Wizard's Education (Book 2)

by James Eggebeen

  "If you succeed, you pass on to the next test. If you fail, these people die." He jumped up on the table near Chihon to put his face at her eye level. He leaned in towards her, looking her in the eye. "Don't fail."

  The little gold man jumped down from the table and turned towards the door.

  "Who are you?" Chihon called after him.

  "I am your friend. We knew each other well once. You honored me greatly." With that, he simply faded away.

  The door burst open and Hatther entered. Chihon recognized the Wizard Hatther from her prior visit. He was out of breath and looked disheveled and tired.

  "You have to help. It's out of hand."

  "What's out of hand?" Chihon asked.

  "The epidemic. It's out of hand. People are sick all over. I've contained it, but they're all going to die if we don't help them."

  "WHAT? I thought it was only going to affect the invaders. What happened?"

  "Two days ago people started getting sick. The Atenthi all died out the day you left. Everyone else was fine. Until two days ago."

  "What did you do? Can you create a potion that can save them?"

  "I've tried everything I know of, but nothing works." Hatther spread his hands showing his helplessness.

  "Bring me to someone who is sick," Chihon said.

  "No need. There is someone here already." He led her through the inn to a room where a woman lay.

  It was Enmeld.

  Chihon rushed over to the bed and knelt down to examine her. She was hot and her skin was blotched with red marks, as if she had been grasped firmly, leaving bruises all up and down her arms. Her hair was damp and matted and her eyes dark. She opened them as Chihon stroked her hair.

  "Oh, good. You're here," was all she could manage through her parched lips.

  "Don't worry. I'll do everything I can." Chihon said, reassuring her.

  "I know." Enmeld closed her eyes and relaxed.

  Chihon examined her. The dark brown of disease permeated her body and concentrated in her blood. It was thick and brown, the color of rot and decay.

  She imagined the blood turning the color of a spring field of hay. A light green that signified new life and fresh growth. As she did, Chihon felt the disease abate. She pressed her power into the girl until Enmeld started to breathe easier.

  Chihon continued to stroke her hair and soothe her as she worked her magic. After a long while, Enmeld showed a light green spreading through her body. The brown of disease was fading fast. Chihon put a spell on her so she would sleep while the healing progressed.

  "You saved her, didn't you?" Hatther asked.

  "I think so, but I am exhausted. I learned how to heal from Tass, but it takes a lot out of me. I can't do many of these. I'm tired and hungry."

  "Come on. I'll get you something to eat. There is bread and cheese in the kitchen, but nothing hot, I'm afraid. No one has been well enough to cook."

  Hatther helped her to her feet and guided her back to the dining room. He fetched her a mug of ale and a plate of stale bread and moldy cheese.

  "This is all I could find."

  "It looks delicious." Chihon ate as if she had gone days without food.

  "How many are sick like this?" she said around a mouthful of bread.

  "Hundreds. I have placed a wall around the infected area to keep them from leaving and spreading it to the rest of the city. People are angry. The well ones think I have trapped them in here to die."

  Hatther sat across from Chihon with a sad, fearful look on his face. "I might have indeed trapped them here to die. Along with me, if you cannot help us."

  "I have barely enough power to help one woman. How can you expect me to heal all of these people?"

  "You have to try. My only hope was that I could live long enough to see the last of them die before my shield fell. If anyone gets out of the area, they will spread this disease and the whole world may die.

  "My death will be a personal tragedy, but if I let these infected folk loose, then it will be a tragedy for thousands more."

  "I'll try again. Take me to another." Chihon stood up, slightly refreshed after her quick bite.

  Hatther led her to another room. This time a young boy lay abed. He was about ten summers in age, tanned brown by the sun and strong. He had the same dark brown infection that Enmeld had.

  Chihon knelt beside his bed and examined him. She reached out and touched the infection just as she'd done with Enmeld. She could see it receding when, suddenly, she felt light headed. She relaxed her healing and grasped the side of the bed.

  Stars appeared at the periphery of her vision and she felt dizzy. The sparkling gold flecks swirled around her vision growing ever tighter, threatening to choke off her sight. She felt her stomach tingle and her breathing slow.

  The next thing Chihon knew, she was lying on her back in a bed. A rough blanket covered her and the straw of the mattress scratched at her skin.

  She looked up to see Hatther standing over her.

  "Back with us, I see," he said.

  "What happened? How is the boy?"

  "He is doing a little better." Hatther helped her sit up.

  "How is Enmeld?" Chihon asked.

  "I'm fine," came a voice from outside of the room. Enmeld entered carrying a tray with a pot of mead, a bowl of thick broth and a small pile of travel bread. The broth smelled of fowl and onion and made Chihon's mouth water.

  Enmeld sat next to her. She dipped one of the pieces of bread in the broth and held it out to Chihon. Nothing ever tasted so good. Chihon gobbled up the food almost as fast as Enmeld dished it out.

  "How long was I out?" she asked, once she was finished eating.

  "Since yesterday." Enmeld placed the now empty bowl and tray on the table. She sat down on the bed next to Chihon.

  "Thank you for saving me," Enmeld said.

  "I wish I could do more," Chihon sighed. "I just don't have the power to heal everyone."

  "What did the Temple teach you about healing?" Hatther asked.

  "They said I could improve my healing power by taking the life force or magic of another creature. But they said a life must be given for each one saved."

  "Maybe we can find sacrificial animals like they use."

  "No. It's not enough. Even with their sacrifices, I was not able to heal more than one or two in a day. I just don't have enough time or power to heal everyone."

  "There must be a way," Hatther pleaded with her.

  Chihon reached out for the power she had learned to access. She could feel the power of the elementals, the earth, wind, fire and water. She weighed them against the need of the people and found them lacking. She reached deep into the earth to find the raw stuff of magic as Lorit had taught her, but it still was not enough.

  Somewhere deep inside of her, a thought arose. It was one of the passages from the books in Zhimosom's library. It said 'When your enemy pushes, do not push back. Pull.'

  She wondered why that had come to her. She relaxed and felt for the disease. She could sense it pressing on the afflicted, relentlessly driving its corruption into them.

  She examined the power behind the disease. She could feel the Wizard's magic as well as the magic of the potion itself. It was earth magic at its heart.

  Chihon drew the magic of the potion into her, welcoming its advance. She felt it attack her, permeating into her blood as it had with the rest of its victims.

  She felt the fire of it as it invaded every part of her body. The corruption and decay turned to rot and purification as it invaded her. She welcomed it, drew it more and more to herself, willing it to run its course.

  The death and decay had become all pervasive when she started her work. She pulled at it. The next step after death and decay was new life. Plants, animals, people all died. Death and decay took them in its time. Everything ended up in the earth dead and decaying, but then from the richness of that decay sprang new life.

  She pulled the death and decay through to the next stage, new life. S
he could feel the energy and power of the life that sprang from the pestilence. It was exhilarating and heady. She reveled in its power and freshness as the disease ran its course and changed to rebirth.

  She reached out to embrace the sick and dying around her. She used the power of rebirth that sprang from the disease to heal them all. She could feel the power surge as the disease yielded to the fresh new life.

  All round her, the brown of death and decay turned to the green and yellows of spring.

  Chihon sat back and sighed. "Looks like they're going to be well."

  "Thank you for your help. Without you we would all surely be dead." Hatther reached out his hand, but before she could grasp it, Chihon felt the wrenching that she had come to associate with the start of a new trial.

  The inn faded out, to be replaced by low walls that surrounded Chihon. The enclosure was circular and about thirty spans in diameter. The wind blew cold, colder than she'd felt in a long time. It gusted and threatened to throw her against the low walls that offered no protection.

  Chihon made her way to the wall and peered over it. She was on the top of a tall tower. It was so tall that clouds rushed by beneath her, obscuring the land far below. It was even higher than the Bell Tower had been, but this tower was bleak and cold.

  She searched for a door or some entryway through which she could make her escape. There was nothing but a smooth granite block floor. She could find no trace of a door, or even a crack in the floor. It was so tightly seamed, she could not even work a knife blade into the gap between the stones.

  She reached out for Lorit. He was nearby. He replied almost immediately.

  "Where are you?" she asked.

  "I'm in a dungeon, from the looks of it. It's damp, cold, and dark. I can feel air movement, but not much. There's a heavy wooden door. It's locked and spelled. Where are you?"

  "I'm atop a tall tower without a door."

  "Let's try and open the cell door together. I've used all my strength, but I can't get it to budge," Lorit said. "Let's do this together."

  Chihon could feel her power flow out and through Lorit. He must have been focused on the door so strongly that she could no longer hear his thoughts. She drew power from all available sources and channeled it to him. After a while, she heard him sigh and release the effort.

  "It's no use. I can't open it. You try," he said.

  Chihon focused her energy on the floor of the tower. She drew power from Lorit and channeled everything she had into the effort. She visualized a hatch appearing on the floor, and the stones sliding away. She drew magic from the elementals and even the mini dragon, but nothing happened. The floor remained as solid as ever.

  She dropped to her knees and beat her fists upon the stone. "Open up!"

  Nothing.

  "It's no good," she told Lorit. "I can't get through."

  "Maybe we can rest up and restore our power. Perhaps a good night's sleep will refresh us enough to make a difference."

  "Lorit. I have no food or water. I am alone up here, no pack, nothing, and it's cold." She drew her cloak tighter around her, turning her back into the wind. It whipped around her, whistling as it passed. "I won't survive the night."

  Chihon peered over the edge of the tower. The air was icy cold and stung her eyes. It reminded her of the bridge where they had encountered the Zilants.

  "Maybe I can summon a Zilant," Chihon said. "They fly in strong wind. I don't know where we are, but maybe I can get one to come over and fly me down. Then I can look for you."

  Chihon stood near the edge of the tower, focusing her thoughts on the mighty flying snakes. She visualized one of the Zilants as they had seen them before, its thick snake's body and leathery wings. She imagined the feel of its scales against her legs as she hung on to it. She recalled the feeling of it, as it dove and twisted in the air.

  "I can feel that," Lorit said.

  "Shush, I'm focusing." She spread her arms wide, careful not to let the wind catch her. She imagined herself leaping from the tower wall to fall through the sky until she landed on the back of the flying snake. She felt the wind tear at her, but she paid it no mind. She was focused on calling the Zilant and nothing else mattered.

  The wind gripped her in its icy fingers threatening to toss her off the tower. She grew cold and felt the power draining from her. Soon she would not even have enough power to keep her warm from the winds. She lowered her head and stepped away from the wall.

  She tried to find a way to shelter herself from the wind. She curled up and lay on the stones near the short wall that surrounded the tower, but it didn't help. The wind whipped and jabbed at her no matter where she hid. It changed direction constantly and left her no place in which to rest.

  She grew colder, and thirsty. The wind never stopped and, as the sun set, she became even more miserable. Chihon pulled her cloak tight, shivering.

  "I'm so cold," she said through chattering teeth.

  "Hang on. I can send you my power to help keep you warm."

  Chihon could feel Lorit sending her power, but it was not going to be enough. She had nothing to fight with, she was ready to give up. She would die up here in the frigid winds high above the Wizards' keep. She just didn't have the strength to overcome the spells placed on her prison. It seemed like the harder she pushed, the harder the tower pushed back.

  Somewhere in the cold depths of her frozen head, an idea took hold. The harder she pushed, the harder the tower pushed back. Like the disease, the harder she tried the harder it fought back. Maybe the answer was to relax?

  "Lorit, try to release your magic. I think this test of power is to demonstrate that we can solve the riddle without using magic. Try it with me."

  She forced her body to relax and envisioned herself as she was as a little girl, no magic, and no Sorceress powers. Just a girl, baking bread in the oven and carrying it to the market where Grandma'am sold it for a few coppers.

  She felt the spells that trapped her here. They pushed at her, gently but constantly. She relaxed and let them push, no more fighting, no pushing back. She just accepted the spells and lay there relaxing as much as she could in the cold.

  She felt the icy wind even more now that she had dropped her shields. The frigid cold grew worse as the rain started. The wind threw drops at her like weapons. She wanted to raise a shield against them, but she could feel the spells lightening as she stopped fighting it.

  She heard a screeching noise behind her. She turned her head to see a hatchway open in the floor. There was a staircase leading down and light streamed from inside. She rushed over and down the stairs, afraid that they would disappear if she hesitated. It felt blissful to be out of the frigid wind.

  She ran down the stairs as fast as her tired legs would carry her. When she reached the ground level, Lorit was standing there, smiling.

  "How did you get out?" she asked.

  "I relaxed and let go of my power. When I did that, the door just opened and let me out. You're brilliant." He held his arms out to embrace her, and she ran to him, but she never made it. She felt the wrenching sensation that told her she was being cast into yet another trial.

  Test of Wisdom

  The dungeon surrounding Lorit disappeared and a court room took its place. Lorit stood before the judge, a wizened old man in a dark coat and tall square hat. Lorit felt a weight on his arms and looked down. Heavy iron manacles linked by a rusty chain bound him to the table before him. He glanced down to see his legs were similarly bound to the floor.

  Behind him, a crowd of onlookers eagerly awaited the spectacle.

  "Why am I here?" Lorit demanded.

  "You are here to be judged. That is what we do in a courtroom. Please speak only when you are asked a question, and when you are asked a question, answer that question and only that question."

  "What is this?" Lorit struggled against the chains. "What am I on trial for?"

  "You have been instructed to speak only when spoken to. Did you understand that instruction?" the judg
e leaned over the bench above Lorit. "Did you understand?"

  "Yes, but ..." Lorit started to speak. A guard stepped up and jabbed him in the gut with the butt of his spear. Lorit cried out in pain and doubled over.

  "Very good," the judge said. "It's important that you understand. If you did not understand, you would not have been punished for failure to comply. Do you understand this?"

  "Yes," Lorit managed to squeeze out between painful breaths.

  "You may be seated for this portion of the trial." The judge nodded to Lorit.

  Lorit glanced behind him. A chair had been placed behind, close enough that he could sit. The chains allowed him to place his hands on the table in front of him, but he could reach no closer to his own body than the edge of the table.

  He sat down heavily and tested the chains on his legs. They were solid and limited his movements more so than the ones on his hands.

  Lorit peered up at the judge. He started to speak, but the guard stepped up with his spear ready to administer his punishment for breaking court protocol. He quickly stopped.

  "I see that you can learn from experience; that is good." The judge sat back. His seat was tall and decorated with symbols of power and depictions of mythical creatures.

  "You are on trial for the murder of three priests of Ran in Veldwaite. The complaint states that you used magic to kill all three Priests and to destroy the Temple. Is that true?"

  "They were trying to kill me," Lorit argued. The guard raised his spear.

  "Is the statement true?" the judge demanded.

  "It is, but ..." Lorit was stopped once again by the spear heading his way.

  "It is true. You did kill them?" the judge asked.

  "Yes, I did." Lorit was angry with the whole process. It didn't look like they were going to let him make an argument on his behalf. He gathered power into himself, preparing for a magical assault on his chains.

  The judge shook his head. "Here I thought we were making progress." He leaned forward again. "Are you getting ready to kill me?"