Close Encounters of the Magical Kind

by Jeffrey M. Poole

  Sarah quickly looked away before she could burst out in giggles. Ms. Alwyn glared at him before retreating in a huff.

  The second instance happened 15 minutes later. A loud clattering began and grew progressively louder. Sarah had looked up from her book about the care of exotic orchids when the ruckus began. She looked over at her husband and rolled her eyes.

  “What do you think Ms. Congeniality has got planned for us this time?” he mused.

  Andra Alwyn appeared, dragging a cart laden with books behind her. If Sarah didn’t know any better she could have sworn Andra, judging from the noises coming from her cart, was angling to hit every rut on the floor. The tiny archivist ignored the two of them and concentrated on the contents of her cart. She methodically moved around the room, placing books back on various shelves.

  Husband and wife ignored the intrusion.

  After the fifth interruption, Steve reached for the small stack of request slips Andra had left on their table. He flipped it over and composed another message. Watching from the shadows, a uniformed guard appeared the moment Steve finished writing his message. The slip of paper was folded in half and handed to the guard, all without either of them saying a word.

  “I sure hope you just did what I think you did,” Sarah whispered as she changed books. Her discard pile was growing and she was nowhere closer to learning where to find the elusive orbsceia flower, let alone it even existed.

  “Wait for it,” Steve told her, adding another book to their discard pile.

  Thirty seconds later a loud shriek shattered the tranquility of the peaceful Archives.

  “Unhand me! I will not be treated in this manner!”

  Ms. Alwyn, now intent on polishing every brass placard on the rack of books closest to the husband and wife team, hadn’t noticed the same two burly guards from before approach. Together they easily lifted the tiny sputtering woman from the ground and quickly left the room.

  Finally, after two hours of uninterrupted research, Sarah admitted defeat. They had perused every book they could find that even remotely mentioned indigenous Lentarian pontal and could find no trace, not even a footnote that mentioned the orbsceia flower the Fae wanted.

  “Now what?” Steve asked as he snapped the last book from his stack closed and pushed it across the table to join the mountain of discards. “We’re running out of time. We’ve spent nearly half the day in here and we are no closer than we were when we first stepped foot inside this place.”

  “What about asking Shardwyn?” Sarah suggested. She noticed the frown on her husband’s face and sighed. “I know it isn’t ideal, but we are running out of options. Hopefully he knows something about it or else can point us in the right direction.”

  “Fine. We’ll play it your way. Let’s go see what that goofball has to say.”

  Sarah heard a distant snort of laughter. It had sounded like Andra Alwyn. She knew the batty old record keeper had been confined to her desk. Could she have possibly heard Steve’s comment about Shardwyn? Maybe the old goat had a personality after all.

  Leaving the Archives behind, much to the archivist’s delight, Sarah led her husband out of the castle and towards Shardwyn’s tower. This tower, Sarah knew, was both home and workshop to Lentari’s resident wizard. The location of Shardwyn’s tower, away from the castle proper, was not a matter of convenience but by kingly decree.

  “I have to wonder when was the last time he blew something up,” Steve mused.

  “Does it matter?” Sarah asked, curious.

  “Sure. If it’s been a while then that means he’s due. I don’t suppose we could get him to come out here, could we?”

  Sarah grabbed her husband’s hand and forcibly pulled him inside the large stone tower.

  “Stop being a baby. There’s nothing in there that could hurt us.”

  Unbeknownst to her, the tower’s next explosion was less than five minutes away, and for once, Shardwyn would actually be able to say that he wasn’t responsible.

  Climbing up several flights of stairs Sarah knocked three times on the heavy oak door. Sniffing loudly, she leaned towards the door and frowned. She could detect a number of different scents, the most prevalent reminding her of a potion gone wrong. She eyed her husband and gently opened the door.

  “Shardwyn? Are you in? Is anyone home?”

  A bright-eyed boy of sixteen rounded the corner and smiled at them.

  “Hello. Can I help you?”

  Steve shook his head, “Not unless you took an anti-aging potion, kid. Is Shardwyn here? We need to talk to him.”

  “He’s up in the loft, looking for some book he insists is up there. I tried to remind him he burnt it up two weeks ago but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “Who are you?” Sarah asked, genuinely curious. “I didn’t know Shardwyn had an assistant.”

  “I’m his new apprentice,” the teenager proudly declared. “I’m Gareth.”

  Sarah held out a hand and waited for the boy to grasp her forearm in the manner Lentarians used to greet each other.

  “I’m Sarah. This is my husband, Steve. We’re pleased to meet you, Gareth.”

  The dark haired boy blinked with surprise. He looked over at Steve and his eyes opened wide.

  “You’re the Nohrin, aren’t you? Lady Sarah, the teleporter, and Sir Steve, the fire thrower. I can’t believe I finally get to meet you! Although, if I’m going to be honest, we kinda met a few years ago.”

  Steve repeated the Lentarian method of grasping forearms and raised an eyebrow at the friendly boy.

  “We’ve met before? Really? Under what circumstances?”

  Gareth suddenly appeared suspicious, nervous even.

  “Umm, let’s just say the conditions were less than favorable.”

  Jumping to the conclusion that her husband must have given the boy one of his trademark scowls at some point in the past, Sarah frowned. She crossed her arms over her chest as she glared at her husband, wondering what he could have possibly done this time.

  “Steve, is there something you need to tell me? How could you have…?” Sarah turned to Gareth and smiled apologetically. “You know what? That’s an argument for another time. I’m so very sorry for whatever he did. Believe it or not he’s a really a nice guy.”

  “Now wait a moment,” Steve began, giving Sarah an imploring look. “I didn’t do anything!”

  “I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Gareth corrected, coming to Steve’s aid. “I’m the one who did some stuff a few years ago that I probably shouldn’t have.”

  Curiosity piqued, Steve cleared his throat.

  “Like what? You would have been, what, ten years old at that time? What could you have possibly done?”

  “Well, for starters, I was twelve when this happened. I, uh, might have been responsible for forcing you to experience what it was like to be a dragon for a while.”

  Sarah’s eyebrows shot straight up. This boy was responsible for the time she, Steve, and Pryllan had switched bodies? That could only mean… Alarmed, she glanced at her husband. Steve, much to his credit, knew instantly who he was facing. His face had paled. Sarah swallowed nervously. This wasn’t going to be good.

  “You’re the renegade wizard,” Steve accused.

  Sarah would later recall that it had felt like time itself seemed to have slowed to a crawl. Her husband threw an arm around her waist and yanked her backwards so that he was physically between Gareth and her. His hands ignited and Sarah watched, mesmerized, as both arms were raised. Steve blasted a huge jet of fire straight at Gareth, intending to wipe the smile right off his face.

  Gareth let out a cry of alarm, made an arm gesture of his own, and leapt back. The full brunt of Steve’s blast hit Gareth head on, only instead of being fried to a crisp the fires bounced harmlessly off the young wizard’s hastily created protective shield. However, Gareth was knocked off his feet by the sheer brute strength of the blast. He hastily scuttled behind a large threadbare sofa that was sitting in the middle of the ro
om.

  “Wait!” Gareth pleaded. “I’m not the same person anymore. I won’t hurt you, I promise!”

  Holding Sarah tightly against his chest so that she’d be protected from his flames, Steve concentrated on the sofa. In seconds it had been reduced to ash, forcing Gareth to dive behind a large wooden bureau a few feet away.

  A thick tentacle of water broke through the nearby window. The glistening tentacle singled out Steve and tried to wrap itself around his body in an effort to extinguish the flames. Sarah felt her husband tense and risked a glance up at his face. His eyes were screwed shut and he had a frown on his face. She felt him trembling and instantly knew what was about to happen. She pressed her face tightly against his chest and waited for the inevitable.

  The concussive blast vaporized the water tentacle instantly. It also, unfortunately, blasted out the glass in every single window in Shardwyn’s tower. Sarah heard a loud bell begin to toll. It was the castle’s alarm. Clearly someone in the castle had noticed a few peculiarities coming from Shardwyn’s tower.

  Sarah coughed. There was smoke everywhere. She didn’t know the extent of the damage inside Shardwyn’s workshop but she also knew it couldn’t be good. Her spinning mind focused back on the problem at hand. Gareth was the renegade wizard? Did Shardwyn know? Had Gareth overpowered the castle wizard in an attempt to usurp the eccentric old wizard’s powers? Well, not if she had anything to say about it.

  Sarah cast her eyes around the destroyed room. The smoke was just starting to thin and she was able to make out a few pieces of broken furniture. She could certainly pick those up and use them if she needed to, but first, she wanted answers. And judging by her husband’s body language, if she wanted answers then she’d better act now. Steve looked as though he was preparing to finish the job.

  “Gareth, I would suggest you come out,” Sarah hurriedly suggested. “And I do suggest you come out peacefully.”

  “Peacefully?” the young boy cried. Sarah could hear him but couldn’t see him. He must be either crouching just inside the curved hall that led to Shardwyn’s personal bedchamber or else that overturned chest of drawers. “He’s trying to kill me!”

  “Congrats, pal,” Steve scowled as he readied his next blast of fire. “Now you know what it feels like. Doesn’t feel too good, does it?”

  “I said I was sorry!” Gareth tried again. “I’m not the same person I was before! I’m not going to hurt anyone!”

  Sarah suddenly thought of the last conversation she had had with Mikal. Hadn’t the young prince said he had made a new friend? Hadn’t he mentioned something about a wizard?

  “By chance are you a friend of Mikal’s?” Sarah cautiously asked as she deliberately stepped in front of her husband, blocking his shot.

  “Aye! Mikal is the one who found out who I was. He helped me see the error of my ways! Please, can we cease this nonsense? Can I come out now?”

  Sarah laid a reassuring hand on her husband’s shoulder.

  “Let’s hear what he has to say,” she soothingly suggested to her husband. “I do remember Mikal saying something about this a while ago.”

  “I sure don’t,” Steve muttered, leaving both of his hands ignited. He scowled at Gareth as the boy’s head appeared over the overturned – and scorched – bureau he had been hiding behind.

  “What have we here?” a familiar voice asked. “Pleased, I am, to know that this time it wasn’t my fault.”

  A thin man in his seventies had appeared, wearing robes of pale green. He inspected the burnt walls, furniture, and his destroyed racks of potion ingredients. Smiling, he turned to Steve but then frowned as he noticed Steve was not returning the smile. Turning to see what he was scowling at, Shardwyn’s eyes widened.

  “I do believe I see what the problem is. Allow me to venture a guess, m’boy. You were not aware of young Gareth’s identity and most certainly weren’t aware of his status as my new apprentice. Am I right?”

  “You put my wife in danger, pal,” Steve accused, pointing a flaming finger at Gareth and completely ignoring Shardwyn. “That’s not something I can overlook any time soon.”

  “You are well within your rights to be angry with me,” Gareth quietly agreed, hurrying to Shardwyn’s side. “I have been thoroughly admonished by many people. I am trying to make amends for what I’ve done. That’s why I’m here.”

  “You’re telling me this is community service for you?” Steve asked, his frown still plastered across his face.

  “While not completely familiar with those terms, I do believe I understand the gist of what you’re saying. Aye. I am performing this service as an act of atonement. Besides, Shardwyn could use the help.”

  “I most certainly do not need your help,” Shardwyn grumped, turning to face his apprentice in what was clearly an ongoing debate between the two of them. “There’s nothing wrong with my potions and spells. I had everything sorted into appropriate piles. My potions were all labeled correctly.”

  “Labeled correctly but misfiled,” Gareth reminded him with a sigh. “And practically all your ingredients were so old that they were growing mold on them, Shardwyn. Mold! Is that what you really want to use in your potions?”

  “There’s nothing to be done about it now, dear boy,” Shardwyn mused as he inspected his charred table and the shattered bottles of his cherished ingredients.

  “No, this is perfect,” Gareth countered. “Now we have a chance to collect everything again, and this time we’ll make sure everything is fresh. You’ll have better results with your work, I promise you.”

  Steve approached and eyed Gareth coldly.

  “Tell me something. Were you the one that created that water snake thing and then tried to kill me with it?”

  “I wasn’t trying to kill you,” Gareth argued. “I was trying to put out your flames. I was just trying to get you to listen.”

  The heavy wooden door three floors below them banged open. They all heard a myriad of shouts as dozens of feet clambered up the stairs. Gareth rolled his eyes.

  “I’ve got it this time, Shardwyn.”

  The boy hurried out the singed door and disappeared down the stairs.

  “What does he have?” Sarah asked Shardwyn.

  “We each take turns assuring the guards that we’re all right,” the wizard explained.

  “How often does that happen?” Steve curiously asked.

  “Typically once a week.”

  “You have an accident in here once a week?” Steve repeated, appalled.

  “It’s not nearly this extreme,” Shardwyn admitted with a smile. “Last week I accidentally summoned Bredo. To say he was less than thrilled would have been an understatement. He made quite a mess in here before we were able to get him back to the moat.”

  Sarah chuckled to herself as she imagined the huge snake appearing in their midst. Gareth reappeared. There was someone accompanying him. Someone tall.

  “Shardwyn,” Captain Pheron began in an exasperated tone, “what was it this time?”

  “This time it wasn’t me,” Shardwyn chortled with glee. “It was Sir Steve.”

  “Sir Steve did this?” Captain Pheron then noticed that Shardwyn and his assistant weren’t alone. “My apologies, Sir Steve. Lady Sarah. I did not know you were in here.”

  “Sorry, buddy,” Steve began as he looked around at the destruction in the room. “Turns out the renegade wizard I’ve come to loathe and despise was in this very room. Had an unfortunate reaction, that’s all.” Steve gave the young boy a neutral look. “Whether or not that happens again remains to be seen.”

  “Ah,” Captain Pheron knowingly said. “That explains much. I had forgotten no one had bothered to explain to you that the renegade wizard had been found. So, do you require assistance?”

  Sarah stepped between her husband and Shardwyn’s apprentice and then turned to face the captain.

  “We’re good, Pheron. I think we all got off on the wrong foot here.”

  Mollified, Pheron nodded, “Very wel
l. If you find that you require assistance, please do not hesitate to let my men know.”

  The tall captain headed for the stairs just as Sarah turned to Steve.

  “I don’t trust him,” Steve muttered, staring hard at Gareth, who refused to look his way.

  “I know you don’t, and I’m not asking you to,” Sarah quietly answered. “At least not yet. But, I do think you need to know something. You realize that you now own him, right?”

  “What?”

  “If what he says is true, and I’m inclined to believe him, that poor boy will do practically anything to make up for what he’s done to us. Let’s use that to our advantage. Let’s see if he can shed any light on a certain matter we need help with.”

  Overhearing the last part of their hushed conversation, Gareth eagerly stepped forward and gave a slight cough.

  “Did I hear that right? Do you need some help?”

  Steve shrugged and nodded towards the youth, indicating Sarah should do the talking.

  “As a matter of fact, we do,” Sarah admitted, smiling at the nervous boy. “Do you think you could help us out?”

  Gareth’s mouth opened to answer, but was instantly closed as a bony hand dropped on the teenager’s shoulder and he was pulled away.

  “Perhaps I could be of assistance, dear girl,” Shardwyn crooned, rubbing his hands together. The wizard turned to his assistant and indicated his destroyed rack of potion ingredients. “You have a lot of work to do, young Gareth. I do believe I will take you up on your offer of obtaining fresh ingredients for my potions. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Lady Sarah. You mentioned you require assistance? You have come to the right place. How may I assist you on this lovely day?”

  Sarah explained only enough to convince Shardwyn that they desperately needed to get their hands on an orbsceia flower. As to why they needed it, she refused to elaborate. The elderly wizard was silent as he sat back in his chair, looking thoughtful.

  “And you found no mention of this particular species of pontal in the Archives, dear girl?”

  “Not a word,” Sarah confirmed.