Master Wizard (Book 4)

by James Eggebeen

  "I was on a quest with Lorit." Kedrik busied himself with his notes, transcribing the formulae the instructor droned out to his bored students.

  "He's taken quite an interest in you, hasn't he?"

  "That's not always a good thing." Kedrik blushed.

  "Is he really as powerful as they say?"

  "Yes. He is." Kedrik didn't really think Lorit was that powerful. Sure, Lorit had more power than he did, but he was learning and he'd soon be stronger than Lorit. Kedrik felt the magic growing inside him day by day.

  "What did you do on your quest?"

  "I'm not supposed to talk about it," Kedrik whispered trying to look at the instructor with interest.

  "Why not? I suppose it was no big deal anyway. You probably went there to pick up some special herbs or something boring like that." Yorn nudged Kedrik with his elbow.

  Kedrik shoved him back. "We went to find the source of a spell on the water."

  "Then why the secrecy?"

  Kedrik turned to Yorn and scowled. "I told you. I'm not supposed to talk about it."

  "Something wrong, Kedrik?" the instructor asked. He stared at Kedrik.

  "No, sir. Nothing."

  "Eyes up here, then."

  Yorn laughed and turned his attention back to the instructor. "Picking herbs it is then."

  Kedrik leaned in and whispered to Yorn. "We found a Wizard's Study beneath the original Temple in the old city."

  "What?" Yorn whispered. "A Wizard's study? What did you find there?"

  "Scrolls ... burned-up scrolls."

  "What use is that?"

  "Master Jal restored them." Kedrik turned back to the instructor, trying to ignore Yorn.

  "What did they say?"

  "I can't read them. Now leave me alone. I don't need to get in any more trouble." Kedrik let his voice rise.

  "Kedrik! Yorn! Gather your belongings and report to the Head Master!" the instructor shouted. "Your lessons are over for the day. I'll meet you there once this class is finished. Until I arrive, you can inform the Head Master that you were removed from class for disrespectful behavior. You may then quietly contemplate the error of your ways until I arrive."

  "I'll be quiet," Kedrik said.

  "Certainly, you will. You will wait in silence until I arrive at the Head Master's office. Get out!"

  Kedrik and Yorn made their way through the deserted hallways to the Head Master's. Their footsteps echoed back to them as they trudged along in silence. Yorn tried to make a joke, but Kedrik ignored him and walked briskly onward.

  The spot outside the Head Master's study was reserved for students requiring extra discipline. A special bench had been constructed and spelled to be particularly dark and foreboding for students sent to see the Head Master.

  Raynmur, the Head Master, was a man to be avoided at all costs. He was well versed in the antics of young Wizards and had long ago lost any pretense of mercy.

  "What do you think he's going to do to us?" Yorn asked.

  Kedrik looked his friend over. The metal collar marked Yorn as a student under discipline. It would not go well that he was in trouble again. Kedrik wasn't sure why he had fallen in with the boisterous blacksmith's son and he was starting to regret it.

  "What's the matter?" Yorn asked.

  Kedrik remained silent, staring down the empty halls. The rapid measured tapping of approaching footsteps echoed off the hard stone walls long before the figure appeared. Kedrik groaned. Not Lorit! Why did it have to be Lorit?

  Lorit glared at the boys without a word as he pulled open the Head Master's door and entered.

  "Why does it always have to be Lorit?" Kedrik moaned.

  Yorn slapped Kedrik on the knee. "The most senior Wizard in Amedon has taken a shine to you. You should be proud. He doesn't usually get involved with students. You're special."

  "I'm not so sure I like the attention."

  The door creaked open and a short woman stepped out. Yerint was even shorter than Kedrik, slight of frame and ageless. She wore her hair tied back in a bun that was so tight, it caused her face to stretch. She looked at the boys with a smile that did little to ease his mind. Yerint had no magic, yet, she ruled the school more thoroughly than the Head Master himself did. She nodded towards the door. "The Head Master will see you now."

  She held the door open in invitation. Kedrik waited for Yorn to enter first and followed close behind him. Maybe they wouldn't notice him.

  Inside the study, Raynmur sat behind his large, ornately carved desk. The desk was completely clear. No parchment, quills, crystal ball, nothing. The Head Master preferred a spotless desk. Raynmur folded his hands atop the sparkling surface before him, his weathered arms protruding from his perfectly pressed and spotlessly cleaned gray robe.

  Kedrik stood there, waiting, but the Head Master remained silent. Lorit stood off to the side, examining the books on the Head Master's shelves. The books were meticulously organized and immaculate. The shelves gleamed with recent polish, just like Raynmur's desk.

  "Do you know why I've taken an in interest in you, Kedrik?" Lorit said without turning his back.

  Kedrik froze. What could he say? "I ... don't know ... sir."

  Lorit turned to face him. "You have a lot of potential. I knew that the moment I saw you in the temple. You have a lot of power for one so young. What you don't have is wisdom, as is evidenced by your choice in friends."

  Kedrik suppressed a shudder. Yorn was already in trouble; was he going to get in deeper because he'd been talking to Kedrik? He hoped not. Kedrik glanced over at Yorn, who seemed to be oblivious to the threat. If Lorit thought Yorn was a bad influence, it was anyone's guess what might happen.

  "Yorn," Lorit said.

  "Yes, sir?" Yorn answered in his bored way.

  "You've already made quite a name for yourself and you've not been here a season yet. That's quite impressive."

  Yorn stared at Lorit in defiance.

  "I can see that you are a young man of wide and varied tastes," Lorit said. "I also see that you are a little too free with your magic. I believe I have a place where you can develop your tastes without the use of magic for a while. Just until you grow out of some of this childish foolishness."

  That got Yorn's attention. "Sir?" he stammered.

  "I'm sending you to spend the next season or two with some friends of mine. Monks who specialize in non-magical recipes. You'll like them, but they're not very big on Wizards, so your powers will be bound the entire time you're with them."

  "My powers?" The defiant look was gone from Yorn's face. He was genuinely worried now.

  "Your powers," Lorit answered. "Certainly, you don't miss them. You've had that collar on you more often than not since you've been here. I think a couple of seasons with the monks will help you develop an appreciation for both their refined tastes and their love of hard physical labor ... without magic.

  "When you grow up a little, you can come back here and take up your studies again. Your magic studies ... I expect you to keep up your studies on the histories of Amedon and the free Wizards while you're away."

  "When will I go?" Yorn asked.

  "Now." Lorit stepped up to Yorn and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.

  Yorn flinched.

  Lorit laughed.

  Yerint appeared in the doorway. "The horses are ready."

  "There you go." Lorit pulled on Yorn's shoulder guiding him to the door. "I've arranged for you to be escorted to the Abby."

  "The Abby?" Yorn asked.

  "Swaldby Abby. The monks there are very accomplished in their art. You will learn much."

  "But no magic?" Yorn looked dejected.

  "No magic until you return. Try to stay out of trouble, won't you?"

  Lorit turned back to Kedrik. "You are another matter altogether." Lorit tapped his foot. He turned back to study the books on Raynmur's shelves.

  Kedrik tried to suppress his nervousness. Lorit had just sent away his best friend and confidant. Kedrik's anger rose. Who
was Lorit to do this to him? Who did Lorit think he was to whisk Yorn away like that?

  Kedrik startled as Lorit turned back to him.

  "I have an idea," Lorit said. "I think an old friend of mine would be just what you need ... and perhaps, you could be just what he needs, too."

  Lorit glanced back at Raynmur. "I'm taking him to Zhimosom."

  Raynmur laughed. "Are you sure about that? Don't you owe that old Wizard a little peace and quiet after all you put him through?"

  "He doesn't take well to peace and quiet."

  "Heaven help you both." Raynmur stood and escorted them out of his office. Outside, Yerint sat quietly, but smiled a knowing smile at Kedrik as he passed.

  "Come," was all that Lorit said. He escorted Kedrik out of the building and onto the grounds. It was early afternoon and the breeze was cool. Wizards rushed about on their business, oblivious to Kedrik's plight.

  Kedrik felt Lorit's magic rise. The yard vanished and was replaced by a quiet cottage nestled in the woods on the shore of a placid lake. The moss hanging from the trees pressed in on the structure covering it in shadow even as the afternoon sun shone boldly between mountain peaks beyond the water.

  Kedrik tried not to show his apprehension as Lorit walked up to the door and knocked. A muffled voice came from inside. The door creaked open and an old Wizard stood there.

  "Is that the boy?" he pointed to Kedrik with his chin, his long white beard flicking as he did.

  "This is Kedrik." Lorit grabbed Kedrik by the arm and shoved him before the old man. "Kedrik. This is the Wizard Zhimosom."

  Zhimosom smiled. "Come in, lad." He stepped inside and motioned Kedrik to follow.

  The interior of the cottage was clean and well kept. A rustic table with four chairs crowded around it almost filling the kitchen area. Zhimosom pulled out a chair and gestured to Kedrik. "Have a seat."

  Kedrik sat and shuffled the chair under the table. He folded his hands and watched as Zhimosom poured water into a kettle and placed it on the stove. The old Wizard reached into his robe and came away with a match, which he rubbed against the stove. It burst into flame and Zhimosom tossed it into the kindling.

  Soon the kettle emitted a thick cloud of steam. Zhimosom carefully scooped some powders from a jar into cups and filled them with water.

  While this was going on, Kedrik probed for Zhimosom's magic. Surely the most powerful Wizard alive would have some great spells that Kedrik might learn by watching closely. But there was no magic. Zhimosom had an aura of power about him, but he performed no spells while he worked. No magic to light the fire, no magic to stir the tea, nothing. It was as if the old Wizard was no Wizard at all.

  Kedrik looked at Lorit. Lorit either didn't notice or didn't care. Lorit chatted with Zhimosom as the Wizard worked. It was clear that they were old friends.

  "Kedrik here is a powerful young Wizard who needs to learn a little self control and discipline."

  "Like someone else I used to know." Zhimosom smiled at Kedrik.

  "Yes. That's why I brought him here."

  "So you don't believe in letting an old man rest in his advanced years?"

  "Advanced years?" Lorit laughed. "You were never young, and you'll never be old."

  "That doesn't mean I don't deserve a rest."

  "You've been resting almost a summer. Ever since Chihon and I rescued you from Sulrad and took over the Council. It's time you got active once again. It's what keeps you young."

  "That, it does." Zhimosom smiled.

  Kedrik found that smile both comforting and disturbing at the same time. Behind that smile were eyes that had seen atrocities beyond belief, if the stories told about Zhimosom were true, and yet they held a glimmer of a naughty child embarking on mischief.

  "I brought the scrolls." Lorit withdrew the restored scrolls and placed them on the table.

  "These are from beneath the ancient Temple in Frostan?"

  "They are," Lorit said. "The door-post was engraved with symbols about dragons, but I can't read the scrolls."

  Zhimosom picked one of them up and unrolled it. "Hmmm..." he muttered. "Ancient Wizard Script. It was already out of common use when I was a lad."

  "Can you read it?" Lorit asked.

  "Not yet," Zhimosom shook his head. "The ancient language had a way of teaching the reader as they worked at it. I'm confident that, given enough time, I can read these."

  "I'll leave them with you. Maybe Kedrik can help."

  "Hmm ... I'm sure he can." Zhimosom looked to be lost in the scrolls already.

  Lorit took his leave, claiming pressing Wizard's business, and left Kedrik alone with Zhimosom. After a while the Wizard re-rolled the scroll he had been reading and set it down. Behind Zhimosom, dishes were stacked neatly in open cupboards and the shelves below were filled with jars and boxes.

  Kedrik glanced about the room. There were none of the affectations of a Wizard. Zhimosom must have noticed his concern. "No, there are no Wizardly trappings here. This is my home. My study is over there." He nodded to a door off to the left.

  Kedrik looked wistfully at the scrolls.

  "You'll get plenty of time for that. Don't worry about those." Zhimosom picked up the dishes and carried them to a basin on the counter. He poured cold water into the basin and added hot water from the boiling kettle. He reached for a cup of light golden liquid and dropped a few drops into the water.

  "Come over here." Zhimosom motioned to the water. "Wash these."

  Kedrik looked at him in wonder. "Wash them. With my hands?"

  "Yes, wash them with your hands. Take a cup, put it in the water, swish it around. Rinse it off and put it over there to dry."

  "Why don't we use magic to clean up?" Kedrik asked.

  Zhimosom laughed. "You are so young, so full of yourself, aren't you?" Zhimosom sat back down at the table. "When you get to be my age ... well, let's hope you never get to be my age, but when you get older, you will learn that magic is not something to be squandered. It is precious and rare, and you should only use it in times of extreme need."

  Kedrik looked at the old Wizard. Only a faint trace of magic surrounded the once mighty one. Kedrik wondered what had happened. Why didn't Zhimosom, the former head of the Wizards' Council, have power radiating from him?

  He looked deeper, hoping the old Wizard couldn't feel his probing. Buried deep in Zhimosom was a core of magic so intense it almost burned Kedrik's senses. The magic was the Wizard's, but there was something more. There was magic in the old man seething hot and roiling like molten lava.

  Despite his protestations not to use magic for trivial things, the old Wizard was burning magic at a fantastic rate. No wonder he appeared weak and old.

  Separation

  Chihon rested quietly. She was feeling better after her healing, and eager to get up and around. Her room in the Keep was quiet, with the occasional visitor to check up on her; she was lonely.

  Kimt had come to check up on her every day, urging her to stay in bed and rest, but today was different. After examining Chihon, Kimt sat back and packed her bag. "You have a clean bill of health. You can do whatever you want from now on."

  "I can travel again?"

  "Anywhere you want." Kimt sat beside Chihon on the bed.

  "I'm worried about Ril," Chihon said. "Can we go see her?"

  "Yes. That would be nice." Kimt smiled. "Lorit has been to see her, too. It's comforting to Sond."

  "I don't think she likes me all that much." Chihon recalled the hurt of Sond's comment about her not being a mother. She didn't know why it bothered her so much, but it did.

  "She was just worried about Ril. She'll be happy to see you."

  "I hope you're right."

  Kimt was like the sister Chihon never had, even though the Sorceress was already a grandma'am. Chihon escorted Kimt to the study, stepped up on the Sorcerer's stone and invoked the travel spell that took them to Sond's home.

  Kimt knocked gently on the door so as not to wake the baby, but Sond answered t
he door with Ril in her arms.

  "Welcome." Sond stepped back and swung the door wide for Chihon and Kimt. "It's so good to see you ... both." Sond threw a glance at Chihon that showed her embarrassment. Maybe Kimt was right and Sond truly was sorry for the way she'd treated Chihon the last time they were there.

  "How's the baby?" Chihon asked.

  "She's doing fine. Lorit was here last week and spent more time with her. She was getting worse, but he made her better again."

  "I'd like to take another look at her, if you don't mind," Chihon said.

  Sond looked at her for a moment, then relaxed and handed Ril over. "Lorit sure is a wonderful man," she said. "He's so gentle with her and she just loves him."

  "He sure is." Chihon cradled the child in her arm and probed with her magic. This time, she was careful, and tried to be gentle. She saw the magic infused within the child. The magic was much like the spell that Lorit had burned out of her.

  Chihon reached for the spell and carefully, gently, probed for a weakness. There were threads of different kinds of magic all wrapped up in that spell, but the more Chihon probed, the more distinct the individual spells became.

  "Kimt, look at this." Chihon guided Kimt to the spell on Ril. It was like the spell of the poison that Lorit had taken from the Priest in Talus. She fingered the vial that she'd carried in her pocket since Kimt had used it to heal her.

  "I think I see it now, too," Kimt said.

  There it was. The key thread. Chihon knew she could break the spell, but would she hurt Ril again? She didn't want to endanger the child, but if she could break the spell, then it was worth a chance.

  "Help me," Chihon spoke to Kimt through their magical connection so that Sond would not hear them. Chihon raised a spell of sleep and pressed it onto Ril. The baby slowly closed her eyes and was soon fast asleep. Chihon found the loose end of the thread and gently tugged on it. It resisted.

  Chihon looked closely at Ril. The baby didn't react, so she tugged again, harder this time, but slowly so as not to jerk it. The thread slid out of the spell ever so slowly, but Chihon worried that she would break the strand of magic and it would be lost.