Tales from the New Earth: Volume One

by Thompson, J. J.

  “They're undead, aren't they?” he asked Kronk, who took a moment to roll in the snow and clean the blood and slime off of his body.

  “They are, master. That is one reason they are only seen during winter storms; they are vulnerable to sunlight.”

  Simon watched as the other earthen followed Kronk's lead and cleaned themselves up.

  “Well, we can't leave the bodies here. Can I get you guys to drag them out into the field?”

  “Of course, master,” the little earthen said quickly.

  The six elementals easily gathered the corpses together and pulled them through the gates to the wind-blown clearing beyond.

  “Not too far,” Simon called out. “Just pile them together. If they're undead, I want to make sure they won't somehow reanimate and attack again.”

  Kronk dragged the last body on to the hideous pile and stepped back.

  “How, master?” he asked.

  Simon chanted a familiar spell and pointed at the bodies.

  “Fire, of course,” he said simply. “Invectis.”

  A ball of flame streaked down out of the storm and slammed into the remains, instantly igniting them and turning the entire mass into a bonfire.

  “That should do it,” the wizard told the watching earthen.

  They stared at the burning bodies for a moment and then Aeris flew through the gates to join them.

  “There's no sign of any others. There were scratches on the door of the stable, but they didn't get through it. Must have preferred going after you, my dear wizard.”

  “The horses are safe?” Kronk asked anxiously.

  “They're fine,” Aeris told him. “Chief was standing just inside the door. I doubt any wight would have gotten past those horns of his.”

  “I must check on them,” Kronk said, obviously worried and would have hurried off if Simon hadn't stopped him.

  “Check on them later, my friend,” he said and motioned for the group to follow him.

  Once they were back inside the wall, the wizard turned and looked at the six earthen.

  “Okay,” he said, yelling a bit over the howling wind. “I know we've just been through a battle, and frankly I think I might still be in shock, but I have to know something.”

  He looked from one elemental to the next. All of them were listening closely.

  “Why were the gates open before the attack?” he asked in a level tone, trying not to sound accusatory.

  Kronk looked at his fellow earthen.

  “Yes, I would like to know that as well.”

  The remaining earth elementals looked at each other and then one stepped forward, looking a bit sheepish.

  “I saw the storm coming, sir wizard,” he said reluctantly. “And I wanted to make sure that both halves of the gate were in perfect working order before it hit.”

  “I see,” Simon said. “Mittas, isn't it?”

  “Yes, sir wizard,” Mittas said with a bow.

  “So you were just trying to be helpful. I understand that. But the standing order was not to open the gates under any circumstances unless you asked permission first. Did you ask Kronk or Aeris before you did that?”

  “He said nothing to me,” Aeris growled as he hovered by the wizard's right shoulder.

  “Nor to me,” Kronk added. He stepped toward Mittas. “You took the initiative to help our master, yes?”

  The earthen nodded eagerly.

  “Yes, I did. Nothing is more important than a master's safety! I only wanted to ensure that the gate was strong enough to face the coming storm.”

  Simon sighed and dropped his head. He looked down at his body, the white diamond coating reflecting the gray light around him.

  “Okay, Mittas. You made a mistake today. Do you see that?”

  The earth elemental hesitated and then nodded.

  “I see it, sir wizard. I should have asked for permission to open the gates. It will not happen again.”

  “It shouldn't have happened at all!” Aeris hissed at him and the little figure stepped back in surprise.

  “Easy, Aeris,” Simon told him. “None of us is perfect.”

  He looked at the entire group.

  “But this can't happen again, do you all understand? This world is just too damned dangerous for such mistakes. None of you is a servant and each of you can leave at any time. But if you stay here, you must do as you are told or you are of no use to me. No one opens the gates in the future unless it is approved by either myself, Kronk or Aeris. Right?”

  They all hurriedly nodded, Mittas' head bobbing so quickly it was almost a blur.

  “Good. Now please close the gates and seal them.”

  Simon watched as this was done and smiled grimly at them.

  “Okay, that was the easy part. Now I need your expert opinions on what to do with the tower.”

  “The tower, master?” Kronk asked, puzzled. He looked up at the shadow of the building, barely visible in the blowing storm. There was a buildup of snow on his head and he looked like he was wearing a white beanie.

  “What is wrong with the tower?”

  “Come with me and see,” Simon told him and he led the way to the front door, the snow and wind still screaming past them.

  When they walked into the main room, the wizard felt a rush of sadness.

  The winds had blown away all evidence of the immolated wights, but the room itself looked like a bombed-out wreck.

  Long icicles hung from the scorched ceiling. The floor was partially covered with snow and had been blackened by his Fire Blast spell. His furniture; the sofa, his kitchen table and chairs, his easy chair in front of the fire, even his clothes cabinet near the door, all had been reduced to heaps of barely-recognizable charred wood and fabric.

  “Damn it,” he muttered as he surveyed the damage. “Gone. All of it, just gone.”

  “Oh my, master,” Kronk said as he looked around. “We heard the explosion when you cast whatever spell did this, but we assumed the worst and thought you had perished. I never thought about what kind of damage that spell would cause.”

  “Me neither,” Simon replied. “But it was either this or death. I chose this.”

  “And rightfully so,” Aeris averred. “This can all be rebuilt or replaced. You cannot.”

  He shot across the room and examined the kitchen cupboards, the fireplace and the cast-iron stove.

  “The good news,” he said loudly, “is that all of your food and dishes are okay. The outside of the cupboards will have to be replaced, but the contents are fine.”

  “Well, that's something.” Simon said as he carefully walked across the room. The kitchen counter was scorched as well but the pump still worked next to the sink, so that was a relief.

  “Kronk,” he said, turning to look at the earthen and his friends. “Can you tell if this floor and the ceiling are sound? Am I going to fall through to the basement or have the tower collapse on top of me?”

  “We will check, master,” the earthen assured him. He spoke to the others in the deep guttural language of the earth elementals and three of them hurried up the blackened staircase to the second floor, while Kronk and the other two walked around the room, running their hands along the floor every two or three feet.

  “You're going to have to dig out some new winter clothing from stores,” Aeris said as he nodded at what was left of the clothes cabinet.

  “True enough,” Simon agreed, feeling tired and depressed. “New boots and gloves and all of that. Luckily I have spares. Ah well, I needed to freshen up my wardrobe anyway,” he added, trying to sound more cheerful.

  “That is the right attitude, my dear wizard,” the air elemental said approvingly. “All of this can be fixed. You are safe and the tower is secure once more. Considering that hordes of wights wiped out countless towns and villages back in the old days, I'd say you got off lightly.”

  Simon held on to that thought. Aeris was right, of course. He'd been caught flat-footed and off-guard and had managed to survive basically
intact. It was a lesson for him to never get too complacent.

  Suddenly he looked at the elemental with dawning horror.

  “What is it?” Aeris asked as he saw Simon's expression. “What's wrong?”

  “You said that the wights used to wipe out towns and villages,” the wizard said in a strangled voice.

  The two of them locked eyes.

  “Nottinghill!” they said at the same time.

  Simon turned and raced up the slippery, icy stairs with Aeris zipping along behind him.

  He ran into his study, lit all of the candles in the darkened room with a thought and canceled his Diamond Skin spell. He slipped off his staff and leaned it against the desk. Then he snatched up the hand mirror and rattled off the Magic Mirror spell.

  “Clara!” he said loudly into the mirror, Aeris floating next to him. “Clara, can you hear me?”

  “Simon? Hello again. You were right about the storm. Luckily we got everyone indoors before it hit.”

  The wizard sagged with relief. The cleric sounded normal and calm. He'd been terrified that somehow the wights had gotten into the town.

  She appeared in the mirror's surface, standing at a window in her quarters and gazing out at the violent storm just beyond the glass.

  “Clara, listen. I need to warn you about something.”

  “Warn us? About something other than this blasted storm?”

  “Exactly. Let me tell you what just happened.”

  Simon proceeded to explain about the attack on the tower. Clara gasped once or twice but didn't interrupt his story. As he spoke, the cleric moved through her rooms and picked up her own mirror so that she could look back at the wizard. Then she went into her living room and sat down on her sofa.

  “So you're saying that this was a common occurrence back in the old days of magic?” she asked when he was finished speaking.

  Simon glanced at Aeris, who moved into view and nodded at her.

  “Yes, lady, it was. Well, perhaps common is not the proper term. But most settlements knew that when particularly violent winter weather was approaching, that wights or other undead might be following in its wake.”

  “Wow. The things we don't know about this New Earth of ours could fill a library,” Clara muttered. “But you're okay, Simon?”

  “I'm fine, thanks. I'm more worried about you and the town. If I may make a suggestion, tell Malcolm and Aiden to man the walls near the gates and keep an eye out for anything peculiar.”

  “You mean like hordes of undead?” she asked dryly.

  The wizard grinned.

  “Yeah, something like that. Your walls are warded and, as long as the gates remain closed, you should be fine. But as I just saw a little while ago, one mistake can make all of our protections worthless.”

  “Yes, I can see that.”

  The cleric looked across the room at the blustery weather through her window and shivered.

  “I hate the cold,” she said. “Strange. I used to love winter. Skiing, Christmas, Jack Frost nipping at your nose and all that stuff. Now though, I just find it all so depressing.”

  “I'm with you there,” Simon said.

  “But I'll get wrapped up and hunt down our two friends. They'll organize the guards and we'll be extra vigilant while this blizzard lasts.”

  Her lips twitched in an almost-smile.

  “They're going to freeze their asses off though, and then all I'll hear is whining.”

  The wizard chuckled sympathetically and Clara shrugged.

  “It's all in good fun, though. Malcolm and Aiden love their drama, but their dedication to the town and our safety is immense.”

  “I know it is.”

  One of the earthen wandered into the study and stood by the door, obviously waiting to speak.

  Simon glanced at him and nodded.

  “Clara, I have to go. Stay safe and use the lodestone if you need me, all right? I can be there in no time if necessary.”

  “I appreciate that, my friend, but I'm sure we'll be fine. Good luck with your repairs.”

  “Thanks.”

  He canceled the spell and nodded at the earthen again.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Sir wizard, we have finished our assessment up here,” he said. “The floors are basically undamaged. We will have to grind off a layer of singed wood on the ceiling over your main room below, but that is all. Kronk and the others are in the basement now, wrapping up their own survey of the damage.”

  “Thanks. Go ahead and join them. I'll be down in a minute.”

  The little figure bowed and left the room.

  “So far, not so bad,” Aeris commented as he moved to hover in the middle of the desk.

  “Yeah, true. It could have been so much worse. Listen, do me a favor, would you? While the earthen are in here checking things out, could you patrol the outer wall? I'll admit I'm a bit spooked by all of this.”

  For a change, the air elemental didn't make a sarcastic comment. He simply nodded seriously.

  “Of course. I should have thought of that myself. The wards are holding, but better safe than sorry.”

  “Thanks, Aeris,” Simon told him and the elemental disappeared with a muted pop of air.

  The wizard stared at the shuttered window for a long moment and sighed.

  And just think, Simon, he said to himself. Only four more months of winter.

  Chapter 4

  The storm would last for a week, just as Aeris had predicted. If it hadn't been for the need to bring in wood from the forest to repair the damage in his tower, Simon would have left the gates closed and sealed until the blizzard had blown over.

  Unfortunately, Kronk needed that wood to replace sections of the floor on the main level, as well as to construct new furniture, so the wizard reluctantly agreed.

  He went down to the basement and into storage to get a new winter coat, gloves and boots and then stood just inside the gates, staff in hand, while the earthen hurried out into the storm to retrieve the wood.

  Fortunately there were no signs of any wights and the group of elementals returned in an hour with piles of freshly-cut wooden planks.

  Simon closed and locked the gates and asked Aeris to keep patrolling the wall until the others had finished their repairs. Then he went back inside and was told politely but firmly by Kronk to stay upstairs while they worked on the new floor.

  After a show of grumbling, the wizard headed up to his study and sat down at his desk to read, trying to pass the time.

  Unfortunately, while Kronk and his brethren were efficient, they weren't particularly quiet, and the banging, the sound of boards being ripped out and the occasional loud argument in the deep language of the earthen kept Simon from concentrating and finally, in exasperation, he tossed his book aside and picked up his hand mirror instead.

  It had been about two days since he'd last spoken to Daniel, more or less, and he decided that now was as good a time as any to see if his friend had any news.

  The Magic Mirror spell connected quickly and Simon felt a rush of relief to see that his oldest friend was okay and even seemed more rested than he had been in their last conversation.

  “Ah, Simon. There you are.”

  “Here I am. How are you doing?”

  Daniel was sitting in a room with dark wooden walls and candles glowing on the table in front of him. There was a tall glass with amber liquid in it in his hand and he took a sip before answering.

  “I'm doing well, all things considered. You?”

  “Well, except for fighting off a wave of wights, I'm good, thanks.”

  Daniel sat up with a jerk, some liquid sloshing over his hand.

  “What? You were attacked?”

  “Well, not me personally,” Simon told him with a small shrug. “The tower was, actually. I just got in the way.”

  His friend frowned at his light tone, moved his glass over a bit and stared into its reflective surface. His face filled the mirror and the wizard was suddenly staring
at Daniel directly.

  “Tell me what happened,” he said tersely.

  Simon proceeded to tell his friend what had happened earlier. Occasionally he had to raise his voice as loud hammering and the squeal of nails being pulled out of the floor echoed through the tower.

  Apparently his face reflected his irritation and Daniel's dark look was replaced by one of amusement every time this took place.

  When he finished, Simon relaxed and leaned back in his chair, watching his friend quizzically.

  “So what do you think?”

  Daniel took his time before answering, gazing pensively away from the surface of the liquid.

  “What I think is that the Earth is becoming more of a copy of the old world of magic by the day. In doing my research, I found that these sorts of events were, if not common, then certainly not unknown. Cities and towns were warded and locked up tight during winter storms. Wizards were actually highly prized and sought after to help protect these habitations.”

  He smiled through the mirror.

  “I've read that cities would compete with each other to attract the services of magic-users. Wizards, being a rare breed, were treated like royalty and offered extravagant quarters and many perks to move to this city or that.”

  Simon had to shake his head in wonder.

  “What a strange world we've inherited.”

  There was a loud bang just under his feet and the floor shook violently. Simon looked toward the doorway.

  “What's going on down there?” he shouted irritably.

  “Nothing, master,” Kronk's voice called up.

  He rolled his eyes and Daniel laughed.

  “Repairs?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I made a real mess of the main floor during the attack, but nothing that can't be fixed. My little friends are efficient, but I suppose ripping out old boards and building new furniture can be quite a loud process.”

  “You're lucky to have them,” Daniel chided him gently.