Ril gurgled and smiled. Lorit glanced over at Kedrik. "Use your senses and look into her. Careful. See if you can feel the magic in her stomach."
Kedrik wrinkled his forehead. Lorit felt him probe the child. He was surprised. Kedrik was more controlled and subtle than Lorit had expected. Ril smiled the whole time.
"I see it," Kedrik said. "It's dark green and brown, like rotten vegetation, and it has a strange texture to it. It's gritty and confused as if several different Wizards were at work."
"That's it. Remember what it feels like. That's what we're searching for."
Lorit recalled the spell Kimt had used on Chihon. He thought about using it on Ril, but shuddered. The pain it had caused Chihon was almost unbearable. He didn't think that Ril would tolerate that type of treatment and didn't want to try it. He handed the baby back her mother. "If she takes a turn for the worse, you know how to get in touch with Kimt. She can let me know wherever I am and I'll come right back."
Lorit turned to Kedrik. "Let's go see about that well."
Dragon Master
Lorit led Kedrik through the town to the well where he'd detected the magic on their last trip. A man sat there watching the town-folk come and go. He was ancient and decrepit, but had a pleasant smile. He exchanged a few words with everyone who came to get water.
"Sir, do you come here every day?" Lorit asked.
"I've been sitting here for nigh on twenty summers." The man whistled slightly when he spoke.
Lorit sat on the cold stones next to the man. "Have you noticed any change lately? Anything different about the well? Has anyone come here and done anything to it?"
"Not lately. There was a mighty quake a few moons ago that rocked the place. The well dried up for two days, then came back. It was scary, folks didn't know what they would do if the water didn't come back, but it did."
"When did you say this was?"
"It was two ... no three moons ago." The man shook his head. "Yup ... three moons ago, next full moon. I remember now. I was watching the full moon the night before it happened." The old man looked up in the sky as he spoke. "I wasn't here when it happened. I was at home in bed, but when I got here just at sunup, the well was dry..."
The old man held his arms wide. "What a morning that was. Folks crying and howling like lost children." He winked at Lorit. "Most folks don't think to keep enough water around in case something happens to the well. They think water's always going to be there." He cackled. "They weren't ready for the well to run dry like that."
"What happened? Did someone come and investigate?"
"Some of the Council came by and told folks that if the water didn't return, maybe they should move out of the town and dig their own wells.
"A couple of wealthy folk came by and talked about setting their servants to dig down there and see what happened. They didn't get around to it before the water just came right back."
"It just came back? No one did anything?" Lorit asked.
"Twere cloudy and bitter for a few days, but after that, it cleared up again. Looks like it just needed a little rest ... just like I do sometimes."
"Thank you for your trouble." Lorit reached in his pocket and drew out a couple of Silvers. He pressed them into the old man's hand. "You've been a big help. Please take these."
The old man pushed them away. "I don't need no Silvers. I'm an old man with nothing to worry about. My kids and grandkids take good care of me."
"Surely someone in your family could use a little help."
"They don't take charity, and neither do I."
Lorit stepped back so the man couldn't return his coins. "Find something good to do with them, then."
The old man laughed and looked up as a young mother with three children entered the square to draw water. "Morning, Dearie," he shouted to her. He waved her over with his head.
The woman knelt down. "How are you today?"
"I'm fine, and you're even better." He laughed and handed the Silvers to the woman. "Take these and buy some food for your kids. This nice young man is bound and determined to give away his silver and I have no need of it."
The woman accepted the silver and stood up. She raced over to Lorit and hugged him. "Thank you, kind sir."
Lorit stood stiff until the woman released him. He hadn't done anything to deserve her gratitude; it was the old man who had given her the coins.
"This will help so much." She hugged him again and released him. "Come, children." She reached out and her children flocked around her like chicks to a mother hen.
Lorit turned to see Kedrik smiling at his unease. The boy thought it funny that Lorit was shy about being hugged by a strange woman. He'd have to find something unpleasant for Kedrik later. Some task, perhaps, to teach him humility.
"Come on." Lorit shoved Kedrik ahead of him. "From the sound of it, the well was diverted right around the time the sickness started to take hold. Maybe there's something below ground that accounts for that."
Lorit reached out for the water. He used his magical senses to follow it deep into the earth, feeling the path that the water took as it journeyed from the lakes and rivers where it fell as rain and on to the well. Lorit guided Kedrik's magic along with his so the boy could see it too. It was thin, cool, blue, and so faint that it was hard to follow, but a trace of the water was there.
The water arrived at the well deep beneath the ground. Lorit felt the porous rock that allowed the water to flow down from the mountains around them. He traced the path of the water back towards its source. It arrived at this particular well through a natural channel that came from near the center of the city.
"This way." Lorit led Kedrik through the twisting streets of town and they soon came to the ancient quarter. Frostan had once been a mighty city, but it had fallen into disrepair. The castle ruins sat on a hill overlooking the town, its broken ramparts and crumbled towers a testament to the ravages of time. That was where the water flowed from, winding its way beneath their feet to the well below.
"Here." Lorit stopped. "There's something down below."
Kedrik cocked his head to one side. "I can feel it. A large cavern."
"That's not all. There's a structure beneath us, too, not just the cavern. Something man-made." Lorit sensed the walls buried in the dirt beneath their feet. Not only was there a layer where the ancient city lay, but beneath that, there was a series of chambers. They were partially filled with water.
"Do you think that's what happened to the well?" Kedrik asked.
"I don't know, but it may lead us to the problem. Let's see if there's a way down there."
They searched around the ruins of the city until almost sundown. Finally, they located a passageway in the middle of the rubble that had once been the large building.
"I think this is the original Temple," Lorit said.
"Original Temple? I thought that was in Quineshua."
"No. It started in Frostan. Zhimosom and Rotiaqua were from here. This is where Sulrad founded the Temple." Lorit stomped his foot on the dusty ground.
"Here? But this place has been abandoned for ages. You mean Zhimosom and Rotiaqua are that old?"
Lorit chuckled. "Yes. They're that old. They were here when Sulrad founded the Temple. It was on land Rotiaqua's father gifted to Sulrad. There was a big battle that stranded Sulrad on Quineshua, but it all started here."
Lorit located a capstone that had broken and caved in some time it the distant past. It glowed with magic that protected it from the prying eyes and hands of anyone but a powerful Wizard. Lorit concentrated his magic on the stone and slowly lifted it away, revealing a dusty stairway that led down into the earth. Lorit and Kedrik followed the tunnel below ground in search of the water. The tunnel was long and dusty, with roots sticking from the walls and ceiling that made the way almost impassable. At one point Lorit had to use magic to remove enough of the obstructing plants to allow them to pass.
Around a bend in the tunnel, they came upon a doorway that was part of a submerged s
tructure. Runes decorated the post and mantle of the doorway. Lorit peered at the ancient characters. They were written in an obscure Wizards' script. It was one that he had studied, but not extensively. He brushed the dirt and dust away and raised fire in his palm to illuminate the writing.
"Dragons," Lorit mumbled.
"Dragons?" Kedrik asked.
"Yes. It talks about dragons. I wonder what's behind it." Lorit tried to open the door but it was stuck fast. He reached out and found a spell that held it shut. It was a simple spell, meant to prevent anyone without magic from opening the door, but easy to handle for any Wizard. Lorit quickly defeated the spell and pulled the door open.
Inside was a large structure made of stone that withstood the years. The roof was intact, if overgrown with roots hanging down. The floor was covered in water that came almost to Lorit's ankles and it was dark and cold.
Lorit raised a fireball and instructed Kedrik to do the same.
"What are we looking for?" Kedrik asked.
"I don't know. Anything that might tell us about the water supply. This water is fresh, not stagnant. That means it's moving. It's probably the water that ends up in the well."
Lorit found a room with a mosaic of a Wizard and a dragon prominently displayed on the wall. The mosaic was old and dusty and covered in soot. The room looked like a study where scrolls and books were kept, but someone had burned everything in the place. There were piles of ash in each of the small openings that would have housed scrolls.
"It looks like whatever was here has long since been destroyed," Kedrik said.
"I wouldn't be too sure about that. Remember your book? I think that all is not lost."
Lorit and Kedrik gathered up the ashes, careful not to let them fall into the water. When they had them all, Lorit formulated a spell to take them straight to the practice room where Kedrik had burned his book. He placed the ashes on the table and brushed the dust off his robe.
"Go get Master Jal," Lorit told Kedrik. "He can help."
In moments Kedrik returned with Master Jal.
"Looks like you have a mess on your hands. Ya?" Jal said.
"We found this in a vault beneath the original Temple in Frostan," Kedrik blurted.
"I fear they may be too old for your restorative magic," Lorit said.
"Well, we don't know until we try. Ya?" Jal waved his hand over the pile of ashes. "Restituere hos cineres," he whispered.
The pile of ash swirled in a tiny black vortex, twisting tightly and accelerating. The twister gave off a whistling sound and then faded. A scattering of old parchment appeared amongst the ashes.
"Looks like we're going to need a lot of magic for this. You can leave these with me." Jal turned to Lorit. "It's going to take a lot of work, but I think we can restore them. At least we'll try."
"Let me know when you have anything useful." Lorit clapped the Wizard on the shoulder.
"Come on, Kedrik. We best get you back to your classes."
"I'm sure Master Jal could use my help," Kedrik pleaded with Lorit.
Lorit glanced back at Master Jal. The Wizard shrugged. "He has enough power. He may be able to help."
Lorit turned to Kedrik. "Once you finish here, it's back to class with you." Lorit looked at the pile of ashes that now contained pieces of the precious scrolls. "And try to stay out of trouble."
Lorit turned and left the boy in the care of Master Jal, but he had a sense of foreboding. What manner of trouble could Kedrik get into? He was just restoring some old scrolls, wasn't he?
Loose Lips
Kedrik worked with Master Jal at the restoration of the scrolls. It was just the two of them in the room where Kedrik had been taught how to raise fire. The thick stones and high ceiling were designed to contain any rogue magic a student might throw off in his practice, but now they had the effect of concentrating the magic of the two Wizards as Kedrik and Jal attempted to resurrect the scrolls.
Kedrik had never loaned his power to another Wizard before, but Master Jal showed him how to follow along as he raised magic. The magic flowed from Kedrik in a smooth, liquid flow. It was strange at first, and Kedrik resisted, but as the spell advanced, he relaxed and let Jal guide his power.
The ashes rose from the table, swirling in the air like a tiny tornado. The smell of burned parchment was almost overpowering as the bits of black ash and off-yellow parchment mixed in the whirlwind.
The spinning cloud slowly transformed from black to off-white as the ash returned to parchment, until the black ash was completely gone. It had taken most of the day to reconstruct the parchment into a pile of fragments, each of which was no larger than Kedrik's fingernail.
"Now what?" Kedrik asked when Master Jal finally paused.
"Now we rest a bit, then we use a different spell to reassemble the pieces. I think we're going to be able to restore these for the most part. Ya?"
Kedrik looked at the pile of shredded parchment. He believed in Master Jal, but he wasn't sure that they would ever get anything useful out of the scrolls. The tiny pieces of parchment contained letters and fragments of words written in a script Kedrik couldn't read.
"Come. Let us eat while we recharge our magic. We can talk a while."
Jal led Kedrik to the dining hall and seated him with the instructors. Usually Kedrik sat with the students, but Jal insisted Kedrik sit with him.
"Not a word about the scrolls." Jal leaned in and whispered in Kedrik's ear as they entered the hall.
"So, young master Kedrik, how are your studies?" one of the Wizards asked. Kedrik had seen the Wizard in the halls, but had yet to take any classes with him.
"Fine. I'm learning a lot," Kedrik said.
"That's when he's not out running around the countryside with Lorit." Jal filled his plate with roast meat and vegetables, winking at Kedrik.
"So you're on the road?" The Wizard nodded. "That's why I haven't seen your name on the rolls. I didn't realize you were one of them."
"One of whom?" Kedrik asked.
"Most Wizards come here to train as soon as their magic awakes. Usually, it's many summers before their magic is strong enough to allow them to take to the road. A Wizard with minimal power isn't safe on his own, but sometimes a young man has power to spare. It's better for those boys to be out on the road than to train here. They learn faster in the real world than in the halls of Amedon."
"Power to spare?" Kedrik had never heard of this. He thought everyone had essentially the same amount of power. It had never occurred to him that he was unusual.
"Power to spare. You have it. It leaks out of you," the Wizard said.
Thankfully, the food was good and the Wizards concentrated on eating. Kedrik answered a few more questions from the senior Wizards throughout the meal, but by and large, they ate in silence. Kedrik was careful not to speak of the scrolls, or what he and Lorit had been up to, and the Wizards were polite enough to refrain from asking.
After the meal, Kedrik and Master Jal returned to their labor. Jal sat on the stool before the pile of parchment, reading. He had sent for a book of spells before the meal and it had arrived just as they returned.
"Here is the one I was thinking of." Jal pointed to a spell in the book. It was a complex series of sub-spells that together should restore the scrolls to their original form. Jal rehearsed them with Kedrik a few times, then turned to the table.
Jal raised his staff and encouraged Kedrik to do the same. "Coniungentur - integri - restituetur - ut novus," he chanted over and over again. The power flowed from Kedrik through Jal and into the pile of parchment. This time the tiny tornado was white and glowed brightly. It whistled and screamed as it spun until Kedrik's ears were ready to burst.
The twister spun faster and faster and the noise grew louder. Kedrik's power was almost exhausted when there came a flash and a bang that threw him to the floor. When he picked himself up the parchment was gone and in its place sat three scrolls, neatly rolled up and sealed. The scrolls were ancient and cracked, with pieces missin
g in places, but they were whole.
"You did it," Kedrik said.
"We did it." Jal sat heavily on the chair, as if he were as exhausted as Kedrik.
"I'll take these to Lorit." Jal turned to Kedrik. "You should be back in class, I think. Ya?"
"Do I really have to? Can't I come along and help with the scrolls?"
"You read ancient Wizards' script?" Jal asked.
Kedrik hung his head. "No."
"Then class is where you should be."
Kedrik reluctantly trudged through the halls towards his scheduled class.
When Kedrik reached his class, he was surprised to find his friend Yorn in attendance. Yorn sat by and watched as the other Wizards practiced. Yorn wore about his neck a rusted iron collar that all but damped out his magic. He was powerless and Kedrik knew he was still being punished for his behavior at the inn.
"I don't know why I have to sit through these lessons while my magic is suppressed. I can't do anything," Yorn complained.
"You're supposed to keep up with your studies," Kedrik whispered. "Even if you can't practice, you should learn this. Take notes and memorize the spells even if they don't work for you at the moment."
Yorn pulled at the collar. "I hate this thing."
Kedrik leaned in and whispered, trying not to let the instructor see him. "How much longer do you have to wear that?"
"Another moon. And while I have it on, I'm not allowed to go to town either, except to the girl's house as her servant. I'm dying for an ale." Yorn turned to Kedrik. "Can you get me some?"
"No. You almost got me put in one of those things. I'm not going into town for you."
Yorn got down on his knees and clasped his hands together in supplication. "Please?"
"No. No ale. You're restricted to the Keep. Get used to it. It won't be long until the collar comes off. Pay attention."
The instructor, a young Wizard with bushy eyebrows, glanced at Yorn and held him in his gaze without saying a word. Yorn sheepishly stood up and took his seat. When the instructor looked away, Yorn leaned in to Kedrik. "Where were you?"
Master Wizard (Book 4) Page 11