“Where are you taking us!” Caressa yelled over the wind.
“See that chain of islands over there?”
“Yeah, I see them. You think there’s any pirate treasure?”
“Let’s find out,” said Murland. Her question made him think of McArgh, and he glanced back over his shoulder, seeing the ship miles away to the east. For a fleeting moment, he thought to go and tell them where he was headed, but that would kill the romance of the moment. Besides, the islands looked deserted. Surely it would be no problem to enjoy a nice lunch on a sunny beach.
What trouble could possibly come of it?
Murland excitedly steered Packy to circle the closest and largest of the three islands, just to scope it out and make sure they weren’t stumbling on a village of cannibalistic islanders. He found white, sandy beaches backed up to grassy dunes, which gave way to sparse forests of drooping palm trees and smaller shrubbery that he had never seen. There was no indication of any kind of settlement, so he brought them down on the eastern shore, on a long stretching expanse of beach.
Caressa unstrapped herself hurriedly, and Murland thought that she must be excited to explore the island, but when she finally extracted herself from the harness, she twirled around and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him like he had never been kissed before. She even used her tongue, which Murland found to be so strange, so new, so overwhelmingly erotic that he became self-conscious about his body pressing up against hers. He hoped that she thought it was indeed his wand that was pressing so rudely against her stomach.
When they parted, there was something in her eyes—a silent knowing, a mischievous hint that she liked it, wand or not. He tried to speak but coughed, and she laughed musically before taking his hand.
“Come on! Let’s explore,” she sang, hair billowing in the warm ocean breeze.
Murland was so mesmerized by her beauty, energy, and lust for life that he might have dumbly followed her into the pit of a volcano at that moment—and he would have died a happy man.
She ran across the sand, laughing, and discarded her boots, jacket, scarf, and hat. She climbed the dune barefoot, in her mock pirate trousers and frilly blouse. Murland followed her perky little rump up the dunes, but then felt guilty about such gawking and tried not to stare. He tried to take in his surroundings, but even the island, with its glorious warmth, timeless, bent palms, and marvelous flowers could not compete with the masterpiece that was Princess Caressa. They had been friends since they were children, and he had always found her beautiful, but now, he felt as though a spell had been cast over him, one that could not be broken even with Kazimir’s magic. It made him afraid, exhilarated, nauseated, nervous, and giddy all at the same time, and Murland wondered if perhaps he was going crazy, for surely a woman should not and could not have such an effect on a man. But have an effect she did, and Murland followed behind happily, stripping himself of the cumbersome clothing, even his robes, until he was wearing only his soft cotton underpants and night shirt.
They ran in the noonday sun, oblivious to danger, blind to the troubles of the world. The last thing on their mind was questing, or impossibly large dragons that wanted to ravage the land, or potentially pissed-off wizards. Here, now, in this moment, all that mattered was joy.
Caressa laughed. She screamed. She spun circles in the sun, stopping only when she was overcome with dizziness, and she plopped down on the top of a dune before the forest of palm. Murland dropped down beside her, panting, and they laughed for no good reason.
When the moment passed, Murland sat up and regarded his beloved, and a sadness overcame him. For what dream was he living in, where he thought that she might be his? She must have noticed his moment of forlorn clarity, for her smile disappeared and she put a hand on his.
“What is it?”
Murland tried to smile, but he knew that she would see through it. He became choked up then and realized that he couldn’t have answered her if he wanted to.
But then she surprised him.
“I love you, Murland Kadabra. Do you know that?”
He was awestruck, dumbfounded…he knew that he should say something memorable, something poetic, but the only words that came to his mouth were those of simple truth.
“I have always loved you, Caressa. From the moment I saw you in the atrium in the castle, I loved you. I—”
She shut him up with a kiss, and he was glad for it, for he could have gone on for days confessing his love. Her tongue again found his, and this time he reciprocated, twirling it around the way he thought he should, even biting her lip subtly, which was rewarded with a playful laugh, one that also offered a small challenge. Her hands went to his cottons, testing the elasticity, and he realized nervously what she was after.
Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. He was panting, she was panting, everything began to happen so fast; his shirt flew off, her blouse lost five buttons, his cottons found his ankles, hers somehow disappeared—for one moment they were there, a thin veil of fabric separating him from the forbidden, and in the next moment, she was straddling him.
“Caressa,” he said, knowing in the back of his mind that this was wrong.
Again, she silenced him with a kiss, and with her hand she pulled.
A gasp escaped him, and all that he wanted in that moment was to feel her warmth, to be one…
“Caressa, wait.”
She ignored his feeble pleas, grabbing two handfuls of his hair and smothering him with her bare bosom. He had more to say, but he found it impossible to compose his thoughts. Her back arched, and he felt her maneuver him to the brink of her most guarded treasure.
“Wait!” he managed to blurt, and he cursed himself his morality. “We can’t, you can’t.”
She rescinded from the brink, panting, and pulled her hair back over her shoulder, cheeks flushed, lips full, and eyes that wanted one thing.
“Murland, my beloved wizard, please do shut up.”
“We cannot do this…we are not wed…you are a princess…I’m just—”
“My choice. That is what you are,” she said, holding him in her feral gaze. “I am a princess, so what? If my flower is so precious, then why is it given to one who does not love me, one who is chosen by my father, one whom I must bear the children of because men of power say so? If I must lay with a man I do not love for the rest of my life, then I would lay first with the man I do. And that is you, Murland Kadabra. Now please, won’t you use that mouth for something else?”
“If you are sure…” he said, and his conscience could see no folly in that logic.
She reached down and peeled off her blouse, gyrated her hips just right, and gasped, “I’m sure.”
Chapter 11
Escape Artist
“He has nearly figured it out,” said High Wizard Fracco.
“Indeed,” said Hinckley, staring at the crystal ball, which offered a view inside of the Rubic’s Triangle. “And in less than a week, like he predicted.”
“You sound like you admire him.”
“What? Admire? No, of course not. It is just…what wizard has not striven to achieve such power?”
“Yes, but at what cost?”
“What cost indeed…”
For many silent moments, they watched as the spell around the Most High Wizard began to fracture and fizzle.
“He should be distracted enough by now,” said Hinckley, waving his good hand over the crystal ball to clear it. “Let us try one more time to locate young Murland.”
“It is time,” Fracco told the other two high wizards, twin brothers named Harris and Ferris, who had been preparing the ingredients for the incantation.
The hooded twin wizards, both very proficient in the study of remote viewing, joined Hinckley and Fracco around the crystal ball, and together the four tried once more to break through the masking incantations that Kazimir had put on Murland.
Harris and Ferris reached out with their astral sight, which took them north, and through the crystal ball
Hinckley and Fracco watched with growing anticipation.
“There,” said Harris.
“I see it,” said Hinckley, and he quickly went to work unraveling the masking ward.
“There is another,” said Ferris.
“Got it,” Fracco told them as he too began to unravel the incantation.
An hour and fifty unraveled spells later, the crystal ball finally zoomed in on Murland.
“Is that Princess Caressa?” Fracco asked, putting on his spectacles to get a better look. “And are they…”
“It appears that we have caught Murland at a…bad time,” said Hinckley. “Nevertheless, we have found him.” He waved his hand over the crystal ball, causing the view to zoom out.
“I know those islands,” said Fracco. “They are just south of the Eternal Ice, a hundred miles or so north of the Northern Barrens.”
“Yes, I am familiar with them as well,” said Hinckley, pulling his water pipe out from beneath his robes. “Do you mind?” he asked Fracco, indicating his bandaged stump. Spells had been laid upon it, ones that would help it to grow back, but it would take many months to do so.
“Of course,” said Fracco. He lit the bowl with a small fire from his thumb as Hinckley breathed deeply. “Should I accompany you?”
“No,” said Hinckley, holding his breath. He blew out the multi-colored smoke and waved it out of his face. “You need to remain here and buy me some time, for Kazimir could break out at any minute. Get the others ready. I have a feeling that he is going to be pissed.”
“Yes, Headmaster,” said Fracco.
Hinckley offered him a nod and opened a portal with his wand. Before stepping through, he regarded his friend once more. “Fracco.”
“Yes?”
“Good luck.”
“Magic be with you.”
“And with you,” said Hinckley before stepping through the shimmering, elliptical-shaped portal. Plaid sped by as he became weightless and broke into a million pieces, and he prayed to the gods that he had enough time.
***
Murland lay on his back panting while Caressa rested on top of him, trying to catch her breath as well. They lay under the sun, skin slick with sweat and cheeks flush with the heat of love.
“That was…” he said breathlessly. “That was amazing.”
He expected Caressa to agree, and when she only lay there, he began to feel self-conscious. But before he could wonder about his performance, there came a sudden whoosh.
Caressa gave a cry and rolled off Murland, covering herself with her clothes.
“Kazimir?” said Murland, hurrying to pull up his britches.
“Lucky for you, no,” came a voice that he recognized.
He blocked the sun with his hand and barely made out the headmaster.
“Hinck—Headmaster Hinckley! What are you doing here?”
“I might ask you the same thing,” said the old wizard, eyeing Caressa and Murland disapprovingly. “But there is no time to speak of your indiscretions. You must come with me, for you are in grave danger.”
“What do you mean? Danger from who? And what happened to your hand?”
“Murland,” said Hinckley, putting an arm around him and turning away from the princess so that she might dress in privacy. “I am sorry to tell you this, but the quest, the prophecy, it is all a—”
“It is a lie. I know.”
“You do?” said Hinckley, looking confused.
“Yes. The princess and others tracked us down to warn us.”
“Then you know the fate that awaits you all.”
“We do.”
Hinckley looked east at the Iron Fist, which had gotten much closer while Murland was distracted. “If you all know this, why are you still headed west?”
“There are eleven of us now, and we intend to defeat the dragon. For real.”
“You intend to…well that is just plain…you must know that it is impossible.”
“What options do we have? If she is not fed, she will set the world aflame. We have to try.”
“No, my dear boy. You cannot continue this quest. You must come with me. I have seen you mend the wand, and I believe now, as Zorromon did, that you are the chosen one. You must defeat Zuul, for he has risen again.”
“I’m not abandoning the others.”
“What? Are you mad? They are fools. I will wipe their minds of the knowledge of the lie, and they will do what they are meant to do.”
“No, you won’t,” said Murland, squaring on the headmaster.
“Don’t be a fool.”
“What’s going on here?” said Caressa, shouldering past Murland. “Did I hear you right? You want to let them die? You are no better than Kazimir, no better than my father. You are all a bunch of bastards!”
“That may be true,” said Hinckley with practiced patience. “Kazimir is a bastard, and many other things, but to his credit, he has kept Fallacetine safe from the threat that is Drak’Noir, and this is how he has done it.”
“And you expect me to let some unwitting fool die in my place?” said Murland. “No way. This ends now.”
Hinckley let out a laugh and eyed Murland skeptically. “You are serious, aren’t you? My dear, fool boy, you still do not understand. Zuul must be dealt with.”
“Then deal with him yourself!”
Hinckley was taken aback by Murland’s outburst. Even Caressa looked to him sidelong with a surprised grin.
“First, you all send me on a suicide quest to be food for a dragon. Now you want me to abandon my friends and save your asses from the Dark Lord? Well, all due respect, Headmaster, but you can all go shag yourselves. Same goes for everyone else who knew about this farce!”
“Do not forget to whom you speak, young man,” Hinckley warned. His eyes had grown very dark indeed, and the power seeping from him made Murland’s short hairs stand on end.
“Do not forget to whom you speak!” Murland shot back. “You think I am the chosen one! Well then, what does that say of the power that I must possess?”
“You arrogant little shit!”
“Yeah, for the first time in my life, I guess I am. And why shouldn’t I be? It is I who has mended the wand of Kazam. I possess the spell book.”
“Enough!” Hinckley bellowed. “You are coming with me!” He reached for Murland, but the young wizard pulled his arm away violently. Before he knew it, the wand of Kazam was in his good hand, tip aiming at the ground.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said evenly.
“You would dare pull a wand on me?”
“You said it yourself. I am the chosen one. If that is true, then surely, I possess more power than you. Otherwise, you would be the one dealing with Zuul.”
Hinckley noticeably relaxed, and his face became kind. “Murland…”
“You’re wasting your breath.”
“Listen to me, young man. You are going down a dangerous path. I cannot imagine what it must feel like to possess such powerful relics at your age, and I commend you on not having been completely corrupted by such power already, but I beseech you, do not give in to your ego. For nothing good will come of it.”
“I will not abandon my friends. We intend to finish the quest, and neither you nor anyone else is going to stop us. If Zuul has not been dealt with once I am through, then I will indeed lend what help I can.”
“Murland…”
“We’re done here.”
Hinckley looked to have more to say, but his head suddenly cocked to the side and he looked to the south. At length, he let out a sigh. “I fear that you have made a terrible mistake. But I see that your mind cannot be changed. I will leave you to your foolhardy plan. But know this: I have kept Kazimir from you for these last few days, but he will soon escape, and I can do nothing to help you. I beg of you, for the sake of your friends, you must reconsider.”
Murland considered the warning, but before he could reply, Caressa waved the headmaster off. “We need no help from you,” she told him.
&nb
sp; He ignored her, staring at Murland, eyes pleading.
“You heard her. We’ve been on our own this long, and we’ve done just fine.”
Hinckley gave a sigh and nodded, even laughed. He turned and mumbled, “Godsdamned kids,” and whooshed himself away.
Murland stared at the place where the wizard had disappeared, watching the shimmering outline of residual magic.
“Murland, that was…what has gotten into you?” said Caressa, clearly turned on.
“I don’t know, but I hope I did the right thing.”
***
Kazimir sat at the center of the spinning triangle of magical energy, legs crossed, eyes closed, lids fluttering. His hundreds of independently thinking subconscious minds tore through geometric patterns, unraveled long and complicated lines of algebraic magical wards, and he did all this while he slept. He could see the triangle clearly in his dream state—and it was weakening. Soon it would break and he would be free, but then would come the inevitable attack by the many high wizards of Kazam University. He could feel them already trying feebly to strengthen Rubic’s Triangle, which he thought to be quite unfair indeed. It was hard enough to unravel the greatest of magical problems, let alone a bunch of halfwits meddling with the ever changing and evolving spell. As often as not they lent power to Kazimir in their attempt to thwart him.
I’m surrounded by idiots, he thought, and he laughed in his dream. They had no idea what was waiting for them once the Rubic’s Triangle was solved, for he had gained great power from studying Zuul, thrice yet as much power as he used to possess. There was no one in the world who could stop him, he knew it, and soon so too would the wizards of Kazam College.
Kazimir had been at it for three days and nights, and finally, he was getting close to the end. The spell tried to adapt fast enough to counter his unraveling, but he had already mentally hacked and altered one of its key wards, one that replicated incantations. Now, rather than working to keep Kazimir in, it was helping to get him out. One by one, the incantations began to unravel faster than they could multiply, and Kazimir felt victory at his fingertips. With one final attack that rocked the core of the Rubic’s Triangle, the spell exploded outward with a satisfying rumble, and the sounds of the world came rushing into the vacuum where Kazimir sat. The wind howled through the hole in Hinckley’s office where the spell had destroyed the wall, and the door had been blasted from its casing. Through the threshold came a dozen spells, likely cast by as many high wizards. Kazimir easily blocked or absorbed these with his staff as he stood. The face of High Wizard Fracco appeared in the doorway, and Kazimir smiled at him, gathering his power at his core and filling the staff, which began to glow with blinding green light.
The Legend of Drak'Noir Page 8