Wielder: Adept: Book 2 of Lady Shey's Story (The Wielder Cycle)

by Mark E. Tyson

  Ianthill looked worried. “How long ago did you say you saw Gondrial?”

  “It wasn’t more than half an hour ago,” Sanmir said.

  Shey heard the low growl again, but the porter had already moved away, toward the ship. It wasn’t him. “Um, Ianthill?”

  “Why don’t you all get aboard the ship. I will wait for him here,” Ianthill said.

  Shey slowly and deliberately reached for her daggers sheathed on her sides. Other than when she was in the presence of the great pryus, she had taken to wearing them everywhere she went. She was glad she had strapped them back on as soon as she had left the palace.

  “Go on. You will be safer on the ship than out here on the docks,” Ianthill said. As soon as the words left his mouth, the porter yelped and threw the luggage he was carrying into the air, along with one of his former arms. “What the . . . ?”

  Shey whirled around, daggers flashing in the moonlight. The source of the growl howled as Shey’s daggers met their mark. “Run to the ship!”

  Ramzi instinctively shielded Marella and ushered her along the dock to the gangplank. Shey felt a rush of essence, and suddenly, Ianthill had a glowing red staff in his hands. He spun it around and tapped the dock. Red paw prints appeared everywhere. He moved to where the prints were still appearing as Shey followed Sanmir to the gangplank. There were no paw prints leading up the gangplank to the ship. Ianthill backed his way up the gangplank and kicked it aside when he reached the top. “Sanmir, Ramzi, fill those sails and get us out of here, but not too fast. The Black Water River can be treacherous to navigate with speed.”

  The wind picked up from the calm night and filled the sails.

  “Wait!” Shey said excitedly. “What about Gondrial and Rikard?”

  “We will come back for them when the danger has passed.” He let the ethereal quarterstaff fade into thin air. “I have a feeling Rikard is nearby, anyway.”

  The ship moved slowly, lumbering out into the current of the Black Water River.

  Rikard watched as the boy skipped away after talking to Ianthill on the dock. The vision was right. They do suspect me, he thought. He patted the head of the Unseen next to him. “It’s your time.” The creature ran after the boy. Rikard strolled up after the Unseen had done its terrible deed. Rikard avoided the message and took the dragon stone instead. Almost as an afterthought, he reached down and took the gold piece. He slipped the money into his pocket and palmed the dragon stone. He patted the Unseen on the head again. “I cannot take you with me, Asad. It’s time for you to meet your fate. He stroked the beast, and it replicated into three. “Go, kill them, but do not harm Shey.” The beasts lumbered off, back toward the dock. Rikard drew in essence since he did not have command over any kind of dragon magic, and infused it into the dragon stone. He felt the magic working. The dragons fashioned the stones to be versatile, he thought. He looked up to see Gondrial running toward him as the stone began to take him. He was sure to give Gondrial a friendly smile as he disappeared.

  Gondrial began cursing as he reached the spot where Rikard had just been. “I will knock that smug smile off his face the next time I see him.” He looked down at the dead boy. He picked up the message and saw the seal of Ianthill impression in the wax. “You poor boy. I’m sorry you had to get mixed up in this. I had better find out whom I need to talk to for you—” He heard the scream of someone near the docks. Fearing it might be his companions, he left the boy and ran in a sprint. He rounded a corner in time to see Shey whirl around and use her daggers. He felt a pang of pride for her well up in him.

  Ianthill began to use a glowing red staff as the rest headed for the ship. Gondrial searched the dock on the other side of the ship and saw his opportunity. He ran to the berth and climbed over several crates, which he planned to use as a jumping off point, to leap to the ship, opposite where his friends boarded. He worked up his nerve and then jumped over the last barrel tied to the crates, and landed stomach-first onto the ship’s side rail. He fell to the deck, trying to draw breath. Up above, he saw the sails fill with air, and the ship lumbered along away from the docks.

  Shey watched as the docks moved almost out of sight. She had not realized how much she had grown to care for that pompous rogue named Gondrial. She turned to Ianthill. “When are we going to sail back? What if he walks up to the docks right into a pack of those Unseen?”

  “Who, Gondrial? He can take care of himself. I would be more worried about him facing that Lich than I would about the Unseen.”

  “Well, it appears you do not have to worry about either,” Gondrial said as he wandered up behind them.

  “Gondrial!” Shey said. She ran up to him and embraced him. Then she remembered she was still mad at him. She pushed him away and slapped him hard across the face.

  “What was that for?” he said, rubbing his check.

  “The first of many, I’m sure!” she said.

  “Where is Rikard?” Ianthill asked.

  “He’s gone.” Gondrial reached into his pocket and produced the message.

  “The young man?” Ianthill asked. Gondrial nodded his head.

  Ianthill slapped the message across his hand. “He found us out.” He looked at the seal to find it was still intact. “He didn’t read the message. He must have sensed the magical seal and known it would alert me.”

  “He used the dragon stone.”

  “Well of course he did,” Ianthill spat. “Now I am going to have to do something drastic to get us back. I know where he’s going.”

  “You do? How?”

  Ianthill eyed him for a long moment.

  “Ianthill, what do you know?” Gondrial asked again.

  “I-I . . .” He took a deep breath. “I sent the phylactery along already.”

  “You what? You knew what the phylactery was all along?” Shey asked. “Why in the world would you send it along? Why didn’t you destroy it?”

  “I took it to the great pryus, and together we discovered it cannot be destroyed here. Not by us. The only one who has a chance at destroying it is . . . Toborne.”

  “What was it? What was the phylactery?” Shey asked.

  Marella cleared her throat. “It was my quarterstaff. The one we picked up in Fariq.”

  “I knew that thing was too nice to be just lying there like that,” Gondrial said.

  “You knew about this too and didn’t tell me?” Shey asked Marella.

  “I didn’t know about it until Ianthill told me this afternoon so he could get it from me,” Marella said.

  “I was with you most of the afternoon,” Gondrial reminded her.

  “It was just before you found me to tell me to meet you at the docks.” Shey glared at her. “What? Ianthill told me to keep it quiet. I didn’t see you until we got to the docks, anyway. I didn’t have a chance to tell you.”

  “It no longer matters,” Ianthill said. “Rikard can travel much faster than we can now. He will be headed for the Vale of Morgoran.”

  “What are you going to do?” Gondrial asked. “Even if Sanmir and Ramzi opened up gale-force winds, it will take weeks to get to Symbor.”

  “I could levitate the ship. We used to travel that way all the time in the old days,” Ianthill said.

  “Fly the ship!” Gondrial went pale.

  “No, that still won’t get us there fast enough. We wouldn’t have the drag of the water, but I loathe the thought of keeping the ship aloft for several days. No, I must do something I swore I wouldn’t ever do again,” Ianthill said.

  Shey became concerned. “We aren’t traveling underwater or underground or something the sand elves can do, are we?”

  Ianthill laughed. “They took you to ground, did they? I remember that feeling, not pleasant. No, this is something else I said I would never do again.”

  “Oh no,” Gondrial said. “I know that face. This involves asking something from a woman, doesn’t it?”

  “She’s the only one who can get us home fast enough. I just have to get the courage to summon h
er.”

  “Who, my mother?” Shey asked.

  “No,” Ianthill said. “Queen Amadyre.”

  Gondrial patted Shey on the back. “Have you ever seen a dragon up close?”

  “I have,” Marella said.

  Ianthill coughed. “I hope she doesn’t send that arrogant knight of hers instead.”

  “Vandrick isn’t that bad,” Gondrial said. “He’s just serious, and dedicated.”

  “I thought the red city was in the Jagged Mountains?” Shey asked. “Didn’t you say that distance was too far to travel by dragon stone?”

  “It is. Amadyre and Vandrick are on the island of Rugania. Vandrick is the first dragon knight. He and Amadyre help instruct new wielders,” Gondrial told her.

  “She will have a large enough Lora Daine to take us all at once,” Ianthill said. “We can probably make it home in three jaunts from here. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to prepare a dragon’s beacon and hope she isn’t too far away to sense it.” Ianthill walked toward the rear of the ship.

  Rikard disguised himself under a black cloak and cloth mask, secured the suppression stone in his pocket, and kept to the shadows as he descended the stairs to the rooms down below. He found Toborne pacing in his not-so-hidden room beneath the Tower of Morgoran. The least-liked member of the fabled First Trine was hovering over a dragon’s egg, contemplating some unknown problem. “Exalted Toborne.”

  Toborne whirled around to face Rikard. “Who the thunder are you?”

  Rikard kept to the shadow of the doorway. He decided not to use his real name. “I am called Naneden.”

  “Naneden? That sounds a lot like the Siladil word for . . .”

  “Lich. I know. Fear not, I am not a Lich.”

  Toborne scoffed. “I wouldn’t fear you if you were! Why are you here, Naneden?”

  “I know what you want, and I have the means for you to achieve your goal.”

  “What do you know of me? What do you know of my wants and needs?”

  Rikard felt the familiar swirling of essence around him, flowing into Toborne. He held out the gem, and the drawing of essence died down. “I know of this. It is the gem of magic suppression. If you wish to control all of dragonkind, you must first subdue the Silver Drake. But you know this already. You have tried to subdue her before. You will need to use this on her to be successful. She will be powerless.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a jade statuette. “Use the gem and then put her essence, her will, into this . . . phylactery. Once you do so, you will be free to use the power of the Silver Drake to control all of dragonkind, defeat the Oracle and his armies, and rule as you see fit.”

  Toborne’s maniacal smile turned into a frown. “Nice trick, dissipating essence like that. If the will of the Silver Drake is in that statuette, then how am I to use the Silver Drake to do my bidding?”

  Rikard rolled his eyes, even though Toborne could not see him do so, and then chose his words carefully. “The Silver Drake is a creation of the First Trine and gifted by the gods. Without its will, it’s a mindless thing, a tool to be brandished.”

  “I am one of the First Trine.” He took a step closer to Rikard. “Morgoran created that gem, boy. I already know all about it. And the statuette, I pioneered that technique. Now, leave me to my work before I show you instead of tell you who I am.”

  “The death and the destruction.”

  “What was that? What did you say?”

  “Aedreagnon, the god of chaos. He told me to bring this to you. He said you could control the Silver Drake with it and trap her soul. He said you stole the power to do so from him.”

  Toborne’s dull gaze told Rikard the wielder was puzzled and intrigued. Then Toborne laughed. “What good is any of that to you? If you give me the gem, what do you get from this?”

  “I enjoy dancing on the other side, playing with fire, straddling the line. Do we have a deal or not?” He held out the gem closer toward Toborne.

  “I think not. There are no assurances other than your word, and you hide like a coward behind a cloak and mask,” Toborne said.

  Rikard whispered a dark enchantment, and the gem began to glow red. He took a step closer to Toborne. When the wielder tried to speak, nothing came out. Toborne’s face contorted, he was almost panic-stricken. He opened his mouth again, and his tongue rotted away and spilled out in a black fluid. He was powerless to stop it. Heightened panic escalated in his eyes. Rikard released his hold on the gem, whispered a few words, and Toborne’s tongue was restored.

  “You could have proved yourself without mutilating me! Am I supposed to fear you now, Lich? Am I supposed to trust your word because you can wield dark enchantments? You are not very good at this, are you? You have a lot to learn about manipulation and intimidation. You may be a Lich, but you are no dark master wielder. You are nothing more than an adept at best.”

  Rikard drew in a sudden breath. “But . . . I’m not the Lich.”

  “Aye, I can tell who you are, Naneden, or should we call you Rikard? I am a bit confused.”

  “But how?” he faltered.

  “The same way I know a furry little animal that meows is a cat.” He smirked. “Give me the gem.”

  Rikard closed his fist before Toborne could grab the gem. “In due time.”

  Toborne, with the flick of a forefinger, made Rikard’s hand burn as if it was thrust directly into a fire. Rikard released the gem. It fell to the floor and then flew into Toborne’s waiting hand. He turned away from Rikard and snapped his fingers. The jade statuette floated behind him as he walked to the nearest table. He sat the gem down as the statuette floated down beside it onto the table. He whirled to face Rikard. “As I said, I invented the use of these statuettes, with a little help from Aedreagnon. I sense his presence about you, and that is the only reason I will let you live to walk out of this place. That is, if you have the correct answers for my friend.” He walked to a door imbedded into the stone wall Rikard had not noticed before. “Morgoran thinks he helped me, but his contributions were minimal at best. I just needed him to witness that I was not doing something . . . evil or inappropriate. You know, to keep the others from snooping around and watching me all the time.” His words dripped with sarcasm. He opened the door. “You can come in here now. He did just as you predicted.”

  “Naturally. You doubted me?” A figure stepped through the doorway. He had blond hair and sported a golden cloak. He was handsome and well groomed. “Allow me to introduce myself, cleric of Aedreagnon. My name is Kambor. I am the Oracle.” He took a quarterstaff out from beneath his golden robes. “Welcome to the Vale of Morgoran . . . Naneden. I think it is time for you and me to have a discussion.”

  Chapter 16: Secret Places

  The first place Shey and Marella showed Gondrial and Ramzi when the Lora Daine brought them to Enowene’s tower was the hole in the outer wall where Shey used to stay before Mavis mistook her for an apprentice and ushered her into the tower. Shey couldn’t believe Enowene had still not repaired the wall.

  “You used to live in this break in the wall?” Gondrial asked Shey.

  “It was my primary hiding place, aye, but I didn’t always sleep here. Sometimes, when it rained, I had other drier places to sleep. I liked staying here because of the flowers and the grounds.”

  Marella took Shey’s hand. “Come on, let’s see our old rooms.”

  “Ha, it took me forever to get you to call them our rooms.”

  Ianthill and Sanmir were at the tower door when the girls walked up. Ianthill knocked on the door. A portly, aged woman with grey hair and a sour disposition opened it. “Aye, who’s calling?”

  “Mavis!” Marella said.

  “We’re back!” Shey added.

  “Oh, the stars in heaven, Princess Marella Arden and Sheyna Namear! Come here, you two!” The woman gave them both a giant bear hug. “Mistress Enowene will be so pleased to see you both.”

  “She’s here, then?” Ianthill asked.

  “Where else would she be?” Mavi
s asked.

  “There she is. There is the Mavis I know,” Ianthill said.

  “Who is it, Mavis?” A sweet-sounding female voice floated from down the hallway.

  “Master Ianthill and some fool boys!” She winked at Shey. “I think I should send them all away.” Mavis smiled at Marella. “That should get her rushing out here,” she whispered. “She will be so surprised to see you.”

  “Mavis, show them in at once,” Enowene said as she seemed to float down the hallway. Shey and Marella stepped into view when she appeared at the door. “Oh my goodness, Marella and Sheyna!” She ran out to greet them. She glanced at Ianthill, and he nodded. “And adepts now. Congratulations! Come inside, all of you. Mavis, go to the kitchen and tell them we will have five more to eat breakfast, and bring us some bittering tea.”

  “Aye, I will at once, mistress,” Mavis said before waddling off down the hallway.

  Enowene gave both Shey and Marella a hug and then led them all down the hallway to the private dining hall. She sat Ianthill at the head of the table and took the spot on the side next to him. “What news do you have? How long will you be here?”

  “I’m afraid Shey, Sanmir, and I must be going directly after breakfast,” Ianthill said.

  “Oh, and which one is Sanmir?”

  Ianthill seemed embarrassed. “You are right. Where are my manners? Gondrial you know.” Gondrial tipped his finger at her in greeting.

  “Of course I know Gondrial.”

  “The fellow sitting next to Marella is Ramzi, and this gentleman opposite you is Sanmir. They are both new adepts on loan to me from the great pryus of Darovan.” Sanmir and Ramzi both got up and went to Enowene to greet her properly by kissing her on each cheek.

  “All right, now that the introductions are out of the way. I am leaving Ramzi, Marella, and Gondrial here with you. They have a very important task to complete, and they need your help to complete it.”

  Mavis brought the bittering tea and poured it. After she had gone, Ianthill continued. “It is more important than ever before that we find Arbella.”