by Marc Johnson
“Quiet!” Lenora said, slamming down her mug. Silence fell. “I'm not opposed to helping Alexandria, but what if Premier has already taken the city? What shall we do then? We can’t possibly enter Alexandria with our force alone. It’s…tactically unsound.”
“Mother, you sound afraid,” Jastillian said.
Lenora narrowed her eyes. Anger passed over her face. If you wanted to provoke a dwarf, the best way was to call him or her a coward. Then Lenora laughed and slapped her son hard on the shoulder. “You’re lucky you’re my son. Otherwise I’d have to drub you with my sword hilt. Sieging a castle takes resources and time. Time we may not have.”
“You're not actually considering this,” another dwarf said in a calm voice. “It's none of our business. We should fortify our defenses here.”
“But what about the people of Alexandria?” I asked. “You're not going to let them die and leave the elves to face the Wastelands alone?”
“If Alexandria has failed in its duty, then the city should fall. I admire the elves' courage, but if they are foolish enough to do this—may they die well.”
“They need your help. You’re the only country close enough and strong enough to help them.” I wanted to throw my hands up in frustration, but restrained myself.
The dwarf shrugged as he reached for his mug. He took a sip and wiped the ale from his black beard. His calmness frustrated me more than the other dwarf’s anger.
“Premier and his creatures will run rampant across all of Northern Shala if you don’t help them,” I said.
Another dwarf said, “They won’t breach our defenses.” Many of the dwarves nodded in agreement. Even the female dwarf who had first spoken up looked thoughtful.
I looked around the table. I needed something more to convince them. “Alexandria would pay you whatever you ask. They’d owe you for saving their kingdom. Whatever you want, Alexandria would give you.”
The older dwarf I had been arguing with raised an eyebrow. “Are you an ambassador for Alexandria, that you could promise such things?”
I wasn’t, but hoped the princess would understand. “No, but I—”
“Then why are you promising them? Hmmm?”
“You're forgetting the treaty, Om,” Jastillian said, interrupting me before I could respond. Thank the gods. “We're pledged to help Alexandria against the Wastelands if they need us.”
“I know the treaty you speak of. It requires our help if they request aid. No such envoy has come. While I appreciate Wizard Hellsfire’s desire to shower us with the riches of Alexandria, he wasn’t sent here in an official capacity.” He put his hand up before others could respond. “This sounds more like internal strife with Premier. We shouldn’t get involved in Alexandria’s politics.”
“You don't honestly believe that?” Artesia asked.
“It doesn't matter what I believe. That's what it is.”
Before Artesia or Jastillian could respond, the dwarf who had stared at me throughout dinner said, “What about Premier?”
Jastillian's body tensed, and he pushed his shoulders back to make himself look bigger. “What about him, Gort?”
Gort gave Jastillian an intense look. “How are we to deal with Premier? Whether he already holds the city or not is not the point. We need a wizard of our own to beat him.”
“Weren't you paying attention? We already have one.” Jastillian nodded in my direction. “Hellsfire already went up against Premier and lived. He's going to do it again.”
Gort snorted. “He's young, and you still embellish your stories. Sounds like he got lucky to me.”
I almost rose, but Jastillian beat me to it. “Are you questioning the lad's bravery, skill, and honor?” He slammed his hand on the table.
Gort stood up too.
“Boys, I will not have you arguing here,” Lenora said. Gort and Jastillian slowly sat back down, still glaring at one another. Lenora turned to me and said, “Hellsfire, I need to know if you can defeat Premier.”
All the dwarves' eyes turned towards me. I grew hot under my collar from their intense scrutiny. I stared at my empty plate, remembering the spells I had cast at Premier. They were quick and easy spells, true, but they meant nothing to him. He was a fully trained wizard who had managed to insinuate himself into the court of a king who hated wizards, and had influenced the king’s mind to such an extent that he had become the true ruler. If I hadn’t gotten lucky and caught him off guard with the door, he probably could have crushed me to a pulp.
Now wasn’t the time to tell the dwarves that. I couldn’t be honest with them the way I could with King Sharald or Princess Krystal. They wouldn’t respect that. They’d think me weak. I had everything to lose by being honest. So I tried something I wasn’t good at—I lied.
I took a deep breath and looked into Lenora's eyes. “I can and I will.” I had to face Premier again and destroy him. Not for my own sake, but for Krystal’s. However, many of the dwarves didn’t look convinced.
“We’ve heard the arguments,” Lenora said. “I believe it’s time to put this to a proper vote. Whether we choose to help Alexandria or not, we must prepare for battle. I prefer to take the offensive and attack Premier rather than be trapped in these mountains when he comes for us.” She met each dwarf’s eyes, her gaze settling longer on Om. “And he will come for us. All in favor of marching to the aid of Alexandria, raise your hand and say, 'Aye.'”
Lenora raised her hand first and Artesia quickly followed. Some of the dwarves glanced at the two women first before raising their hands. I thought this was going to be an easy vote, until I saw a number of dwarves like Gort and Om sitting with their arms firmly crossed. At the end, just under half the dwarves sided with us. Gort smirked again.
“No,” I whispered.
“I’m sorry, Hellsfire,” Lenora said. To everyone else she said, “Prepare our defenses. Double our patrols. Send scouts to Alexandria to see if it’s fallen. Let’s get to work.”
The dwarves began rising to see to their preparations. Jastillian clapped my back and said, “I’m sorry, lad.”
My palms were flat against the stone table. My fingernails dug at the cold, hard surface. I had come all the way out here for nothing. Nothing! The princess, the king, all the people of Alexandria and Sharald were in trouble, and all the dwarves could think about was themselves. The cowards!
I could no longer control my power. The torches in the room erupted, then died, plunging the room into complete darkness. I sensed everyone in the room had frozen, all turning to stare at me. Instead of reigniting the torches, I stood up, letting the fire and my anger flow out of my hands until I became a burning torch. The flames danced on me, circling my body and encasing me in an aura of flame.
The doors flew open, and guards rushed in. The sound of weapons being drawn rang in my ears.
“Hellsfire,” Jastillian said. “What are you doing?”
“I came here for your help. I’m not leaving without it.”
“My people have spoken,” Lenora said. “We’re not helping Alexandria.”
“What if I can ensure your victory?” My voice was confident, even though I didn’t feel that way.
“How could you possibly do that?” Om asked.
“We won’t fight alone.”
Gort snorted. “The elves.”
“No, not the elves.” I ignored Gort and gave my attention to the others who had voted against me. “I could get another wizard to help—a powerful and experienced one, and with him, a dragon.” I had no idea if I could convince Master Stradus and Cynder to come out of the White Mountain to help me, but I had to risk it. It was the only way to convince the dwarves. They would fight if they knew they could win.
“Could you reach him in time?” Artesia asked.
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “Give me your fastest horse, and I'll get there.”
“From what Jastillian has told me of wizards,” Lenora said, weighing her words carefully, “since the Great War, they prefer not to med
dle in the affairs of the world. Can you convince him to aid us in battle?”
I nodded. “He'll help.”
“With this new information, we must take another vote,” Lenora said.
“How do we know he’s not lying to us?” Gort asked. “It’s been centuries since we’ve last seen a wizard—or a dragon. Now they’re in abundance?”
I focused on Gort. The fire surrounding me burned brighter and hotter. “Are you questioning my honor?”
The guards shifted, looking at me and Gort before glancing at Lenora to see what they should do. Gort’s eyes narrowed, and he never wavered. This fool was going to cost Krystal the help she needed. I was no ambassador. I wasn’t good with words. I could only do what Jastillian suggested—show them strength. I wasn’t going to stop until they relented.
Lenora stepped in front of Gort. “You’ve made your point, Wizard Hellsfire. Allow us to vote. There will be no more interruptions or outbursts in my chambers. You will abide by the outcome of the vote, whether you like it or not.”
I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
The surrounding fire flew to the torches. They burst into life, reigniting all at once like stars. The guards lowered their weapons, but didn’t put them away. The rest of the dwarves sat back down, and I joined them.
“All those in favor of helping Alexandria, vote ‘aye,’” Lenora said.
The same dwarves as before raised their hands. A few more had changed their minds, bringing it to over half the table. Most of the ones who hadn’t voted yes held fast. I exhaled, feeling that my show was for naught and that I had let the princess down. I had no idea what to do now.
Then Om raised his hand. “Aye.”
The other dwarves looked at Om in surprise. Some of the ones who had voted against me raised their hands, except for Gort. He clearly was having difficulty containing his anger at Om. A little over three-fourths of the table voted in favor of the proposal.
“Then it's settled,” Lenora said. “I want the army ready to mobilize by the end of the week. I want the fastest scouts sent to Alexandria as soon as possible. We must know if Premier has already taken the city.” Lenora smiled, then raised her fist and roared, “Let's drive the creatures back where they belong!”
Everyone cheered, shaking the hall. The dwarves dispersed to make preparations. My shoulders slumped in relief. I was also tired from that mana-consuming spell. Now, if only we could make it to Alexandria in time.
“Nice work, lad,” Jastillian said. “For a second, you had me worried. That’s the way to show them strength.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that what I did was more of an accident, and that my emotions had gotten the best of me again, but decided against it. “I’m just glad I was able to get their help.”
Jastillian had turned to leave, when I stopped him. “What should I do in the meantime?”
“Sorry, lad. I got caught up in all the excitement. I can feel my warrior’s blood boiling to the surface, and it feels good.” He stood erect, took a deep breath, and clenched his mighty fists. Then he said, “You can look around Erlam if you like. Are you going to leave tomorrow?”
I nodded. “At first light.”
“I'll get you one of the fastest horses I can.”
“Thank you, and thanks for all your help. Without you, your mother, and Artesia, I wouldn't have gotten the help I needed. I really appreciate it.”
“Nonsense, lad. You made your case well. I'm just sorry that Gort made it more difficult than it had to be.” He sighed. “But that's what family's for.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Gort's your brother?”
“Aye. I take it you have no siblings.”
“None.”
“You're lucky. Gort and I don't exactly see eye to eye. Never have, never will.” Jastillian put his massive hand on my shoulder. “But that has nothing to do with now. Go. Have fun, explore, or prepare if you want, but remember to get some sleep. I’ll come get you an hour before sunrise.”
“Where will I sleep tonight?”
“Sorry about that, I completely forgot.” He burst out with a laugh so loud it echoed in the near-empty hall. “We’re going to be busy, so any empty room in this place will be fine.”
“How will you know where I’ll be?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll find you,” Jastillian said, and left.
A part of me wanted to explore the city of Erlam, as it might be the only time I ever saw it. I didn't. A larger part of me worried and fretted over the upcoming battle, the safety of the people of Alexandria, and how to convince Master Stradus to help me. To calm my nerves, I found a quiet, empty bedroom and spent most of my time in meditation. I tried to focus my energy and get lost in the mana that was all around me. It was hard, yet, as Master Stradus had taught me, that was the point of meditating. So that I could concentrate under any circumstances.
----
The next morning, Jastillian came right when he said he would. The bags under his eyes were deep. I felt bad because I hadn’t worked as hard as him or any of the other dwarves as they prepared their army. I expressed this, and he said not to worry. They expected me to be the magic against magic.
I got on my horse and headed west back towards the White Mountain, wondering if Master Stradus would not only be grateful to see me, but willing to help me. Could I convince the hermit to leave the comfort of his caves and prophecies, to help me defeat Premier?
CHAPTER 19
I arrived at the White Mountain in the middle of the night. It shone against the dark sky, its frosted surface glistening. I got off my horse and sat cross-legged in front of the mountain. I focused on the fire within until I gathered enough power to perform my spell.
I raised my hands high into the sky, my sleeves tumbling down. I pictured the entrance to the cave. Blocking out all noise, I encased my mind in silence. I said an incantation and let a portion of the fire flow outward, shooting up in the sky. I focused hard on the flaming geyser, pushing my mind against the cold and wind. The stream of fire forced itself closer to the mountain and reached the mouth of the cave, shooting inward. I said a word to disperse it and created a great, flashing, fiery show that hopefully illuminated the whole cave and got someone's attention, even at this late hour.
Creating such a huge spell drained me. I leaned over, breathing heavily. As I waited for a response, I tried to think of another way to contact Master Stradus if this didn’t work. Soon enough, though, a monstrous shadowy figure flew down from the mountain. He landed right beside me, hard and fast, causing a wind that almost sent me to the ground. As usual. The horse whinnied and shied in response. I had to hurry over and restrain him before he took off. The horse's large, black eyes became even larger, and his nostrils flared as he sighted the dragon. He pulled against the reins.
“Back so soon?” Cynder asked. He snorted a puff of fire and yawned. “Real world too much for you? I was having a good night’s sleep until you decided to perform that little light show. Some of us higher beings need our sleep. What kind of spell was that, anyway? If I had been in the tunnel, I wouldn't have appreciated it.”
I didn’t have time to trade wit with him. Besides, I had him easily beaten. “Cynder, I must go and talk to Master Stradus. It’s of the utmost importance.”
He saw the seriousness in my eyes, for once. “Very well. Climb on.” He peered down at the horse. “Is this for me? Thanks for the snack.” Cynder grinned and wasted no time, snatching the horse before I could stop him. The horse cried out as Cynder's sharp talons dug into his flanks.
“Godsdamn it!” I said. “You overgrown oven. That was a gift—for me—not a snack. If it wasn't for that horse, I wouldn't have made it here as soon as I did.”
“Humans.” Cynder snorted. I climbed up on him, and he flew me through the stormy weather to the cave entrance. After he dropped off his food, he even took me all the way to Master Stradus’s room so I wouldn’t have to walk.
“Cynder, you might want to stay for this,” I said as I hop
ped off.
“Since it’ll probably take me a while to get back to sleep anyway, I might as well.” His red eye went back towards the caves and to the dead horse. “Although, I am a little hungry.” He mulled it over. “I guess I’ll stay.” Cynder groaned and settled his head near the doorway.
I found Master Stradus sitting on a stool, sipping some hot tea. He gave me a warm smile. “Good to see you, my boy, though I’m surprised you’re back so soon. That was quite a signal you made, all the way up the mountain. You must be a little tired from it. How about some tea?”
“No, thank you, Master. I came here because I’m in dire need of your help. Northern Shala is in grave danger, and we need you.”
Master Stradus stopped drinking his tea and sat straight up. He reached for his staff and stroked the globe on top. It swirled with sky blue colors. “You’ve got my complete attention, Hellsfire. Tell me exactly what you mean, from the beginning.”
I relayed my entire story, trying to go quickly. Every second I talked was another wasted. But I failed. I rambled on and on. Everything was important to me, and so many things had happened since I last saw him.
Master Stradus didn’t interrupt me. His eyes never left my face, and he didn’t move except to drink his tea and fiddle with his staff. In my time with Master Stradus, whenever I'd had a question or didn't understand something, he'd work me through it by first hearing all of what I had to say.
Cynder, on the other hand, fell asleep midway through and snored. It sounded like countless birds were caught in his nose, flapping their wings. I was used to it, but it was still disgusting.
Master Stradus put his tea down after I was done and said, “Why, that was quite an adventure you’ve had in such a short period, my boy.”
“Will you help me, Master?”
He paused. Then he blinked, slowly, and poured more tea.
“Master?”
He spoke slowly and deliberately. “I've lived in seclusion for a reason, Hellsfire. After the war, I first spent my time trying to help people and repair the land. The outside world grew suspicious of wizards, and rightly so. We caused a lot of damage.”