He looked around the room and then sighed.
“Oh crap. I left it up in the study.”
“Stay and rest, master. I will get it.”
Kronk jumped down and hurried to the stairs.
“Thanks,” Simon called after him as the little guy scurried up the staircase.
While he waited for the earthen to return, the wizard idly scanned the room, his mind comfortably blank. By the front door, Bene-Dunn-Gal leaned in its usual spot. The light from the fire reflected off of the smooth bronze that spiraled up along its length until it reached the large gem at the top.
Simon stared at the staff and frowned as he remembered something. Maybe it was because he wasn't thinking about anything in particular. Maybe it was something else. But he suddenly recalled the day that he had summoned the staff. Something had changed that day. It teased his memory enough that he got up, crossed the room, wincing as his joints ached and throbbed, and carried the staff back to his chair.
When Kronk hopped back down the stairs carrying the spell-book, he found the wizard sitting with Bene-Dunn-Gal lying across his knees, slowly running his hands down its length.
“Here is the book, master,” the elemental piped up when he reached the chair.
Simon glanced at him blankly.
“Hmm? Oh, right. Thanks. Just leave it beside the chair.”
Kronk left the book on the floor and hopped back up on the arm of the chair. He looked at the staff with a mixture of curiosity and wariness.
“Why are you looking at that thing, master?” he asked.
“I just remembered something, bud. Weird that it took until now to recall it, actually.”
He continued to stroke the staff as if patting a pet dog. Kronk watched uncomfortably.
“What did you remember, master?”
Simon stopped rubbing the staff, which had taken on a warm glow in the firelight. If an inanimate object could look content, Bene-Dunn-Gal was that object.
He ran a finger along the smooth metal of the staff and looked at Kronk.
“When I first saw the staff, when I summoned it with the spell that Daniel left for me, this metal wasn't bare.”
Kronk leaned forward and examined the bronze wrapping.
“It was not? Then what was on it, master?”
“Writing. Line after line of tiny, almost unreadable writing. I was still fairly new to magic then and I didn't recognize it for what it was. But I do now.”
He looked at the elemental with an expression of amazement.
“They were spells, Kronk. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of spells. Row after row of them, all the way from the bottom of the staff to the top. Then I took possession of Bene-Dunn-Gal and it absorbed a drop of my blood...”
Kronk grimaced and Simon smiled grimly.
“Yeah, I know. I still hate that. Anyway, when that happened and the staff bonded with me, all of those spells disappeared, as if someone had erased the writing the way you would wipe off a chalkboard.”
“And what do you think that means, master?”
“I think,” Simon began to speak slowly, feeling his way, “that the staff's previous owner used it to store spells. No matter how advanced the wizard is, except for a few utility spells, all incantations must be memorized before they can be cast. I think that Bene-Dunn-Gal allows a wizard to store spells for future use.”
Kronk's eyes widened as he looked at the staff with new interest.
“Master! If that is so, then the staff would be a potent weapon indeed.”
“Exactly. If I could store twenty, thirty, a hundred spells within it, to be cast as I needed them, just think how useful that would be.”
“You would certainly become a force to be reckoned with, master,” Kronk said in an intense whisper. “If it is possible.”
Simon held up the staff with both hands.
“Bene-Dunn-Gal, you heard what I just said. Is it true? Can you store spells for the wizard that you are bonded to?”
The staff shuddered along its length and a low moan, barely audible, came from it.
Kronk drew back and stared at the weapon.
“I do not trust that thing, master,” he said. “It is too much like a living creature for my liking.”
Simon put the staff on the floor in front of his chair and sat back, trying to get comfortable. His chest was heavy and he felt feverish.
“I think that it does have some sort of rudimentary intelligence, but I don't think it's evil. I think that it enjoys being used, being powerful. Or it would if it could think. Maybe it can.”
He reached down, picked the staff and then stood up and returned it to its spot by the door.
“Anyway, I'll try to store a spell in it when I'm feeling better. At the moment I'm so weak I doubt that I could conjure up a happy thought.”
He walked toward the stairs.
“I'm going to bed, Kronk.”
He stopped at the foot of the staircase and looked back at the little guy.
“Are your friends manning the wall? I should have asked you that earlier.”
Kronk jumped down and tapped over to look up at the wizard.
“Yes, master. I will join them after you lay down to rest. I want to build up the fire before I go out. A sick person shouldn't be cold; you could catch a chill on top of your flu.”
“Thanks, bud. I'll see you in the morning. If anything happens before then, wake me up.”
“Sleep well, master. We will keep you safe while you rest.”
Simon smiled at the elemental and slowly plodded up the stairs.
Maybe I'll feel better in the morning, he thought. I really hate being sick.
Chapter 15
Simon's hopes for a speedy recovery were wildly optimistic. Not only was he not feeling any better the next day, but his flu lingered on for over a week. And he was not happy about it.
“I know I'm grouchy!” he growled at Kronk one morning several days later.
The elemental had made the comment when Simon snarled at him for asking how he was feeling, for about the millionth time.
“Maybe I wouldn't be if you'd quit being such a mother hen.”
He was sitting in his usual spot in front of the fireplace, a cup of tea in one hand and an open book in the other.
Kronk stood on the floor in front of him and put his little hands on his hips. His eyes burned intensely red as he glared up at the wizard.
“Perhaps I would not be such a 'mother hen', whatever that is, if my beloved master was not so cranky all of the time!” he said sharply.
That got Simon's attention. The little guy never spoke to him in that tone of voice and he knew that he had pushed the almost endless patience of the elemental too far.
The wizard took a deep breath.
“I'm sorry,” he stated simply. Kronk's expression didn't change. “I really am. I know what a pain I am when I'm sick, especially when it keeps me from doing basically anything.”
The elemental snorted but his eyes returned to their normal soft glow.
“Very well, master. If it improves your mood, you look and sound much better today. I am sure that, in another day or two, you will be back to normal.”
Simon tried to smile. The little guy was right. His joints still ached and the throbbing behind his eyes was still there, but the pain was much more bearable.
“I think you're right. I'm actually going to try to store a simple spell in Bene-Dunn-Gal today. Nothing too strenuous,” he added hastily as Kronk's expression changed to one of concern. “Just the Light spell. It's always in my memory now anyway, so it shouldn't be hard to use it for the experiment.”
“That should be fine, master,” Kronk said reluctantly. “If you are set on testing your theory.” He hopped up on the arm of the chair. “By the way, we saw no suspicious movements last night. All was quiet as usual.”
Simon got up and retrieved his staff. He sat down again, careful not to knock the little guy off of the chair as he did so.
“Good
to know. I'll have to thank your friends for their efforts. I'll admit that I've slept easier knowing that the six of you have been keeping watch.”
Kronk puffed up a little and Simon tried not to grin at the elemental's pleasure at his compliment.
“They know, master. To be honest, they are all pleased to be helping guard such a great wizard.”
Simon almost dropped his staff as he burst out laughing.
“A great wizard? Oh, come on! Me? I'm barely past an apprentice's skill level even now, that much I know.”
He settled Bene-Dunn-Gal across his knees as he stared at Kronk.
The little guy shook a finger at him.
“You destroyed the primal black dragon, master. Even in the realm of Earth, a deed like that does not go unnoticed. There is a certain pride among my brethren to be serving you. In fact, I believe that they are looked upon with some envy when they return to my world after working for you.”
“Really? Huh. Well, if it makes them happy, then why not? That whole episode is a bit over-rated as far as I'm concerned.”
Kronk made a sound of disgust that made Simon smile.
“Anyway, let's give this experiment a shot and get it over with.”
He set his cup on the floor next to the chair and then grasped Bene-Dunn-Gal firmly with both hands.
“Okay. I have no idea how this is supposed to work,” he muttered to Kronk.
The elemental tapped his chin thoughtfully.
“I suppose you simply cast the spell at the staff, master. If you are correct, it will absorb the spell into itself and hold it until you wish to release it.”
Simon looked from Kronk to the staff and back again.
“You know, sometimes I really do underestimate you, my friend. That actually sounds about right. If it works, of course.”
“It is just a guess, master. If it does not work, casting the Light spell will at least do no damage.”
“True. Okay.”
The wizard stood up, grimacing at the pain in his knees. He decided that he should be standing for this experiment. He walked to the center of the room, planted the end of Bene-Dunn-Gal on the floor and held it tightly with both hands.
“Okay. Here we go.”
He chanted the Light spell aloud, staring intently at the metal gleaming on the staff. When the incantation was finished, he hesitated and then used the word of command to invoke it.
“Invectis,” he said quietly.
Bene-Dunn-Gal blazed for a split second, a golden light flowing along its length. The metal under Simon's hands warmed noticeably, but didn't become hot. And then the staff was quiescent in his hands again.
“Did it work, master?”
“No idea. Let's see.”
Simon walked back and sat down again. He put the staff across his knees and started examining it closely.
“Any sign of writing on it?” he asked Kronk as he peered at the metal along the staff.
The firelight was throwing dancing shadows across the staff and his nose was almost touching Bene-Dunn-Gal as he searched it.
Kronk was leaning forward and staring at the staff intensely. He pointed at the very bottom suddenly.
“There, master. What is that?”
Simon slid the staff across his knees and squinted down at the bottom of the bronze coating. There, in minuscule writing, was the incantation for the Light spell.
“Son of a...” Simon muttered, wide-eyed. He looked at Kronk incredulously. “I don't believe it. It worked! It actually worked.”
Kronk looked gleeful, apparently forgetting his original objections to the experiment.
“Look how little room the spell takes on the metal, master! You could imbue the staff with hundreds of incantations.”
Simon sat back and exhaled in relief.
“Wow. This could be a game-changer, my friend. It really could.”
He stroked the staff lightly and Bene-Dunn-Gal responded with a low sound, like a contented cat purring at its owner.
“Apparently the staff is pleased as well,” Simon said, amused, but Kronk's expression darkened.
“Never take that object lightly, master. It is a relic of great power, and it seems to be self-aware. A dangerous combination.”
The wizard stopped touching Bene-Dunn-Gal and met Kronk's eyes soberly.
“I know it is. And while I may be excited by this discovery, I'm well aware that any object that demands blood as payment for services rendered isn't exactly heaven-sent. So don't worry.”
Kronk hopped down and crossed the floor to the front door.
“I am glad to hear you say that, master. And now I must see to the horses. Congratulations on your success!”
Simon watched the little guy fondly as he pulled open the door and went outside. He really was a mother hen, for sure, but who else in this entire world cared more about Valagar the bumbling wizard, formerly Simon O'Toole the I.T. guy, than Kronk?
He got up and returned the staff to its resting place next to the door. One spell inscribed on it was enough for today. Simon was still suffering from the occasional chill and he wanted nothing more than to sit in front of the fire, drink cups of tea and read his books. He trusted his Changling body to throw off the effects of the flu, eventually. He just wished that it would get on with it.
Two days later and Simon really was back to normal, or close to it. He was feeling well enough to help Kronk plant seeds for the season's first crop in the garden. As well, he cleaned the stables and then let the horses out to run in the pasture along the lake.
The grass was lush enough now for the three horses to feed off of and not depend on hay alone. Simon sat in the sun and enjoyed watching them as they grazed.
Tammy still blended in with her surroundings, her mottled coat making her hard to see even in the open field. Sunshine, with her bright yellow coat, moved like molten gold and Simon found himself watching her with a wide smile on his face. She was quite simply beautiful and a joy to observe.
And Chief was, as usual, a beast out of legend. With his mane and tail made of spikes and the two horns over his eyes, Simon felt that the stallion belonged in a book of mythical creatures. Anyone who didn't know what a gentle creature he was would be quite intimidated by his appearance.
Each horse wandered by while he sat watching them, nudging him, looking for pats and caresses. Simon was happy to oblige, laughing loudly when Chief pushed him so hard with his head that the wizard was actually bowled over and rolled twice in the grass.
By noon, Simon was ready for some lunch and made some sandwiches to eat on the front steps. It was too nice a day to be stuck indoors. He was just finishing his meal and chatting quietly with Kronk, while watching one of the earth elementals walking along the top of the wall, when a rumble of distant thunder made him look around in confusion.
The sky was a deep, pure blue with only a few scudding clouds racing across it and he frowned as he looked up.
“A storm? Doesn't look like it,” he commented to his little friend.
Kronk looked around alertly.
“Not a storm, master,” he said tersely. “I think it's...”
He was cut off by a sudden flash of light that appeared between the steps and the front gate,
Simon leaped to his feet and stared eagerly at the spot where a glowing, hovering mist was coalescing.
“Is that what I think it is?” he asked Kronk hopefully.
“I think it is, master.”
The earth elemental was watching the glowing spot intently.
Both of them stood unmoving and waited to see what would happen. Simon's hands were clenched into fists and he was shaking with anxiety.
“Come forward, wizard,” a voice called from within the mist. It was strained and weak, but Simon thought that it sounded like Aethos.
He walked slowly down the steps and cautiously approached the now pulsing mist. He stopped a few paces away and peered at it.
“Aethos?” he asked hesitantly.
“Yes
ss,” the voice replied with a exhausted sigh. “We have extended ourselves to save our small brother, but the cost was high. I have given him some of my essence but left myself weakened. I will not respond again if you attempt to summon me until I have regenerated, so bear that in mind.”
“I understand,” Simon said gravely. “Thank you for your efforts on our behalf.”
“It was not for you, wizard. It was for one of our own. But before I return the little one to you, I will have your vow.”
“My vow?” Simon repeated, perplexed. “About what?”
“You will vow to hunt down those responsible for attacking one of our people. You will vow to discover how he was injured. Aeris claims not to remember specifics. We are not so easily harmed and we must know how it was done.”
Aethos' voice strengthened.
“And you will vow to stop these attackers, by whatever means necessary.”
Simon began to speak and Aethos cut him off.
“Mind, wizard, that we will be watching you to ensure that you keep your word. Should you not, we will withdraw our favor and take back our brother. And we will never aid you again. Will you give your vow?”
The wizard watched the formless mist swirling in front of him and had a feeling of dread. He knew, somehow, that this was one of those moments in life where he was about to take a step that would change his destiny, forever.
Would he swear to destroy whoever or whatever had attacked Aeris? What if it had been a mistake, or an error? He could be vowing to hunt down an innocent.
He remembered Aeris' broken body and felt his resolve harden. No, that hadn't been an accident. Someone had meant to kill his friend. There had to be a price to pay for that.
He looked grimly deep into the mist.
“You have my vow, Aethos. There is an evil out there now that must be dealt with. And it harmed an air elemental. I didn't even know that was possible. So I will find this force and stop it. I swear.”
“I accept your word, wizard. Make sure you keep it.”
There was another bright flash of light and Simon covered his eyes, blinking furiously. When he could see clearly again, the mist, and Aethos, was gone. In its place was a familiar foot-tall figure floating lightly where the mist had been.
Tales from the New Earth: Volume One Page 62