Tales from the New Earth: Volume One

by Thompson, J. J.

  “Did the dwarf know how many of his people survived, master?” Kronk asked, his voice thick with sympathy.

  Simon sipped his tea and felt his body slowly relax.

  “No, he didn't. I could tell that he was anxious to find out if they had made it to the capital, wherever that is.”

  The wizard looked from Aeris to Kronk.

  “I hadn't realized just how many dwarves there were down there. By the way that Shandon spoke, there might be dozens of cities below ground, not to mention their capital.”

  “They are an ancient race, master,” Kronk told him thoughtfully. “When they retreated underground, back when the magic was withdrawn from the world, they became very secretive. No one knows what they have been doing since then, or how large their population has grown.”

  “I would guess that it isn't as large as you might imagine,” Aeris added. “They were never a very prolific race. But I have no doubt that now that the dragons have stirred their anger, they will become an intractable enemy.”

  His smile was almost cruel.

  “That attack on the dwarven stronghold might be one of the biggest mistakes the dark gods have ever made.”

  Simon considered that, looking deeply into the flames in the fireplace.

  “You know, that's a very good point.”

  He stood up, picked up the token that Ironhand had given him off of the kitchen table and returned to his seat.

  “Shandon gave me this and said that I am now kin to the dwarves. I wonder what that means, really.”

  He handed it to Kronk, who turned it over in his small hands and then returned it. The little guy looked impressed.

  “I do not know as much about the dwarves as some others do, master, but I do know that they take great pride in family. For Ironhand to, I suppose, adopt you into his clan, is a very great compliment.”

  “It's much more than a compliment,” Aeris averred as he took the token from Simon and stared at it. “It means that you have the right to call upon the dwarven race to come to your aid in battle.” The air elemental's eyes brightened. “Can you imagine it? An army of dwarven warriors, clad in their enchanted armor and wielding their mighty axes, fighting alongside you against the dragons?”

  Aeris sounded almost awestruck and Simon looked at him humorously.

  “You seem impressed by that thought,” the wizard said with a grin.

  “Of course I am. As you should be. The handful of dwarves, including Ironhand, who aided you against the primal black dragon were nothing compared to thousands of their people fighting for your cause. If it comes to the point where you need their aid, the very Earth itself would tremble beneath their army's tread.”

  Simon felt a twinge of excitement at the idea, but it was excitement muted by caution.

  “I wouldn't want to be seen to be using them, Aeris,” he told the elemental. “I took up the quest to destroy the dragons by myself. If others want to help, I'll welcome their aid. But I won't coerce or trick people into a fight that they may not want to engage in.”

  “Begging your pardon, master,” Kronk said diffidently, “but I have to agree with Aeris.”

  “You do?” the air elemental said in disbelief. “That's a new one.”

  “No it isn't,” the earthen snapped at him. “I agree with you when what you say is sensible, which it usually isn't.”

  “Guys? No fighting, please.”

  “Yes, master.” Kronk gave Aeris a final glare and then looked at Simon. “But he is right in a way. The dwarves, through Ironhand, have now vowed to fight the dragons. Your battle is their battle. You will not be tricking them if you call upon them to fight by your side.”

  There was a subtle rumble that shook the tower slightly and Simon looked at the window, where the sky was darkening rapidly.

  “Your fellow earthen have arrived to patrol the wall, by the sound of it,” he told Kronk as he stood up, grabbed a candle and lit it from the fireplace.

  “Yes, that is them, master. Right on time.”

  “I admire their reliability.”

  Simon lit several candles around the room, made himself more tea and sat down again.

  “Speaking of being reliable, I wonder how your brethren are doing out in the world?” he asked Aeris.

  The air elemental shrugged casually.

  “Fine, I'm sure. It should be several weeks before any of them return to report, so we won't know until then.”

  “Hmm.”

  The wizard relaxed and stretched his feet toward the fire. His thoughts flitted in all directions. What was the next move of the dragons? What would the dwarves do when Ironhand reported back to them? What was really going on out in the world?

  He sighed heavily.

  “There are forces moving now. Forces that may roll over us unless we take action first. But I can't do anything until we learn where the primal dragons are situated.”

  He watched the dancing flames, imagining bestial faces peering out at him, snarling and scheming.

  “Are you still determined to attack them on your own, master?” Kronk asked quietly.

  “Do I have a choice? The gods are moving against us. All signs point to it.”

  He held up a hand and ticked off his thoughts on his fingers.

  “The assault on us by those two dragons earlier this year. The attack of the undead on Nottinghill. The rogue wizard roaming the country slaying surviving humans. The destruction of Ironhand's stronghold.”

  He dropped his hand and then pushed back his hair.

  “I think the dark gods are becoming impatient. They want this world and they want it desperately. If I can take down another of their draconian servants, it will be a major setback. It may slow down their advance, give us some breathing room. Then we can try to organize aid from other Changlings world-wide.”

  Aeris looked skeptical but remained silent. Kronk made a noncommittal sound in his throat.

  “I know, I know. The odds are ridiculous. But just imagine it. There must be others like myself out there, wizards who even now are honing their skills, knowing that the dragons will hunt them down one day. If they could be gathered together, focused into a force and launched at each primal dragon in turn, we could stop the gods of Chaos in their tracks.”

  Simon's imagination took off at the thought of a group of wizards, mages, witches, whatever, taking on the dragons together. It was almost intoxicating.

  “Calm yourself, my dear wizard,” Aeris said dryly. “You forget that all those possible spell-casters are probably under attack at this very moment just the way that you were. It is quite likely that, unlike you, they weren't successful in fending off the violence. There may be few if any allies out there now.”

  “You really are a negative Nelly, aren't you?” Simon said as he leaned back and turned to stare at the air elemental.

  “Negative Nelly? That's a new one.” Aeris said with a snort. “And it's not negativity. It's common sense. If you are bound and determined to pursue this foolish course of action, at least do so with a realistic attitude.”

  Simon stared at Aeris for a very long moment, and the elemental squirmed a bit but held his gaze.

  Finally the wizard couldn't help himself. He threw back his head and burst out laughing. He laughed until tears rose in his eyes and just as he calmed down, he saw Aeris' expression and started to laugh again.

  When he at last ran out of breath and was holding his stomach painfully, he watched as the air elemental looked at Kronk and rolled his eyes.

  “He's finally descended into madness,” he said. “It was inevitable, I suppose.”

  “Of course I have,” Simon said, still chuckling. “This entire situation is nuts. Haven't you realized that by now? Our chances of winning this thing are so impossible, you have to laugh.” He became sober-faced again. “Or cry. But what's the point of that?”

  Aeris' look of irritation was replaced with a reluctant smile.

  “All right, my dear wizard. I concede your point. I will be
cautiously optimistic and hope that my fellow elementals find at least some hopeful signs.”

  “Big of you,” Kronk said dismissively. “Master, you should get some sleep. You have had an exhausting day.”

  “Mother hen,” Aeris muttered.

  “I will,” the wizard said as he stood up slowly, a little light-headed. “But I have a chore to finish first.”

  He crossed the room, picked up Bene-Dunn-Gal and brought it back to the fire. He sat down and rolled the staff in his hands.

  “What chore, master?” Kronk asked, ignoring the weapon. He didn't like it and refused to look at it whenever possible.

  “I have to recast some spells on to Bene-Dunn-Gal. I've used a few over the last little while and I don't want to take a chance of running out.”

  He rested the staff on his knees and looked at his palm thoughtfully. There were multiple dimples in the flesh where Bene-Dunn-Gal had taken its payment of blood. Simon supposed that if he wanted to, he could count them to see how many spells he'd used since acquiring the staff.

  He shrugged indifferently. What did it matter? He needed its power and that was the price he had to pay.

  Kronk hopped off of the chair.

  “I will join the others on the wall, master. Try not to over-do it with that...thing.”

  “No problem, my friend,” Simon told him as he ran his hands along the staff. “Have a good night.”

  “I'll join him,” Aeris said and rose up to float across the room to the door. “He has a point, my dear wizard. Don't depend on that relic too much. If you do and it is lost, you might be as well.”

  With those grim words, the air elemental left the tower, closing the door behind him.

  Simon grasped Bene-Dunn-Gal in both hands.

  “Guess what?” he said to it. “My friends don't trust you.”

  The staff shuddered and made a low sound, like a growl.

  The wizard stared at it suspiciously.

  “Neither do I,” he whispered and began chanting.

  Chapter 23

  The week passed and early summer began to make its presence known. The weather became unseasonably hot and Simon wore shorts all the time. Even his lightest robes were too heavy in the oppressive heat.

  The first crop of tomatoes, growing unbelievably fast, was ready for picking and he and Kronk spent part of a day harvesting them while Aeris watched without offering to help.

  Simon got a little payback when he made the air elemental take a bag of tomatoes to Clara in Nottinghill. Kronk thankfully waited until the grumbling Aeris disappeared before laughing out loud.

  The following day, Simon spent most of his time lurking indoors. He had stupidly picked the tomatoes the previous day while wearing only his shorts and had gotten a pair of seriously sunburned shoulders for his trouble. Every move was painful and Aeris actually left the tower rather than face the wizard's foul mood.

  Simon was sitting hunched over painfully at his desk in the study, reading the spell-book that had been given to him by the old gods, when the air elemental popped into view above his notes. He had been gone all day.

  “And where have you been hiding?” Simon growled, not really interested. His skin felt tight and seemed red-hot. Every movement was followed by a stab of pain.

  “Still in a lovely mood, I see,” Aeris said. He was holding a small canvas bag and the wizard looked at it with some curiosity.

  “Since I don't want to deal with you when you're this grumpy, I went to visit Clara. In exchange for those tomatoes yesterday, she offered you this.”

  He extended the bag to Simon, who took it slowly, gasping as he stretched his arm forward.

  “What is it?” he asked as he peered into the bag.

  “A plant. The cleric calls it aloe. She claims that it will help to relieve the pain of your sunburn and help to heal it.”

  Simon gaped at him and then smiled widely.

  “That's wonderful! Aloe is exactly what I need.”

  For a moment, Simon was almost tempted to hug the elemental, until he remembered that he could barely touch Aeris because of his gaseous nature and that the little guy probably wouldn't appreciate it anyway.

  “Thank you,” he said instead, putting as much appreciation into his voice as he could.

  Aeris looked a little taken aback.

  “Um, you're welcome, my dear wizard,” he said gruffly. “Your thanks should go to the cleric. I simply wanted a way to improve your foul mood.”

  “Yeah, I am a bit cranky when I'm sore, that's true.”

  He stood up, slowly, and took the bag with him.

  “Let's go downstairs. I have to cut open the leaves and squeeze out the sap. Then I can rub it on my shoulders.”

  After applying the relieving sap from the aloe leaves, Simon was able to relax somewhat. He and Aeris got into a deep discussion about the nature of elementals and their place in the universe. It was one of the most enthralling conversations he had ever had with the, sometimes truculent, little guy.

  By the time Kronk had come in from planting the new crop of tomatoes, Simon was pain-free enough to make some dinner. The three spent a congenial evening around the fire and, for the first time in a long time, the wizard felt almost at peace as he went off to bed.

  Simon spoke to Clara the next morning, thanked her profusely for the aloe and learned that Ironhand had left at the break of day. One of the dwarven digging machines had appeared outside the gates of Nottinghill and he had bid them farewell and left to journey to his people's capital city.

  “How the heck did they even know he was with you?” Simon asked the cleric, who just shook her head with a smile.

  “As Shandon said, his people have their ways. All I know is that a band of armored dwarves showed up and shouted at us until we lowered the drawbridge and allowed them to enter. Then they had a quick conversation with Ironhand in that unintelligible language of theirs and they all left together. Oh and he wanted me to thank you yet again for your aid. He said to keep that token that he gave you close. He didn't say why.”

  Simon rubbed his chest.

  “No need. I put it on the same string around my neck as the dragon crystal I wear. Funny that he wants me to keep it nearby though.”

  “Dwarves are known for their brevity. They rarely say more than they need to and he didn't explain. Now, please take my advice and stay out of the sun for a few days. Use the aloe as much as you need to and, if you run out, send Aeris down for more. We have plenty to spare and it's a fair trade for those lovely tomatoes you sent us.”

  “Thanks, I will.” He smiled at the mirror ruefully. “Back in my old body, I could tan almost black and never feel it. I keep forgetting that the new me is so delicate.”

  Clara giggled. It made her sound very young.

  “Well, let the sting on the sunburn remind you. Thanks for calling. I have some of my people waiting for me; a meeting about crop distribution,” she added with an eye-roll.

  “You're welcome,” Simon told her as he chuckled at her expression. “Talk to you soon.”

  He canceled the spell and put down the mirror. He was just getting up to make a second cup of tea when the front door burst open and Aeris flew in, followed closely by Kronk, who tripped on the way into the room, got up and hurriedly tip-tapped over to the table.

  “Hey guys,” the wizard said as he watched them. The pair got up on the table and waited side by side. The little earthen was holding what looked like a folded sheet of paper.

  “Morning, master,” Kronk said quickly.

  “Good morning, my dear wizard,” Aeris said with a nod. “We found something.”

  Simon sat down, forgetting about the tea, and nodded at the paper.

  “What is it?”

  Kronk handed the sheet to him and the wizard examined it closely.

  It was made of parchment, similar to a note that the elves had left him before, and sealed with a drop of wax.

  “This was attached to the front gate. We only just found it, mas
ter.”

  “It must be from Ethmira,” he said to them as he snapped the seal in half. “I'm guessing no one saw her?”

  “None of us,” Aeris said with some disgust. “I know that they can come and go like the wind, and I respect that, but it's unnerving how they can elude elementals and your wards at the same time.”

  Simon smiled and unfolded the note.

  “Don't sweat it,” he told them absently as he scanned the parchment. “It's just a natural talent, I suppose.”

  He read the script on the paper and his smile changed to a frown of confusion.

  Kronk looked from Simon to the parchment and back again.

  “What does it say, master? Is there a problem?”

  The wizard put down the note, rested his elbows on the table and his chin on his hands.

  “Problem? No, I don't think so. But the last time Ethmira left a note, she was a little more...personal than she is in this one.”

  “Was she?” Aeris looked at the parchment and Simon motioned for him to read it.

  Both of the elementals hunched down over the note and the wizard looked past them toward the window as Aeris read out loud.

  “Sir Wizard: It has come to our attention that the herb witch known as Heather has information regarding green dragons. As these

  types of dragons are jungle-dwellers, we assume that her talent with plants has somehow allowed her to gain some knowledge in this

  area. Irregardless, if you wish to learn more, we would suggest visiting the witch and discussing this subject with her. Sincerely, your

  friends, the elves.”

  He looked at Simon.

  “I see what you mean. Sounds a bit, um, impersonal, doesn't it?”

  Picking up the note again, Simon nodded and read through it again.

  “Exactly. They don't even mention my name, or Ethmira's. It reminds me of form letters I'd receive back in the old days. Weird.”

  “Not really, master,” Kronk said. “The letter is probably not from the lady elf. As she has told you, her elders watch world events closely from their realm. This is probably their doing. Sir wizard is a title of respect from the days of magic. They would probably consider it rude to use your name. After all, Ethmira is your friend. They are not.”