inquiry. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re waiting for? Not dwarves, surely? Don’t tell me you’ve recruited the Elder to your cause.”

  The Elder . . . Crystal concentrated what little strength she had left on forming the image of C’Tal in her mind, the great black body, the flowing hair and beard, each pompous and pedantic utterance she’d been forced to endure for six long years.

  Kraydak easily brushed it aside. “A good likeness, little one, but you can’t hope to block me with something I know far better than you. The centaurs taught all the wizards. It’s what they do, and I stayed with them a very long time. An opportunity I could not allow you to take.”

  Every time you’re just Crystal . . . said Doan’s voice in her memory.

  Bryon then. The laughter in his eyes, the touch of his hand, the feel of his breath on her mouth, his body lying crumpled and broken on the ground.

  “Not bad . . .” The ancient wizard nodded thoughtfully. “But you let me in at the end. You forgot, you see, who put him on the ground.”

  Crystal held tight to her anger. It would not be a shield now, but a doorway for him to slide through and into her mind. Something that must not happen. Carefully, for this was her last chance, she built up layer by layer a silver tree. Not the ancient birches of the hamadryads, but the thirteenth tree in the circle, a young tree, barely marked by time. It was the tree that made her different, negated the superficial kinship between herself and Kraydak, defined from the very beginning the type of person Crystal would become.

  Beneath the pressure of Kraydak’s mind the tree bent and swayed, but it held. He drew the chain he still held tighter, golden brows drawn down with annoyance. “They say dwarf-made links never break. I could behead you with this. It wouldn’t be pleasant.”

  Crystal thought of the tree.

  “You will tell me what you’re trying so hard to hide.” He forced her chin up. “You’ve been quite a diversion, wizard-child, and I’m sure you’ll find ways to amuse me for a long time to come but, for now, all I ask is that you look at me.”

  Crystal had no strength left to refuse. The tree withered and died and she met his eyes.

  Blue. Very blue. Wrapped in blue . . . sinking in blue . . . wanting it to consume her.

  So that’s what it feels like, was her last conscious thought.

  She didn’t see the look of raw terror on Kraydak’s face when at last he found what she had hidden and, seconds later, she didn’t see the golden tail which sheared the roof cleanly from the walls, nor the expression of triumph on the dragon’s face when the mighty jaws closed and the Wizard’s Doom found Kraydak at last.

  It was probably fortunate she didn’t see the mess the dragon made as he fed.

  Finished with Kraydak, the dragon looked down at the wizardling lying crumpled on the floor, opened his mouth to destroy her as well and suddenly changed his mind. She didn’t look like a wizard, nor smell like one, and he was certain she wouldn’t taste like one.

  “Harmlesss,” he decided and spread his wings to leave.

  “If you leave her here, she’ll die.”

  The dragon turned his head and fixed Lord Death in one sapphire eye. “Ssso?”

  “You must return her to her people.”

  “Mussst?” The dragon snorted a brief burst of flame, as close to laughter as he could come. His wings beat at the air. “Mussst?”

  Lord Death nodded. “You owe her. She woke you. She made it possible for you to destroy your creator. If you allow her to die, you’re no better than he was.”

  “Better than wizzzard!” His tail, whipping from side to side in agitation, destroyed a large section of wall.

  “Prove it. Take her home.”

  The dragon reared, but Lord Death stood quietly, staring up at him. Finally the great beast sighed and scooped Crystal up in massive talons. “Yesss.” Then, wings spread for flight, he paused.

  “Ssson of Mother . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “Why sssave?”

  Lord Death reached up and untangled several lengths of silvery white hair. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I really don’t know.”

  * * *

  “Crystal? Crystal? Mikhail! I think she’s awake!”

  “Crystal?”

  She felt Mikhail’s hand clutching hers, knew it was Tayer placing the wet cloth on her forehead, and struggled to open her eyes. Why was everything so blue? Gradually the blues began to fade, replaced by browns and golds and reds and blacks, colors which finally shifted to become her mother’s worried face. She looked for her voice, found it, and croaked, in nothing resembling her usual tones, “I’m hungry.”

  To her surprise, Tayer began to cry and it was the Duke of Belkar who held the cup of soup to her mouth while Mikhail held his wife.

  “What . . .”

  “Drink up,” Belkar commanded, not letting her finish, his own eyes bright with tears. “You’re nothing but skin and bones. You look like you’ve been out a month instead of just a week.”

  Crystal obeyed, partly because she had no energy to protest and partly because satisfying the enormous hunger that clawed at her was more important at the moment than getting answers. When the cup was empty, she sighed and tried to sit up. It wasn’t a great success and she sank back against the pillows, breathing heavily.

  “What happened?” she managed to gasp.

  “You tell us,” Mikhail said, taking the cup from Belkar and refilling it. He propped Crystal up and she drank greedily while he talked.

  “Eight days ago, we woke and were told you’d vanished. Late that night, something huge flew over, terrified the horses, and dropped you in the middle of the camp. You’ve been lying here, unconscious, ever since.”

  Finished with the second mug, Crystal tried a smile. Her lips felt stiff. “The dragon,” she said. “Then Kraydak is dead.”

  Mikhail frowned. “Are you sure? He escaped before.”

  Crystal shook her head and wished she hadn’t when the room danced with blue
spots.

  “Not this time.” Her voice, rough as it was, held such conviction that they had to believe her. “The dragon brought me back after it killed Kraydak.”

  “How can you know?”

  She spread her hands. “I’m here.” It was the only answer that fit. She’d never know why the dragon had let her live; she didn’t really care. Being alive was enough.

  Belkar beamed down at her. “You said he’d have to make a mistake for you to win. He didn’t, though, and you still beat him.”

  “No. He made a mistake.”

  “What?” scoffed the duke. “You were stronger. You beat him at his own game.”

  “That was his mistake.” She peered up at Belkar from under suddenly heavy lids. “He never realized that I wasn’t playing.” A massive yawn threatened to split her face. “The war?” she managed as sleep pushed her back into the pillows.

  “Over,” said Mikhail, pulling the covers up under her chin. “The Melacians sued for peace the morning after you reappeared.”

  “Good,” she murmured and slid into blackness.

  With the resilience of youth, the heritage of the Lady, and what seemed like gallons of chicken soup, she regained her strength quickly, eating and sleeping and listening for only a week before she left her bed. Already plans were being made to go into Melac, find the true king, and put him back on the throne. Belkar was certain that the conquered countries would slip back into their previous boundaries, but Cei wasn’t so sure. He felt there would be more bloodshed before the disintegrating Empire straightened itself out. Crystal agreed with Cei.

  She soon discovered that most of the army had gone home; only the dukes and their people remained. And a young couple who refused to leave without seeing her.

  “We couldn’t leave until we got your blessing on our joining.”

  Crystal smiled at the young woman who had been her maid and the soldier she had taken from the hand of Lord Death. “For what it’s worth, you have it. And my deep wishes for your happiness as well.”

  The two blushed and grinned and headed for the door where the ex-maid paused and shook her head. She turned back to the bed as if determined that a distasteful task must be done. “Promise me, milady,” she pleaded, “that you won’t wear red again. It simply isn’t your color.”