To Cast The First Spell (The Maestro Chronicles)

by John Buttrick

  Daniel took another sip of water, he had not noticed when the glass was refilled but glad for it. He watched as Samuel worked his way around the room healing minor cuts on the people he encountered. Some of the scratches probably were not even related to the attack. The Talented healed them just the same. His white silk garments appeared to be freshly laundered in spite of all the blood he came in contact with. None of the Aakacarns seemed to tolerate so much as a smudge on them for more than a few moments.

  The room was becoming quieter and less crowded as people who were no longer wounded left the inn. Daniel drifted off to sleep and regretted it immediately. He appeared in a sitting position on the steps leading up to where Tarin Conn sat on the crystal throne. He did not bother to turn or even acknowledge the ancient Accomplished.

  “No need to be ashamed,” Tarin Conn said, tauntingly. “You may rise and face me.”

  Daniel stayed put, strengthening his resolve to just sit and rest. Let the Dark Maestro talk up a storm, what did it matter, he concluded. The best thing would be to pretend the old spell caster did not exist.

  “You are a resourceful young man. Soon now we will accomplish things the world has never seen,” the Maestro began with his usual blathering about being omnipotent. “Give in. Even now Balen Tamm is plotting your defeat, and he will succeed. Surrender and save the good people of Bashierwood while you can,” he added, and his voice was colder. It seemed he resented having a back turned on him.

  What kind of fool turns his back on the Dark Maestro?

  Daniel smiled. It felt good to tweak the spell caster’s pride a bit. He looked up, studying the intricate patterns on the vaulted ceiling. The pentagrams with faces and flowers and spirals within spirals were definitely of Serinian origin, a change from the mirrored ceiling. He wondered idly if Jerremy knew the Dark Maestro was one of his countrymen, not that it mattered. Almost any thought was worth entertaining at the moment.

  “This day you had but a taste of battle, two tenths of the yetis amassed on Tannakonna. Tomorrow will not be so pleasant,” Tarin Conn rambled on, although it was proving more difficult to ignore his words or the dangerous edge growing thin in his normally seductive tones. “The entire legion will move against you and keep coming until your strength is exhausted. Serve me, obey me!” his voice thundered.

  Daniel sprang to his feet and whirled around to face Tarin Conn eye to eye. “No.”

  “Serve me!”

  “No.”

  “Serve me!!!”

  “No, I’m not going to serve you!” Daniel shouted and opened his eyes, ripping himself out of the dream world. It took several moments to clear the Dark Maestro from his mind.

  A warm hand lightly touched his shoulder, helping him to focus and purge himself of the encounter. He lifted his head and found his mother staring back at him. She seemed to be assessing his physical as well as mental condition. She frowned and felt his forehead. “You were yelling. What’s the matter?” she asked.

  To say the name, Tarin Conn, out loud would only increase the anxieties of people who were even now craning their necks in his direction. His father stood a short distance away with a scowl that made him appear older than his years.

  Daniel stretched and yawned. “I had a bad dream, that’s all,” he said, and shrugged, hoping to convey it was nothing for anyone to worry about.

  “I’m telling you it is a bad omen,” Orin whined. He was unfortunately among the listeners. “Daniel has nightmares and they come to life and haunt us.”

  To argue the point was useless, but Daniel did not think the remark should be left unanswered. He stood up and fixed a cold stare at the old mountaineer.

  Sherree came out of the kitchen and seemed to sense the mood. She glanced at Orin and spared a few sharp looks for most everyone else in the room. “There’s nothing in here for you to do. Why don’t you go outside and fix something?” she said, directing her remarks at Orin, who mumbled under his breath and walked away.

  The few people who did not leave after she was done speaking kept their distance while the Talented with the yellow-gold hair sat down. Her silk hood was up but several locks were visible. Her bright green eyes stared as if taking in every detail to be analyzed by her keen mind. “Sit, we need to talk,” she said in a soft voice that made a man want to obey.

  Daniel sat down, resigned, knowing there was no avoiding the coming conversation. He had no doubt she wanted to talk about Aakadon. Between Tarin Conn’s constant recruiting efforts and the Talenteds wanting to cart him off to their city, he felt like a gnat over a fish pond where landing anywhere would get him devoured.

  Sherree extended her right hand. “May I?” she requested, stopping just short of touching his forehead.

  Trusting her was risky, especially since he did not know her intentions. Even a Talented would know a spell for splitting small rocks. Six bolts or none, hard headed as some folks have accused him of being, unshielded, he knew she could kill him. There was no sign of cruelty in those emerald eyes so he nodded affirmatively and waited.

  Her warm hand pressed lightly against his forehead, feeling rather pleasant in and of itself. A soft amber glow formed around her and poured into him, making him feel blessedly rested. She broke contact and leaned back in her chair.

  “Do you feel better?” she asked, and nodded satisfactorily, as though she already to knew the answer.

  “Yes, thank you,” Daniel replied, unable to keep the amazement out of his voice. That was not one of the spells Terroll had taught him. She must have spent time with the Aloe Guild. “This is the best I’ve felt in days,” he added, and was pleased to see his response bring a smile to her face.

  She leaned in close, and then glanced to her left and right as if to be sure no one was close enough to over hear what she was about to say. “I know Samuel spoke briefly with you about coming to Aakadon. Please come with us, it really would be for the best,” she told him softly, and then paused as if to be analyzing his reaction to her words. It was a shame she had to spoil the restful moment with such a depressing topic. “Don’t frown, hear me out. You need to be trained. I’m told the random spell you originally cast is what drew the yetis.”

  It was hard not to frown at her when she did not know a fraction of what was happening or how dangerous going to Aakadon would be for him, a six-bolt Accomplished. Well, she did ask for it. He was not going to let her remain totally ignorant. “How I happened upon that spell, the Creator knows. One thing is for sure, it turned my life inside out and then upside down. The changes are making me into something I never asked or even wanted to be,” he started and could not stop, “You don’t understand. Everybody seems to think there are only a few yetis in the forest. I wish it was true. Every nightmare creature I’ve ever heard of is after me. Worse still, Tarin Conn is after me,” he said, and shivered even though the air carried no chill. “The army he sent is under the direct command of the Serpent Guild. Balen Tamm is even now plotting to destroy Bashierwood and capture me, and the only thing you want to discuss is my going to Aakadon.”

  Sherree peered across the table with eyes widening, if the talk frightened her then so much the better. She leaned as far forward as possible. “How do you know all of this?” she asked, giving her undivided attention, as were the people who no doubt now wished they had left the room earlier. Only Tim stood stone faced and ridged.

  Too much had been said. Daniel felt a stab of guilt for frightening people this way. He regretted doing it. Talk of the Dark Maestro and or certain spells would inevitably lead to a discussion on rank. He combed back his hair with his fingers and sighed. Folks were better off believing him to be a Potential.

  Sherree pursed her lips, and even that was attractive on her face, but Daniel refused to entertain such thoughts any further. She really was more dangerous than her two friends. “We know you received some training, that much is obvious,” she said, and then paused as if waiting for something or perhaps thinking over her next words. He could not say what but she
did seem determined. “I noticed some of your spell casting during the attack and healing of the injured people afterwards.”

  She probably witnessed the locate spell. She could not have seen more during the battle, he was sure. The flame throwing and death spell were deliberately performed out of the Talented’s line of sight. Daniel was not biting the bait.

  She dove in at another angle. The woman was tenacious he had to give her that. “Not that I could see the effects your spells were having on the yetis. That is, not until afterwards and their chard remains were everywhere,” she added, drawing accurate conclusions.

  Daniel knew the conversation should be brought to an end before he slipped and revealed something he really did not want known. Those understanding eyes demanded to know more and he was tempted to oblige. Well, he could tell her just a little more without getting into trouble. “An Accomplished came through Bashierwood not long ago. He, like you, wanted me to go with him to Aakadon. I refused, so he taught me enough to keep me from hurting myself or others,” he explained. And wondered if Terroll did send these Talenteds?

  Sherree sat back in her chair and licked her lips thoughtfully. “I know nothing of this Accomplished you mentioned, but I do know we came here by order of the Grand Maestro to discover who cast the High Power spell,” she said, and he believed her.

  Perhaps Terroll did not send the Talenteds after all. That was good to know; not that Daniel would have sought revenge had it turned out to be otherwise. The spell certainly attracted the attention of Balen Tamm; why not that of Aakadon as well? He noticed his water glass had been filled again and took a sip.

  “How do you know Tarin Conn is after you?” Sherree persisted with the questions. She was not unlike his mother when she had something on her mind, no sidetracking that one.

  Daniel swallowed wrong and coughed. She would not leave him alone until he gave a satisfactory answer. Her dogged approach aside, he knew the people of Bashierwood stood a good chance of not living beyond tomorrow. They should at least be told why. “I can’t explain,” will not, “Tarin Conn can and does enter my dreams every time I fall asleep,” he began and smiled at Sherree. “Your spell provided the only relief I’ve had for more days than I care to remember. Even that good spell doesn’t make up for the lack of real uninterrupted sleep, but it helps. I don’t know how to keep him from haunting me,” he confessed, and was relived when she placed a warm hand on his shoulder.

  Her eyes looked to be the very portrait of sincerity and understanding. “All the more reason for you to come with us, Aakadon possesses knowledge gleaned over thousands of years. If any person in the world could help you, it would be the Grand Maestro,” she replied, giving no sign her response was borne of anything other than genuine compassion and concern.

  Daniel let a sigh escape when she removed her hand from his shoulder, making him wonder if it was the loss of contact or the weight of the decision he had to make. He decided it was a little of both. He asked himself one simple question, what is worse than going to Aakadon? The answer was clear in his mind, facing Tarin Conn in every dream.

  Tim was standing in the corner and only a flatlander would believe he had not been listening. He crossed the room silently and pulled up a chair, ignoring the reproachful look he received from Sherree, a look that seemed to demand he stay out of the conversation. “If the Grand Maestro can help you, I’ll come to see that they don’t keep you longer than you want to be there.”

  Daniel knew he could not have found a better friend, although the archer could not do much against a city full of Aakacarns. For that matter, Daniel did not think there was much he could do either. All told, he liked the idea of having at least one ally. “Thanks, in that case I’ll go. That is, if we survive the final assault tomorrow.”

  Sherree gave a smile that slowly faded to a frown, an expression that in no way diminished her beauty. “This situation could go on for days, what makes you think the final battle will be tomorrow?” she asked, apparently unable to refrain from probing deeper.

  She seemed to want to know and every person in the room seemed anxious to hear his reply. Daniel figured they had a right to know. “Tarin Conn told me.”

  Chapter Eighteen: The final Assault

  Daniel watched the faces of those sharing the dining area with him go from skepticism to grim acceptance. Hough Bess started for the front door and with a nod of his head was followed outside by Chad Grening, Kemer Tannet, Donald Laird, and Bernie Keppin. It was not hard to figure out why. The fortifications would have to be doubled and more arrows would need to be made. Finally, everybody seemed to be taking Daniel’s warning as fact rather than opinion.

  “I suppose the wind spell will be needed again,” Sherree remarked, seemingly worn out by the thought of summoning and wielding the potential again. “I better let Samuel and Jerremy know,” she added, and then rose gracefully and went into the kitchen.

  Daniel stood up. He did not want to fall asleep again and little time could be spared on idle chatter. “We should help make arrows,” he said, glancing at Tim, who nodded agreement.

  Standing on the dusty street outside the Polkat, Daniel fought down the urge to take a deep breath, being mindful of the smoke rising from the remains of the beasts in the fields around Bashierwood. He studied the surroundings with all the hunting skills his father had taught him. The sun was an orange sphere hanging low in the western sky, casting long shadows that played tricks on the eye, giving the uneasy feeling that yetis were hiding in all the dark places. The cool breeze still carried the stench of burnt hair and flesh. Half a score of older boys were out in the southern field collecting arrows from the shaggy corpses. Bob Frankle and Caleb Vansent seemed to have repairs to the western barricade nearly completed. Each worker spared more than a few anxious glances at the darkening forest, producing an extra burst of speed as a result; no doubt Hough was spreading the word quickly.

  Daniel waved a polite greeting to villagers who acted like they were greeting someone important, never mind most of them knew him since the day of his birth. He passed the livery without so much as glancing inside; little could be done for the dead other than giving them a decent burial. He noticed Tim avoiding the sight as well.

  Todd Thatcher’s supply store had been chosen as the place in which to make arrows. The log building spread as far and wide as did the Polkat, although had only one floor. Daniel went inside and identified all the occupants in a single glance. His father sat honing a long shaft that would eventually be an arrow. He had three quivers full already. Ten men and six women were busy following the master carpenter’s example. Gina worked silently in the far corner. It came as no surprise to see Tim hurry over and begin working beside her.

  Daniel picked up a piece of wood and went to work beside his father. Toiling together was like old times and felt good. He finished an arrow, fletching and all, placed it in a quiver, and then started another. Was there a spell for making arrows? The thought brought several Melodies to mind but somehow it did not seem wise to cast either of them, conserving his strength for the coming battle seemed more prudent. Besides, he found the monotonous work somewhat comforting after the excitement of the past few days. He glanced at his father, who smiled back. The relationship had changed, but some things were still the same.

  He toiled until sunlight filtered through the minute cracks in the door. He stretched and yawned and placed the last completed arrow into a quiver. In spite of the fact that hundreds of arrows had been made, he knew there would not be nearly enough of them to do the job. His spell casting would be the deciding factor and he prayed with all his heart that he would be up to the task.

  “Good job, son. I was beginning to think you had forgotten how to work with your hands,” his father said, good-naturedly.

  “A person doesn’t forget what he enjoys doing,” Daniel replied with a saying used often by the master carpenter.

  His father winked and smiled broadly. “No, we certainly don’t,” he said, and his smile va
nished. “Shouldn’t you be talking to Hough about the assault?”

  Well, the moment was fine while it lasted. Daniel was glad enough to have spent even a short time just being the carpenter’s son. He nodded affirmatively. “Yes, but I’ll be checking the northern defense first,” he replied, and then headed outside.

  He approached the barricade and noticed the crates were stacked higher than before. Seven archers stood atop the fortification with grim determination carved into their faces. Tensions throughout the village ran high and folks seemed jumpier than crickets on an ant hill. A quick glance down the street showed the southern barricade equally prepared.

  Hough Bess hurried forward and matched stride. “You said something last night about a spell to locate yetis,” he began, between breaths.

  Daniel slowed, out of courtesy. The mayor seemed to be at wits end. Battling yetis was not something the elected leader probably expected to be doing. “I was just about to cast the spell,” he replied, and came to a stop.

  Hough folded his arms and stood like a man waiting to hear what promised to be bad news. Lying to make him feel better likely would not work and was morally unacceptable. Besides which, the grim reality would not allow a falsehood to last beyond the first bellow of a yeti.

  Daniel closed his eyes and summoned the potential, casting the spell as far and wide as he could, which took in most of Tannakonna. He gasped, and nearly lost the integrity of the spell. Tarin Conn had not been lying about eight tenths of a legion being on the mountain. The nearest enemy concentration came from the north while masses of them flowed up the southern slope and from the east and west as well. There was a Condemned for every twenty yetis. He had no doubt the assault would begin soon.

  His spell located three Accomplisheds on the north trail, moving south. The third person had the taint of the Condemned. Twelve of the twisted humans were walking about a stone’s throw from the Aakacarns. Back in Bashierwood, the three Talenteds exited the Polkat and were moving towards him.