Wizard's Education (Book 2)

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Wizard's Education (Book 2) Page 10

by James Eggebeen


  The image drew back to show the tree, then the river. Lorit could see the woman walking towards the river. There were guards along the path, standing, shields up and swords at the ready. She strolled between them, making her way to the water.

  "She was fetching water to wash me when they killed her. We never found out who was behind it. The guards killed him. They never got a chance to question anyone," she explained.

  The little Princess in the image watched as her mother scooped water from the river with a small pail. Her dress was white and shone with the noonday sun. It was almost as if she were lit from within.

  Suddenly, a red blossom appeared on her back, quickly followed by another. The red splattered and spread to fist sized stains before the Queen fell face forward into the river. The little Princess jumped up and ran for the water. Before she could get beyond the confines of the shade tree, she was snatched up in the arms of one of the guards.

  "The guards tried to protect me. I thought he was trying to keep me away from my mother. I fought him with all my strength until he suddenly released me."

  The guard held her tight and turned his back to the river and her mother. She struggled to get free but was unable to break the grip he had on her. Without warning, he released her and fell to the ground.

  "That was when I got shot."

  Lorit could feel her shaking in his arms as he watched the little girl sit there screaming. A red splotch appeared on her tiny dress and she fell to the ground.

  "I still have the scar. They never found out who did it, so they were never punished."

  The sphere glowed brightly and exploded into a shower of sparks.

  The next time the sphere appeared immediately. It showed Chihon once again standing over the altar. She held the knife in her hand in readiness. This time, there was no magical creature on the altar. It was a young boy.

  Lorit strained to see the boy who was tied to the altar just as Ardser had been when the Priests took his magic. The sunbeam approached the statue, signaling the optimum time to make the sacrifice and the boy cried out and struggled in his bonds. He turned his face to Lorit.

  It was Prince Ghall.

  Lorit and the Princess screamed out in unison, "No." But it had no effect on the grisly scene being played out before their eyes.

  The sunbeam struck the statue and Chihon deftly slid the knife across the Prince’s throat. Blood gushed forth, mixed with a cloud of purple and silver sparkles.

  "No!" Lorit screamed.

  He let the rage consume him and fuel his magic. He raged at the scene before him. Chihon would not turn. She would not take someone’s magic. She would not kill the Prince.

  He felt his anger consume the magic of the witch, shattering the spell. The darkness exploded into light and the tomb stones of the graveyard appeared out of the thick mist.

  "That does it. She is going to tell me where Chihon is." Lorit picked himself up off the musty ground. "She's not going to get away with this."

  "Lorit, you can't beat her. She's a witch. Please don't. She could kill you."

  Lorit didn't let that stop him. He turned back to the witch's house. He used his staff to steady himself as he made his way. The trap had taken a lot out of him and he was feeling drained. As he approached the house, he could feel the witch inside. Her magic was strange, different from his own. He reached out with his senses to locate her and raised fire.

  "Where is she?" he screamed. "What have you done with her?"

  Lorit hurled the fireball towards the house. It leapt from his hand and swooped, entering through an open window. There was a bright flash as the fireball struck something inside of the house. Lorit felt a surge in the witch's power as she fought off the flames.

  "Tell me what you have done with her."

  He raised another fireball. This time he imbued the fire with all the strength he had in him. It shifted from the familiar blue to almost pure white. He released it to chase the previous one, swirling and spitting sparks as it flew through the open window. This time there was a flash brighter than the sun that cast shadows across the graveyard, burning themselves into his eyes.

  Lorit thought that the witch must surely be dead after such a blast. He walked towards the house. The walls still glowed inside as he stormed up the stairs. He heard the witch from inside cackling with laughter.

  "You’re never going to find her."

  A beam of light struck Lorit where he stood, blinding him instantly. It was almost as bright as the flash from his last fireball, as bright as the noonday sun.

  He jammed his staff into the rickety floor to steady himself. He willed the light to bend into the jewel at the head of his staff. It took effort, but slowly Lorit could feel the light abate as it was drawn from his face and into the jewel.

  Soon the light emanating from the witch was streaming in a tight beam directly into the head of his staff. Lorit could feel the power building up in it. It felt as if it were about to explode.

  The witch stood back, her hand raised, showers of light funneling into the staff. She had closed her eyes as she blasted him. Lorit realized she could not see him and she must have assumed the light was still striking him. He tried to sound weak when he replied. "You cannot defeat me, witch. I will have my answer from you."

  He left his staff stuck in the floor and got down on his hands and knees, crawling across the rough planks, shoving dead leaves and debris out of his way. He wiggled close to the witch and carefully reached for his knife. He drew it and stood up behind her.

  He waited until she relaxed the spell. As the light diminished, she opened her eyes to discover Lorit's staff standing in the middle of the room, but no Lorit. He quickly stepped close and grabbed her by the hair. He leaned her head back and made one swift stroke that should have slit her throat so deeply it would have taken her head from her shoulders.

  She cackled like a chicken, laughing at him. "Well, Wizard. You do have a few tricks up your sleeve."

  She raised her hand and Lorit froze in place. She turned to him, looking him over. "You thought you could kill me?" She pointed one gnarled and twisted finger at him. "I'm a witch. No Wizard tricks work on me."

  She traced down his chest with her fingernail, creating a large red welt wherever the nail touched. It burned like fire.

  Lorit screamed out in pain.

  "You will never find your love," the witch said. "She is lost, gone over to the Temple. You cannot save her, and you cannot save yourself."

  The witch made a gesture with her hand and Lorit was thrust into the chair. He landed hard and was unable to move a muscle. She bent over him and Lorit smelled the putrid odor of her. She smelled as if she had been eating dead things from the swamp.

  "Let me see. What shall I do with you?" She rubbed her chin and stood up straight, which for her was still a stoop. She stood before Lorit, extending her fingernail once again and slicing his flesh with it. It burned as if a red hot knife had been drawn against his skin.

  Lorit could see the Princess sneaking through the doorway. He wanted to warn her, but he couldn't move a muscle. She quietly crossed the floor and grabbed his staff. She wrenched if from the floor where he had jammed it, and advanced on the witch.

  The old woman was concentrating on torturing Lorit and did not see the Princess as she snuck up and raised Lorit's staff. The Princess swung the staff with both hands and struck the witch firmly on the head.

  Sparks flew everywhere at the impact. The jewel flared brilliantly and the witch lit up along with it. She stiffened and blazed like the noonday sun, and Lorit could see her bones glowing through her skin.

  She let out a scream that Lorit thought would leave him deaf. Just when he could take no more, the glowing stopped; the witch turned to ash, and blew away in the evening breeze. Lorit felt the bonds release him as she disappeared.

  He shook with relief as he struggled to stand. He walked unsteadily over to the Princess and took his staff from her hands, examining it. The jewel in its head looked like it
had been battered and melted. Its normal luster was gone and it was chipped and scorched all over.

  "You're welcome," the Princess said sarcastically. She took the seat that Lorit had just vacated with a heavy sigh.

  "I'm sorry. Thank you for saving my life." He glanced at the staff questioningly then back to the Princess.

  "I saw your staff absorb her magic. I figured it would make a good weapon. It just sort of came to me while I was watching from outside the window. It didn't look like you were making any headway against her."

  Lorit and the Princess made their way back to the accommodations Lord Draril had provided them.

  "I wish I knew where Chihon was taken. With her help, I could find the Prince with ease," Lorit said.

  "The witch must have been referring to Friega. That's the only city that fits."

  "That's where she said Prince Ghall is, but I need to find Chihon."

  "You don't know where she is." The Princess sat at the table, looking defiant. "You need to find my brother."

  "I need to find Chihon." Lorit was in no mood for argument. He was frustrated that they could always seem to find the trail that lead to Prince Ghall, but never to Chihon, although he was suspicious that the trail leading to Prince Ghall was too easy to find.

  "So find her." The Princess waved her arms towards the setting sun. "Go and get her, then come back and find my brother."

  "I don't know where she is!" Lorit was tempted to strike her again, but all that would accomplish would be to injure Chihon. And the Princes had saved him from the witch.

  Perhaps Ukina's connection to Chihon could provide some insight. He reached out with his magic to the Princess. He felt for Chihon's presence, muted and distant though it was, and examined them both at the same time. He felt the presence of Chihon's connection more strongly as he did.

  She was well, but she was still distant.

  Lorit got a sense that Chihon was west of him, but if she was in Friega or somewhere else, he couldn't tell. It looked like Friega was his best option.

  Lorit would have headed out immediately, but Princess Ukina convinced him that they should send the guard back to Veldwaite first. If not, Sir Adane would just track them down again until he caught up to them.

  She made the excuse that they were going to be crossing the Ice Father and that was no place for horses and knights. The trek across the Ice Father would be treacherous and dangerous enough with just the two of them. With the knights, their armor and their horses, it was near impossible.

  Friega had never been conquered by an invading army. This was primarily due to its location, as it was built on a high peak that stuck out of the Ice Father in defiance of the crushing snows that flowed around it.

  They would have to cross this ice to reach the castle and free the Prince. Lorit wondered if the Prince were even in Friega. With the way things were going, he was doubtful.

  Derig

  Chihon stood beside the altar, sacrificial knife in hand, watching the sunbeam creep towards the mini dragon. She could feel its power as a faint golden glow surrounding the animal. Its fur coat seemed to shimmer as she prepared to take its life, the tiny horns sparked with magical energy as the animal sensed its coming doom.

  She felt a faint memory push its way into her conscious mind. Something told her this was only the first step and that taking the power of this magical animal would be no different from killing a person, and taking his or her magic. Something about this screamed out to her that human sacrifice would be the next step in her education.

  "No. This is wrong." She threw the knife down on the altar.

  Otana rushed over and grabbed the knife. He raised it above the animal and chanted the spell to take its magic.

  Chihon stepped back, reeling from her inner turmoil. Why did she have memories of the priests taking the magic of young Wizards in this manner, just as she was preparing to take the magic of the mini dragon?

  "No. Stop," she shouted at Otana. "Don't kill it."

  He reached his hand out to her without looking up from his sacrifice. Chihon could feel Otana's power surge at her, trying to bind her in place, to silence her. She felt the tendrils of it encircle her, squeezing tighter.

  "Vincula et libera me," she said softly, commanding the bonds to loosen. She relaxed and focused her own power, willing it to unravel the spell the priest had cast her way. The feeling of entrapment almost completely vanished, but she still felt a residual magic, almost as if something else were still holding her. It was tenuous, barely noticeable.

  She reached out and seized the knife from Otana, pushing the Priest to the floor.

  "I said no." She sliced away the bonds that held the mini dragon. "Go on, get out of here," she said pointing to the window.

  The creature spread its tiny wings, launched itself from the altar, and quickly darted out the open window.

  "Why did you do that?" Otana demanded. "Those animals are valuable. This was to be your inaugural sacrifice. It would have provided you enough magical reserve to heal a dozen penitents from their ills. How could you waste such a gift?"

  "Because it's wrong." She spoke slowly as if instructing a simple child. "I will not take the magic of another being for my own."

  "It's no different from taking a life to eat. Just like you did yesterday with the rabbit."

  "I could feel its magic. I could feel its intelligence. It's not just a simple animal. It's more than that, and I'm not going to kill it and take its power."

  "On your head be it, then." Otana stormed from the room, shouting for the guards.

  The guards appeared and grabbed Chihon. They dragged her to the main door of the temple, preparing to throw her out onto the avenue. Tass was behind her, being treated no better. When they reached the entrance, Otana stood by the door, glaring at Chihon.

  "Throw them out," he instructed the guards. "I don't care if she's going to be the High Priestess. She's not welcome here."

  He looked at Tass. "And you're not welcome here either. What were you thinking, bringing her here to desecrate my altar and commit sacrilege in my temple? Throw them out."

  The guard complied, thrusting Chihon out of the main door and onto the avenue. She stumbled and fell, scraping her knees on the stones. She shook off the pain as she stood and brushed off the dirt. She had just recovered her balance when they heaved Tass out, knocking Chihon down to the ground again.

  "Don't come back here," Otana shouted as the doors closed behind her.

  Chihon brushed off the dirt again. As she put weight on her foot, pain flared in her ankle. Tass had landed hard on her and twisted it. She put pressure on it and tested her ability to walk. The pain was stabbing, but she was able to walk with a little help from Tass.

  After their inglorious departure from Gwitney, Chihon and Tass spent the day on the road. Chihon's ankle still throbbed, even though she rode. They stopped for the evening, making their camp under an ancient live oak tree.

  "Your ankle isn't getting better, is it?" Tass asked as she gently grasped Chihon's foot and moved it from side to side.

  "It's a little better."

  "Lie down and I'll unwrap it for the night."

  Tass made a fire and brewed some strong tea, along with the roasted roots and dried meat.

  "Drink this." Tass offered the tea to Chihon. "It will help you sleep. I am working on a potion that will help your ankle heal a little faster."

  "Thank you, Tass. I don't know what I'd do without you."

  Tass gave Chihon a paste of bitter herbs after she finished her tea. "I know this tastes terrible, but it will help you heal."

  Chihon lay down and was soon fast asleep. Tass retrieved the large candle from her pack, lit it, sat back and waited for Sulrad to appear. Soon, the image of the High Priest formed in the candle flame.

  "She is resisting," Tass said. "I made the arrangements to have her take the mini dragon's magic. She readily sacrificed the rabbit yesterday, but when confronted with the mini dragon, she refused to perform th
e sacrifice, and instead freed the animal. The priest made a big show of throwing us out of the temple.

  "He tried to use a containment spell on her, but she deflected it easily. I fear she recognized the web we have placed around her when she counteracted his spell. She appears to be recalling her real life more frequently than before.

  "Do you have any suggestion?" Tass asked.

  "The Prince will arrive in Quineshua soon. If he does not turn, we can take his magic for this purpose. Royal blood and magic. It will be most powerful. Until then, though, we will have to make do."

  Sulrad thought for a moment. "I will send you a more powerful potion, one that will help strengthen the memories you have implanted in her. Do not fail me in this."

  "Yes, Father, I will take great care."

  The potion appeared shortly after their conversation. Tass poured some of it on the cloth she kept secreted away, and placed it over Chihon's mouth and nose. She held it there until she was certain the girl had breathed enough for the potion to do its work.

  She settled down for the long litany of recitation that she used to reinforce the memories of the Temple in Chihon. She kept it up almost all night, finishing just as the moon set and the stars faded. Exhausted, Tass gathered up her magical paraphernalia and lay down to sleep.

  Over the next few days, Chihon felt her ankle healing. Each night Tass would brew a cup of special tea and sit with her until she fell asleep. Chihon felt refreshed and rested each morning and the pain in her ankle was almost gone.

  They made good progress on their journey and the heavy wooded lands had gradually given way to the flat open prairie with the occasional stand of trees.

  The solid ice wall towered above them stretching into the sky, and always before it, were piles of crushed rock and shattered ice. The cold kept the trees at bay and formed a corridor between the ice and the adjoining grasslands. They rode close to the ice, seeking the shelter of any nearby trees at night, to put some distance between them and the frigid air that constantly streamed down the face of the Ice Father.

 

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