I can see some buds already, he thought with delight. I think it's going to be an early spring. Good. After last winter, it would be welcome.
He ran his fingers through his hair and took in a last breath. A faint smell of earth, and the sweetish scent of rotting leaves pinched his nose and he sighed with pleasure.
Who wouldn't be encouraged by the awakening of nature after a long winter's sleep?
He closed the window and went back to his desk. Time to lock that Gate spell into my memory forever, he thought. I won't be trapped again by my own stupidity.
Don't make promises you can't keep, a little voice of self-doubt whispered from deep inside of him, sounding a bit like Aeris.
Simon told it what to do with itself, sat down and opened his spell-book.
Chapter 5
Spring did indeed come early that year and Simon and the elementals, mostly Kronk, began to prepare the garden for planting.
They dug up the furrows, picked out the rocks that every year seemed to sneak into the dirt just where they wanted to plant seeds, and then waited for the days to warm and the earth to soften up enough to begin their planting in earnest.
Aeris did contribute one thing to the exercise. On his own, he traveled to the late Heather's deserted cottage and returned to report that her spices and herbs were growing wild on their own and would be available to harvest later in the year.
“Excellent, Aeris,” Simon had told him. “Well done.”
The air elemental had grinned widely, looking smugly at Kronk who glowered back at him.
The grin had disappeared when the wizard added, “Make sure you don't wait too long to harvest them when they're ready. Maybe check on them once a week or so, just to be sure.”
He'd turned away so that Aeris didn't see his smile. Kronk, on the other hand, had burst out laughing and the air elemental had pouted for the rest of the day.
Things began to move more quickly once Simon had finished with his garden.
He had battered the Gate spell into his memory to the point where he woke up in the mornings occasionally mumbling the incantation. He had also managed to permanently keep Fireball, Lightning and Stone Skin locked in his mind as well.
None of these were the most powerful of spells, but they would help in an emergency.
He was sitting in his study one bright morning, about the middle of April or so, when Kronk tip-tapped into the room dragging something behind him.
Simon looked up from some notes he was going over. He'd had some success with spell combinations lately. None were as powerful as the ones he'd lost in the spell-book gifted by the gods, but they were encouraging. Unfortunately, Liliana had yet to find the book and he had to make do with whatever he could invent on his own.
“What's that you've got?” he asked Kronk. Whatever it was was scraping loudly on the pine floor.
The little earthen moved around the desk and dropped the object at Simon's feet. He reached down and picked it up and his breath caught in his throat.
It was a staff.
The wizard put the length of wood down across his desk and stared at it in wonder. Kronk jumped up and stood next to it, watching him anxiously.
The little guy had found a six foot branch, ash perhaps; Simon wasn't an expert on the many different kinds of trees. But the wood was pale, almost white in color.
Kronk had rubbed it down until it was smooth and gleaming and had sealed it with some sort of clear resin. And then he had capped it, top and bottom, with a yellowish metal.
Bronze, Simon thought. The same metal that had spiraled up the length of Bene-Dunn-Gal.
Simon picked it up in both hands and held it cross-ways as he felt its weight and the smoothness of its surface.
“Kronk, it's beautiful!” he exclaimed finally, deeply touched by the little guy's thoughtfulness. “Thank you so much for this. I love it.”
The earthen's smile would have stretched from ear to ear, if he'd had ears, and he bowed.
“It was nothing, master. But I am so pleased that you find it acceptable.”
“Acceptable?” Simon stood up and moved to the center of the room. He rested the end of the staff on the floor and leaned against it. There was just enough flex in the wood, but not so much that it felt flimsy. He tapped it twice on the floor and the bronze chimed cheerfully from the butt end.
“Wonderful, my friend. Truly wonderful.”
He sat down at his desk again and leaned the staff against it.
“I didn't realize that I'd missed having one of these so much. It may not be Bene-Dunn-Gal, but it is awesome just the same.”
Kronk was almost glowing with delight at Simon's praise, but now he gestured at the staff, looking more serious.
“It is not just for show or for leaning against, master. In the old days, wizards channeled their magic through their staves. Your old staff was unique because you could inscribe it with spells, but all staves were used to focus magic.”
Simon was fascinated by the idea.
“Really? That's what they were used for?”
“Exactly, master,” Kronk asserted, nodding vigorously. “I saw it many times.”
The wizard stared at the staff dubiously.
“But how? How was it done?”
“That I do not know, master,” the little guy said, sounding a little embarrassed. Then he smiled and winked. “But I believe we both know someone who probably does.”
“We do?” Simon sat up alertly. “Who do you...”
He stopped speaking and then grinned.
“Aeris?”
“Exactly, master. The air elementals know more about magic than any of us. He may very well have a clue on how it was done.”
The wizard stood up again and turned to look out the window behind his desk. Beyond the wall surrounding the tower, the brown grass of the field led to the forest. A few green sprouts were struggling to force their way into the bright spring day. There was nothing moving.
He crossed the room to the other window and opened it. The sound of birds busily singing and nest building made him smile as he leaned out to look around. Except for the steady pacing along the wall of one of the guarding elementals, he saw no sign of Aeris.
“Any idea where he is?” he asked Kronk as he turned back and leaned against the window.
“No master. He flew off this morning, somewhere, and I haven't seen him since.”
Simon sat down at his desk.
“He hates when I do this,” he said with a bit of a wince.
He leaned back and stared at the middle of the desk. Kronk moved a few paces to the right.
“Aeris, I need you!” Simon said forcefully and then winced, knowing what was coming.
There was a bright flash, a loud clap of sound that echoed through the study and a sudden smell of ozone that pinched the nostrils. And then the air elemental was floating above the desk, staring at him and looking disgruntled.
“Was that really necessary?” he asked sharply, putting his hands on his hips. “Are you under attack? “
“No, not right now, but...”
“Have you fallen and broken something? Is the tower about to collapse beneath you? Have you contracted the plague?”
Simon sighed loudly. He knew this would be the reaction.
“No, no and no. Stop complaining, would you? Why are you so cranky? Were you doing something so incredibly important that my calling you back ruined it, whatever it was?”
Aeris bobbed up and down and continued to glare at Simon for another minute. And then he slowly let his arms drop and shrugged.
“Not really. I was actually conversing with the river sprite up north. You remember? The water elemental you summoned when you conquered the primal black dragon?”
Simon leaned forward, resting his hands on the desk.
“Aquamastis? Really? You talk to it?”
“Occasionally, when I'm passing near the river. And it's a he, not an it. Anyway, I just wanted to know if there had been any sign
of unusual activity along the banks of the river he's claimed for his own.” He shrugged again. “He says not.”
“Huh. I didn't know you did that, or that an elemental that powerful would speak to you, or anyone else for that matter.”
“Oh he's quite polite, when you approach him with respect,” Aeris said with a little smile. “Takes a long time to say anything now though, his essence is spread out along hundreds of miles of water. Anyway, that's where I was. Hopefully he won't be insulted by my disappearing in the middle of our conversation.”
“You think he will?” Simon asked with some concern.
“Probably not. It takes a lot of provocation to anger a being that immense. At any rate, he still feels he owes you for the gift of the river, and since I am your associate, his good will extends to me as well. That's primarily why he deigns to speak to me on occasion.”
“Good,” the wizard said with relief. “I definitely don't want to anger something that powerful. Now, if you're quite over your snit,” he gestured at the staff, “I wanted to ask you about this.”
“I don't get into snits, my dear wizard,” Aeris said loftily. Kronk made a rude noise and he glared at him. “Well, I don't. It's just that being summoned about, willy-nilly, is a bit disconcerting, that's all.”
He crossed the desk and examined the staff. He ran an airy hand over it and flew up to check out the bronze cap.
“Your work?” he asked Kronk as he settled back down on to the top of the desk. The earthen nodded silently.
“Hmm, nicely done. The wood is sealed well and the bronze caps on both ends are a nice touch.”
Kronk looked surprised at Aeris' compliment and mumbled a thank you.
“So, you have a staff again,” Aeris said to Simon. “Congratulations. It's not a semi-intelligent artifact from the distant past, but I suppose it will serve you well enough in your travels. But why did you want to talk to me about it?”
“Kronk was telling me that in the old days of magic, wizards could channel their spells through their staves, increasing their power. Is that true?”
Aeris glanced at Kronk, who just shrugged. The air elemental looked back at Simon with puzzled frown.
“Yes, that is true. I think I told you before that only wizards had the ability to use a staff, or a wand to a lesser extent, to amplify their powers. Didn't I?”
Now it was Simon's turn to be puzzled.
“Did you? I don't remember, to be honest. But whether you did or not, my question for you is...how did they do it? Like Kronk says, if anyone knows the secret, it's the air elementals. Your people worked more closely with wizards than any of the others they summoned.”
“I can't argue with that. They loved to gather information, those old magic-users. And we were their favorite scouts. But I have no idea how it was done, using staves as conduits.”
Simon watched the elemental closely. Aeris wasn't a very good actor. The wizard could see that he was telling the truth but something in his expression hinted that there was more to it.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “You don't know the secret, if there is one. But do you know someone who might?”
Aeris grimaced, looking past the wizard through the window to the forest beyond.
“Possibly,” he said reluctantly. “There are much more powerful elementals in my home realm than I. One of them may know something.”
Simon began to speak but the elemental cut him off.
“The problem, my dear wizard, as you well know, is that the great ones of my people scarcely acknowledge the existence of ones such as myself.” He nodded at Kronk. “Ask him. He'll tell you the same. There is a hierarchy of power amongst my kind and we are at the very bottom of it.”
“He is correct, master,” the little earthen added. “While one of the great ones may have the knowledge you seek, they would probably not share it with little ones like Aeris or me.”
Simon nodded slowly.
“Yeah, I know that. I've learned as much from you two and my studies over the past couple of years. But Aeris, there is one powerful elemental among your people who might speak with you. If he doesn't have the information, he may know someone who does.”
The air elemental's eyes widened.
“You're speaking of Aethos?”
“Exactly. I know you and he aren't exactly best pals, but he did save your life by using some of his own essence, right? Which means he places some value on you, don't you think?”
Aeris snorted gently.
“I doubt that. Aethos was infuriated that one of his own kind was attacked, not that it was me personally. His gift was beyond price, of course, but I think that he would have done the same for any of my people under those circumstances.”
Simon rubbed his face briskly and pushed back his hair. He suddenly felt the need to get out of the tower, walk in the sunshine and clear his mind. But this had to be resolved first. The need to augment his power had never been more pressing.
“But he would talk to you, wouldn't he?” he asked Aeris.
“He might, yes. I never did report back on what happened to the dark wizard who attacked me. He would be pleased to know that you destroyed her. In fact, he might be fascinated to learn that she had once been an herb witch before she received powers from the dark gods.”
“Then there's your hook,” Simon said with a grin. At Aeris' look of confusion, he chuckled. “Use that story to get his attention. It might make him more inclined to help us figure out this staff business if he knows we stopped the wizard who attacked one of his own people.”
The air elemental tapped his chin, looking thoughtful.
“Hmm. You know, that might actually work. Certainly it would please him.” Then he made a face. “But it means that I have to go back to the realm of air. By the Four Winds, I loathe that place.”
“I know you do. But you are only going there for a short time, and you have my permission, as the one who summoned you, to return at a time of your choosing. You don't need to wait for me to call you back.”
Aeris' eyes widened and Kronk, standing next to him, gasped loudly.
Simon looked from one to the other.
“What?” he asked. “What did I say?”
“Master, you just gave Aeris more freedom than any summoned creature has ever had!” Kronk said in astonishment.
“I did?”
Looking at the wizard's mystified expression, Aeris burst out laughing.
“Honestly, Simon, sometimes the way you blunder into things so innocently makes you seem as young as you look.”
“Well, I'm not,” the wizard said, becoming impatient. “What have I done now?”
“You have taken the reins off of me, my dear wizard. You have said that I can come and go as I choose. That I can leave this plane and return to my homeland without permission. Wizards have never done that before.”
“Doesn't seem like a big deal to me,” Simon told him with an unimpressed shrug. “I've told you both many times that you are my friends, not my slaves. You stay because you want to, not because you have to.”
Kronk tapped across the desk and stood just in front of where the wizard sat.
“That is true, master,” he said, looking up at Simon's face. “But even so, neither of us could simply return to our homes without your express consent. You are still the one who summoned us. You hold all the power.” He looked at Aeris for a quick second. “But now you have said that Aeris can leave here, go home, return, all on his own. His terminology is appropriate. You have taken off our reins, or our leashes, as it were.”
“Okay, good. I actually like that idea. Oh and Kronk? You can do the same, come and go as you please.”
“Master!”
“Shush. It's done.” Simon smiled at his little friend's gaping mouth. “I wouldn't give Aeris more freedom than I would give you.”
He looked at the air elemental.
“Do you have anything pressing to do, or can you leave now?”
“I'll go now,” Aeri
s said, still looking a little dazed. “I will try to get something out of Aethos. Whether I can or cannot, I should be back in a day or two.”
Simon stood up and walked to the door.
“Great. No rush. Just learn what you can and we'll see you when you get back.”
Aeris nodded once and disappeared with a little pop.
“Kronk, I need to get some air. It's too nice to sit inside all day.”
As he turned to walk to the stairs, he heard the little guy jump down from the desk and tip-tap along behind him.
“Don't forget to put on a jacket, master. You don't want to catch a cold.”
“Yes mother,” Simon muttered and rolled his eyes.
The day was bright and crisp and Kronk's suggestion had actually been a good one.
The wizard strolled around the small lake behind the tower, wearing a light jacket over his robe. The sharp tang of spring was in the air.
Old leaves, damp earth and a whiff of growing things merged into a scent that excited the senses and made Simon grin foolishly. It was always a relief to put winter behind him, especially after his adventures in Moscow.
At that thought, the wizard stopped walking and found a dry place to sit while he stared across the lake at his tower.
He hadn't spoken to Liliana for more than a week.
I'll have to remember to send Kronk to her with a lodestone, Simon thought. That way she can signal me when she wants to talk.
The paladin's people had all healed up since the dragon attack and had agreed with her. They had no intention of leaving Moscow for the safety of Nottinghill.
Simon admired their courage and loyalty, but thought that they were being foolish. A handful of people could not do much to strike back at the white dragons, in his opinion.
But they loved their home city and had a steady fearlessness that he couldn't help but find remarkable. The question was, what could he do to help them?
He stretched out. The dead winter grass spotted with small green shoots crackled under his body. Then Simon laced his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, thinking hard.
What was a white dragon's main weakness? Did it even have one? His first assumption would have been fire, but all dragons could breathe fire, along with their primary attack. He had no idea how a creature that could shoot blasts of frost from its mouth could also shoot flame, but it could. Magic, he supposed.
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