Rebecca was in a quandary. Should she pick it up? According to her pendant, it no longer contained magic. That meant it didn’t have cursed magic either. Conversely, if the dagger now belonged to her, it wouldn’t harm her, would it?
She had to find out. Rebecca took a deep breath and grasped the dagger’s handle. It quivered in her hand and she dropped it again. She examined her hand. No damage. Good. She picked it up again and felt the quivering but this time held onto it. It was definitely magical, judging by the quivering, but it didn’t harm her. She smiled in relief. It was now hers!
Having had enough of this room, Rebecca quickly stashed the dagger and light stone in her side pouch to join the new collection of old maps. With that accomplished, she hustled over to the narrow tunnel and exited the strange room forever. She would discover what magic the dagger was capable of later.
Chapter 8
It would take the better part of four days for Kazin and Della to reach the Tower of Hope. During the early part of their flight, they saw many caravans on the roads below them, each carrying goods to a different destination. The ordinary bustle of activity contrasted with the suffering being endured by the mages in the Tower of Sorcery to the north. Here, people were carrying on with their lives as though nothing was wrong, secure in the knowledge that they were being protected from danger by the mage guilds and the army. They didn’t know about the threat of poison that was afflicting the black mages at present. Kazin knew that once word of what had happened at the Tower of Sorcery leaked out, the people would become fearful and concerned for their lives. Their carefree way of life would be shattered.
Kazin’s thoughts changed when Della suddenly drew his attention and pointed down at a narrow side road off one of the more heavily traveled roads. A caravan consisting of three wagons was stopped and there appeared to be a number of people skirmishing on both sides of the first wagon. Kazin immediately changed course and rocketed toward the battle.
Suddenly, a number of grey-cloaked people emerged from the woods to the rear of the third wagon. They snuck around the wagons and joined the fray. Della could see them raising their staves and chanting some spells.
Before Kazin got halfway to the scene, the battle had ended. Landing a short distance ahead of the caravan, Kazin and Della watched as some grey mages shackled some rough looking characters who were standing in strange poses.
“They’re paralyzed!” exclaimed Della.
Kazin relaxed. “That’s right, Della.”
“But - what happened?” asked Della. “I don’t understand.”
“The grey mages are a policing force,” explained Kazin. “They use ‘paralyze’ and ‘slow’ spells to trap and arrest brigands and thieves who attack caravans and unsuspecting travelers. Then they take them to the nearest town to be given a trial by the town’s mayor and a jury represented by the people. Prisons are located in most of the larger communities, where guards are armed with weapons and magic. More serious offenders are imprisoned in a high security magical prison from which there is no escape. One such prison exists on Ten Star Reef.”
“But isn’t that the job of black mages?” asked Della.
Kazin shook his head. “There aren’t enough black mages available to cover all of the roads. Grey mages are invaluable helpers.”
“I see,” said Della. “With the mages in the Tower of Sorcery out of commission, the grey mages will really have their work cut out for them.”
“That’s right,” said Kazin. “Once thieves find out about the black mages, they’ll come out in full force. I hope the grey mages can handle the additional pressure when that time comes.”
The dragon remained at the scene to watch the grey mages round up the crooks while the caravan people prepared to continue their journey. When one of the grey mages waved at Kazin, he took to the air once again, sensing that all was well.
“The crooks are going to have to watch out for grey mages if they plan to stop caravans,” commented Della, brushing her hair aside as it blew in the breeze.
“That won’t be too easy,” said Kazin.
“What do you mean?” asked Della.
“Not all grey mages are obvious,” explained Kazin. “Many of them travel incognito.”
“That’s a good idea,” mused Della. After a while she sighed and said, “It’s a lot more peaceful among the elves.”
“Maybe,” admitted Kazin, “but there is crime among your people as well. Our house was broken into recently, remember?”
Della sighed again. “I know, Kazin. I know.”
The rest of the journey was uneventful as Kazin and Della sped off for the Tower of Hope. Their stops at various inns along the way were short, staying only to sleep for a few hours before continuing on to their objective.
Halfway through the fourth day, the Tower of Hope appeared on the horizon. The triangular, snowy white tower glistened brightly in the sun. The tower was aptly called the white tower. It was the center of white magic in the humans’ world. White magic was primarily used for healing, and white mages were more commonly called clerics. If someone needed healing, they went to see a cleric, and if the cleric was not strong enough to heal the ailment with their own magic, the injured or sick party would have to go to the Tower of Hope. There the clerics could join their power to increase healing speed and effectiveness.
Surrounding the tower were recessed battlements which enabled clerics to cast spells and archers to shoot at the attacking enemies. Tall towers at the corners made sure enemies near the wall were not safe from the defenders.
The tower itself was unique, consisting of six large, white triangles making up the main level. Three triangles somewhat smaller in size made up the next level, with a lone triangle balanced on top to create a third level. Light flowed into the tower from every angle, giving it a ‘lit up’ appearance. It was said that the light entering the tower assisted the clerics in their healing spells. At night, the star and moonlight were amplified, giving increased healing speed for those who recovered within the tower walls. At the peak of the tower, everyone could see the flag representing the clerics; a thin blue circle surrounding a white dot.
On this day, Kazin could clearly see both cavalry and infantry practicing their maneuvers in preparation for a potential battle. After the war that affected virtually all humans just over ten years ago, army recruitment had gone up considerably. New people were needed to replace the countless souls that were lost over a decade ago. Kazin was pleased to see the ranks swelling among General Larsen’s armies. General Larsen was employed by the clerics as a guardian for the Tower of Hope. As long as the tower existed, people could come there freely to be healed. No external disputes were recognized in the tower. The clerics would try to heal anyone who came to them, even if it was a person or creature with different allegiances. Even a lizardman could come there to be healed without repercussions, provided he came in peace. (Naturally, that never happened, much to the relief of the clerics, who hated the lizardmen as much as the lizardmen hated them.) However, if there was a war going on, those who fought against the tower were on their own. Clerics would heal their own first.
Kazin landed in the tower’s courtyard and Della disembarked. Then Kazin transformed into his human form amid gasps of astonishment from some of the new clerics-to-be who had never witnessed such an event before.
A cleric came out to greet the newcomers. She bowed slightly to Kazin and said, “Arch Mage Kazin. Welcome. You have been expected.” She turned and led Kazin and Della into the tower.
Entering one of the main level triangles, Kazin was taken aback by the strange statue to one side of the entrance. It was a statue of a balding, middle-aged man. His face portrayed an angry demeanor. He was dressed like a gardener, with coveralls and rubber boots. A cleric sat on the floor in front of the statue, chanting softly.
“What’s with the statue?” asked Kazin suddenly.
The cleric on the floor stopped chanting and looked up at Kazin. “He’s paralyzed.”
Kazin blinked in surprise. He had seen paralyzed people before, but this man looked just like a statue!
“How did it happen?” asked Della.
“A cyclops paralyzed him,” answered the cleric calmly.
“Can’t you un-paralyze him?” asked Della. “I thought that was an easy spell?”
The cleric shook her head. “The cyclops that did this is no ordinary cyclops. It - he’s - half human.”
Kazin and Della exchanged curious glances.
The cleric who had led the visitors inside cleared her throat and smiled. “High Cleric Malachi awaits.”
Kazin waved his arm sideways. “Proceed.”
The cleric led them to an inner corner of the triangle which contained several blue circles inset into the floor. The cleric, elf and mage each stood on one of the circles and were magically whisked to the second floor of the tower. A hand full of clerics sat on the floor of this level, chanting softly. Kazin knew from past experience that these clerics were chanting magic to speed recovery of all within the tower. Their concentration was deep and they were not to be disturbed.
The cleric led them past the chanting clerics to another set of circles where they were whisked to the top level. Several rooms lined the outer walls of this level, leaving only a small triangular inner chamber. Standing nearby was the high cleric.
“Ah, Kazin!” exclaimed High Cleric Malachi in delight. “It’s good to see you again!” He strode forward with his hand outstretched. His pure white robe flowed out behind him. “I’m happy to see you are well!”
“Malachi,” said Kazin, pumping the high cleric’s hand.
“And Della!” exclaimed Malachi, turning his attention to the elf. He embraced her with a warm hug. “You’re looking as radiant as ever!”
Della giggled. “It’s good to see you again, Malachi. I’m glad to see you’re still fit and healthy.”
Malachi chuckled and patted his stomach. “I’ve probably put on a few pounds since we talked last.”
“Nonsense!” grinned Della.
Malachi laughed heartily. “You’re the only one I know who can lie and make me feel good at the same time!”
Everyone laughed.
“Now,” began Malachi when the greetings were over, “we have some important things to discuss. Let’s go into my study, shall we?”
Kazin and Della followed the high cleric into his office and he closed the door behind them.
“Please, be seated,” said Malachi, beckoning to some chairs in front of his desk. He sat down behind the desk and looked seriously across at Kazin. “Arch Mage Fildamir gave me the latest rundown on the situation at the Tower of Sorcery. Ten more mages have died.”
Kazin groaned. “Then I take it you haven’t discovered a cure yet?”
Malachi shook his head. “No. But we have discovered two important things in the past few days. First of all, the disease is not contagious.”
“Then why are all the mages in the tower affected?” asked Della.
“That brings me to the next point,” continued Malachi. “Our clerics in the tower have discovered a suspicious bottle of spice in the tower’s kitchen. It looks exactly like one of the common spice containers used in food preparation. The spice inside looks and smells like the real thing, but my clerics were doing routine tests on the kitchen’s food when they discovered a magical signature around the bottle. When they applied it to some food scraps, they noticed the spice evaporate in a faint puff of smoke. It didn’t look right so they studied the contents further. The spice turned out to be something entirely different.”
“What was it?” asked Della.
“Poison,” responded Malachi.
“Poison!” exclaimed Kazin. “So the food at the banquet in the tower was poisoned!”
“That’s right,” said Malachi.
“Who could have done such a thing?” queried Della. “You would think the tower would be more careful with what they let inside.”
“They test all the food that enters the tower,” said Kazin.
“Then you think someone may have smuggled it in?” asked Malachi.
“I guess it’s possible,” said Kazin.
“But don’t intruders get sent to the dungeon?” asked Della. “At least, that’s what you told me before.”
Kazin nodded. “That’s correct. The only ones who could have done this foul deed are black mages or white mages who were invited.”
“Perhaps,” put in Malachi. “However, there is one more unusual detail that confuses matters.”
“Which is?” prodded Kazin.
“The magical spell on the spice bottle was not white, black, or grey magic as we know it. It was the magic used by lizardmages.”
“What?!” exclaimed both Kazin and Della in unison.
“How is that possible?” cried Kazin. “There’s no way a lizardmage could get by the tower’s defenses!”
“Apparently it must have happened,” said Malachi. “My clerics and the remaining black mages have investigated that possibility and it turns out that there was an uninvited guest prior to that night. The mages in the dungeon had received an alarm and did a check of the prison cells. According to them, no one was there and they documented it as a false alarm.”
“So whoever entered the tower set off the prison alarm and got out before the guards could discover them!” Kazin burst out.
“So it seems,” said Malachi.
“I wonder how the lizardmen managed to sneak around the tower without being detected,” commented Della.
“I wish I knew,” murmured Kazin.
“At least everyone outside the tower is safe,” added Della.
Malachi sighed. “I wish it were that simple.”
“What do you mean?” asked Della.
“I don’t mean to alarm you,” said Malachi, “but two days ago, some farmers who live north of here came to the Tower of Hope suffering from some sort of illness. They claimed that some of their livestock and poultry were becoming sick and dying as well. We believe it may be related to the sickness at the Tower of Sorcery.”
“Are you sure?” asked Della.
Malachi shrugged. “I can’t be certain at this time, but so far we have been unable to heal the farmers. If anything, they’ve gotten worse.”
“But I thought you said the disease at the Tower of Sorcery wasn’t contagious,” put in Kazin.
Malachi nodded. “It’s true. Anyone who entered the Tower of Sorcery since the outbreak has not been affected.”
“Then how come the farmers and their cattle got sick?” added Della.
“We believe that the same poison that affected the black mages is present to the north. By the sounds of it, the poison may be present in the water. All of the people who have come here with the symptoms live near the rivers and streams flowing from the mountains.”
“If that’s true,” said Kazin, “then it’s only a matter of time before all the water becomes contaminated. Everyone will be affected!”
“I’m afraid so,” said Malachi soberly. “The tower can’t heal those who are already affected. When this disease spreads, people will turn to us for help which we won’t be able to give. Moreover, if too many clerics fall ill before a cure is found, the chance of recovery will be hindered further.”
“How is the water on the grounds here at the tower?” asked Della. “If it becomes contaminated as well -.”
Malachi raised a hand to interrupt. “No. Our water is still clean. As you know, we use it constantly for healing purposes. The source of the water is deep within the earth. It is the cleanest water in the land. Its magical properties make it more immune to exterior impurities. We expect - and hope - that it will remain pure, even if the rivers and streams around us get contaminated.”
“I hope so,” murmured Della.
“Did you notify your people, Della?” asked Malachi, changing the subject.
“Yes,” responded the elf. “They have representatives en route as we speak to meet with y
ou and work with your clerics toward a cure for this disease.”
“Excellent,” said Malachi. “We can use all the help we can get.”
“Speaking of help,” put in Kazin, “what can I do?”
Malachi considered. “Well - other than finding out what you can about the conditions north and east of here, I can’t think of anything you can do to help at this time.”
“I’ll begin first thing in the morning,” said Kazin.
“Very well,” said Malachi, rising. “You can stay in one of the wards on the first level. We still have some room - for the time being.”
“Thanks,” said Kazin. He and Della got up. “Incidentally, I noticed a paralyzed man near the entrance. The cleric said he was paralyzed by a half-human, half-cyclops.”
Malachi grinned sheepishly. “That’s right. A number of years ago we took him in. His mother passed away and he was an orphan with nowhere to go. He was adept at tending our gardens of herbs, so we put him in the care of our head gardener. Apparently the gardener wasn’t a very pleasant man to work for, and the cyclops wasn’t very well treated. I guess they finally had a disagreement and Cyril - that’s the cyclops - finally lost his temper. The head gardener was paralyzed and Cyril ran off.” Malachi shook his head sadly. “That cyclops was always so mild-mannered. It must have been pretty serious for him to get so angry.”
“Did he paralyze people often?” Della asked.
“On occasion,” answered Malachi, “but always by accident.”
“How long does the ‘paralyze’ spell usually last?” questioned Kazin. “That cleric didn’t seem to be able to free the gardener.”
“That’s another mystery,” Malachi answered. “Normally, it takes only a few minutes to cancel the ‘paralyze’ spell, depending on the skill level of the clerics assigned to that task. This time, however, even our best clerics were unable to cancel the spell. I even tried myself, with no effect. I suspect that it had to do with the fact that Cyril was angry and had paralyzed the gardener deliberately.”
Cloak & Dagger: Book II of The Dragon Mage Trilogy Page 7