Aeris looked at him and then nodded reluctantly.
“Yes. We'll be there. Where else would we be?”
“Thanks guys,” Simon said, touched by their loyalty. “But if you come along, I'll want you to stay out of the battle.” He chuckled grimly. “Someone should survive to remember the last battle of Simon the unlikely wizard and his misguided friends.”
“Master, don't say that!” Kronk sounded a little shocked. “You are not defeated, and you may not be defeated. I believe in you.” He hesitated. “Even if you do not believe in yourself.”
Simon stared at the little guy for a moment and then looked away, feeling slightly ashamed of himself.
“Yeah, you're right, my friend. Thanks for that. I'm just trying to be realistic here, you know? I mean, come on. It's a frigging dragon. Ageless, evil, more powerful than I can even imagine. And we're...”
His voice trailed off. Then Simon shook his head.
“But that kind of talk is poison, isn't it? We haven't lost yet. And who knows? I've read that battles can shift by the smallest of margins and be won by the forces expected to lose. We can certainly hope for that.”
He looked down at his crude map again.
“Anyway, tomorrow morning I have another job for you both. You may not do much during the actual battle, but maybe what you do before it happens will help our side to triumph.”
“We'll help in any way we can, master.”
Aeris was silent until Kronk poked him pointedly.
“Yes, of course we will,” the air elemental blurted out as he glared at Kronk.
Simon chuckled.
“Good. I'll fill you in tomorrow. For tonight, I know it's early but I'm beat.”
He stood up, rinsed out his cup and put it away.
“You guys have a good night,” he said as he began to climb the stairs. “I'll see you in the morning.”
The next morning, Simon woke early and his first thought was: five days until the battle.
Cheerful way to start the day, he said to himself.
After breakfast, he took his cup of tea outside. He was carrying his atlas under one arm.
The morning was bright again, a few clouds scudding drunkenly across the sky. As he was sitting on the top step in front of his door, Kronk appeared from around one corner of the tower and Aeris flew around the other.
“Morning, guys,” Simon said. “Nice timing there.”
The two elementals exchanged a glance and shrugged.
“So what jobs do you have for us today, Simon?” Aeris asked.
“You both saw the markings I made on my map?”
He drew the paper from a pocket in his robe, laid the atlas across his knees and put the picture on top of it.
“Yes, master.” Kronk hopped up to the top step and stood next to Simon, looking at the map spread out on the book. Aeris flew up to hover on the opposite side.
“What are those little squares all around the edge of the island?” Aeris asked as he pointed them out.
“Those, my friends, are rafts. I want to station however many archers we have on rafts on the river, instead of on the island itself.”
Aeris' eyes widened while Kronk nodded his understanding.
“You are playing on the dragon's weakness to water, aren't you, master?” he asked, sounding impressed.
“Exactly, Kronk. If we float a dozen rafts or so on the river around the island, maybe ten yards or so from the shore, and we anchor them in place to give the archers a stable platform to shoot from, we might have an advantage over the dragon.” He shrugged. “And if the worst happens and the beast attacks them from a distance with fire, they'll be able to dive into the water to avoid being hurt.”
“You know something, Simon?” Aeris said. “That's actually quite clever.”
“Gee thanks.” Simon said a bit sarcastically.
“No, I'm serious.”
Aeris floated closer to the map.
“Just how big is this island anyway?” he asked as he stared intently at the picture.
“I'm not exactly sure,” Simon told him. “Which is where you come in.”
“I do?”
“Yep. I'd like you to travel to the island today and scout it out. I need a fairly exact description of the place, especially any area bare of obstructions like trees or large rocks.”
“Why?”
“Because, my dear Aeris, when you return, I'm going to Gate there and see it for myself. It's bound to have changed somewhat in the years since my last visit and I can't make a real plan of attack until I see the lay of the land.”
“Is that wise, master?” Kronk asked anxiously. “What if you are spotted by drakes? There may be some patrolling the area.”
“So what if I am?” Simon replied. He wasn't worried about drakes. “The damned things can't swim, remember? And the island is surrounded by water. I'm sure I'll be safe enough.”
As Kronk opened his mouth to voice another objection, Simon cut him off.
“And yes, I'm sure enough of my abilities now to cast a Gate spell without killing myself, in case that was what you were about to ask.”
Kronk subsided with a small shake of his head. He didn't approve, obviously, but stayed silent.
“Besides, my friend, you have other things to worry about.”
Kronk stared at him curiously and Simon tapped on the map.
“I need you and your friends who helped build our wall to construct the rafts for me. Can you do that?”
Kronk's face split into a wide grin. He loves being useful, Simon thought and smiled back at the little guy.
“Of course, master! Just tell me how big and how many and we'll have your rafts built in no time at all.”
“Excellent! Well, I need them about twelve feet square. And they should be made of two layers of logs, to give them some mass and stability.”
Kronk was listening eagerly and nodded as Simon spoke.
“Also, I'll need lengths of heavy chain with an anchor on one end, to keep the raft from floating downstream. Can you do that?”
“Child's play, master. We can craft anything from metal.”
Kronk fell silent for a minute, working things out in his head.
“How long should the chains be, master?” he asked finally.
“Well, the river isn't all that deep in that section. No more than forty feet or so, I'd say.”
Simon opened the atlas to where he'd left a bookmark and tapped the island with a fingertip.
“Here's the island. And here,” he tapped a location to the lower left, “is the tower. I think you should build the rafts as close as you can to the island and leave them just inside the trees on the shore.”
He glanced at Kronk who was studying the map intensely.
“Do you think you can find it?”
The little guy gave Simon a wounded look.
“Of course, master. I can read a map.”
“Wonder of wonders,” Aeris muttered and Kronk glared at him.
“Not now, Aeris,” Simon said absently. “Now Kronk, if you're sure you can do this and you can find the island, I'd like you to get started as soon as you can.”
“At once, master,” the elemental said happily. “The horses are fed and watered and the corn isn't quite ripe enough to harvest.”
He hopped down the steps and stood at the bottom.
“I will call for my fellow earthen once I reach the forest near the island.”
He hesitated and then cocked his head at Simon.
“Please be careful, master,” he said earnestly.
“I will, my friend. You as well. Let me know if you are having any problems. If not, I'll see you when you're done.”
Kronk nodded, waved and then sank out of sight.
Simon turned to Aeris.
“Your turn,” he said. “I want to get to the island before noon. Time's racing and I need to see what we'll be dealing with on the day.”
“I'm on it, Simon. I'll be back in an hour or so.”
And the air elemental disappeared with a little pop.
Well, Simon thought. At least we're doing something.
He got up, took his things inside and put them on the table. Then he returned to the door, grabbed the staff that was leaning next to it and walked outside again.
“And now, Bene-Dunn-Gal,” he said to the length of wood and brass. “Let's see what you can do.”
The staff warmed under his hand and seemed to hum happily. Simon shuddered but kept walking toward the gate. Any weapon is better than no weapon at all, he thought grimly.
Simon was never sure how long it took for Aeris to return from his scouting trip. An hour? Two? It didn't matter, really.
But when the air elemental reappeared, Simon was standing in the middle of the field outside the gate surrounded by a dozen smoking craters.
Aeris floated swiftly toward him and Simon grinned as he approached.
“Hey buddy!” he called, “How's it going?”
“Simon?” Aeris looked at the craters scattered across the field. Some still had wisps of smoke from burning grass and dirt rising above them.
“By the four winds, what is going on here?” he asked in disbelief.
“I'll tell you what, my wispy little friend. I've just cast a dozen Fireball spells and I don't even feel tired.”
He waved at the craters with the gleaming staff and giggled loudly.
“Isn't it awesome?”
“Awesome? Simon, you should be flat on your back right now. Casting that many major spells can hurt or even kill a wizard.”
“I know! Amazing, isn't it?” Simon giggled again and staggered slightly.
“It's this staff. All I have to do is think of a spell that I want to cast and boom!, there it is. Why, that dragon's as good as cooked! I don't even know why we're waiting! I should just Gate over to his lair and take him on now.”
Aeris' eyes widened.
“Whoa! Whoa there, Simon.”
He peered intently at the wizard.
“Have you been drinking?”
The question cut through Simon's euphoria and he stared at the elemental, squinting a bit to keep him in focus.
“Of course not. That would be crazy. Casting spells while drunk? Sounds like a lethal combination to me.”
“It is,” Aeris agreed. “So then, why are you weaving back and forth? Why are your words slurred like a drunken sailor's?” Aeris paused and looked closely at Simon. “And since when have you started going gray?”
“What?”
Simon shook his head to try and clear it. But he became dizzy instead and fell to his knees, dropping the staff to stop himself from falling face first into the ground.
As he released the length of wood, the world became clear in an instant, as if someone had ripped a piece of gauze off of his eyes. Simon pushed himself to his feet and looked around, aghast.
“What the hell was I thinking?” he murmured in shock. The smell of burnt grass and soil made him cough. “I cast one Fireball spell and suddenly I wanted to keep on doing it. It was like some sort of compulsion took hold of me. It felt so good.”
Aeris floated next to Simon's shoulder and stared at the staff lying in the grass as if it were a snake coiled and prepared to strike.
“It's that staff, Simon,” he said in a whisper, as if afraid the thing could hear him. “It's cursed.”
“Cursed?” Simon almost laughed but the destruction around him stifled the sound in his throat. “But, how is that possible? Daniel wouldn't give me a gift that was dangerous.”
“He wouldn't knowingly do so, no. But there are many tales of cursed weapons from the old days of magic. Weapons that used their owners to feed their own desires. And those desires were rarely benevolent.”
“You make it sound like it's alive,” Simon replied quietly, watching the staff distrustfully.
“In a way, it may be. Magical objects are rare, Simon. And yes, some have a sort of sentience. Basic perhaps, but there just the same.”
Simon ran both hands through his hair and stopped abruptly.
“Wait a second. Did you say I was going gray?”
Aeris nodded solemnly.
“Oh damn. What is that thing?”
“Dangerous, my dear wizard. Dangerous and powerful. A bad combination in this case.”
Simon turned abruptly toward the tower and started to walk away quickly.
“Wait,” Aeris called. “What about the staff?”
“Stay there,” Simon said over his shoulder. “I'll be right back.”
Aeris hovered in place, watching the staff warily. After a moment, he backed away a bit further and waited.
Simon hurried back out of the tower holding a length of canvas. When he returned to stand next to Aeris, he grimaced at the elemental's curious look.
“I'm not touching that thing again. Not until I figure out what we're dealing with here.”
He dropped the canvas over the staff carefully and then slowly rolled it up until it was just a long shape inside the material.
Simon thought he felt the staff shake and a sound, like a hiss, came from inside the wrapping.
He swallowed loudly and then headed back to the tower.
“I'll put this in the basement for safekeeping,” he told Aeris. “I have enough to worry about right now without adding cursed weapons to the mix.”
When he came upstairs from the basement where he'd placed the staff against the wall and covered it with boxes, Aeris was putting the kettle on the fire.
“Thanks, Aeris.”
Simon walked over to one of his cabinets and rifled through it for a moment. He pulled out a small hand mirror and stared at his reflection.
“Hold crap,” he said. There were two small streaks of white at his temples, contrasting sharply against his dark brown hair. His unlined face made the gray look even more out of place.
He shook his head, put the mirror away and went back to sit down at the kitchen table.
“What was it like?” Aeris asked him after Simon had sat quietly for a long moment, staring at nothing.
“What? Using the staff?” The elemental nodded. “It was like, well, like the old days, when I could pick up weights that would be impossible for most other men. I felt powerful.” He hesitated. “No, I felt unstoppable. Like a force of nature. Like a...god.”
He shivered at the thought.
“Easy, Simon,”Aeris said gently. “You broke the connection. You're all right.”
“Thanks to you,” Simon said earnestly. “I owe you, Aeris. Big time. If you hadn't come back when you did...”
“You'd be a lot grayer,” Aeris said with a grin.
Simon had to laugh. Leave it to the elemental to break his mood.
“You've got that right.” He sat back and tried to relax. “Well, so much for having an extra weapon against the dragon. I guess it's just little Simon O'Toole and his merry band again.”
“That's not such a bad thing, my dear wizard,” Aeris said reassuringly. “At least you know what you can and cannot do. That staff would never have allowed you those limitations. And in the end, I think that would destroy you.”
“Yes, I think it would.” Simon stared away thoughtfully again for a minute. “Anyway, let's forget about it for now. Tell me what you found on the island.”
Simon got up and made tea while Aeris gave him his report.
“I think your choice is a good one,” he said. “The island is mostly rock, with a few scrub trees and underbrush. The little lighthouse is still there, weathered and tilting slightly, but still standing. It should burn well when you light it to attract the dragon.”
“Good. That's good. Anything else?”
Aeris watched Simon as he sat down and sipped his tea.
“Not really. As islands go, it's rather boring. If you want to Gate there, you should have no trouble. Just picture a lighthouse about twenty feet high, with faded bands of white and black paint running its length. It's leaning about thirty degrees.
Oh and there's a small fir tree next to it. The top is bare of any needles.”
Simon nodded at the description.
“Just what I needed, Aeris. Thanks.”
He finished his tea, stood up and looked at the elemental.
“I just thought of something. Can a wizard take others along when he Gates?”
“Certainly. How many depends on the power of the wizard. But several people are not beyond the ability of any spell-caster who can cast that spell.”
“Great.” Simon grinned at him and patted his own shoulder. “Have a seat. I'd like you to come along.”
Aeris looked a little dubious but flew up and perched on the wizard's shoulder.
“Just please don't start offering me crackers,” Aeris said. “I'm not a parrot.”
Simon burst out laughing. Then he called the spell to the front of his mind, intoned the incantation confidently and felt a massive push from behind accompanied by a flash of bright light as the spell took him and Aeris away.
Chapter 24
Simon staggered and skidded a few feet as he appeared on a rocky surface covered with pebbles and bits of dead twigs and leaves.
He caught his balance and Aeris floated off of his shoulder and looked around quickly.
“Well done, Simon,” he said cheerfully. “You've managed to get us here in one piece.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Simon said as he too began to look about.
They were standing on Aylmer Island. A dozen feet away stood the little lighthouse, almost as he remembered it. Except that, as Aeris had told him, it was tilted to one side. Wind, rain, heavy snows, all had taken their toll in the three years since the fall of the modern world. There had been no one to keep the small structure maintained and it was falling into decay.
Simon walked over to the lighthouse and touched its side. The wood that it was made of was still sound, but felt as dry as kindling beneath his fingers. Certainly it would burn easily, he thought. A sad but useful end to the proud little building.
With Aeris at his side, Simon began to walk around the circumference of the island. On the western side, heaps of old logs and debris had piled up against the rocky shoreline. The current, which ran from west to east, didn't seem very strong, but he supposed that it had steadily pushed all that detritus into a pile over time.
Tales from the New Earth: Volume One Page 35