Wandmaster

by Valerie Kramboviti

  "Everything would have been all right if he hadn't come here." Mahoo became stern and answered firmly, "Tyloren is not the reason for our problems. He has been put in this place by the hand of an unseen player, call it fate if you will, and indeed has passed through despair and reached the very doors of death to get here. There is some other design at work behind this union of ours, and I am becoming more and more aware that some force is moving in our favour to give us a chance to defeat Ataxios and regain the crystals of Athrak. You, Braedon, and all of us here are just stones being moved around on a game board."

  "Let's hope luck is on our side," said Tyloren.

  "Only by playing out the game will we find out," said Mahoo, "and time is growing short. If we delay, we may interfere with the flow of events mapped out for us, and that would be very unwise."

  Loman placed a hand on his son's shoulder, pulling him into his embrace and a stifled sob escaped the boy's throat. Lenora, who had not spoken during all this exchange moved up and took her place on her son's other side. She looked at Tyloren, and said softly, "My son would like to apologise to you for his quick words. He is a very worthy young man and we are proud of him, but he has much to learn."

  Tyloren lifted a hand and shook his head, meaning to say that an apology was unnecessary, but Lenora silenced him with a slight smile and a determined look. Slowly, Braedon raised his head a little, but didn't meet Tyloren's eyes. "Sorry," he said simply, and Tyloren answered, "It's already forgotten." His words were greeted by a smile from Lenora, and she excused herself from the rest of the meeting to go home, taking Braedon with her talking softly to him as they left and moved off into the woods towards their home.

  Tollaman had engaged Mahoo in low conversation, seated beside him so that their two heads were close together, and in a language strange to Tyloren, the two men nodded and conferred for some minutes. Then, the slight form of the slint stood up and stared long and hard, first at Tyloren and then at Loman before giving them a nodded acknowledgment and taking leave.

  "Our friend Tollaman has seen and understood much today and will now brief his tribe on all that has taken place. They may be of some little help to us, at least in guiding us back to the crystal cave, which led you out into their world. They know all this valley like the back of their hand and will be able to keep watch and lead us stealthily and safely back there without being discovered. From time to time we see small groups of spindlies in exploratory expeditions, but so far, they haven't found our valley."

  "That means there is probably an easier access way in and out of the Athrak tunnels than that found by you, Tyloren," mused Loman.

  "Yes, Tollaman and his folk know the exit point," agreed Tyloren, "but as far as they know, the way Tyloren came out is as yet undiscovered by the spindlies."

  "That gives us an advantage," added Loman speculatively. "Lets hope we can use it wisely."

  Chapter 24

  Kavernor Heights

  Life as a guardian had its drawbacks. Long marches, days without a decent shower or change of clothes, short rations, guard duties and all the other things that went with the package, but it was at least a way of life. You knew what you had to do every day and where your responsibilities lie. Jazlyn, after her flight to deliver supplies to the other guardians, was now restless. She was a doer not a sitter and she spent many hours bitterly resenting the fact that she was trapped here in the hills in the mountain village nursing the people of Kinguard. Someone had to do it, she knew, but the fact that it was her, and the knowledge that it was punishment made it very hard to take. She had taken to walking in the hills around the encampment on the pretext of keeping watch. She often wandered farther from the encampment than wisdom should have allowed, but there wasn't much else to do and there was no-one to tell her not to do it, so she did. It gave her time to think and she certainly had a lot to think about.

  First and foremost on her mind was one John Stone, Wandmaster. A smile often crept across her face when she remembered their walk in the forest before the long stringy Nya had come on the scene and spoiled everything. And then there were the consequences! The scenes afterwards with Menoneth and with her own mother, Vilma reminding her that her head was for thinking with and not losing at the first opportunity. Had she realized how close she had come to disaster, not only for herself, but also for the Realm? The Crystal Wand was almost lost, and for what? For a frolic in the woods? Was it worth it? Well, no probably not. But it came a close second.

  "And now where am I?" she said aloud, stuck here mollycoddling a lot of villagers. Her footsteps took her on and up away from the settlement to the highest point of Kavernor hills, to a spot which overlooked the Realm and from which point she often scanned the landscape towards the north and Athrak sending out thoughts to John, and indeed to her mother. From where she stood, she could see the dragonfly fields where the beasts were grazing on some tall vegetation, flitting from one flowering stem to the other, tended by a keeper. She wondered why there were not more flights; the creatures could be used perhaps for spying out the land. The truth was that the flyer she had replaced was not that young any more, and anyway, the guardians had their own traditions, their major role being the protection of the Temple crystals in Wandguard and the Wandmaster himself. That was work you did on foot, and seldom did the flyers come even to Wandguard. It was far more common for provisions to come in from Kinguard through the secret pass on foot or on pack animals.

  She heard a voice behind her.

  "Hey, Jazlyn, wait up!" As she swung round, her braided hair standing out from her head, she saw Marny running up the hill behind her.

  "I should have known!" she muttered to herself. More and more often these days Menoneth's young daughter had been turning up at Jazlyn's side on her walks, uninvited and full of chatter. Jazlyn had a suspicion that Marny had been fascinated by the events surrounding the affair of her moonlight escapade with John Stone, and being a teenage girl with lots of energy, she felt attracted to Jazlyn as a person involved in the forbidden. She was hoping for some insight, maybe even a shared confidence about the events of that night. She was, in short, displaying a natural curiosity for her age.

  "I thought I was never going to catch up with you! Boy, do you walk fast!" laughed Marny breathlessly.

  "I was strolling. You haven't seen me when I'm going fast," joked Jazlyn and set off away from Marny at the fastest walk she could manage so that the youngster was left to race after her giggling and calling for her to stop. Eventually Jazlyn turned, putting her hands on her hips with a look of feigned boredom on her face, and pretended to yawn while she waited for Marny to catch up.

  "You're not normal! You walk like other people run. How am I supposed to keep up with you in all these skirts?" Marny panted, "at least you've got your guardian pants on and you've got freedom of movement. I wish father would let me wear pants and start training to be a guardian. I'm so sick of hanging around doing nothing."

  "You're a bit young yet for guardian training. You have to be 18 summers before you get taken into Wandguard. How old are you now?"

  "Only 15," groaned Marny. "I'll go crazy waiting for three years to pass.'

  "We all had to wait, you know."

  "Yeah, I suppose so, but I was born at the wrong time."

  "What in crystals does that mean?" asked Jazlyn.

  "Well, if I'd been born a few summers before, then I might have been a guardian in Wandguard when the new Wandmaster arrived, and then I could have been his one and only and not you!" Marny had such a cheeky grin on her face when she said this that Jazlyn found it hard not to laugh.

  "Keep your little fifteen-year-old nose out of my business Miss Curiosity! I'm not getting into a discussion about him with you so forget it. Now, if you want to walk with me then let's talk about something else, ok?"

  "What else is there to talk about, now let me see, oh yes, my brother. What about Wes?"

  "Marny!" Jazlyn turned on the teenage girl, now genuinely annoyed.

  "Wha
t?" returned the girl, "I just wondered what happened between you two. He's been missing for so long now. Have you heard from him?"

  "No," answered Jazlyn shortly, and turned her face away, ‘"to tell you the truth I'm very worried about him."

  "Father says he's got a lot on his mind. He thinks, well, he thinks it's got something to do with what happened to him, you know, when he was a lo." She said the last two words in a whisper and looked around nervously. "He says that Wes changed."

  "Look Marny, I'm not comfortable talking about this to you, ok? Ask your father not me."

  "Well you told me to talk about something else, didn't you? That's what came into my head. Sorry."

  "It's ok. So many things have happened recently, there aren't many safe things to talk about I suppose. Come on, let's head back to the camp. It'll soon be lunch time."

  The two girls turned on their heels and started back across the green open meadow, which led to the small glade of trees they had to go through to return.

  "What was guardian training like?"

  "Oh, you know, drills, guard duty, and miles and miles of hill trekking. Our feet are our first line of defence, you know. We walk everywhere and run if necessary for long distances." Jazlyn continued to tell Marny about guardian training as they walked, and related various episodes as memories popped into her head one by one. Suddenly there was a presence in her mind, a familiar one, but not a welcome one, and she spun round on the spot scanning the trees, going silent and raising a hand for Marny to do the same.

  "What is it?" whispered Marny with wide eyes.

  "Sshhh!" spat out Jazlyn, and motioned for Marny to come close, then she grabbed the girl's hand and started to run as fast as she could dragging her along behind. Marny, without knowing the reason, could sense Jazlyn's panic, and did her best in her long skirts to run, but she didn't manage much speed. Marny, in her fear, looked left and right of her as they reached the copse of trees, searching out the danger she couldn't see. "Don't look round! Run!" yelled Jazlyn as she felt the girl falter and turned to see what the reason was. She let out a gasp as her eye fell on the tall gangly form of Nya pushing aside the greenery in an attempt to reach them.

  "Oh! Crystals save us!," she shouted and wished she had a sword on her, but she had nothing.

  They were clear of the woods and had the settlement in sight, but Jazlyn knew he would reach them before she got to safety, so she turned to face the spindly, pushing Marny out of the way.

  "Get help!" she yelled to the young girl, and then turned to face the spindly coming up fast. "Run, Marny, run!"

  Marny only hesitated for a moment, and then she took off as fast as she could, shouting for help.

  Jazlyn stood her ground now, and waited for the arrival of Nya, who was loping towards her with long-legged strides. His mind was strong, and bent on her, but she repelled him as best she could from her head, and at the same time sent a panic signal herself. John Stone, standing high on a rocky pass watching the tumbling of the great falls heard her, and so did Vilma. They shot a look at each other, and immediately Vilma went off into a kind of trance, sending mental pictures of Jazlyn and Nya, to her sister back at the settlement with the feeling of urgency she had got from her daughter. John didn't know how to help Jazlyn from such a distance, but he acted on instinct. He withdrew into himself, sending his love and strength to her, and he pulled out the crystal wand he had strapped to his chest and held it on high, all his attention directed into it.

  Melindra was already gathering whoever could bear arms as Marny came charging into the settlement, and was cursing the fact that they were so unprepared. All the fighting men had left with Menoneth, the safety of the settlement being based more on secrecy than on force of arms. It had never been found before.

  Jazlyn, two-thirds Nya's height, stood firm. She planted her feet firmly and faced him. John was with her, she knew, and she ceased to be afraid. Nya slowed, but approached cautiously, looking to see if she was armed, making his plans.

  "Draw your sword, Jazlyn," came John's comforting voice in her head.

  "I'm unarmed!" she replied.

  "No. You're not. Draw your sword. Trust me!" Without taking her eyes off Nya, Jazlyn reached for where her sword would normally be strapped, and her hand closed around the hilt of an invisible weapon. She drew it out of its sheath and raised it before her, closing her other hand around it also so that she held it defensively, aimed at Nya. Raised before her, she could see the outline of a sword, but it was not of steel, it was of light, a dazzling sword-shape created from reflections, like the scintillation of a million jewels. Breathtaking, but at the same time deadly, she was sure.

  Nya gasped and drew back, and Jazlyn advanced, wielding the sword as if it were solid; she had the strength and confidence of her beloved Wandmaster with her.

  "You will not take me!" she cried. The sword sung as she stroked it through the air, as though its light had become sound. It cut and sliced, twanging, shrieking, howling and flashing as it sought its prey, and Jazlyn felt energized. She leapt forward, took a slash at the spindly, and caught his thigh. Immediately, a deep gash appeared in his flesh, and he caught at it with his hand, just as a stab caught him under the ribs and he went down. His blood was flowing profusely, and Jazlyn was enraged. She had learned how he had killed Althea, violently, and without mercy. She remembered her struggle with him in the dark at Kinguard, and suddenly she was the righteous executioner. John's decisiveness was in her. He wanted this creature dead, wanted to cut him deep and take away what little life he had. He wanted to protect Jazlyn and she felt the sword lusting after Nya's blood as she advanced again. It would be so easy to bring it down on the scrawny neck and end it all. Nya knew his end was inevitable, and from his throat, a thin whiny sob escaped, his ugly face screwed up and contorted in pain and despair. John in her head and in the sword was clamouring for death, but Nya was pleading for life in his last moments. He was a wounded animal in eye-to-eye contact with his hunter just before the deathblow, and Jazlyn was ready to deal it.

  "Yes. Death, yes!" sang the sword, and Jazlyn would have heeded its call if a hand behind her hadn't stayed her arm before it had a chance to fall.

  Marny had run as fast as her legs would carry her, sobbing as she ran, out of fear both for her own safety, but especially for Jazlyn's. Her heart beat fast in her chest and her breath wouldn't come as she choked on her own tears. She hadn't reached the entrance to the settlement when out came Melindra, closely followed by Cammaneth, and by the guardsmen whose job it was to watch the entrance. They were armed, and when she saw them, Marny started to shout deep from her throat as she coughed her way towards them.

  "Quick! Get to Jazlyn before he kills her!" Her voice was distorted with terror.

  "Who? How many are there?" asked Kortyn, one of the watchmen, a former guardian.

  "Just him. Nya! Nya, the spindly!"

  Kortyn was already heading off towards the copse, and shouted over his shoulder, "Pandrik, Shaklen, come with me." The three men set off at a very fast pace, due to their guardian background, despite their maturity, and soon reached the woods and disappeared inside. Marny was gathered into Melindra's arms and led back to the settlement while the remainder of the men followed Kortyn's small party at a slower pace.

  "Calm down and tell us exactly what happened!" ordered Cammaneth.

  "We were walking……sob…. And ……suddenly he was there….sob. He must have been hiding in the woods. He wanted Jazlyn!"

  "What in Crystals were you two doing out there all alone anyway? Don't you know why we're here? You may have endangered all of us with your stupidity, not just yourselves."

  "I didn't ……sob….think….we were doing any harm. I thought we were safe here!"

  "Nowhere's safe! And if you didn't know that before, then know it now and pray that Jazlyn's training helps her stay alive. That Nya creature has already killed."

  In the settlement there was uproar as the remainder of the inhabitants gathered togeth
er to wait for the return of the men. The news had spread and women were anxiously doing a headcount to see if anyone else was missing. Marny was taken to wash her face, drink a little water and then Melindra found a quiet corner and sat her down on a low wall, drawing a low chair up before her. She spoke to her slowly and softly, trying to glean any information she could from the young girl, and she shot anxious looks at the woods as the minutes slipped by and the men hadn't returned with Jazlyn. Delay was a bad sign.

  About half an hour passed, and Pandrik was seen trotting back from the copse alone. Everyone froze and the babble turned to silence as he arrived in the settlement and stopped, breathless.

  "There's no sign of either Jazlyn or the spindly," He said simply.

  "The others are still searching, but they sent me back to get Marny so she can show us exactly where it happened, but…" and he paused, "we found blood and signs of a struggle." Marny was already on her feet, her tear stained face pale.

  "Quick. Let's go. He's not having Jazlyn!" and she was off, skirts hitched over her knees and Pandrik trailing after her along with Melindra.

  "She's alive, Marny," said Melindra, trying to keep up with the young girl. "I can feel her even though I can't reach her. But she's alive."

  "Yes, but for how long?" asked Marny, and her fear had turned to determination.

  John was in the sword of light, he wielded Jazlyn's arm, he gave her his strength, he was in her head. He wanted to kill, and the anger was tempered with a cold determination; light made steel. He raised his arm to strike.

  And then there was nothing.

  He stood, his wand held high above his head emitting light like a storm cloud, and around him was a field of energy, which increased his height and girth so that he was more than a man. When Jazlyn's arm was stayed, John's power to strike was removed, like a spell broken, and he lost contact. The sudden cessation of activity hit him like a short circuit and the rebounded power was sucked back into him, throwing him off his feet and onto the hard rock face at his back. He let out a cry of anguish, and slumped down, the wand humming in his loose hand, as if trying to soothe and calm him. Vilma, who had been aware of the outline of events, if not the detail, had been watching, and was quickly at his side.